by Lizzie Shane
“What do you say?” Ty asked. “Is the tree complete?”
Jade stood back, admiring their work—and Ty had to admit that the ugly thing actually looked surprisingly good, all decked out. All the Charlie Brown-ness had been smothered by decorations until it almost looked like a regular tree.
“It’s perfect,” Jade declared—and Ty felt something shift in his chest.
Perfect.
Chapter Thirteen
The Santa Clause 2 was a godsend.
Ty and Jade gave the movie their full concentration, but during the commercials they would chat about Christmas traditions or any nonsense that came to mind. He told her he’d just finished promoting a Christmas movie—and promised to take her to see it when they were close to a movie theater again, taking it as a personal victory when Jade didn’t seem entirely opposed to the idea. She’d even taken off her jacket—carefully folding it up to use as a pillow.
Andi joined them midway through the film, flopping down beside Ty and declaring she was only taking a short break while the dough chilled—but within five minutes she was out cold, her head resting on his shoulder.
On the next commercial break, Jade eyed Andi’s position, resting against Ty. “Andi’s nice,” she commented meaningfully.
“She is,” he agreed, keeping his voice soft so the rumble wouldn’t wake the subject of their conversation. “But we aren’t… that is—”
“I know,” Jade saved him from himself. “Andi explained. Do you already have a girlfriend?”
“No. No one like that.”
“Why not?”
Ty stared at the commercial dancing across the screen, hoping desperately for the movie to come back on. “Ah…”
Because he wasn’t good at committing. Because his mother had been the only person he’d ever loved, the only person who had ever really meant anything, and when she died, he’d lost sight of how to love like that. Because he was a spoiled child who enjoyed the milk for free far too much, just like Andi accused him of being.
But he couldn’t say any of that to Jade. He wanted her to see him as better than he was.
He looked at the girl, at the face so like his own. “We have a lot in common, you know.”
A frown pulled between her brows. “We do?”
“I was raised by a single mom too. Best mom in the world. She died a few years ago.”
Jade swallowed, her mouth working. “Do you miss her?”
“I miss her like crazy. Every day.” The movie came back on, but Jade didn’t reach for the remote to unmute the television, watching him instead. “I never knew my dad,” he admitted. “I never wanted to know him since he didn’t want to know me.” He met Jade’s eyes, making sure she saw the sincerity in his. “That isn’t what this is. You know that, right? I didn’t know about you, but if I had I would have wanted to know you. I want to know you now.”
She studied him, weighing his words. “You seemed mad when you found out who I was.”
“I was mad,” he admitted. “But not at you. I was upset because your mom never told me. Mad that she kept you away from me and made it so we never got to know each other.” He’d been frustrated, blindsided, reeling, but also mad at Laura for deciding he wasn’t good enough without even giving him a chance to change. He wanted to believe he was the kind of man who could have changed for Jade. Who could change now.
“I’m glad I can get to know you now. Really glad,” he said. “I just wish you could have met my mom. She would have loved you.” She’d always wanted to be a grandmother. “I always miss her the most at Christmas.”
“I miss my mom, too,” Jade whispered. Andi shifted in her sleep, her charm bracelet jingling, and Jade glanced over at the sound. “Do you believe in angels?”
“Absolutely.” He swallowed around the thickness in his throat. “And I bet your mom would make a really good one.”
“Yeah.”
They stared at the screen where the movie continued though he had a feeling neither of them were really seeing it. It had to be harder for her. She hadn’t just lost her mother. She’d lost her entire world. He’d even overheard her tell Andi that she had to leave all her books behind when she went to live with her aunt. “Do you have pictures of your mom? Things that help you remember her?”
Jade reached into the inside pocket of the coat she’d been using as a pillow and pulled out a small, tattered photo. Two faces, smiling side-by-side, Jade and Laura. Both so beautiful it hurt.
Ty’s throat closed. “We’re gonna find your aunt and make sure you have more pictures of her,” he promised, the words choked. “And you can always talk about her, okay? About your memories. Anytime you want.”
Jade nodded mutely, and turned the sound back on for the movie.
* * * * *
Andi woke up disoriented, with her head pillowed on something hard. She stretched, opening her eyes, and realized the hard thing was a thigh. Ty’s thigh, to be precise.
“Good morning, beautiful. You missed The Santa Clause 2, but you’re just in time for Elf.”
Andi sat up with a jerk, nearly nailing Ty on the chin in the process. “Sorry!”
“Don’t worry. I dodged.”
Andi stood, her face flaming, moving quickly toward the kitchen. “I can’t believe I fell asleep on you like that. I didn’t sleep well last night and I must have drifted off—”
Ty rose and followed her to the kitchen area, though Jade stayed behind, giggling at Will Ferrell’s antics. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. It worked out well.” He lowered his voice. “Gave Jade and me a chance to talk.”
“You talked to her?”
“About my mom. Her mom. Christmas.” He leaned closer, whispering now. “Do you think she still believes in Santa? I tried to pump her for information during The Santa Clause, but I couldn’t tell. How old do kids usually catch onto that kind of thing?”
“I don’t know.” She pitched her voice low to match his as she preheated the oven. “I think it varies? I can ask my mom. Or Kendall’s about the same age. I can ask my aunt if Kendall still does Santa.”
He grimaced. “I need to figure this stuff out.”
“You’ll get it,” she assured him—and realized abruptly what this feeling was that had been niggling at her ever since he told her that he’d talked to Jade. Or really ever since this morning when she’d started to see Jade and Ty taking their first tentative steps toward becoming a family. This complicated mishmash of pleasure and regret that he didn’t need her to run interference with Jade anymore.
She wouldn’t need to take care of Jade anymore if Ty stepped up to the plate and a tiny little part of her was actually disappointed by that—even as the rest of her rejoiced at the sign that those two might manage to connect. She’d always liked being needed—she’d been the perfect housewife and then the perfect assistant because she loved nothing better than taking care of people—but if these two didn’t need her anymore, if she wasn’t rearranging her life to make things better for them, what was left?
She took the giant bowl of cookie dough from the refrigerator.
Baking. Baking was left. She would go through the motions of Christmas spirit until she felt it in her heart. And she would try not to think about what she would feel when Jade and Ty truly didn’t need her anymore.
“Jade?” she called into the main room. “Do you want to help?”
* * * * *
“What do you think she wants for Christmas?” Ty asked later that night in the single bedroom as he puttered around, getting ready for bed.
After an afternoon of making batch after batch of cookies and a dinner of Hamburger Helper—which doubtless would have offended Ty’s nutritionist but Jade had declared was her favorite—they’d decorated gingerbread men with Christmas movies playing in the background until Jade had fallen asleep on the pull out, her face turned adoringly toward the Christmas tree. Neither of them had the heart to suggest the girl relocate to
the bedroom, so here they were again. Sharing. And discussing Jade’s Christmas presents in what felt like an entirely too intimate domestic scene. Like an old married couple.
Andi had been half of that old married couple before and it hadn’t ended well for her. She didn’t want to watch Ty unpacking his toiletry kit and a fresh pair of boxers and a T-shirt to sleep in. They didn’t have that kind of relationship—but if Ty was at all aware of the intimacy of their actions, he didn’t let on.
“Do you think she’d like a Play Station or something virtual reality? I don’t know what the hot toys are this year. She’s too young for a car and I’d thought about getting her a computer, but that’s not even really a present. Like a cell phone. She needs one anyway.”
Trust a celebrity to immediately gravitate toward the most extravagant gifts. If he’d had a baby, he probably would have given it a jewel encrusted rattle.
Andi knelt to unzip her suitcase. “The important thing is that you get her something that’s right for her, not necessarily whatever the hot gadget of the season is.”
He straightened from his bag, electric toothbrush in one hand. “I know, but I only have two days to find the perfect gift.”
“She likes to read,” Andi suggested, fishing her own toothbrush out of her bag. “Have you ever noticed how all the characters in kids’ books have lost at least one parent?”
“So a Kindle?” he asked, still locked on presents. “Is that really special enough? I want to see her face light up, you know?” He vanished toward the bathroom to brush his teeth and Andi stared after him.
She did know, but she couldn’t reconcile the fact that Ty—whom she’d always believed thought only of himself, first last and always—was starting to think of what Jade might want and need. She’d wanted him to want to be a father, but it was disorienting to see it actually happening.
She’d watched him today with Jade. Decorating the tree. Baking cookies. Taking smug pride in creating the world’s ugliest gingerbread man just to make his daughter laugh. And her heart had lurched in her chest with a confused cocktail of emotions.
Andi had always written him off as the kind of guy whose charm was a result of the fact that he needed to be fed a steady diet of adoration at all times, but now she started to see something else in his smoothness. A desire to please. A sincere wish to make those around him happy. And that was harder to dismiss.
She was starting to see that underneath all his Hollywood glamour and man-whore ways, Ty Walker was actually a really good guy.
One who genuinely wanted to find his daughter the perfect present. And Andi had always prided herself on her present giving prowess.
“I have it!” Ty reappeared, wearing the boxers and shirt, smelling of mint and looking entirely too good as he brandished his toothbrush like a wand. “Harry Potter World. That’s what Kendall’s parents said was too expensive, right? She’d love that.”
“She probably would love it, but presents don’t have to be over the top to be special.” Andi averted her eyes, focusing on her own nighttime routine. “A Kindle is good for traveling, but Jade’s life has been so unstable lately and having your books around you is like being surrounded by friends. Maybe a Kindle so she never has to worry about leaving them behind, but also bookshelves in her room back at your place that she can fill to make herself feel more settled?”
Ty’s easy expression flickered to a frown. “Are we sure she should be settling in?”
Andi nearly groaned. I thought we were past this. “You still want to get rid of her?”
“No. Stop jumping to conclusions. But we still don’t know where she came from or if someone is trying to get her back. I’ll want to be in her life in some capacity, now that I know she’s mine, but legally, she isn’t mine. Not yet. Which is why Harry Potter World is a good idea. It’s something we can do even if we aren’t, you know, full time.”
He had a point. Legally, he had no rights to Jade yet. Just as Andi had no rights to either of them.
Andi gathered up her pajamas and toiletries, avoiding looking at Ty. “I’m going to change.”
Chapter Fourteen
Andi took her time changing into her pajamas—the loose flannel pants and a navy blue tank-top had never seemed boring before, but she usually wasn’t sleeping beside Ty Walker. Not that he was likely to notice what she slept in. Not that she should care. God, when had everything become so tangled?
She brushed her teeth and braided her hair for the night so she didn’t wake up with another tangled mess. As her fingers wove through the familiar motions, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Ty had said.
As her father—and a celebrity—he ought to have a strong case, but she knew virtually nothing about custody law and nothing was certain. He knew he might not be able to keep Jade, he knew he could be setting himself up for heartache by caring for her, but he wasn’t holding himself back, wasn’t shying away from an attachment that might make it harder for them both down the line. He was throwing himself into things with typical Ty enthusiasm.
She’d always attributed his blithe, lets-do-this attitude to his charmed life, but now it looked different to her. He was brave. Emotionally brave. Brave in a way Andi wasn’t. She’d been shying away from attachments for years. Ever since she’d been burned by Mark.
She didn’t date. She didn’t really let anyone into her life. She tried to keep her heart safe—but all she really did was reduce her life to a series of appointments. Her neat and tidy schedules. She’d sucked the emotions out of her relationships—and at first she’d needed that. She’d been so wrecked when Mark had blindsided her with the divorce, she’d needed to shut down. But what was her excuse now?
She’d enjoyed her work with Ty because he was easy to keep at a safe distance. She’d enjoyed living with absentminded Bree because her friend excelled at being friendly without putting pressure on her to feel more. She’d kept her distance from her family and the complicated emotions being around them stirred up.
She’d been going through the motions. And she never would have suspected that shallow Ty Walker would be the one to make her realize how shallow her own life had become.
She’d underestimated him. In so many ways.
When she returned to the bedroom, he was doing crunches on the floor—and Andi was almost tempted to whip out her phone and film it. He’d probably break Twitter if he posted this. Dear God, the man was sexy. He grinned at her, but didn’t stop moving, his body bunching and coiling and—
Well. She was feeling something now. Lust. Pure, bald lust.
“Speaking of Christmas shopping,” he said, barely winded as he moved through the exercises, “I should get something for your family. And what about a wedding present?”
“I shipped all my presents up here in advance. We can add your name to the cards, if you like.”
“That’s cheating, isn’t it?” He flipped over, moving to push-ups without missing a beat. Andi sat on the bed, incapable of looking away as he continued, “I should have known you’d already have something taken care of. Always thinking ahead.”
“Mm-hmm.” Sweet Christ, his arms. The flex and pull. Drool pooled in her mouth.
“I should get them something. I don’t want to be the cheap celebrity who crashed your family Christmas and didn’t bring anything. What about tablets?”
She blinked, more than a little dazed by what she was seeing. “You want to give my entire family tablets?”
Ty spared her a quick glance and a frown. “Is that not a good gift? I know everyone gets given them for free—”
“Only celebrities get given electronics for free, Ty. They would love them. Though it’s a little much.”
“What’s the point of Christmas if we can’t go off the deep end, right? You should have seen some of the Christmas presents I gave my mother.”
And just like that the man working his gorgeous muscles in front of her took on another unexpected dimension.
&nbs
p; Ty Walker was lonely.
Maybe he hadn’t been telling the world he wanted a wife and babies just to make the ovaries of America lurch for him. Maybe he missed being part of a family. And if he wanted to adopt hers for the holidays and give Jade extravagant gifts because he was happy to have someone to spoil again, she would do whatever he needed to help.
“Alex and Megan would probably rather have a contribution to their honeymoon fund,” she suggested softly.
Ty beamed. “I knew you’d think of something. You’re so good at taking care of people. I’m amazed you’ve never had kids.”
He said it blithely. Casually. As if it was nothing. A choice.
Andi flinched, her throat going dry. She didn’t mean to say anything, but the words tumbled out anyway. “I can’t.”
Ty looked up from the floor where he was now twisting and stretching. One glance at her expression and he froze, something unreadable passing over his face. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s not your fault. Not anyone’s fault.” Though she felt like it was hers. She’d always felt like it was hers.
“I wasn’t thinking—”
“Ty, forget it. It’s fine.”
He shut up then, focusing on his exercises, but it didn’t last. She should have known he wouldn’t let it go so easily. “There are really good fertility doctors—”
“Not everyone has something that can be fixed,” she snapped, her voice harsher than she’d intended.
She’d gone through all of this five years ago when they’d gotten the diagnosis after her second ectopic pregnancy had nearly killed her. There were surgeries they could try, but even if they were completely successful, the odds were still not good. IVF with a surrogate was an option, but the doctors were concerned about certain genetic conditions that might be passed on, chromosomal abnormalities. Her body simply had not been made to reproduce.
She’d come to terms with that. She’d been ready to adopt. Eager to adopt. Then Mark had served her with divorce papers.
