A Broken Christmas Read Free Page B

responsible for not clearing out of Saif’s hut the minute he suspected something wasn’t right.
    “Kyle?”
    Aimee’s quiet voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts, and he realized he’d stopped walking. His right leg was behind him again, his foot angled out perpendicular to his body. Damn it. Not even fifty feet, and he already managed to look like a fool.
    Bracing his weight on his cane, he hitched his body in the opposite direction until his leg stood beneath him once more, toes pointing forward. He tested the numb limb by bending his knee. It moved, but he couldn’t feel a thing. Only the odd sense of pressure as he set his heel back down. Like someone had permanently injected his leg with Novocain.
    He didn’t answer Aimee. Instead, he moved forward again, sighting in on the closest golf cart.
    “So, I get the silent treatment still? C’mon, Kyle. At least say hello.”
    His gaze skidded sideways, observing her in his peripheral vision. One hand still tucked into his elbow, she kept the other in her coat pocket. She ducked her chin into her collar to keep out the December breeze. For all intents and purposes, she looked adorable. Soft, pretty, and made to snuggle up with by a fire.
    Kyle let out a heavy sigh. “Hello, Aimee.”
    She tipped her face toward him. Long ebony lashes fluttered up, and a smile crinkled the corners of her ale-brown eyes. “It’s good to see you, Kyle.”
    It was good to see her too—too damn good. That angelic, lip-glossed smile had his pulse jumping, cranking his body into one slow, but certain knot. If he broke down and kissed her, she’d taste like bubble gum. And judging by the freezing cold weather, probably like Starbucks Mocha Mint. This time of year, she went nuts on those things.
    Before he could stop himself, a smile pulled at his mouth.
    “You look good,” she commented as they reached the golf carts.
    He chuckled. “Yeah, right.” Shaking off her arm, he eased behind the wheel. He crossed his left foot over his right so he could manipulate the gas pedal. “I hear canes are high fashion.”
    Frowning, she tugged off his cap to run her fingers through his hair. The absent gesture sent delightful chills rolling down his spine, and for a moment, he struggled to breathe. Then, as if she’d realized what she had done, she jerked her hand away and smashed his cap back on his head. “No, you look good.”
    Before Kyle could fully recover from the unexpected intimacy of her fingertips, she rounded the front of the cart and slid into the seat beside him. He blinked. “What are you doing?”
    “Going to the car.”
    The car. His car was still in their driveway. She’d dropped him off the day he shipped out. Her car should be seventy-five meters in the opposite direction, where her veteran’s permit allowed her to park.
    “I’m heading to the gates for a cab, not going to the lot.”
    Aimee folded her hands in her lap and shook her head. “No you’re not. I’m taking you to the house.”
    Alarm bells blared in Kyle’s head. He had survived ten minutes with her. Any more than that, and he’d crack.
    No way would he make it through the twenty-minute ride across town to his house without forgetting he’d divorced this woman. He swallowed down a sudden bout of nervousness and struggled for a casual smile. “Really, a cab’s great. Thanks though.”
    To his absolute surprise, she reached across the seat between them and set her hand on his right knee. The surreal awareness he was being touched combated with the inability to feel more than a slight weight, provoking him to frown at her hand. As his gaze fell on the wedding ring she still wore, he’d have sworn someone kicked him in the gut.
    “No, Kyle,” she said quietly. “I know you think you can do this alone. But there’s no way you can handle that house and those stairs.” She gestured at his cane, driving home her point. “I’m taking you home, and you’re just going to have to deal with me until