“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have the whole innocent-sexy thing down and it drives me wild.”
“How would I take that the wrong way?”
“I don’t want you to think I’m after you for the wrong reasons.”
I smiled to myself. “So you think I’m sexy?”
“I may have to jump in a snowbank when I get to my mom’s.”
“You could go with a cold shower.”
“I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work very well with you.”
I laughed as soft as I could. “What are you going to do when we really start dating?”
“I’m going to be very careful with you and treat you like you deserve.”
“I’ll try and tone down my sexiness.” I wasn’t sure how to do that since I never saw myself that way.
“Please don’t.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” I teased.
“Snowbank it is.”
I laughed louder this time. I hoped I didn’t disturb anyone.
“I love your laugh. I’m not waiting until March to see you.”
“If you figure out a way, let me know.”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
I got off the phone feeling like I might need a cool shower myself. Andrew Turner was working his way into my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Our Christmas Eve tradition was to open one gift the morning of. I usually let Drew open something that would keep him entertained. In all the years before, I was the one who chose which gift he would open, but this year, he begged to open something from Andrew. There were plenty from him to choose from, so I relented.
Drew sat in front of the tree and thoughtfully picked up and felt each package from Andrew as he tried to choose which present to open. My parents and I watched him. I had my camera phone ready to go when the big reveal happened. I wanted Andrew to see his reaction.
In between watching Drew, I observed my dad. I couldn’t tell if he was grumpy because Drew was picking a gift from Andrew, or because it was 7:30 in the morning and he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. It may have been some of both. I tried not to let it dampen my spirits. Maybe someday he would come to like Andrew, when he got the chance to know him. Maybe.
Drew narrowed it down to two gifts, the largest package and the smallest one. I was surprised the smallest one was even in the running. At Drew’s age, he still believed the bigger the better. He shook them both and again, to my astonishment, he went with the little one.
“Okay. Are you ready?” I asked him.
He looked at me like he was born ready and smiled. He tore into the present with a vengeance.
I snapped several pictures in a row until I realized what he had uncovered. In my shock, and maybe some annoyance, I dropped my phone.
“A pocketknife. YES! I knew it!”
My parents looked at me with wary gazes and widened eyes.
I smiled at them to be reassuring, but only because I didn’t want them to think less of Andrew than they already did. On the inside, I was cursing him. He should have asked me first. “Dad, maybe you could help Drew?”
My dad jumped into action and sat next to Drew as he admired his weapon—I mean, pocketknife. What was he even going to do with it?
My dad took the knife from him and looked it over. “This is a fine pocketknife. I think I have some wood in the garage. You can practice whittling on that.”
“What’s whittling?” Drew asked. That was a good question, one I wanted an answer to as well.
“You can use your knife to carve shapes into wood.”
“Awesome!” Drew exclaimed.
It was so not awesome, and Andrew was getting a piece of my mind. I texted him the pictures along with the caption, “You should have asked me.”
Within thirty seconds my phone rang. I picked up. “Can you hold on a moment?” I asked Andrew. I looked at my son. “You can go out to the garage with grandpa after you’ve eaten and gotten dressed.”
He didn’t even balk at me. He ran straight to the room he was staying in to get dressed. I was happy to see my dad still held the knife. I didn’t want Drew alone with the thing until we could talk about it. I excused myself from my parents and walked out on the patio. I was still in my pajamas, but my parents lived in a retirement community, so it wasn’t a big deal to see people in their night clothes outside in the morning. I settled in on one of the patio chairs and took a deep breath before I gave Andrew a piece of my mind.
“All right, I’m back. How could you?”
He laughed as he always did. “I’m sorry, I was going to tell you today. I didn’t realize you opened gifts on Christmas Eve.”
“I only let him open one, and it was like it called to him.”
“So he likes it?”
“What do you think?”
“You’re upset.”
“I’m nervous. I don’t know the first thing about pocketknives and I don’t want him to hurt himself.”
“I’ll talk to him and show him how to use it.”
“You’re not here.”
We both sat in silence for a moment as I waited for him to respond. “You’re right,” he finally replied. “Can I call you later?”
“Sure.”
He was off the phone in an instant. I stared blankly at my phone, not sure what had just happened. I walked in to see Drew at the kitchen table, dressed and ready to go.
“Do you want some pancakes and bacon this morning?” I asked him.
“Can I have cereal? I want to use my knife with grandpa.”
My dad walked over from the kitchen, with the paper and his coffee in hand, to join his grandson at the table. “Son,” he called Drew as he always had, “let’s not be too hasty to turn down your mom’s pancakes. The wood will still be out there when we’re done.”
“Fine,” Drew said, resigned.
“Pancakes and bacon it is.” I kissed the top of my dad’s head.
He patted my hand on his shoulder.
“Can I call Andrew to tell him thank you?” Drew asked.
“Of course, but let’s wait until later.” I wasn’t sure why Andrew had to get off the phone in such a hurry.
Drew admired the outside of his pocketknife. “Okay.”
My eyes felt glued to him the whole time I was making breakfast. The small gift had me on edge. I was grateful to my dad, who sat there with my son and told him stories about how his own grandpa would whittle whistles for him when he was a boy.
“Really?” Drew asked. “Could we do that?”
“We can try,” my dad replied.
At least that would keep Drew busy for the day. My only hope was that we didn’t have any accidents or emergency room visits in our near future.
As the day wore on, Andrew still hadn’t called me back. I thought we were going to talk for hours. I had been looking forward to it. I called him around two in the afternoon and all he said was, “I miss you, but I can’t talk right now.”
Okay?
Instead, I made frequent trips out to the back porch where my dad and son were trying to make whistles. Earlier in the day they had gone on a walk to find the right kind of tree, from which they cut off a few limbs they needed to accomplish the task. I tried my best not to wince—or flat out take the knife out of his hand—as I watched my son cut through the bark under the careful supervision of my dad.
Drew was in boy heaven. I didn’t get the attraction of it. When I was his age, I loved playing with nail polish and an Easy-Bake Oven. Never once did I want a knife or a bow and arrow or a gun. Which were all things I worried were in my future, especially with Andrew present. I knew Andrew owned guns and that he was looking forward to taking Drew to the shooting range. I wasn’t sure if there was an anxiety medication available that would make that all right for me, but I knew with Andrew in the picture, I needed to start getting used to the idea.
Speaking of Andrew, all I got from him all day were sporadic short little texts to tell me he was busy.
Busy doing what? Probably campaign stuff. You would think they could take a break for Christmas. Didn’t any of them have families?
My mom and I spent a good portion of the day in the kitchen. We always had prime rib on Christmas Eve and we made homemade cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning. It was a longstanding Whitney family tradition.
My mom was rolling out her prized dough. “Drew is really taken with Andrew.”
“I would say idolizes would be more accurate.”
“You know that’s not a bad thing,” Mom responded.
“I know.”
“Children need fathers as much as they need mothers.”
I thought about my own father. He and my mother played very different but vital roles in my life. “Andrew has been good for Drew. He has empowered him. I just want him to stay my little boy is all.”
“Does he love him?” she asked.
“They love each other. They haven’t said it yet, but Andrew has told me on many occasions how much he loves Drew. And I can see in Drew’s eyes the affection he holds for Andrew.”
“Your father and I will do our best to accept him.”
I smiled over at my mother. “I really appreciate that, but you have a couple of months at least before he makes his appearance into our world.”
“That’s probably good. Your dad could use all the time he can get.”
We both laughed. My dad was a great guy, but set in his ways and a little hot-headed. As his daughter, I could usually talk him into anything, but I wasn’t sure how much power I held when it came to Andrew.
Around dinner time, I received a text from Andrew. I promise I’m not ignoring you or Drew. Just be patient with me. It will be worth it.
Okay, is all I texted back. He was behaving peculiarly. And Drew had hit the peak of excitement. Santa was coming and he could hardly contain himself, or the whistle he had made with my dad. I was going to need Advil by the end of the night.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he repeated over and over as we made sugar cookies for Santa, or grandpa, however you wanted to look at it. “I hope Santa got my letter. You mailed it, right?”
“I put extra stamps on to get it there faster.”
He looked relieved. He grinned and showed off his new front teeth.
The cookies were made with way too many sprinkles, á la Drew, but he was happy, so that’s what mattered. Once Drew was in his pajamas and his teeth were brushed, we set out a plate of the overly decorated cookies and a glass of milk. I snuggled up with my favorite little man on the couch and read to him, ’Twas the Night Before Christmas. Then my dad told him the story of baby Jesus.
Drew was still buzzing by the time we made it to bed. I lay on his bed with him and read Harry Potter until we were both sleepy, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I had stockings to fill and my dad was putting Drew’s new bike together in the garage. Santa had to come through. I lay there a moment longer after Drew dozed off. It was ten, and way past his bed time. I wondered why I hadn’t heard from Andrew. I worried if this was a bad sign. Maybe I had been too optimistic about our relationship.
I had to make myself get up. I was tired, but I wouldn’t disappoint Drew. I got myself ready for bed first. I was happy to be able to wear silk shorts and a cotton tee to bed. I really could get used to the warm weather in the winter. I threw my hair up and washed my face before heading out to check on my dad. He was just about done with Drew’s new yellow and black Mongoose BMX bike.
I stood at the garage door and watched my dad. My mom had long been asleep. “I’m going to fill the stockings.”
“I’m almost done here and then I’ll bring it in and place it near the tree.”
“Thank you, Dad. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
He looked up from tightening the front wheel. “You’re my girl.”
My mom was right. Children needed good fathers. I hoped Andrew didn’t disappoint.
I went about filling the stockings, even my own. I was treating myself to specialty lotions and an expensive perfume, along with sea salt dark chocolate caramels. Santa was good to me this year. I was almost done when my phone vibrated on the coffee table. I snatched it and answered before it woke anyone up.
Andrew didn’t even let me say hello. “I’m here.”
“What do you mean you’re here?”
“I mean I’m in Tucson sitting in your parents’ driveway.”
I sat stunned for a moment. “Is this a joke?”
“Come outside and see.”
I felt girlish and flushed, and maybe a lot like Drew waiting for Santa. I rushed out the front door and met Andrew on the walkway leading up to the concrete porch. I couldn’t believe he was here. He looked exhausted, but pleased with himself. He wasted no time taking me into his arms. I sank into him and he pulled me as close as he could. A feeling of belonging and desire overcame me. My senses took him in, from the way he smelled—woodsy and masculine—to how good his hard body felt against mine. How soft and warm his lips felt against my neck.
“You’re here,” I whispered.
He kissed his way up my neck and face. “I couldn’t go another day without seeing you, or my son,” he spoke against my ear.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”
“I just decided this morning.”
I pulled back and looked into his tired but happy eyes. I ran my hand across his unshaven cheek. I had to say the stubble looked good on him. “You decided on a whim to drive thirteen hours to see us?”
His hands crept up and engulfed my face as he tenderly held my cheeks. His tired eyes were alive and full of yearning. He leaned in closer. I could feel his hot breath against my skin. His lips played above mine, teasing them. “This was no whim.”
His passionate tones released a rush of emotion. I had never wanted anyone more in my life.
“I know we said we would wait for this,” he breathed out, then covered my lips with his.
Our melded lips ignited a flame within me I had never known existed. My hands ran up his chest and through his hair. I felt like I couldn’t get close enough to him. I wanted to be part of him as I tasted him and he explored my mouth with his own. I wasn’t sure how long we stood there taking each other in, but it wasn’t nearly long enough.
It was Andrew who pulled away with a deep breath. “Rachel.” He caught his breath. His twinkling eyes were fixed on my own. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
I tilted my head and tried to steady my breathing. “What does that mean?”
He brushed his hand across my cheek and smiled. “I knew kissing you was going to be amazing, but had I known you could kiss like that, I wouldn’t have waited.”
“Why?”
“Because no one before prepared me for what I just experienced with you.”
I leaned into him. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Merry Christmas, beautiful.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I pulled Andrew into the house. I didn’t want to let go of him. But worry set in when we entered the house. I wasn’t sure how my parents were going to feel about our guest.
Before I went to find my dad, I turned toward Andrew, who was still wearing the same smile from our brief but passionate encounter. “Can I get you anything to drink or eat? You must be exhausted.”
With that same smile, he ran his finger down my cheek. “You’ve seemed to perk me right up, but some water would be great.”
“I still can’t believe you’re here. Drew will be ecstatic. I would wake him up now, but he’ll be up before dawn.”
“I can’t wait to see him, but for tonight, I had hoped his mother would keep me company.”
“I think she can handle that.”
He leaned in for another kiss, but this time he only skimmed my lips. “I missed you,” he whispered against them.
“I missed you, too. More than I thought I would. How long can you stay?”
“Not long. I have to drive back the day after Christmas.�
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I tried to hide my disappointment that we were only going to have one day with him.
He pulled my hand up and kissed it. “Hey, March will be here before we know it. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Why don’t you relax and I’ll get you something to drink.” I pointed to the couch in the living room, the soft light of the Christmas tree twinkling in the darkened room.
“Let me get my bag first. I’ll be right back.” He kissed my cheek before heading back out the front door.
I decided I better go out to the garage and tell my dad. I was surprised he hadn’t already come out. He had to have heard Andrew’s SUV pull into the driveway. I made my way to the door that led to the attached garage. I opened the door to find my dad looking none too happy. He was throwing his tools back in his small metal toolbox. “Dad, is everything okay?”
He looked up, red in the face. “You could have told us he was coming.”
I stepped into the garage. The smooth concrete felt cold on my bare feet. “I didn’t know he was coming. I don’t think he knew until this morning.”
“I want you to be careful with him. He’s much more experienced than you.”
“Dad, he’s been nothing but respectful toward me.”
“Is that what you call what you were doing in the front yard?”
It was my turn to change to a nice red tone in my face. Nothing like being caught making out, but I was thirty years old. I could kiss whomever I wanted.
“How’s Drew going to feel about that?”
“We aren’t telling Drew until he knows who Andrew really is.”
“I don’t like all this sneaking around business.”
“Do you think I do? I’m trying to protect our family, and most importantly, my son. I’m sorry you don’t like Andrew, but if you give him a chance, I think you’ll find you have a lot in common—most of all, your love for Drew.”
My dad looked at me with a coldness I had rarely seen on him. “What happens when he abandons you like he did Sydney?”
I closed the distance between my dad and myself. I hugged him, even if he was stiff and barely reciprocated. “I’m not Sydney, and if he left today, it would hurt, but I can stand on my own.”
Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3) Page 21
