Free The Doctor's Christmas by Marta Perry

She stepped back, holding the door wide.
    â€œThat’s okay. Come in.”
    He stepped into the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively. “It always smells good in here.”
    â€œWe’re doing our Christmas cookie baking.” She glanced at the kids, then realized Robby had just slid a whole section of dough onto the chair, covering himself with flour in the process.
    â€œHold on a sec.” She rescued the dough, then dusted Robby off. “Let’s keep everything on the table, okay?”
    Robby nodded, stuffing another piece in his mouth.
    She heard a low chuckle from behind her.
    â€œI never knew cookie baking was so hazardous.” Grant leaned over to look, keeping a careful distance between himself and the mist of flour in the air. “Maybe you ought to wear masks.”
    â€œA little flour never hurt anyone. You can’t make cut-out cookies without also making a mess.”
    She was suddenly aware of her appearance, her sweatshirt dotted with a fine white dust and her jeans probably bearing the marks where she’d wiped her hands. Grant, of course, looked spotless in khakis and a forest-green sweater.
    â€œI wouldn’t know about that,” he said. “I’ve never made any cookies.”
    Immediately three pairs of blue eyes focused on Grant’s face.
    â€œYou never made Christmas cookies?” Joey sounded incredulous. “Everybody makes Christmas cookies with their mama.”
    Was she imagining it, or did Grant’s face stiffen?
    â€œNot me,” he said.
    Tacey slid off her chair. She reached out tentatively and tugged at Grant’s hand. “You can make my share,” she whispered, as if afraid to speak out loud in his presence.
    Maggie’s throat tightened. Did Grant realize what a generous gift the little girl had offered?
    No, of course he didn’t. He didn’t know that Tacey never voluntarily got within reach of a man’s hand. He didn’t know how rare something as simple as a quiet afternoon baking cookies was for her.
    Grant looked down at the child with surprise and a hint of some other emotion flickering in his eyes. “I don’t want to take yours,” he said softly.
    â€œWe all share.” Joey’s voice was firm, and he gave Robby a look that dared him to disagree.
    Robby nodded. “Share. Mommy says share.”
    Maggie waited for Grant to make some excuse that would take him right back out the door, but instead he nodded.
    â€œThen I’d like to.”
    Well, so much for keeping Grant away from the kids. “If you’re going to bake, you’d best take off that sweater. Or I have an apron you could wear.”
    The corner of Grant’s mouth twitched. “Think I’ll pass on the apron.” He peeled off his sweater, revealing a cream button-down shirt. “Will this do?”
    She nodded. “At least it’s pretty much the same color as the flour. And you can wash it.”
    What was Grant doing about his laundry? It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder. She suspected he wasn’t used to doing it for himself.
    â€œThat’s fine.” He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves back. “I’m ready. Somebody show me what to do. Tacey?”
    Afflicted with sudden shyness, Tacey shook her head, finger in her mouth.
    â€œIt’s easy,” Joey said. “Just press down with the cutter, like this, and then Maggie will help you put the cookie on the sheet.”
    â€œI imagine Dr. Grant can do that for himself,” Maggie said.
    Grant, head bent as he cut out a reindeer, tilted his face toward her. He smiled, a strand of brown hair falling onto his brow, his eyes crinkling. “I have to have Maggie’s help, too. I’d probably break off a reindeer’s leg if I tried to do it myself.”
    His smile had the same effect on her as opening the oven door had. She could only hope he’d think her rosy cheeks were from the