Page 44 of Wait a HO HO HO Second!

“Why do you have a blister? Do you get them often?” Kian asked, looking for clarity.

“Not often, no,” she answered, hoping to leave it at that as she grabbed another cinnamon popper. It would keep her mouth busy so she couldn’t answer his incessant questions.

“It stands to reason they only happen when something changes.” Leaning in, he grabbed his cinnamon roll and chewed with a naughty smile. He knew he was pushing her buttons, but he didn’t care.

“Thank you for your opinion, Dr. Van Adler. I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Joy,” Kian said, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I’m free all day. How can I help so you don’t have to move around as much? I understand you don’t want to talk about your disability, and that’s fine, but you also can’t work yourself so hard that you end up unable to work at all.”

Why did he have to be right? It was annoying as hell that he not only was right but also understood her dislike of discussing her disability. Ugh. Just ugh.

“You could make it easier on me by being more like the jerk you were.”

“Hmmm, no can do. That guy is long gone. I apologize if you find it hard not to like me, but this is who I am.”

Sticking her tongue out at him, Kian laughed, and she realized for the first time that it was an easy laugh, free of pain, grief, or fear. Yes, fear. That was the sound she used to hear in his laughter whenever they were together. Weird.

She thought about yesterday’s kiss. Maybe not so weird. Maybe he was afraid she’d bring up their past and use it to avoid seeing who he’s become since then. Until yesterday, she had done that more times than she wanted to admit. Would she keep doing it? Was that fair to him? Would she want him to see her as the person she was in high school rather than the person she is today? Absolutely not. She was a completely different person, and so was he.

“My arch must have gotten higher, inverting my heel further and pressing the lateral malleolus against the brace, causing the blister.” Grimacing, Joy rubbed her forehead. “Sorry, that was an info dump you didn’t need.”

“Wrong,” he answered. “That was the first time you’ve explained your disability to me without saying ‘I’m fine’ or ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ I assume you mean the outside of your ankle bone is rubbing against the brace?”

“Yes. That’s what happens with Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease. As it progresses, your arch rises and inverts your heel, misaligning your foot. The braces are custom-made to fit my foot and leg, so if my anatomy changes, I can develop blisters.”

“What do you need to do? You need to see someone, right?”

“The orthotist,” she answered. “But these are new braces. I’ve only had them for about six months, and I don’t want to get new ones again. They’re too expensive.”

“Can he at least temporarily fix the one you’re wearing?” Kian asked, sipping his coffee.

“It’s possible. They’re made from a polymer that can be heated and pushed out, but it would be a temporary fix.”

Kian motioned toward her phone. “Call them and tell them you need to be seen today. I’ll drive you over.”

“You don’t need to drive me over, Kian,” she said without picking up the phone. “I have a car.”

When he crossed his arms over his chest, she knew he wasn’t leaving until he saw this through. “By driving you, I’ll know for sure you were seen.”

“You’re not my father,” Joy huffed. Just who does he think he is? He’s been here for five minutes and suddenly thinks he’s an expert on her life and her disability? Please.

“Oh, trust me, I’m not your father, and I’m glad about that, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you suffer in pain just because you think you’re too busy.”

“I am too busy!” she exclaimed, gesturing toward the desk. “I have to put the Harrington proposal together.” Even the pain in her ankle wouldn’t keep her from securing this anchor store for the mall. That would launch them into the stratosphere.

“Oh, good, you are going with me!” When Kian fist-pumped, Joy couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness. “Now I just have to get you to agree to date night! First, the brace.”

“First, the Harrington proposal,” Joy growled in frustration.

“Let’s be real, Joy. I know you’ve had that proposal ready for years. I’ll make you a deal. We’ll get the brace fixed and the blister treated, then we’ll have lunch and go over the proposal together so we’re on the same page. Deal?” Kian held out his hand, and she glanced at it, then back at his face. The look in his eyes told her he was done kidding around.

With a resigned sigh, she ignored his outstretched hand and lifted the receiver. Joy punched in an all-too-familiar number and waited for it to ring. When it was answered, she explained the situation and agreed to head over once the mall was open.

When she hung up, she glared at him. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” But his grin said far more than his words.

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