Page 67 of Puppy Christmas

“So we are,” Lila murmured, restraining a similar impulse to trace the lines of her own figure. She kept her hands clasped tightly in her lap instead, struggling to work through the feelings evoked by the images Ford had rendered of her.

She could feel him hovering in the background—not anxious, but obviously hoping for some kind of response.

“Well?” he asked. “How did I do? It’s a pretty good likeness, wouldn’t you say? I hope you don’t mind that I brazenly stole your lizard idea. Once it was in my head, it was impossible to rout out again.”

She had no idea what to say. The woman looked like her; that was for sure. She had the same wide mouth and large facial features, her eyebrows slanted at the exact angle of her own. The body was similar, too, insofar as a cartoon lizard woman could be said to resemble an actual human being. But there was something else…

“See that?” Ford leaned close, hovering at her back. He dipped his head so it was level with her own, smelling faintly of aftershave. “That’s how you look when Jeeves doesn’t follow your order the first time around, and you haven’t yet decided whether it’s your fault or his. That one right there is the exact way you stand when you’re trying not to let your emotions show. Andthat’sthe way your lips twitch whenever you don’t want to admit that I’m hilarious.”

She turned her head just enough to gaze up at him, her senses swirling in confusion. Ford wasn’t talking about her likeness in terms of nasal structures and bust-to-waist ratios. He meant things like her mannerisms and habits. He was setting out to capture herpersonality.

“Does that mean this is how I look when I’m fighting evil?” she asked. She pointed at a particularly badass version of Lizard Lila flying through the air with one leg out in a fierce and painfully high kick.

His laughter shook them both. “Well, I had to use some artistic license for that one. But, yes, that’s how I imagine you look when you’re fighting evil. It’s a Krampus, actually. He’s trying to steal Christmas, but you and Emily and Jeeves are determined to stop him. You’ll do it, too, if I ever get to the end.”

“You will.”

He hesitated for a moment before she felt him shrug. “Maybe. Like I said before, I was only drawing them for fun. It’s not very…useful work.”

She began neatly stacking the pages before handing them to Emily to browse at her leisure. “It might not be useful work, but it’s good. It’sgreat, actually. You could probably sell this to someone. You’re talented.”

He seemed strangely reluctant to accept this. “I’m all right. And it seems to make Emily happy, which is what really matters.”

If the smile on the little girl’s face as she flipped through was anything to go by, itdidmake Emily happy. It also made Lila happy and Ford happy and, she was guessing, would provide infinite amusement to her sisters and Harrison. Even Patrick might wring out a smile at seeing her portrayed in such a state of reptilian disarray.

“What do you call it?” she asked. “The title of the book, I mean?”

“Doodles by Ford, installment number three thousand and fifteen. The Christmas Krampus edition.”

She looked a question at him, surprised to find that his ears were tipped with red again. He gave a one-shouldered shrug, his eyes not quite meeting her own. “It should look great next to installment three thousand and fourteen, although that one has a lot more areolas in it. Not yours, in case you’re worried.”

She placed her hand over his and refused to move it away until his eyes met hers. She needed him to see how much she loved these pictures, to realize how grateful she was for the portrayal. Ford had capitalized on her biggest fears and turned her into the literal personification of her cold, reptilian ways, and she couldn’t be more delighted about it. He’d turned her not into a woman who kept everyone at arm’s length, but a princess, a superhero, a force of good in the world. He’d assumed that being a lizard person was something to cherish and admire—something to be proud of, in fact.

And for the first time in her life, shewas.

“You’re doing it again,” she said and didn’t wait for him to ask what. “Telling a joke. Making the lady laugh instead of saying what you’re really thinking. Have you ever tried to sell any of the comics you’ve drawn?”

He slid his hand out from under hers. “That’s not really the point of them.”

“But you have a gift for drawing and a gift for making people laugh,” she said. “It seems like an awful waste to spend it all on coffee makers.”

“Don’t tell that to the coffee makers,” he quipped.

Frustration took shape in the pit of her stomach, a hot rock lodged in place. From the moment she’d met this man, she’d been thrown off-kilter by how easy he made everything look. He laughed and teased, joked and played. He treated life like one big game—and it was a game he was clearly winning, if the way people reacted to him was any indication. They loved him. All of them—the Anyas and Patricks of the world, the Helens and the Maddies and the Danicas. Her sisters were in raptures, and she’d even seen that scary Principal Brown crack a smile in his presence.

But hehatedthose coffee makers, sighed every time he pulled himself away from Emily and put his pen to paper. The only time she’d ever seen him look unhappy was when he was sitting at his desk with his head bent to his work.

“I’m serious, Ford,” she said. “Even if nothing comes of it, you have to put yourself out there. You have totry. Don’t you want more out of life than this?”

She punctuated thethiswith a swift glance at his drafting desk, where the scattered pages of his coffee maker project lay in wait. He followed the line of her gaze, though his took a more circuitous route to include the rest of the kitchen, which bore all the untidy hallmarks of regular home-cooked meals. Without losing any of the strain in his mouth or in his eyes, he opened his mouth to reply…

But was beaten to the punch by Emily, who tilted her head in consideration and asked, “Daddy, what’s an areola?”

Lila’s hands flew to her mouth in a gurgle of laughter, which she was unable to suppress in time. Ford, too, couldn’t seem to help but recognize the futility of holding this kind of conversation while Emily was in the room. Even though she probably hadn’t heard enough to make real sense of what they said, she caught the occasional word.

Swooping down to scoop her in his arms, Ford said, “It’s an atmospheric phenomenon, moppet. The areola borealis, when the nighttime sky turns green. You can usually only see it in Alaska during the winter.”

“Oh,” Emily said, accepting this deflection at face value. “Okay. That sounds neat.”

“Itisneat,” he agreed. “And later, we’ll look at some pictures of it online. But right now, you need to go wash your face and hands so you can help me make dinner.”

Emily agreed to this plan with her usual good humor, taking herself off with Jeeves following placidly behind.

“That’s going to make for an interesting science project someday,” Lila murmured as she watched them go. “Maybe you should have spelled that one out.”

“Perhaps,” Ford agreed. The constrained note in his voice was still there, but he didn’t acknowledge it. For whatever reason, the subject of his work was one he wasn’t willing to broach—not even in jest. “But I, for one, would much rather watch the night sky light up with areolas than a few paltry green swirls. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m rather partial to—”

“I remember,” she said quickly. She also examined him closely, wondering how far she could push the subject. In the end, she decided she’d already taken all the ground she was going to get. “I’m also starting to wonder if there’s any part of the female form you’renotpartial to.”

“None that I’ve found yet,” he said and winked. “But you know me. I’m always willing to take a deeper look.”