could buy groceries. She could get presents for her kids to give to them at the carnival tomorrow night. She could pay Caleb back for some of the things he’d done. “Can I give you two hundred now and more later when I get back on my feet on payday?”
“No.” He glared at the windshield. “Where to?”
“I need to give you some money at least,” Amy protested. “Let me—”
“Where to?” he repeated again.
She lost her temper. Maybe it was all the weirdness of the week or the worry about her car and her finances, but she was tired of his short, shitty mood. “You are the most stubborn son of a bitch ever, I swear.”
He looked over at her in surprise . . . and then laughed.
That surprised her just as much. Not the cussing—it was a habit she was trying to break—but his smile. It changed his somber, bearded face into something breathtaking. Oh. He had beautiful teeth, too, white and straight, and he was just . . . charming as hell when he smiled.
For a brief moment, she wished he was her Secret Santa after all. That someone as kind and thoughtful as Caleb was her secret admirer. Maybe that would get him to open up and really talk to her. In this moment, that was what she wanted more than anything, her loneliness a constant ache in her soul.
“Where to?” he asked again, a little more gently this time.
Amy sighed, the moment gone. “To town hall. I have to pick up my costume for tomorrow night. Have you gotten yours?”
He glanced over at her as he turned the truck. “Costume?”
“For Santa? You know, to play Santa Claus? I’m going to be Mrs. Claus?”
Caleb nodded slowly, though she could tell from his expression that he’d forgotten all about it. “The children will appreciate it,” she said. “But they’ll probably appreciate it more if Santa actually talks to them.”
He grunted a response.
“For the record, Santa doesn’t grunt, either.”
He gave her a sharp look out of the corner of his eye.
She didn’t care. It wasn’t like she’d forced him to sign up. He’d volunteered. He had to know what was involved with playing Santa. If he wasn’t going to do the job, he should have never thrown his hat in the ring. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but some of those children have been looking forward to seeing Santa for weeks now. There’s no mall around here for them to go and see him, so this might be their only chance to have this experience. However you feel about things, please keep that in mind and try to make this as wonderful for them as you can.”
There was a long pause. “I’ll try.”
Amy let out a slow breath. “Thank you.”
“It’s . . . hard for me.”
No shit, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. He was nice, for all that she couldn’t understand what he was thinking. He had a kind heart, she knew he did, so she needed to just smile and encourage him past it. “Just remember that they’re children. Small children. All they want to hear is that they’ve been good enough to get a present from Santa. That’s all.”
He nodded again as he pulled the truck up to the municipal office. Painted Barrel was small as far as towns went, so the post office, water department, library, and pretty much everything else were all in the same building. Amy thought it was adorable and part of the town’s charm. You literally knew everyone who lived here and what they did. It felt like a big family . . . even if she felt like the weird cousin who’d just arrived to spend the summer with relatives she barely knew.
As they parked, Caleb frowned at the building in front of them. “It’s closed.”
“It’s not,” Amy reassured him. “Sage said her new baby was fussing and her husband has a cold so she closed up early. She texted me to tell me she left a key under the mat so I can get in and take care of things. Come on.” She slid out of the truck and headed for the building.
The key was just where Sage said it would be, and Amy flicked on a few lights, feeling a little uneasy as Caleb followed her in. She’d been glib about going in to retrieve the costumes, but now that she was inside, she felt like an intruder. Sage had told her that the