Mistletoe Daddy

by Deb Kastner

  It was only now, as he related the story to Vivian, that he comprehended how little it mattered to him. Over the past year of forced solitude, he’d realized he was okay being alone, with just himself for company. Perhaps he was a perennial bachelor after all and not, as he’d always believed himself to be, a man who would eventually settle down with a wife and family.

  Maybe he’d never had that in him at all.

  “So let me get this straight,” Viv said, interrupting his thoughts. “You wanted Ashley and Brooke—who are friends of Brittany’s, if I’m remembering right—to notice we’re together so they would get the mistaken impression that you’re dating me? That you’ve moved on?”

  Her eyes widened and she sniffed in astonishment. “That was what the whole point of dinner at Cup O’ Jo’s was about, wasn’t it? To let the town know you’ve moved on—with me. I feel like I’ve suddenly been caught up in a high school drama. Grow up, Nick.”

  Her words hit him like a brick to the chest.

  Maybe it was because she was speaking the truth.

  “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  His first instinct was to defend himself and his actions, but instead he put all of his effort into tamping down the flare of his ego. He blew out a breath, took off his hat and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I know it looks and sounds bad, and I get that you’re angry with me, but this was never about giving anyone the mistaken impression that we’re a couple.”

  “No? Then what?” Her voice and expression softened. He couldn’t blame her for jumping to a negative conclusion, like she had with the cattle in her shop, but this time—just like last time—she seemed willing to hear him out when he tried to explain.

  “I’m trying to prove to the town—and to myself—that I’m not a total muck-up. That’s what Brittany said—that no one should ever rely on me because I’d always let them down. I thought maybe if I could help you get your shop fixed up, it would show that I really can be relied on. That you were right to trust me to do the remodeling job for you. I hoped maybe you could even be my friend. But I’ve kind of blown it now, haven’t I?”

  “Yes, you have,” Vivian replied with a grave frown. Then her nose started twitching and a moment later she was giggling. “Oh, Nick, you take yourself—and life in general—way too seriously. You need to loosen up.”

  He lowered his brow and replaced his cowboy hat. Was she making fun of him?

  “I’m a typical firstborn,” he snapped back. “What do you expect?”

  “I know what you expect out of yourself. Perfection. Which none of us can really aspire to, can we? All I’m saying is you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself all the time.”

  He raised his brow, questioning her statement. She was one to talk. He’d heard her speak negatively of herself more times than he could count.

  She shook her head. They weren’t going to talk about her. They never did.

  “You know Serendipity,” she continued, not allowing him to redirect their conversation. “Yes, folks love to gossip. And your breakup with Brittany probably was big news—until about January 2nd, when some new item of interest popped up to gain the gossips’ attention. After that you and Brittany were yesterday’s news and everyone moved on from there to new ground. You’re probably the only one who remembers it.”

  “Do you think?” The relief flooding through him was palpable, sluicing over his muscles and loosening his joints and marrow until his whole body felt lighter, almost as if he were floating. He hadn’t realized what a heavy weight he’d been carrying. And Vivian, with her sweet, kind words, had set him free.

  “Oh, I’m sure of it. And if I’m not mistaken, Brittany has put it in the past, as well. I heard just the other day that she’s engaged to Gregory Carr. Apparently it didn’t take her too long to get over you, so I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it.”

  Vivian was right. It was almost as if poor old Gregory had been waiting in the wings to snap up Brittany as soon as she was available. And clearly Brittany hadn’t minded.

  “You’re right,” Nick agreed, amazement lining his voice. He didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before, but lately he seemed to have been blind about a lot of things. “And I wish the two of them well.”

  He was just happy it wasn’t him.

  “As do I,” she said, chuckling at his expression. “But you do realize that in your quest to redeem yourself with the town, you have, however unintentionally, made it look like we are more than simple business associates.”

  He had. He knew he had. And it hadn’t been entirely unintentional. He knew it was a bad idea. He had too many responsibilities to even consider a relationship right now. He’d only end up letting his girlfriend down, like he’d done with Brittany. And with Vivian laser-focused on starting up her business—not to mention whatever drama had happened with her baby’s father—he doubted she was looking for love, either.

  Yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself from getting closer to her. He enjoyed being around Vivian, whether it was strolling through the park, laughing at her blaring orange Broncos jersey or even shoveling cow patties out of her shop.

  Without consciously meaning to, he had set off down the very path he had promised himself he would never go down again.

  He was starting to have feelings for her.

  This couldn’t happen. He needed to nip this in the bud. Immediately. Before he messed things up and hurt Vivian. It was only a matter of time.

  “I’m thinking I’m not cut out to be a family man.”

  There. That should do it.

  “Because of one bad relationship?” She scoffed and waved him off, though he noticed the pain that flashed through her eyes. “Don’t be silly.”

  He snorted. “Believe me, it’s been more than one. Brittany is, unfortunately for the women of Serendipity, just the last and most vocal of my long string of failures.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

  “Am I?” He looked deep into her eyes, seeing warmth, enthusiasm and...belief. Belief in him. Confidence in the man he could become.

  Trust.

  If her gentle smile was anything to go by, she clearly wasn’t going to let him get away with judging himself too harshly.

  “Who knows?” Her blue eyes glittered with amusement. “Maybe you just haven’t met the right woman yet.”

  Her bright smile almost convinced him that her words were true and that she believed them. But there was too much she wasn’t telling him.

  “Do you really believe that, or does this rule only apply to me?” he asked gently.

  Her gaze dropped to her belly and she refused to look up at him.

  “You’ve got me,” she said on a sigh. “I’m really good at giving other people advice, but I’m not so good at taking my own.”

  “Meaning?” He reached for her hand and covered it with his.

  “Does it not bother you that you’re hanging around with a pregnant single woman? Do you not wonder if I’m being hypocritical, attending church as an unwed mother?”

  He immediately shook his head. He didn’t. He never had. Whatever Viv’s story turned out to be, he had no doubt that she was a genuine woman of faith.

  “Well, I am a hypocrite. Or at least, I was.” She blew out a breath.

  “You don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I think I do.”

  He nodded for her to continue.

  After a long pause, she spoke again. “I was engaged to Derrick—the father of my son. I’m ashamed to admit I allowed myself to be pulled into a verbally and emotionally abusive relationship.”

  His hand tightened around hers. Without knowing one more detail about this Derrick guy, Nick wanted to throttle him. That wouldn’t help Vivian or her baby now, but he wished he could have protected
Vivian from such a cad.

  “Derrick put a lot of pressure on me to turn my back on my faith, on my morals. But I can’t lay all the blame at his door. In the end it was my bad decision and wrong actions.”

  “You got pregnant.”

  “Yes.” She laid a protective hand over her belly. “I knew it was wrong, what Derrick and I had done, but I truly believed it would all work out in the end. I thought we would get married, just sooner than we’d planned. But when I told Derrick about the baby, he was furious. Even though he knew perfectly well he was the only man I’d ever been with, he denied he was the father and declared he wanted nothing to do with either one of us.”

  Nick had a hard time believing any man could be so cruel. Any real man. Derrick definitely wouldn’t qualify for that category.

  “Has he contacted you since?”

  “No. I’ve called him a few times, but he recently changed his phone number. I’m truly on my own.”

  Nick tipped her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

  “No, you’re not,” he whispered, his voice gravelly. “You’re not alone.”

  Chapter Six

  “Uncle Nick! Uncle Nick!”

  Vivian laughed as young Brody, Slade’s adopted four-year-old son, launched himself into Nick’s arms. In Brody’s exuberance, he overshot his mark and nearly barreled into Vivian.

  Her pulse jumped up and she placed a protective hand over her middle. It was only Nick’s quick reflexes that kept her from being wrestled right off the park bench.

  Nick leaned in to catch Brody, swinging him into the air and wiggling him until he giggled in delight. The black-and-white-spotted ball the boy had been holding dropped to the ground, unnoticed.

  “Look where you’re going, little dude,” Nick said, setting the boy on his feet again. “You nearly knocked over this pretty young lady here.”

  Vivian’s heart skipped a beat. Did he really think she was pretty? Did that mean he didn’t see her as damaged or flawed, even after all she’d just told him?

  “It’s nothing,” she assured them.

  “Yes, it is,” Nick contended. “In the McKenna family little men learn to be courteous to ladies. And that includes not knocking them off of park benches. Especially not women about to have a baby. We have to be extra respectful of them.”

  Vivian had a sudden vision of being cradled in Nick’s arms the day she’d fallen over the drywall. He’d been so afraid she’d hurt herself. At the time all she could remember was feeling annoyed, but now the memory came along with sensory details, things she’d missed the first time.

  The gentleness and worry lining his deep, rich voice. The scent of leather and spice that was uniquely Nick. The rippling of the muscles in his arms and chest. The way he carried her as if she weighed no more than a feather, even though her body had thickened with her unborn child.

  “Brody, you have to treat girls with respect. You have to be nice to them.”

  Brody made a face and reached for his ball. Evidently he wasn’t a big fan of girls yet.

  “What do you say you apologize to Miss Vivian?” Nick gently took the boy’s shoulders and turned him toward her.

  Little Brody’s head hung. He looked adorably contrite. “Sorry I almost hit you,” he muttered almost too quietly to hear.

  “You are quite forgiven, sweetheart. No hard feelings, okay?” She reached out a hand to the boy and they shook on it.

  Nick stole the ball from Brody’s grip. He hefted the ball back to Brody and grinned at Viv. “Do you mind if I play with my nephew for a few?”

  “No, not at all. Take your time. After spending the whole morning with a mask over my face, I’m enjoying the fresh air. Have fun playing with your basketball.”

  Brody crowed with laughter.

  “It’s a soccer ball,” Nick corrected, one corner of his lips tugging up.

  “You kick the ball, not bounce it,” Brody informed her in a solemn tone of voice.

  “I apologize for my mistake,” Viv said with equal seriousness. “I’m a complete newbie where sports are concerned. I promise I will remember that fact for the next time I observe soccer.”

  Nick winked at her and lobbed the ball out onto the green grass. Both Nick and Brody chased after it, hooting and hollering as they kicked it back and forth to each other.

  Vivian waved to Laney, who was sitting under a shelter chatting with a group of women and then turned her attention back to the boys. She thought the game itself was as boring as watching oil dry. Kicking the ball back and forth, back and forth, with no end in sight. But she enjoyed watching Nick interact with his nephew.

  Nick’s expression, usually so serious, relaxed, the hard ridges and lines of stress diminishing. Rich laughter bubbled from his chest as he feigned right, then left, and then let little Brody steal the ball away from him—all without letting the boy know that Nick was giving rather than taking.

  She loved watching how Nick subtly raised the child’s confidence as he taught him how to move the ball—dribble...apparently the word was dribble—across the grass using only the insides of his feet.

  Considering the fact that they’d both admonished her that soccer was all about kicking the ball, it seemed to her that they spent an awful lot of time bouncing the ball off of other body parts—in particular, their heads.

  At one point, Nick even picked the ball off the ground and tossed it repeatedly at Brody so the boy could practice popping the ball into the air with his forehead.

  What kind of barbarity was that? What was he trying to do? Give the poor little dude brain damage?

  Men. And little men. It was easy for Vivian to believe they might well be an entirely different species. Would it be the same way with her son? How could she ever hope to keep up with Baby G if she didn’t understand the way he ticked?

  If it was anybody but Nick, she would have worried about Brody getting hurt, but his affection for his nephew was obvious in Nick’s every move, head-bonking notwithstanding. His encouragement was visibly raising the boy’s confidence level in addition to his skill on the playing field.

  And he thought he wasn’t cut out to be a family man? Anyone with eyes in their head could see how good he was with children. How could he not see that in himself?

  Nick smiled and waved at her, and for the first time in her life, she wished she’d paid more attention to sports when she was in school so she could join Nick and Brody in their play. She’d attended a few games in high school, but she had always been too busy talking with her friends to pay any attention to what was happening on the field. And she’d hated phys ed.

  Who would teach her son how to dribble a soccer ball, or even pop it off his forehead, though the thought made her cringe? She certainly wouldn’t be the one to do it.

  Here she was, in a park full of happy, joy-filled adults and children, and she felt the most completely and utterly alone she’d ever been. Her baby’s future, his care and his happiness, all depended on her. She had no partner in life with whom to share both the blessings and the burdens of parenthood.

  It was she and she alone.

  How could she possibly teach her son all the things he’d need to know to grow into adulthood? How could she be both mother and father to him? She didn’t even know the difference between a basketball and a soccer ball, much less how to play the games. It was a silly thing, she knew, but at the moment it felt totally overwhelming.

  She was long past being angry that Derrick had abandoned her, but she still couldn’t comprehend how he could possibly refuse to be a father to his own son, or even to acknowledge paternity.

  Deep down, Viv knew that it was the best thing for both her and her child. What kind of father would Derrick have made anyway, moving in and out of their son’s life? He wouldn’t have given the baby any stability or securi
ty.

  Not to mention, Derrick hadn’t treated her well, and she doubted he would have been any better with their baby. It was by God’s grace that she had gotten out of that toxic relationship and returned to Serendipity where she belonged. She couldn’t bear the thought of her precious baby exposed to that kind of abuse. But even though in her heart she knew it would have been detrimental to have had Derrick in their lives, it still didn’t seem fair that her child had to grow up in a single-parent household—especially hers.

  She felt so completely inadequate for the task. A child deserved to grow up with a mother and a father.

  In a perfect world.

  She didn’t realize Nick and Brody had stopped kicking the ball around until Nick suddenly dropped onto the bench beside her, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Sweat slicked his forehead and he used the bottom of his T-shirt to dab it away.

  “Brody, you need to take it easy on your poor uncle Nick,” Nick said, grabbing the boy around the shoulders and tickling his belly. “I’m too old to keep up with you.”

  Nick met Viv’s gaze and raised his eyebrows, clearly expecting a laugh. She really should be laughing.

  Nick, an out-of-shape old man?

  Laughable.

  She managed to wrestle up a smile but couldn’t summon the mirth to go with it, even when Nick lagged his tongue out to the side and panted like a pooch.

  “You goof,” she said, playfully shoving his shoulder. She appreciated what he was doing to get her out of her funk, even if it wasn’t working.

  He narrowed his gaze on her and then reached out and gently caressed the line of her jaw. A million tiny electrical currents accompanied the slow path of his fingertips.

  “You usually think so.” He leaned forward until his lips were mere centimeters from her ear. His warm breath fanned her cheeks, sending a shiver of awareness down her spine.