He sensed a mother-daughter quarrel coming up.
“What is this? A competition?” Chase asked, only half joking.
“No.” Mitzy’s lower lip shot out. “It’s me taking charge of my life, and my sons’ lives.” Her eyes shimmered. “It’s me demonstrating to my mother that as much as I love her—and I do love her—that I’ve got this.”
Chase fell silent. Mitzy paused, reading him with her customary skill. “You don’t approve?”
He carried his plate over to the dishwasher, slid it inside. “I know Judith.”
She brought her dishes over, too. “And?”
He focused on the pulse throbbing delicately in her throat. Figuring he owed it to Mitzy to be straight with her, he said, “If you show Judith this list...if you make this holiday into a competition between mother and grandmother...it will be like throwing down a gauntlet.”
With a frown, she touched the clip on the back of her head, took it out and massaged her scalp. “You don’t think I should go there?”
It was a loaded question. One that in the past, Chase would have sidestepped at all costs. But being indirect had cost them, too.
So, like it or not, he had to tell her what was on his mind, and then hear what was on hers. “I think you should keep in mind what is really important here,” he told her gently.
Guilt flashed. “The boys.”
He nodded, feeling abruptly emotional, too. “And that this is their very first Christmas,” he said in a rusty-sounding voice, “and it should be, above all...”
“Harmonious.” She guessed where he was going with this.
“At the very least.”
Mitzy sighed, looking glummer than ever. “Good luck to me achieving that!”
* * *
“Ready to call it quits for the night?” Mitzy asked, several hours later.
Chase looked up from his own laptop computer, surprised that several hours had passed. “Next shift coming in?”
“Ah, no.” Mitzy slid her hands beneath her elbows. She approached him warily. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Releasing a deep breath, she inquired, “Would you mind giving me a hand with the babies next changing and feeding before you leave?”
He had been hoping she would ask. “My pleasure.” He stepped away from the analysis he had been doing. “Did your volunteer bail on you again?”
“No. I knew you were going to be here working on the other stuff, so I didn’t schedule anyone tonight.”
“Planning to draft me?”
Her smile was shy. “Do you mind?”
“I like spending time with all of you.” More than you could ever imagine.
Together, they went into the family room, where the babies were waking up. Mitzy already had the essentials laid out. Chase mugged at the babies. They all paid attention, but to his disappointment, only Joe smiled back. Maybe one day...
Oblivious to the long-term nature of his hopes, Mitzy said, “Let’s change them while they’re still in their bassinets, and then I’ll help you get settled...”
“For?”
“Your first lesson in ‘two babies at a time’ bottle feeding.”
“Whoa.” For the first time he could recall, he wasn’t sure he was up to a challenge.
Mitzy touched his arm gently. “Not to worry, cowboy,” she teased cheerfully. “I’ll talk you through it.”
As soon as the task was complete, Mitzy directed Chase to sit on the sofa. She secured a horseshoe-shaped nursing pillow with two indentations around his middle, then propped up Joe and Zach on his lap, facing him. “If you hold a bottle in each hand, you can feed them simultaneously.”
Mitzy brought Alex and Gabe over, and sitting down right next to him, did the same for herself.
“Well, this is cozy,” Chase said, smiling over at her.
They were so close, their bodies were touching from shoulder to knee.
Mitzy grinned. “Now, if only I could do all four at once...”
A brief, contented silence fell. Mitzy held the bottles at just the right angle. Chase followed her lead. The boys suckled contentedly, occasionally stopping to coo or smile.
Chase understood their happiness.
Mitzy had made a very cozy, loving home for them.
Wishing, for a wild, crazy moment, that he were the daddy instead of just a family friend, Chase looked over at her and observed softly, “You seem happier.” Prettier, too. If that was even possible...
“Yeah,” she sighed ruefully. She admitted, “I was a little grouchy earlier. Talking to you helped.”
He was glad to hear that he had helped. Because he would do anything to make her happy, see her smile, to make up for all those lost years when he hadn’t been there for her. And wished like hell he had been. He wanted her to be able to trust him to make her happy again.
“In any case—” Mitzy’s eyes sparkled contentedly “—our conversation gave me the incentive to come up with a better plan.”
Aware he couldn’t wait to hear it, he paused to burp Joe then Zach. “Which is...?”
Smiling confidently, she did the same with Alex and Gabe. “I’m going to strike a bargain with Mother. The boys and I will go to Dallas for their debut on the fifteenth as requested. But my cooperation with Mother’s agenda has limits. Which is where you come in.”
Chase lifted a brow.
“I was hoping you’d go with me that weekend, since I’m going to need someone to drive with us.” She blushed. “But if it’s too much, or you have other plans,” she amended hastily, “I could always ask your sister, Lulu. Or maybe Rio Vasquez to go with me.”
Talk about a bad idea. Chase pointed out grimly, “Rio’s got a huge unrequited crush on you.”
Her spine stiff with indignation, Mitzy rose. She put the sleepy, sated babies back in their bassinets, one at a time. “How would you know?” she challenged.
Chase stood, too. Because I’ve got eyes, he thought, but said, instead, stepping closer, “Because I’ve got a crush on you.”
She stepped back. Correcting icily, “Did. Past tense.”
Do. But sensing she wasn’t ready to hear that, at least not tonight, he let it go.
“And you’re wrong about that.” Mitzy gathered up the soiled diapers and took them to the pail in the laundry room. “Rio and I are just friends.”
Chase felt a surge of red-hot jealousy. He picked up the empty baby bottles and took them into the adjacent kitchen. “Does Rio know that?”
Mitzy came toward him. “Of course.”
Chase planted his hands on his waist. “You’re telling me Vasquez’s never put the moves on you or asked you out?”
Mitzy walked past him to the sink. “He has asked me out.” She pumped soap into her hands. “Once a long time ago. But—” she scrubbed her palms with energy “—we talked about it and agreed we would be better off friends.”
Figuring it wouldn’t hurt, Chase lathered up his hands, too. “And he’s never tried to hook up with you since?”
“He’s never tried to hook up with me, period, cowboy.” She shook off the water furiously. “Unlike some people here who shall remain nameless.”
Beginning to realize the last thing he ever wanted from Mitzy was to be put in her “friend zone,” he shut off the tap and handed her a dish towel. “If you’re looking for an apology for the kisses we’ve laid on each other recently...”
She scoffed, “Please. I know better than that!” She calmed herself with effort. “But back to the important question.” Suddenly on edge, she paused to look him in the eye. “Are you willing to go with me to Dallas?”
Instinct told him there was something else going on here. “To run interference between you and Judith,” he affirmed.
Caught up short, Mitzy waved an airy hand. “And...discourage...a few people.”
> “People,” Chase repeated. This was like pulling teeth.
Mitzy inhaled. “Mother’s planning to introduce me to a number of wealthy suitors.”
The news hit him like a punch to the gut. He didn’t want her going out with anyone but him. He kept his gaze locked on hers. “You’re not interested?”
She looked at him like that was the dumbest question ever. “These men are all looking to get married, Chase.”
They had nothing on him. “Well, what do you know,” he said, aiming a thumb at the center of his chest, “so am I.”
Refusing to get the hint, Mitzy rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should let my mother fix you up, then.”
“Okay,” he said.
She tensed with obvious jealousy.
Satisfaction roaring through him, he qualified, “As long as it’s with you.”
Her lips formed a round O of surprise. “Chase McCabe.” She planted her hands on her hips. Glared. “What has gotten into you this evening?”
Aware he hadn’t felt this called to task since high school, he shrugged. “The Christmas spirit?”
She looked him up and down, reminding archly, “We’re supposed to be seeking out closure!”
He met and held her gaze. “As long as we’re putting an end to everything bad or sad that ever happened between us, I completely agree. I do want to move on.” His voice caught. “More than you know, darlin’.”
A pulse throbbed in her throat. “And as for the rest of it?” she inquired hopefully.
He caught her hand and squeezed. “I want to hold on to everything good and wonderful we ever shared.”
She sighed wistfully. “Wouldn’t that be a nice Christmas present—for both of us,” she murmured.
Happy to discover he was getting to her as much as she was getting to him, he looked her affectionately up and down. “And speaking of all things Christmas...” He winked and gallantly took her by the elbow.
Her caution returned, as swiftly as it had fled. She dug in her heels. “What are you doing now?”
Smugly, he promised, “You’ll see.” He guided her beneath the sprig of mistletoe hanging just above the entryway between the living room and the foyer.
Mitzy looked up, stunned. Blinked. Once and then again. “How in the world did that get there?”
He wrapped both arms around her and guided her toward him, so they were touching length to length. “I’m helping you decorate.”
Then doing what he had wanted to all evening, he kissed her, softly and persuasively at first, then with growing intensity, until nothing was held in check.
He had counted on her mouth to be as soft and sweet as ever. However, he hadn’t expected her to immediately rise up on tiptoe, thread her hands through his hair and kiss him back passionately, as if this were what she had been waiting for all evening, too.
Chase could feel the surrender of her body in the trembling of her knees, and the tautening of her nipples as they pressed against his chest. And yet there remained a vulnerability and confusion beneath all the mixed signals she had been giving him. A sign that said it would be best to wait until she was a little more sure of her feelings before they jumped back into bed again.
Forcing himself to take the high road, he reluctantly let her go. And just that quickly, her mercurial mood changed again. “I’m sorry.” She dropped her head against his shoulder.
He smoothed a hand down her spine, still savoring the feel of her soft, warm body pressed up against him.
“For what, darlin’?” He inhaled the floral scent of her shampoo and pressed a kiss into the silky mane on the top of her head. “For making out with me?”
Mitzy jerked in an unsteady breath. “That, and for the way I’ve been up and down emotionally all evening.” She paused to look up at him, her pretty gaze more turbulent than ever. “I thought I was moody after the birth, but—” she drew another deep enervating breath “—in the last few weeks...”
Or in other words, since he had come back into her life, Chase thought.
“...I seem to be nothing but raging hormones.”
As was he.
“Hey.” He waggled his brows. “I like your hormones. Especially when they lead to—” he inclined his head, indicating what had just happened “—that.”
Delicate brows knitting together, she pushed away from him. “I’m serious, Chase. We can’t just fall back into a relationship where we left off, as if nothing ever happened to break us up, because we’re both alone at Christmas and it’s convenient.”
Convenient? Was that all it was to her?
Or was she now trying to fool herself, too?
He said nothing.
She went very still. “Are you agreeing with me?” Her nostrils flared. “Or disagreeing?”
“Depends.” He lifted both palms in a casual display of surrender. “What will get me in the least amount of trouble with you right now?”
With a huff of temper and a withering glare, she marched back to the foyer, leaving him no choice but to follow.
Aware it was past time to say good-night, he reached past her to retrieve his coat from the front hall closet. His laptop computer from the study.
She was already at the front door, waiting, her hand on the knob, when he emerged from her late father’s work space. Not sure whether she was more furious with him—or herself—Chase told her quietly, “You can’t script this, Mitzy. Much as you might like to.”
And on that note, he bid her good-night.
Chapter Six
Mitzy was still feeling guilty and upset the next morning, so she apologized to Chase via the simple text message: Sorry I was rude. Friends?
It took him a while, but he finally texted back: Friends.
For both their sakes, they didn’t speak of his incredibly persuasive kisses or her emotional post-make-out outburst again, and the next two days were more of the same.
Chase arrived around eight o’clock in the evening, and spent the next couple hours in the study, working on the financial analysis. When the quadruplets woke around ten o’clock, he stopped and helped. What originally started out as being a pretty methodical changing and feeding operation gradually lengthened, until the boys were staying awake for almost two hours, interacting with each other and gazing adoringly up at her and Chase.
Still, midnight eventually came. The boys drifted off to sleep again, and Chase always gallantly took his leave. But not before managing to steal at least one kiss that practically knocked her socks off.
Friday evening, however, was different.
He looked serious as he went into the study and began packing up his things. “Same time tomorrow evening?” she said lightly, aware how easy it had been to get used to having him around.
Chase powered off his laptop and slid the stack of handwritten notes he’d been making into the briefcase, too. His lips took on a rueful curve. “Actually, I’ve gone about as far as I can with my analysis, with the information I have thus far. You’re going to have to go to the MCS workshop and get the rest in person if you want me to be able to complete the audit and give you a much fuller picture of where things stand financially. And then of course make recommendations on what you might want to do next.”
Mitzy studied him. “But you think the business is in real trouble, don’t you?”
His tall frame radiating barely leashed energy, he settled on the edge of the desk, stretched his long legs out in front of him and braced a hand on either side of him. “From what I’ve been able to glean so far? Yes. It looks like there has been a 20 percent downturn in sales in the last year.”
Which was really bad.
The corners of his sensual lips lifted in a reassuring smile. “But MCS is still in a position to be turned around if you act now. Which is why—” he paused to deliberately hold her eyes “—you have to talk to the employees an
d get a fuller picture of what’s been going on, what the problems are—in their view.”
Mitzy hesitated, wary of ruining anyone’s holidays. Suddenly feeling a little cold, she reached for the cozy cardigan sweater draped over the back of the reading chair and shrugged it on. Or tried to—the ends of her hair got tangled up in the shawl collar. “I’d like to avoid that until after New Year’s.”
Chase stepped up to assist, his warm fingers brushing the back of her neck in the process and causing a flurry of goosebumps.
When he’d finished helping her, he settled his hands on her shoulders and guided her around to face him. “Knowing you’re concerned—that you care—might make your employees’ holidays.”
Mitzy paused as his resolute advice sunk in. “I hadn’t thought about it that way,” she returned softly.
Chase grabbed his briefcase with his right hand and wrapped his left arm about her shoulders. Together, they walked toward the foyer. “I imagine everyone is feeling your father’s absence, and worried about what the future holds. The craftspeople would probably welcome the chance to share their views with you.”
“Okay. I’ll go in Monday morning, first thing. It’ll give me a chance to see how the plans are going for the annual Christmas party, scheduled for the twenty-second. And also find out how to calculate the annual bonuses, which are usually given out then.”
She slowed her pace as they reached the coat closet. “In the meantime, I’ve got to get going on the domestic front.”
His brow lifted.
Mitzy sighed her regret. “My mother was right about one thing. I haven’t done enough to get in the holiday spirit.” She looked around at the lone sprig of mistletoe decorating the front of the house.
There might be a wreath on her front door and garlands still decorating her king-size bed, courtesy of Chase, but... “I haven’t even gotten a tree yet.”
He shrugged into his coat. “Want me to help with that?”
This time it was she helping him with his collar. “You’re not too busy?” she asked, her fingers tingling as she brushed the satiny warm skin of his nape.
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