The resiny fragrance of the Christmas tree filled the room, and a fire crackled in the fireplace. Christmas carols played on the stereo. The Kennedy family frolicked around the tree admiring the ornaments which brought back fond memories.

Tyler took a sip of spiced apple cider and closed his eyes, remembering his favorite ornaments, his Baby’s First Christmas star, the teddy bear caboose, and his set of Army men. He wasn’t even sure his mother had kept anything after his father died. They’d lost the farm and moved to a dingy apartment, too small for trees, parties, and fun.

“Who wants to put up the star?” Peggy held up the golden star ornament. “I can’t reach it.”

“Me, me, me!” Bree jumped and clapped, grasping for it.

“But you can’t reach it either.” Peggy jiggled Bree’s cheek. “You picked a big old tree.”

Kelly leaned over the back of the sofa and squeezed his shoulders. “Penny for your thoughts? You seem to be far away.”

He set the mug of cider on the coffee table and whispered, “Do you mind if I help Bree put up the star?”

“Go ahead, and thanks for asking.”

His consideration earned him a smile, one which seemed to wrap him in a warm blanket. He wanted Kelly, wished things could be different. Emotions flooded him along with images of them in a mountain cabin huddled in a thick down comforter.

Bree tapped his knees, breaking his train of thought. “Ty, pick me up. I wanna put the star.”

“Okay, missy.” Tyler lifted her and stood at the same time, placing her onto his shoulders.

“Whee! That’s fun. Do it again.” Bree grabbed his hair with one hand and bounced on the back of his neck.

“The star first.”

“Wait, wait.” Peggy waved for Ella and Jaden to gather around. “Who wants to do the reading?”

“I will.” Kelly reached for the Bible. “Or Tyler, do you want to?”

“Sure.” Tyler maneuvered himself to Kelly’s side while she held the Bible and pointed to the passages. “When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was. When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh.”

“Bree, what does the star stand for?” Peggy shook Bree’s chubby little foot.

“Jesus!” she squealed. “It’s his birthday.”

“Right. We should be like that star and lead people to Christ.”

“Yay.” Bree bounced and squirmed. “I get to put the star up.”

Tyler’s heart warmed as he lifted Bree up high and held her. She was so trusting, and when she was finished, he turned her in his arms and hugged her.

“You’ll never get rid of her now,” Ella said as she shut off the video camera.

“What do you mean?”

“I want Ty to throw me up and catch me,” Bree said.

“Hope you like the workout.” Kelly pinched his waist. “What? No love handles? We’re going to have to fix that, won’t we? Ready to eat?”

“So, what’s going on between you and Tyler?” Ella and I are elbows deep in dishwater. Mother’s annual tree-trimming dinner was a rousing success, and Tyler must have eaten enough for an entire team of football players. After dessert, Tyler and Jaden took Mother and Bree out for a stroll to work off the calories.

“Nothing yet.” I hand her a plate. “He’s attractive.”

“Understatement of the year. He’s a frickin hunk, and the thing is, he doesn’t think he’s hot.”

“He has his issues.” I’m pretty sure Mother’s updated Ella on everything, filling in the gaps with speculation and embellishments. “I’m not sure why Mom insists on including him. I mean, Bree might get the wrong idea.”

“Which is?” Ella stacks the dried dish onto a pile.

“I’m sure you heard about her obsession for finding her father.”

“Oh, yes. Over and over from both Bree and Mom. But honestly, I think you should be thinking about yourself instead of what Mom and Bree want.”

I juggle a glass, almost dropping it. “I’m not interested in dating. I have my daughter. I’m going to get my career back. I don’t need distractions. Especially a guy who has fits. You saw what he did with Bree?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t really hurt her. He just has quick reflexes.”

“He has post traumatic stress disorder. He takes psych meds, goes to therapy.” And his kisses are out of this world. And he’s kind and protective and honorable. Argh.

“Everyone has problems.” Ella slaps me with a dishtowel. “Does he know you’ve been in jail?”

“Shhh …” I look over my shoulder. Thankfully they’re not back. “I’m ashamed of what I did. Anyway, he doesn’t need to know. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything.”

“Keep saying that.” Ella quirks her eyebrow. “All I see are sparks flying between you two. It’s like the air is charged with lightning, and you can’t keep your hands or eyes off each other. You looked so guilty when we got back from Christmas tree shopping.”

My face heats from her teasing tone. “We weren’t done with the garlands. You know how Mom is.”

Ella giggles. “Of course you weren’t done, because you were otherwise occupied. I bet he’s an awesome kisser.”

“Who’s an awesome kisser?” Jaden’s voice sneaks up behind us.

“How’d you get back without us hearing?” Ella jumps to her tippy toes and kisses him.

Their smacks and smooches are loud and exaggerated. I turn the water to full blast and scrub the roasting pan.

Tyler’s a homeless vet. Tyler has PTSD. Tyler’s unemployed. Tyler’s a free spirit. If Tyler gets back on his feet, he’ll have a million women after him. Tyler’s not for me, and I don’t need him. But I can’t help wanting him. What’s wrong with me?

“Whee!” Bree squeals. “Throw me again.”

And he’s so good with Bree. What’s not to like?

“One more time. Ty needs a rest.” Even the star athlete sounds out of breath. Well, Bree can do that, for sure.

I glance at the clock. It’s way past Bree’s bedtime. Time to be the bad guy. Wiping my hands on my apron, I cross to the living room.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” I hold out my hands for Bree.

A relieved looking Tyler hands her over and wipes the hair off his forehead. “She’s a ball of energy.”

I make a show of sniffing her. “You need a bath, missy.”

“No, I don’t. I smell like Ty.”

Uh, well, there’s his cologne on her, mixed with dirt, peppermint candy, and fruit snacks.

“Say bye bye to Ty. It’s bath time.” I remove her boots and hang up her jacket.

Bree hugs onto Tyler’s knees. “Want Ty to give me bath.”

“Sorry, Ty has to leave.” I take her hand, but she slaps herself on the ground.

“No, leave. No. No. No.” Her face scrunches beet red, and she lets out a howl. “I want Ty to be my papa.”

“We already went over this.” I drag her off the floor. “Ty’s not your father. You don’t have a father. You don’t need a father.”

Bree wails louder. “I want Ty to be papa. Give me a bath and read me stories.”

“No, you don’t.” Pressure explodes over my temples, and my head throbs. “Mama will give you a bath and Nana reads you stories or Auntie Ella.”

“No. No. No.” She’s beyond reasoning. “I want Papa tuck me in. I pwayed real hard and Santa pwo-mised.”

“Nana has a surprise for you,” Mother says, squeezing a rubber duckie. “It’s in the bathroom.”

“Want papa.” Bree kicks and struggles toward Tyler’s direction. Tears bathe her face, and she’s crying as if her heart is breaking.

I yank her into the bathroom. She’s in full meltdown mode, and it takes all my strength to pull off her clothes and put her into the bathtub.

Thankfully her exhaustion overcomes her will, and after splashing and pouting and kicking, she eventually gives up. After I pull her out of the tub and dress her, I carry her to the bed she uses when visiting my mother.

“I want my papa,” she lisps before tucking her thumb in her mouth. A tiny tear trails down the side of her chubby cheek, and her lips quiver.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.” I kiss her. Maybe I was wrong to conceive her through artificial means. Maybe I was selfish and foolish, to think she wouldn’t care.

I wipe a tear from my eye and kneel at the side of her bed to pray.