The kiss is over too soon as he pulls back, leaving me standing there like an idiot; head back, eyes closed, lips ready for more, deeper, longer loving.

I open my eyes and find he’s studying me. “Was there more?” I ask and he arches an eyebrow at me.

“More…?” he asks and I roll my eyes at him. Like he doesn’t know what I’m asking. What an ass.

“More to talk about?” I ask in a playfully mocking tone as I walk around to get in the passenger side of the car. We both sit down and close our doors in unison. He’s quick to kick on the heat and slow to speak his mind. But I know there’s more. I can feel it. It’s like he’s looking for just the right way to break bad news.

“Just say it,” I say and he glances at me in surprise. I meet his gaze and hold it with my own. “Whatever’s on your mind, just say it. The suspense is killing me,” I tell him, resisting the urge to shift in my seat.

He grins like he’s enjoying my discomfort and I kind of want to smack him over the head. Jerk.

“Your father is a good guy,” He says. “I talked to the people who worked with him before and they had nothing but good things to say about him. Everyone was surprised when he got fired.”

He seems sad and angry and I wonder what’s going on in his mind. What isn’t he telling me? But I nod. What he’s saying sounds about right.

And Gavin continues to speak. “They said he’s got a passion for food and is actually a really good chef. He stepped in to cover for the Sous Chef once and nailed it better than the person doing the job.”

I grin, remembering the look on dad’s face when he’d come home that day. He’d been so thrilled, like his zest for living had been revived. I know he’d hoped with everything he had that the position would be permanent. He’d done so well and he knew it. Everyone had been so grateful he’d saved their asses.

But things had just slid back to normal once the Sous chef came back. He’d been disappointed, but still grateful he had a job when so many people are worse off than he was. Because that’s the kind of guy he is. When life screws him over, he smiles and makes the best of it. It’s a trait I admire.

“So,” Gavin says, and I tune back in to what he has to say. “I was wondering if he’d take a full position as a head chef.”

Excitement bubbles up in me but Gavin holds up a hand to cut off the torrent of words boiling over in me. He continues to speak before I can. “He’s got the qualifications. We’d be lucky to have him.”

I try to swallow back my excitement and just listen. There’s a catch. There always is.

“I’m going to be opening a new kitchen not too far from here,” Gavin says and I feel that surge of excitement welling up again. “It wouldn’t be a terrible commute. I would also issue a public apology for the turmoil caused.”

I shake my head. “You don’t need to humiliate yourself. I know you’re not the reason this happened.” He seems surprised and I can’t help but smile as I talk. “I’ve gotten to know you pretty well, I think, over the last week. You’re a good guy no matter how hard you try to convince me otherwise.”

He nods. “It’s easier to be the monster people expect than someone they don’t” he says in a tone so soft I have to strain to hear him over the heaters.

That makes more sense than I’d like to admit.

“I think dad would love it,” I say, thinking about how incredible of a Christmas gift this is. This will fix everything, all of our problems, everything. “Thank you,” I say, leaning in to kiss him.

He kisses me back, then pulls away. “Don’t thank me,” he says, his dark eyes twinkling. “I didn’t do it for you; I did it because it’s the right thing to do.”

I kiss him again, a grin on my face. Look at him throwing my words back at me, after slightly twisting them to fit this situation.

“You’re cute,” I say and he shakes his head. “He’s going to be so happy,” I say as I pull away and settle into my seat. Lifting my hands to the heaters, I enjoy the warmth, but it finally feels like my very soul is warming over from the ice that had formed around it the day dad came home and told me he’d been fired.

We’ll be a little behind on bills, but we’ll catch up pretty quick. And a job like that with higher pay means he’ll have a chance to start some savings. Things are finally looking up for us.

“When do you want to tell him?” I ask.

But Gavin shakes his head. “When do you want to tell him?” He asks and I blink in surprise. He doesn’t even want to be the one sharing the good news he made possible? I think that, in my mind, is the mark of a truly good person. When someone does something amazing and doesn’t even want credit for it. He really is doing it because it’s the right thing to do. And that warms my heart more than any Christmas carol or present.

I don’t care what anyone thinks or says. Gavin Rossi is a good guy. Maybe he wasn’t always. Maybe he wasn’t before. But he’s only ever tried to do right by me and mine, and that’s what matters to me.

“How about now?” I suggest and Gavin puts the car in gear with a grin.

“I thought you’d never suggest it,” he says, giving me a quick kiss before pulling out of the parking lot and pointing the nose of his car toward my house.