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Christmas in Cancun

Page 4

by KaLyn Cooper


  Jillian went into mother mode and carefully laid Addi on the changing table to strip off her traveling clothes. She’d specifically chosen that sweet purple dress so it would be the first thing her grandmother saw her wearing. That hadn’t worked out like she’d planned since her mother-in-law didn’t meet them at the airport. True, they’d arrived considerably later than expected, but she had anticipated that first meeting for two years.

  Jillian scolded herself for looking to place blame or searching for hidden meaning. Disappointed but resolved, she’d pick out something else for Addi to wear in the morning.

  After changing the baby’s very wet diaper, Jillian wrangled her into the precious pink sleeper. She was laying her in the crib when she heard the door open.

  “I’ll bring in the boxes tomorrow morning,” Jack informed her in a low voice.

  “That would be nice.” She glanced down at the pile of suitcases he’d carried in one trip. “I think I have everything I need for now.” She looked up at him and gave him what she hoped was a thankful smile.

  In the minimal night-lighting from the courtyard, the hard planes of his face were more prominent and ominous. She couldn’t see his eyes but felt them. The intensity of his nearness was magnetic, and on some molecular level she was drawn to him. She’d ever felt this way with only one other man, Jimmy.

  “Breakfast…” Jack started to speak just as Addi rolled over, making the plastic-covered mattress groan. He clutched her elbow and drew her out into the night. His touch was light but forceful. Heat radiated through her from the slight connection of their skin. She stared at his face, unable to look where he was leading her.

  “As I started to say, you can have breakfast whenever you get up.” Jack stopped and stared back at her, and then his brows lowered. “Are you hungry now? Did you get supper?”

  It took Jillian a minute to catch up with the conversation because the warmth of his hand was sending waves of unfamiliar heat through her body. “Uh, yes.” She shook her head. “I mean no. I’m not hungry, and yes, we ate supper at the St. Louis airport while waiting for maintenance to fix whatever was wrong with our plane.”

  “Good.” He paused, then snapped his hand away from her elbow. He quickly glanced around as if he’d done something wrong, or maybe he was just checking the area to see if anyone was watching them.

  Jack cleared his throat before he started again. “You can have breakfast whenever you get up. Feel free to sleep in.” His gaze swept the left wing of the house and traveled to the pool house. “Most of the family will sleep late.”

  Jillian giggled lightly. “Addi doesn’t know how to sleep in. Late for her is six o’clock. I’ll keep her playing quietly in our room.”

  “I’m up at five thirty every day to work out. I’m very quiet, though.”

  “Where is the kitchen? Addi will need milk when she wakes up. I brought cereal for her. If she doesn’t eat right away, she turns into a crying disaster.”

  “I wouldn’t go there if I was you, but the kitchen is on the next level up. If you want something, just dial 3 on the phone beside your bed.”

  Jillian wondered why a big man like him was afraid to go to the kitchen. Maybe they’d put him to work washing dishes or something. That made her smile.

  “You think it’s funny, but Mateo gets pissed when people invade his space, and he claims the entire kitchen as his domain.”

  “I just need a little milk, and I can get it myself, especially at that hour of the morning. I don’t need anyone to wait on me.” She began to wonder if this place wasn’t some kind of fancy resort rather than the Girard family vacation home.

  “You’ve been warned.” Jack’s eyes swept the area again. He seemed very wary. Maybe he didn’t want to be seen with her. She was the outsider here, and she had to remember that fact. Addi was family, but she was nothing to these people.

  “I’ll say goodnight now.” Should she hold out her hand to shake? This intimate meeting in the middle of the night felt almost like a first date rather than a meeting of family, but what did she really know about family? Her mother would have welcomed her with open arms, even though she’d been tired from working hard all day. Jillian would have held her tight and known she was loved right back. The backs of Jillian’s eyes burned. She forced in a breath and decided against touching Jack again, even if it were only a handshake.

  She turned and walked back into her bedroom.

  Chapter Four

  Jack needed a fucking drink.

  But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the slight swing in Jillian’s hips in counterpoint to the sway of her cascading hair, more blonde in the moonlight than red, and the way her jeans molded to her perfect ass. The mental picture of his hands holding her rounded hips as he drove into her from behind made his cock stiffen.

  Hell, she’s my brother’s widow. What kind of pervert am I?

  He’d been able to control it until he touched her. Just that slight contact with her elbow had sent a silent message through his body, and all the blood left his brain and shot south.

  Jack shook his head, hoping to erase the detailed cerebral canvas he’d painted of burying himself deep with her. What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d never reacted to a woman like this before.

  He beelined for the poolside bar and poured two fingers of scotch into a low crystal glass, then threw his head back and downed it. The slow burn of the alcohol felt good, but it was nothing compared to the heat she sent through him. He stared at the glass in his hand resting on the bar. It shook with his attempt to contain his reaction to Jillian.

  He had to get this under control. Now. Jack poured another two fingers and prayed everyone would show up for work tomorrow because he might just get shit-faced tonight.

  Taking the bottle of twelve-year-old scotch with him, he sauntered over to his favorite lounge. His body was imprinted in the thick mattress from the many nights he’d chosen to sleep under the warm night sky rather than in his bed thirty feet away.

  He was staring up at the constellations, enjoying the buzz from the smooth whisky when he heard his new Porsche 918 roar down the curvy driveway. The garage door motored closed a few seconds before his brother entered the courtyard.

  Levi’s glance at Jack was his only acknowledgement to his presence as the oldest Girard sibling strode to the bar looking every inch the CEO he was, khakis with a crease and still crisp button-down shirt aside. His whole demeanor screamed power and money. Jack was glad all those genes seemed to have been spent on his older brother and sister so by the time he’d come along they were gone. A cubical office in Chicago was the last place in the world he wanted to work. Maybe not the last place. He never wanted to return to some of the hellholes the Navy had sent him to either.

  “Where’s the Macallan?” Levi called from behind the bar, glass in hand.

  Jack held up the bottle.

  His brother joined him, pulling up a deck chair, the cocktail table separating him from Jack’s summertime bed.

  “She here?” Levi asked and poured himself a drink.

  “Yeah.” Jack sipped the dark amber liquid. “They are here.”

  “Did Mom go crazy over the baby?”

  “Nope. She hasn’t even seen them yet.”

  Levi sat up and looked at his brother. “What the hell?”

  “Plane was late. Snow. Mother was drunk by the time they finally landed, so she asked me to go get them.” Succinct. To the point with no frills, just the way his brother liked it. Same way Jack wanted information.

  “You know Mom uses vacations down here to relax.” Levi was making excuses for her again. He had years of practice. His mother was balls to the wall in their corporate offices on the fifty-first floor of Girard Tower, but when she hit Mexico, she was a wreck. Since Jack hadn’t been to the high-rise in years, he saw his mother in only the inebriated phase. Thank God she didn’t show up very often. Two to three times a year was more than enough for Jack to handle.

  “I hope she stays sober e
nough to be cordial to Jillian.” Jack sipped again and concentrated on the erection that wanted to grow at the thought of her asleep, in a bed, mere feet away. He wondered what she wore to bed. He often slept naked, but with the house filled with family and children, he’d live twenty-four-seven in swim trunks. Was she asleep naked? Levi’s voice interrupted that line of thinking.

  “She will. Mom is an excellent hostess and will ensure Jillian enjoys her time in Mexico. Besides, I think Jillian has some work to do while she’s here. I heard she’s going to several of the ruins and meeting with some people from one of the Mexican universities. That leaves Mom time to spend with the baby, and you know she’ll spoil her only granddaughter rotten.”

  “Uh huh.” Jack’s response was more of a grunt than a word.

  “So what do you think of her? We didn’t really talk much at the…the service.”

  Jack noticed that Levi had a hard time talking about it too, completely skipping the word funeral.

  “Mom wanted to leave as soon as possible.” As if Levi just realized why Jack hadn’t been there, he added, “It wasn’t a big service. You didn’t miss much.”

  “Just the whole fucking thing.” The last swallow of scotch burned all the way down, like his resentment for missing his brother’s funeral. As a SEAL, he’d had the misfortune of accompanying two of his buddies to a hole in the ground where their bodies still lay. But Jimmy was his brother. His best friend in childhood. His cohort in crime. He should have been there instead of in a cave in Fucked-again-istan. It had been nearly a month later when his team had reached an outer base and the commander had met him with the news. It was too late to even come home. No reason. His body wasn’t there anyway.

  On that thought, Jack asked, “Where’s Jimmy’s remains?”

  Levi looked down at his polished loafers, which he wore without socks, and finally admitted, “Hell if I know. Mom wanted him buried in the family plot in Chicago.” He almost spat out the next few words. “But she had already cremated him. If you really want to know, ask the gold-digging bitch.” He threw back the last of his drink and rose. “I’m going to bed.”

  Jack felt the need to lighten the air. It almost seemed as if he needed to defend Jillian. “Thought you’d already been there.”

  The man-to-man knowing grin Levi gave Jack said it all. “I need to get some sleep this time.”

  “Showing your age, old man. Can’t keep up with the young women anymore.” Jack loved rubbing in the fact that his brother was six years older.

  “Nah, once was enough with her.”

  “I can introduce you to some women who will keep you occupied all night,” Jack offered. “And once will just get you started.”

  “I may take you up on that later in the week. Mom and I have a conference call at ten thirty with the senior staff. See you in the morning, little brother.” Levi disappeared into his room on that last jab.

  Jack set the empty glass on the table, reached into the drawer attached to the underside of the sturdy wooden frame, and withdrew a clean sheet. The temperature was very comfortable this time of year, but he preferred a light sheet when he slept under the moon and stars.

  When Jack awoke, the sun’s yellow rays had chased away the darkness of night. He knew it was just before six without needing to look at his watch. His inner alarm clock would never let him sleep later. Summers of living in the Caribbean with his grandfather had taught him a pink-less morning sky meant it would be another cloudless day. Business would be good.

  Little whimpers came from Jillian’s room. He heard sheets rustle, and then a tiny voice cried out, “Momma.” Jack listened carefully for Jillian to arise and take care of the baby. He felt bad that he’d kept her up late. She’d told him it was hours past her bedtime by the time they’d said good night.

  The second whimper tore at his heart, so Jack quietly entered the open doors and walked to the crib. To his surprise, Addi lit up and held out her hands. Damn, she was a cute little thing.

  He glanced at Jillian, sound asleep, wrapped in green sheets that coordinated with the comforter that lay heaped on the floor next to the bed. Well, he now knew she slept in a camisole top, braless. What would it be like to taste those little pink buds? Suck her rounded breasts deep into his mouth and…

  Addi called out in a voice louder. He’d let Jillian sleep. She obviously needed it.

  “Up. Up.”

  “Okay, little princess.” She wrapped her small arms around his neck as soon as he lifted her from the crib. Damn, those tiny soft arms felt nice. But he’d loved it when his two nephews had done the same thing when they were her age.

  Familiar with caring for the smallest family members, Jack carefully laid her on the changing table and stripped her out of the nightclothes. Thankful she was only wet, he had her in a fresh diaper within a minute.

  “You are such a beauty.” Jack nuzzled her neck and inhaled that baby smell. He was rewarded with a small giggle and a squiggle. He dared a glance to the bed, but they hadn’t awakened her mother. Dodged that bullet.

  Looking around the area, he found a frilly dress that his mother had evidently put there. But she had to eat, and he knew all too well that babies were messy. He grabbed the pink onesie and struggled to put the squirmy girl’s arms through the tiny holes.

  “You are going to break hearts all over the world someday, just like your Uncle Jack.”

  Jillian could put her in whatever she wanted later. He was well aware that women had particular ideas about how their children should be dressed. More than once his sister had bitched him out for putting mismatched clothes on his nephews. She often dressed them in a miniature version of Levi, right down to jackets and ties for church. Jack had hated those clothes as a child and put her kids in bathing suits and T-shirts he’d bought them in town. Sometimes he did it just to get a rise out of her.

  “There we go.” After snapping the bottom, he picked her up and gave the king bed one last scan before situating the small child into the crook of his arm and leaving as silently as he’d entered.

  “Are you hungry?” Soft curls bounced around her pretty face as she nodded. Her puffy cheeks glowed soft peach, and red lips made a perfect bow. He wondered if her mother looked as radiant in the morning, or in the afterglow of sex. Could he put that same trusting stare in Jillian’s green eyes?

  Addison watched him with bright blue-green eyes, the same color as his own. She didn’t cry or pull away. She seemed content in his arms. “I’m starving. But I doubt Mateo is even up. How about we raid the kitchen for some milk and something to eat?” That brought a small-toothed smile.

  “Pease. Bekpas.” It had been years since he'd had to understand toddlerese, but he was pretty sure she was in agreement with his plan.

  “Can you say Uncle Jack?” As he made his way through the large house toward the kitchen on the main floor, he tried to teach her his name. Unka Dack was as close as she was going to get.

  He swung the door open to the commercial-grade kitchen, and Mateo immediately started yelling at him. “You just call me and I make you breakfast. You no need to come here.” The cook whipped around from the cutting board filled with fresh vegetables, knife in hand, and froze like a statue. He looked at the baby then at Jack. Then back to the baby. “You knock up some American beauty queen and she show up here with your kid?”

  “No, this is…is Jimmy’s daughter, Addison.” Damn, he wished he didn’t stumble over Jimmy’s name, but every time he said it, a pain speared him in the chest. He’d never gotten closure, so his death remained an open wound.

  Jack watched Mateo’s eyes sparkle in the bright overhead lights. He’d worked for the family all Jack’s life and even before. When he and Jimmy were young, they’d sneak into the kitchen and the old cook would feed them milk and homemade cookies at the long stainless steel counters. Their mother insisted on healthy snacks of fruits and vegetables, but she never dared enter Mateo’s domain, so the boys were safe under his protection.

  “Miss h
im.” Mateo looked away and inhaled a ragged breath. When his gaze returned to Jack and Addi, he had forced a smile and deftly slid the giant cleaver to the cutting block.

  “So our little princess is hungry?” He held out an oversized hand for being a relatively short five-foot-nine inches. “I am Mateo. Can you say Mateo?”

  Her smile lit up the sunny kitchen. With pride she said, “My ’tao.”

  “Close enough. I’ll be happy to be your ’tao.” He tweaked her rounded cheeks, and she shrank into Jack’s shoulder, but she never lost her smile.

  “Can Mateo take you while Jack runs to the dining room to get the highchair?” He held out his arms, but Addi pulled in her shoulders and tried to bury herself in Jack’s chest. “Okay then, I get the throne for your highness.” He disappeared through the door at the far end into the formal dining room.

  Returning with the highchair Jack’s nephews had used for years, Mateo asked, “Now, what does our princess like to eat?” He ran through a lengthy list as he pulled food from everywhere and held it up for her approval. Once she’d settled with a bowl of fresh-cut local fruit and crackers, Jack leaned back on a counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Mateo finally looked at him. “The mother. She is a good woman, no? Tell me about her, and I’ll make you an omelet, just the kind you like.”

  Jack couldn’t resist that offer. “She’s very protective of Addi.” He looked down at her and couldn’t withhold his smile as she stuffed a whole strawberry in her tiny mouth. Juice dripped out onto the onesie. A good choice, he congratulated himself. She was already a sticky mess, but happy.

  “Is that smile for the baby or the mother?”

  Jack flinched. Could the old cook still read him that well? More than once he’d known the mischief Jack and Jimmy had gotten into hours before their parents or grandfather had discovered it. He’d even given the boys a rusty serving spoon to bury a dead bird Jimmy had found during their wandering adventures. Their mother would have had conniptions if she’d known they had touched the carcass, say nothing about bringing it into the house.

 

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