She closed her eyes against the sunlight streaming through the windows, and took another deep breath, then another. Nothing had to be decided right now. What had to get done was the scrapbook. The first half needed to be in presentable shape for dinner tonight.
“Mama,” Scott said when they came into the room.
Rachel opened her eyes. Jonas stood there, cradling his son in his arms. Scott had his fists in Jonas’s shirt and was playing with his collar, looking as relaxed as she’d ever seen him.
Comfortable. Could their lives really go on without him after all was said and done? Rachel wasn’t so sure.
“Mama,” he said again, and father and son grinned at her, looking so much alike that it took her breath away.
“Come here, buddy.” She held out her arms to her son, and Jonas bent down, putting Scott carefully on the floor and helping him keep his balance. Within seconds, her son started across the carpet toward her. Rachel swept him up in her arms for a hug. He still had his baby sweetness about him, his body warm from the nap, and after a moment, he popped his head up from her shoulder and put his hands on her face.
“Lub you,” he said. It wasn’t the first time Scott had said the words to her, but it had been a while, and it delighted her down to the core.
“I love you too,” Rachel said, catching Jonas’s eyes over Scott’s head.
A thrum went through her, a shimmering, lifted feeling. Oh, no. She couldn’t be falling for him now. Not again. Three years ago, she’d tumbled into bed with him, intoxicated by the sight, scent, and sound of his very essence. And here she was doing it again.
Jonas crossed the room and stood in front of the window, morning light spilling down on his carved features. “What do you say, Rachel? Should we go for a walk?” Her first instinct was to refuse—there was still work to be done on the scrapbook.
“Yep, yep, yep,” Scott said, clapping his hands as he squirmed down from her lap and ran to his father.
Jonas caught the little boy’s hand in his. “Or Scott and I could go for a walk,” he added, “if you wanted more time by yourself, that is.”
“No.” She stood up and grabbed her camera. “The lighting is beautiful outside. Let’s go. I’ll get some shots and combine a little fun with work.”
The three of them bundled up and went out into the snow. Scott’s feet sank into it and he laughed, trying to run ahead and falling. Jonas followed closely, picking him up whenever he needed a lift, and holding his son’s hand as they went down a trail at the side of the ski hill.
The way the sunlight filtered through the trees and landed on the pair called out to Rachel. She lifted the camera to her face and took photo after photo of Jonas and Scott. She knew by instinct they would turn out gorgeous shots, and that they would be priceless. Her throat tightened at the thought that she might not have another chance to get pictures of them together so easily.
It never occurred to her before, not really. All throughout her pregnancy, she had assumed there was no way to ever get in touch with her baby’s father. It had been upsetting and sad, sure, but she’d put those feelings away when Scott was born. With a newborn, there was no time to mope around thinking about the family they didn’t have. Only long nights and long days that were still filled with moments of such deep joy. And wasn’t joy better when it was shared?
Jonas picked Scott up, holding him up in the sun. It was a classic parent-child pose—she used it all the time at family shoots—and she knew that Jonas would treasure this. Rachel could already see it in a frame on the mantel in his living room.
What else, though? What about the three of them? She shook her head, clearing the thoughts away. One spaghetti dinner wasn’t a pact to be together.
Jonas looked back at her. “What about you?”
“What about me what?” she asked.
“Don’t you want some photos?” He put Scott on his hip like he’d done it a hundred times, completely at ease. “Come on. Be in the pictures.”
Rachel held the camera close to her chest. “I don’t know about that.”
Jonas grinned at her from underneath the winter hat he wore—a blue and white cabled pattern with a puff on the top. “This might surprise you, but I know my way around a camera enough to take some photos. Are the settings where you want them?”
“Yes.”
Scott leaned toward her. Rachel handed Jonas the camera and took her son in her arms. She moved off, her heart beating hard in her throat. It was strange, hearing the shutter of her own camera and not being behind it. Rachel didn’t want to think about it, preferring to be in the moment. To enjoy the fall of light on her son’s hair and the laughter in his blue eyes. She rubbed her nose against his, the sound of the shutter clicking barely registering. It would be an incredible picture and one she’d treasure—if Jonas managed to get it in focus, that is.
She put Scott back on his feet and held his mitten-covered hands in hers, turning them around to face Jonas. He had the camera up to his face, but it didn’t hide Jonas’s wide smile.
“You look great,” he called. “The two of you look great.”
9
Jonas had gone to bed feeling as though he’d gained ground with Rachel. The dinner had gone off without a hitch, with her taking formal portraits of the family together. They’d been a good team with the scrapbook. He’d taken nice photos of her with Scott, and she hadn’t seemed too uncomfortable while doing the family portraits. The only problem had been that he’d missed Scott. Jonas half-regretted not inviting him to the dinner, but he was positive it was for the best.
Today was a new day and another photoshoot. One that started with a holiday lunch for no other reason than it was winter, and they were all living in limbo between Christmas and New Year’s. Nobody had plans, and everyone was on board with the lunch he suggested. He’d also let it slip that the photographer and her son would be invited just to pave the way. Rachel could take more photos, and he felt like he needed to make up for not inviting Scott to dinner.
Jonas knocked lightly before entering Rachel’s suite fifteen minutes before they were due at his grandmother’s apartment.
“Hi,” she said, looking flustered and beautiful as she patted at her hair, which was in an elegant knot at the back of her neck. “Are you sure about this? Come in a minute. I’m almost ready.”
He stepped further inside, taking in the scene—the scrapbook neatly perched on the desk, and Scott playing with a set of blocks in the center of the rug in the living area. The door swung shut behind them. “Am I sure about what?”
“Having us at lunch. Scott stayed with Lisa last night, and it worked out well. What changed?”
Jonas took a deep breath. “What changed is that I think you should both be there. You’ve been taking photos for days now, and you’ll be taking them through the New Year, and there’s no use pretending that you don’t have Scott with you.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes, searching his. “They’re going to ask questions.”
“Nobody’s going to ask questions,” he insisted, wanting so much to take her in his arms that it hurt. “They already know he’s here. The portraits are done. Do you have other plans to eat?”
“No,” she admitted, smiling a little. “I just want to be sure—”
“I’m sure.” He caught her hand in his and squeezed.
Rachel’s gaze landed on their joined hands and then snapped back up to his, her cheeks flushing.
A beat passed.
“Okay,” she said, whirling around. “Scott, look who’s here!”
He twisted around from his blocks, saw Jonas, and came running so quickly he stumbled over a stray toy and tumbled onto the carpet. Scott popped right back up, a grin in place.
“Hi, kiddo,” Jonas said.
“Hi. Hi.” Scott was a bundle of energy, jumping into his arms with such force, it surprised Jonas.
“Want to go have some lunch?” Jonas loved watching the different faces his son made, some serious and some comical, b
ut they all made him laugh.
“Yep.” Scott pointed to the door.
Rachel stepped to his side, patting her son warmly on the elbow. “Let’s go, buddy.”
“Yay!” Scott squealed but stayed put in Jonas’s arms, something that made his heart swell with love.
Fifteen minutes later, they stepped inside his grandmother’s apartment, which was teeming with activity. The rest of the family—his brothers, their significant others, and Tana’s daughter, Lindsey—had gathered around the big table in the dining room. The tension went out of Jonas’s shoulders. Oddly, he liked these kinds of meals—the ones that happened in the space between events. There was something more relaxed about them. Not so much pressure.
He introduced Scott to the group, and then the three of them sat at one end of the table near Tana and Lindsey. His sister-in-law immediately struck up a conversation with Rachel, hoping she’d get some action shots of Lindsey on the hills.
“I could try.” Rachel laughed. “I haven’t done much sports photography, but if we get a chance, I’ll take some photos. I’m sure we can get a few decent ones.”
The conversation flowed smoothly through the lunch. His brothers reminisced about Christmases past. Gabe told a story about the Christmas he got his first game system and stayed up all night playing it, only to feel so sick from lack of sleep the next morning that he didn’t play again for two weeks. Chase talked about sneaking out early to ski before it was light and falling over a divot in the snow.
Through it all, Jonas caught a few thoughtful looks from his brothers, and his grandmother propped her chin on her hand, watching Scott with interest as he ate.
Rachel held Scott on her lap and listened, a soft smile on her face, not seeming to notice any of the interest she was garnering.
“What do you normally do for Christmas when you’re not on last-minute jobs?” he asked her in a low voice while the others chattered on about favorite gifts and Christmastime treats.
“Oh—” Rachel snuggled Scott in close. “We keep it pretty low-key. This year Scott opened a gift early and then we headed here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” she said lightly. “I don’t visit my parents at Christmas anymore, and the friend group was celebrating on the evening of Christmas, so we missed it. But we’ll go next year.”
Scott picked up a crouton from his plate and chewed at it.
“No, that’s not good enough.”
She whipped her head around, eyebrows raised. “What’s not good enough?”
“You need a real Christmas.” Jonas had never been surer of anything in his life. She’d spent the day working for him.
“I hate to cut this short,” his grandmother said, regret lacing her voice. “But I’m tired—I think I need to rest.”
They all got up in a chorus of reassurances. Rachel thanked everyone for the meal and the company. She headed for the door with graceful speed, but Jonas caught her by the elbow.
“Meet me at my place in an hour?”
A curious light came to her eyes, and she glanced behind him to where the rest of his family was beginning to filter out. “All right,” she said. “One hour.”
It was the busiest hour of his life. Starting with a mad dash into town for supplies, and then a quick meeting with some of his staff members to coordinate the details for the crazy idea he wanted to put into action. He rushed back to his house to prepare things on his end with only fifteen minutes to spare.
Jonas barely made it, Rachel’s knock at the door announcing their arrival just as he put the star on the top of the new artificial tree he’d bought downtown.
“Come in,” he hollered. “It’s unlocked.”
Rachel came in on a stiff breeze, Scott in her arms, his cheeks pink from the cold. “I’m dying to know. What did you—oh.”
She’d come into the living room, and all the decorations he’d set out reflected back to him in her eyes. The tinsel on the tree. The little pile of gifts underneath. The soft Christmas music playing from his sound system.
“It’s a few days late.” He held out a hand to her, ushering her farther into the room. “But I hope this will do.”
“Jonas,” she said in hushed tones. “You didn’t have to do this. Our Christmas was completely fine. It was—”
“Down,” Scott said. “Down!” He struggled out of Rachel’s arms and went to the tree, his little face shining with awe. He cupped one of the lights on the branches in both hands, then crouched down to look at the wrapped gifts. Scott reached out with one hand to push at the paper, then spun to look questioningly at Jonas.
“Go ahead, kiddo.” He dropped to the carpet next to Scott, and Rachel followed. The three of them were sitting in the glow of the tree while Scott tore into the gift that Jonas handed him. He ripped the paper away piece by piece, then hugged the cardboard box to his chest.
The box. “Can I help you open that up?” Jonas asked, laughing, but Scott wouldn’t let him have it. “It’s a ball,” he told Rachel. “I have something for you, too.”
“Jonas, you really don’t—”
He reached across Scott and pulled a package from underneath the tree. “Open it.”
She bit her lip and ripped open the paper, revealing a cozy sweater with an elk across the front. Rachel threw her head back and laughed, gorgeous in the twinkling light. “I’m putting this on right now. Thank you.” Her eyes met his with incredible warmth, and then she was pulling it on, tugging it down over her shirt.
“We need a picture,” Jonas announced when Rachel was ready.
She pulled Scott into her lap and grinned, and he turned to sit next to them. He knew in that instant that he would always remember the sound of Rachel’s laughter as he took the photo.
“Aww, it’s good,” she said, leaning close as they looked at the photo on his phone. “We look happy.”
Nobody was happier than Scott, who marveled at the two other gifts. The paper held a certain fascination for him—probably the sound of it ripping—and he demolished the gifts down to their wrapping. One was a teddy bear that sang when you pushed its foot, and it was still in its cardboard packaging.
Scott wouldn’t let Jonas have it to cut it free of the plastic ties. Instead, he tucked it under his arm and carried it around, cardboard and all, while he ran in circles around the living room. Every second or third pass, he stopped again by the tree to lean in and see the lights.
Joy.
It was pure joy, and Jonas leaned back on his hands, marveling at the sight. Every heartbeat pulled him closer until he felt overwhelmed with emotion. The lightness in his chest—it had to be love. There was no other explanation. It was as piercing and as true as anything he’d ever felt.
He took Rachel’s hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.
She gasped. “Jonas?”
“Thank you.” He looked into her eyes as he said it. It was as if all the electricity in the universe had centered between the two of them. “Thank you so much for coming over.”
“I—” She blinked, cheeks flushing. “You’re welcome.” She squeezed his hand. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about Christmas.”
“I feel strongly about you,” he said. “About both of you having a good Christmas.”
“This is lovely,” she whispered, then cleared her throat.
He couldn’t let them leave. Or—he couldn’t let them leave without at least offering them space in his home. They belonged here. “Please stay for the night,” he asked, losing all the cool that usually accompanied him to his job and through his life.
“Where would Scott sleep?” Her teeth gnawed at her lower lip. “I don’t know if there’s a safe space for him here, and I don’t want you to have to rearrange your entire life just to fit us in.”
“My entire life.” He laughed. “I had a crib brought over from the lodge. It’s already in my spare bedroom.”
Scott stopped by the tree and rubbed at his eyes, a good indication they needed to fix
dinner. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be ready for bed. Rachel rubbed his back in small circles, then gathered him in.
One quick macaroni dinner later, he was ready for his PJs and bedtime. “Time to lie down,” Rachel said softly as she carried him to the bedroom.
Jonas hung back, watching as she pulled a spare pair of PJs from the diaper bag, changed him, and then helped him brush his teeth. He dropped a kiss on Scott’s forehead, letting Rachel lay him down in the crib. When she started to sing him a lullaby, Jonas stepped down the hall and took a seat at the edge of his bed.
A few minutes later, Rachel appeared in the doorway, looking as luscious as he’d ever seen her, a fire in her eyes. She came in confidently, pushing his knees apart to stand in the space between his legs. “Thank you for all the gifts,” she said, heat in her voice. “But, Jonas?”
His breath stopped. “Yeah?”
“There’s something else I want to unwrap.”
He put his hands on her waist. “What is it?”
“You.”
10
The fact was—Rachel wanted him.
She’d wanted him from the moment she first saw him three years ago, and she wanted him now, and this man—this man—had created a late Christmas for her just because she hadn’t had time to do it herself.
Jonas’s hands tightened on her waist as she leaned down, letting her fingers graze across his shoulders as she kissed him. He tasted good. Like mint and hope and something slightly forbidden. Should she have agreed to spend the night? Maybe not, but her desire was too powerful to be ignored.
Jonas groaned into her mouth. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this,” he said against her lips.
“I have some idea,” she answered.
He pulled her close then, and she was lost. Lost in the stubble at his chin and the strength of his muscles and the way his clothes fit against his skin so effortlessly. She was jealous of those clothes. The next time they came up for air, she tugged his sweater off, then his shirt.
The Billionaire’s Christmas Son: Elkin Brothers Christmas Book Three Page 6
