“Yes, of course it’s a yes,” Joy managed to say when she threw her arms around him and held on. “She already considers you her father. So do I.”
Sam held Joy tight, buried his face in the curve of her neck and said, “I love you. Both of you. So much. I won’t ever let you go, Joy. I want you to marry me. Give me Holly. And give us both more children. Help me make a family so strong nothing can ever tear it down.”
“You filled my heart, Sam.” She pulled back, looked up at him and said, “All of this. What you’ve done. It’s the most amazing moment of my life. My personal crabby hermit has become my hero.”
His mouth quirked at the corner. “Still not done,” he said and drew her to the other side of the tree.
“You’ve already given me everything, Sam. What’s left?” She was laughing and crying and the combined sounds were like music to him.
The big house felt full of love and promise, and Sam knew that it would never be empty again. There would be so much light and love in the house, shadows would be banished. He had his memories of lost love, and those would never fade, but he wouldn’t be ruled by them anymore, either.
When Kaye finally came home from her annual vacation, she was going to find a changed man and a household that was filled with the kind of happiness Sam had thought he’d never find again.
“What is it, Sam?” Joy asked when he pulled her to a stop in front of a draped easel.
“A promise,” he said and pulled the sheet from the painting he’d only just finished the night before, to show her what he dreamed. What he wanted. For both of them.
“Oh, Sam.” Her heart was in her voice. He heard it and smiled.
* * *
Joy stared at the painting, unable to tear her eyes from it. He’d painted this room, with the giant, lit-up tree, with stacks of presents at its feet, and the hint of fairy lights from the tiny houses in the woods shining through the glass behind it.
On the floor, he’d painted Holly, the puppy climbing all over her as the little girl laughed. He’d painted him and Joy, arms around each other, watching the magic unfold together. And he’d painted Joy pregnant.
There was love and celebration in every stroke of paint. The light was warm and soft and seemed to make the painting glow with everything she was feeling. She took it all in and felt the wonder of it all settle in the center of her heart. He’d painted her a promise.
“I did it all yesterday,” he said, snaking both arms around her middle as they stared at his creation. “I’ve never had a painting come so quickly. And I know it’s because this is what’s meant to be. You, me, Holly.”
“I love it,” Joy said softly, turning her face up just enough to meet his kiss. “But we don’t know if I’m pregnant.”
“If you’re not now,” he promised, both eyebrows lifting into high arches, “you will be soon. I want lots of kids with you, Joy. I want to live again—risks and all—and I can only do that if you love me.”
She turned around in his arms, glanced at her daughter, still giggling with puppy delight, then smiled up at Sam. “I love you so much, Sam. I always will. I want to make that family with you. Have lots of kids. Watch Holly and the others we’ll make together grow up with a father who loves them.”
“We can do that. Hell,” he said, “we can do anything together.”
She took a long, deep breath and grinned up at him. “And if you ask me to marry you right this minute, this will be the best Christmas ever.”
He dipped into his pocket, pulled out a sapphire and diamond ring and slid it onto her finger while she watched, stunned. Though she’d been hoping for a real proposal, she hadn’t expected a ring. Especially one this beautiful.
“It wasn’t just a puppy I got in Boston,” he said. “Though I will admit my sister helped me pick out this ring.”
“Your family knows?”
“Absolutely,” he said, bending to kiss her, then kiss the ring on her finger as if sealing it onto her hand. “My mother’s thrilled to have a granddaughter and can’t wait to meet you both in person. And be prepared, they’ll all be descending after the holidays to do just that.”
“It’ll be fun,” she said. “Oh, Sam, I love you.”
“That’s the only present I’m ever going to need,” Sam said and kissed her hard and long and deep.
She’d come here this morning believing she would have to fight with Sam to make him admit how much he loved her. The fact that he had been on his way to get her and Holly filled her heart. He wanted her. He loved them both. And he was willing to finally leave the past behind and build a future with her. It really was the best Christmas she’d ever known.
“Hey!” Holly tugged at both of them as the puppy jumped at her feet. “You’re kissing! Like mommies and daddies do!”
Joy looked at her little girl as Sam lifted her up to eye level. “Would you like that, baby girl? Would you like Sam to be your daddy and for all of us to live here forever?”
“For really?”
“For really,” Sam said. “I’d like to be your daddy, Holly. And this summer, you and I are going to build you a fairy tree house. How does that sound?”
She gave him a wide, happy grin. “You’ll be good at it, Sam. I can tell and I love you lots.”
“I love you back, Holly. Always will.” He kissed her forehead.
“Can I call you Daddy now?”
“I’d really like that,” he said and Joy saw the raw emotion glittering in his eyes.
Their little girl clapped and grinned hugely before throwing her arms around both their necks. “This is the bestest Christmas ever. I got just what I wanted. A puppy. A fairy house. And my own daddy.”
Sam looked into Joy’s eyes and she felt his love, his pleasure in the moment, and she knew that none of them would ever be lonely again.
“Merry Christmas, Sam.”
“Merry Christmas, Joy.”
And in the lights of the tree, he sealed their new life with a kiss that had Holly applauding and sent the new puppy barking.
Everything, Joy thought, was perfect.
* * * * *
Read on for an extract from THE PREGNANCY PROJECT by Kat Cantrell.
The Pregnancy Project
by Kat Cantrell
One
In one of life’s great ironies, Dr. Dante Gates, PhD, had a chemistry problem he couldn’t solve.
Not one single data point from his doctoral thesis had provided clues to this puzzle. Nothing he’d researched in the name of his hit TV show, The Science of Seduction, had revealed even a hint of an answer. Even the work he’d done on proving the effectiveness of quantum chemical models for protein analysis—which had nearly landed him a Nobel Prize—hadn’t helped. And Dante was beyond frustrated by the lack of progress in unraveling this chemistry problem named Dr. Harper Livingston.
Dante and Harper had been friends for a decade. She was the standard by which he judged all other women. Which meant Dante spent a lot of energy being irritated that he could never find a woman as beautiful or as smart as Harper. She did it for him, in all the right ways.
Or wrong ways, more like. Because they were friends. His relationship with Harper was the one constant in his life, the only thing he could count on. They had a sacred bond he valued, one he refused to disrupt.
Dante had pretty much convinced himself the only reason he had such a thing for Harper lay solely in her unavailability. Surely if they tried taking their relationship to the next level, it would be a dismal failure. Once he had a taste of that forbidden fruit, Harper would instantly lose her attractiveness. He’d never think of her that way again.
The problem was that once he’d started imagining just how delicious that fruit would be, he couldn’t stop.
This morning, Harper had called to say she was
at the Dallas airport, about to get on a plane and would be at his doorstep in two hours. She hadn’t come to visit him in Los Angeles in the three years since he’d moved here. Something big was up. Seemed like the opportune time to solve his chemistry problem, one way or the other.
LAX was one screaming baby short of hell. Like always. Only Harper could drag him to the airport when he had no plans to fly. Dante checked his Breva watch, which featured an anemometer that he’d geeked out over even though he didn’t sail. Harper’s plane had landed ten minutes ago but no passengers had disembarked yet.
Finally, a stream of people carrying backpacks, pillows and water bottles burst through the gate. Dante leaned against the nearest post, arms crossed, to wait for the woman he’d come to collect.
Harper wasn’t hard to spot. Her flame-red hair stood out from the crowd, and she carried herself differently from everyone else, barreling ahead with no fear. In Harper’s world, hesitation was for losers. It was his favorite of her qualities.
She caught sight of him and instantly lit up with a whole-face smile that whacked him in the gut with unexpected heat. Before he could process that, she dropped her bags and flung herself into his arms. Automatically, he balanced his weight to take on hers, snuggling her deep in his embrace, because holy God she felt good.
“Hey,” he murmured into her hair, breathing it in.
Harper’s perfume wound through his senses, infusing his blood with her essence. Which was not how perfume worked. At best, the scent should remind him of food and thus something his body needed to survive. It was supposed to smell nice, not make him want to kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.
He ignored the heat. It wasn’t easy, but he did have a lot of practice.
Harper—mercifully—pulled back enough that Dante didn’t have to worry about her noticing the inappropriate stuff going on down below.
“What are you doing here?” she exclaimed as she drank him in with her bright gaze. “No one has picked me up at the gate since 9/11. I forgot how nice it is. How did you get past security without a plane ticket?”
He chuckled. “Simple. I bought one. Surprise.”
Dante traveled so often for his job as a TV show host that he could always change the ticket later when he planned to actually use it. Or if not, so what? Harper was worth blowing a few hundred bucks over.
She socked him on the arm. “You didn’t have to do that. But I love that you did. I thought you were filming today. I was totally expecting to take a cab.”
And if she’d been anyone else, he’d have sent a car. Shrugging, he picked up her carry-on bag and shouldered it. “We finished early and now I’m off for two weeks, which I plan to spend with you. Perfect timing for an impromptu visit.”
Perfect timing to figure out how to kill his attraction to her. Surely it would only take a kiss. One simple kiss, it would be weird and he’d be done. Back to being friends.
“Your girlfriend won’t expect to spend time with you? The supermodel. What’s her name?” Harper snapped her fingers a couple of times as if to jog her memory.
“Selena,” he supplied. “Actually, we’re not really an item anymore.”
He’d lost interest in Selena as soon as he’d started seeing her, what, like six months ago? But it was good for his career to be photographed with her, and the sex wasn’t terrible, so he’d held on much longer than he should have. She was a sweet girl in a long line of sweet girls who developed instant Vacant Eye when Dante dared throw X-ray crystallography or self-synthesizing materials into conversation. Harper was the only woman he’d ever been able to talk to about anything and everything.
“That’s too bad. I’m sorry. But I’m sure it’s for the best since there’s no way she was good enough for you.” Harper grinned. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Cass is pregnant.”
“That’s fantastic,” he said and meant it. Babies were great. For other people.
Harper and Cass had been friends a long time, since college, when they’d devised a plan to open a company together, along with two other friends, Alex and Trinity. Fyra Cosmetics had thus been born and Harper had made a place for herself as the chief science officer. He was so proud of what she’d accomplished since getting her doctorate in analytical chemistry. Dante had known all four ladies for a decade, but as he had the most in common with Harper he’d naturally become closest to the redhead.
“Gage is making a big deal out of it.” Harper sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “As husbands go, he’s perfect for Cass. But I would shoot him if he treated me the way he does her. ‘You’re working too much,’ he says. ‘Let me take care of you.’ And my favorite, ‘You might be craving potato chips, but you need to crave vegetables.’ Men. Like they know anything about pregnancy.”
Dante couldn’t imagine a woman as fierce as Cass letting Gage railroad her. “His heart is in the right place. How is Alex doing, speaking of pregnancy?”
“Much better now that she’s further into her second trimester. No more morning sickness.”
He hadn’t realized so much of what was happening with Harper’s friends revolved around babies. The whole subject made him vaguely uncomfortable, no doubt because of his own history. Sure, people started out wanting kids, but no one could know that they’d still want one next year, or the year after that. After being shuttled from home to home as a foster kid, Dante knew that fickleness firsthand.
Dante guided Harper toward baggage claim. She laced her fingers with his and held his hand as they walked, chatting about her friends and business partners.
It was companionable. Or at least that was probably how she viewed it.
Dante had a burning awareness of her that was only heightened by the glow radiating from Harper’s face. That glow was new. Where had that come from? He adjusted his trademark horn-rimmed glasses with his other hand, but the corona didn’t fade. Why the hell was she so much more beautiful today, of all days?
He might have to get to that kiss sooner rather than later, or this whole trip would slide into disaster.
“Did you have a good flight?” he asked.
Harper pushed her soft, red curls behind her shoulders and nodded. “Not bad. But the vending machine by my gate at DFW didn’t have any Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and that’s the only thing I want. I’m starving.”
“Come on.” He pulled her into a newsstand shop and scouted until he found the candy in question, picked up the entire box from the shelf and handed it to the clerk along with his American Express.
“Dante!” Harper laughed. “I just wanted one, not twenty. You’ll have me looking like a blimp if you keep that up.”
The cashier did a double take as she zeroed in on Dante’s face, then she glanced at the credit card, her eyes rounding. “Dr. Gates! I’m a huge fan of your show. Please, can I get a picture with you?”
She held out her phone, because of course the answer was yes. Fans were part of the gig, and as the producers of The Science of Seduction funneled millions of dollars into Dante’s bank account to host it, he couldn’t really complain. But secretly, he hated nearly everything about the show.
Money was nice, he could not deny it, but he missed real science. The kind that made a difference in the way people understood the known universe. Helping a guy hook up didn’t amount to a whole lot in the grand scheme of things, no matter how good Dante was at his job. Science had long been his refuge when the rest of the world didn’t care, yet he’d abandoned his roots for sensationalism.
He let the cashier fawn over him as much as she wanted because fans had made him a celebrity, and he did not take that for granted. Harper watched with no small amount of amusement.
Finally, he extracted himself from the cashier and the newsstand, handing Harper the bag of candy. “Sorry about that. Comes with the territory.”
With a snort, Harper grinned. “Are you k
idding? That was awesome. I rarely get a chance to see you being Dr. Sexy. Due compensation for losing your attention.”
He matched her grin. “I have to live up to my tag line.”
Dr. Dante Gates Brings Sexy To Science. That line had graced magazine covers, promo for his show, you name it. Never in a million years would Dante have assumed that agreeing to host a show about how to use science to attract a lover would mean he’d become the poster boy. Of course, he had positioned himself as an expert in the subject. He should have realized women would come out of the woodwork to beg him to test his theories on them.
The attention flattered him. At first. He was only human. The field research alone made the women worth his time, and he’d long ago acknowledged that being abandoned by his birth mom to foster care had created a craving for acceptance and connection. It wasn’t a crime. The real travesty was that not one of the truly inventive and quite beautiful women had eclipsed his attraction to Harper.
Because she was the only one he couldn’t have. Probably.
Harper rolled her eyes as they arrived at the baggage claim area for her flight. “You don’t need to appear shirtless in a dish soap commercial to be sexy, silly. Your brain is the most attractive thing about you.”
Something about her smile caught him sideways and he nearly did a double take. He’d let her reference to Dr. Sexy roll off because...well, that was part of his TV persona. But now this. Was she flirting with him?
Interesting. Had these nuances been there before and had he missed them in his struggle to keep his thoughts about Harper in the friend zone?
After all, she’d just admitted she found him attractive, which he liked far more than he should. What if she’d been shooting him subtle signals this whole time, hoping he’d make a move? She probably thought he was blind. This impromptu trip to LA might have been solely designed to correct his vision.
With that in mind, he guided her to a secluded spot in the very back of baggage claim, between two dark, locked offices. The milling people around them were focused on the stationary carousel, which meant he had Harper all to himself for a few minutes. At least until luggage started arriving.
Maid Under the Mistletoe Page 16
