All I Want For Christmas by Ann Roth Page B

pleasant breakfast.
    Ryan had been certain that with Eggwhite caged and safe, his daughter would sleep better. Not so, however, and he felt powerless to help her.
    Hell. Maybe Tina was right, and he should take her to a therapist.
    His own sorry state was not terrific, either. He hadn’t seen Tina since Monday night. He’d wanted it that way and had meant to get a grip on his undeniable feelings for her. But on his way home from work last night, Norma had called to let him know that she and Maggie were at G. G.’ s, and to pick up Maggie there. Knowing he should avoid Tina, Ryan had knocked on the door with way too much anticipation. But she wasn’t there. She’d taken advantage of Norma’s visit to run to the pharmacy for more pain pills.
    His keen sense of disappointment bothered him, and he acknowledged the fact that he hadn’t corralled his desire at all. If he could just forget the taste of her mouth and the feel of her body against his….
    Scowling, he flipped a batch of pancakes. Lately, he’d worked out so much that his muscles ached, and he was getting pretty sick of cold showers.
    According to G. G., Tina hadn’t heard about the job yet, but she thought the interview had gone well. Above all else, she wanted a career, and Ryan had best remember that. And he would get through the next week without touching her—or die trying. He set his jaw. Come next Sunday, she’d be gone. Out of sight, out of mind, he told himself, forgetting that the strategy hadn’t worked over the past four days.
    Until next Sunday he’d continue to remind Maggie—and himself—that Tina was about to leave. With luck, by the time Christmas rolled around, Maggie would be fine and he’d be back to his normal self, a man who resorted to occasional encounters with women who wanted what he did—mutual gratification and nothing more.
    He was cooking the last batch of pancakes when his daughter bounded into the kitchen, robe flapping behind her.
    â€œHi, Daddy! Mmm, mmm, it smells good in here.”
    Whatever haunted her in dreams was gone now. Relieved, he ruffled her hair. “Morning, Sunshine. Ready for breakfast?”
    â€œYes!” Moving away she climbed into her chair. “What’re we having?” She reached for the glass of orange juice Ryan had set out for her.
    â€œYour favorite—pancakes and bacon.”
    â€œYummy!”
    â€œHow many pancakes do you want?”
    â€œFive, because I’m five! And one piece of bacon, please.”
    Ryan doubted she’d eat more than three pancakes, but this was supposed to be a happy breakfast, so what the heck? “Coming right up.”
    He filled her plate and set the food in front of her. Then he served himself half a dozen pancakes and four strips of bacon. After helping Maggie with maple syrup and cutting up her food, he smiled.
    â€œLet’s make a toast,” he said with a nod at her milk glass. He’d introduced her to toasts on her birthday the previous August. He raised his coffee cup.
    â€œOh, goody!” Looking intent and serious and very grown-up, Maggie copied the gesture, using both hands to lift her milk.
    â€œTo a great day,” Ryan said. And a night free of scary dreams.
    Maggie clinked her glass against his cup, and they both sipped.
    â€œCan I make a toast, too, Daddy?”
    A thin line of milk coated her upper lip. Ryan resisted the urge to wipe it off until after this next toast. “Sure.”
    â€œI get to go to Sam’s birthday party today and wear my princess dress. Yay!” Chortling, she again clinked rims with Ryan.
    Not exactly a toast, but the giggles filling the room gladdened his heart.
    â€œCan we do it again?” Maggie asked, after all but draining her glass.
    Ryan swiped her mouth with his napkin. “Better not, or our food will get cold. Let’s eat.”
    As he’d predicted, his daughter left half her breakfast. When