Perfect Bride for Christmas, A

by Dyann Love Barr

  “Are you happy?”

  For a second she stared at him like she’d been pole axed.

  “Happy?”

  “Yes, it’s a simple concept. I know you lost your husband and I’m truly sorry. Tell me, what have the last five years been like? Did he treat you well?”

  Zoe smiled. Her fingers traced little invisible designs on the tabletop. “Yes, I’ve been both happy and content. James made it a point to be the best husband and father possible.” She raised her eyes to his, her face serious. “Nothing can take that away from my girls. He loved being a father—I think, more than he enjoyed being a husband. The girls were his life. Even when he knew he was dying, he made DVDs for them, scrap books so they could remember him, to remind them that he would always be their father.”

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  He frowned in confusion. What set that off?

  A commotion made him turn around in his chair. Three girls, identical except for their hairstyles, came through the back door of the shop with a tall, woman who could have been the embodiment of Nefertiti’s famous statue. They wore plaid school uniforms and blue wool coats.

  “They’re all ready to go to pre-school. Do you want to take them, or shall I?”

  Zoe held out her arms, and the three ran to her.

  “Michaela, Mia, Macy.” She kissed each on top of their heads. “This is Mr. King.”

  All three stared up at him with bright blue eyes, the irises ringed in black. Just like his.

  The one she called Michaela wore her dark hair in a ponytail. Mia’s long locks were held back with a headband. And Macy, who gave him a calculating look, sported long braids. Mia turned her face into her mother’s breasts.

  “Mia is the shy one. Say hello, ladies.”

  All three said hello at the same time. It was then Alex saw something that struck the breath from his lungs until he couldn’t remember how to breathe. Each girl had the King Notch on her left ear. His mother had always laughed about how each of her boys had been tagged from birth. Now, these three little girls carried the same birthmark.

  They had to be his.

  “Cherri, why don’t you take them to school today? The Henderson’s brisket is taking longer than I thought.” She gave the children a communal hug.

  “I’ve got a busy day, but I’ll see you before supper tonight. How about a movie and popcorn?”

  The girls yelled their consent, arguing about which movie to watch.

  “We’ll decide later. Now go on.”

  They followed behind Cherri like ducklings to the pond. Michaela gave him the hairy eyeball. Mia’s 54

  A Perfect Bride for Christmas gaze scooted away, and Macy… He could swear Macy curled her lip.

  After the door closed, he jumped to his feet.

  “When were going to tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?” A deep stab of anger pierced his heart. “My God, those are my children, aren’t they?”

  Zoe’s face paled. “They are my children. You gave up every right to them when you had our marriage annulled.” She got to her feet, came toe-to-toe with him, her finger punctuating each word with a poke to his chest. “I didn’t even think about the possibility of a pregnancy until three months after that night in Vegas. That’s when I found out.”

  “How do you not know you’re pregnant?”

  “I didn’t have any of the usual symptoms. No morning sickness, nothing out of the ordinary. I even had a couple of periods, or that’s what I thought until I felt woozy and keeled over at the office.

  James went with me to the ER.”

  She moved away, crossing her arms over her chest again. A typical Zoe defensive move. He’d seen a hundred times before.

  “Besides, my weight issues, I had high blood pressure, and to top it off, the doctors diagnosed me with gestational diabetes.”

  “And you never called me?”

  “Why would I?”

  She had a good point. How would he have reacted five year ago? To be honest, the idea of having a baby would’ve scared the crap out of him then. Three would’ve made him run headlong into traffic.

  His reaction to this morning’s revelation hadn’t been a good start to fatherhood. He’d envisioned a day in the future when he would have children, but to have three all at once made his stomach turn into a greasy mass of nausea. What kind of father would he be, could he be?

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  The knowledge she had no desire for him to be in their lives scalded his ego and hurt like hell. She would turn to someone else rather than him?

  “James Bennett married you because you were pregnant with another man’s child—children? How did you manage that? How did you get him into your bed? Or did he have a thing for fat chicks?”

  He wanted to throw up the instant the words left his mouth.

  Zoe paled, her eyes burned with anger while her fingers closed over the ornate top of the chair. “You are reviling a sweet man who was dying from heart disease. He wanted a wife and children, but he thought it impossible until I came along. James had a kind and generous nature, and dear God, he loved those babies.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “As far as they are concerned, he was their daddy.”

  “I’m their father.” Alex wanted to stake his claim.

  “No, you’re a sperm donor.”

  “So you’re admitting they are my children.”

  “No, I’m saying James Bennett is their father.

  It’s on the birth certificate if you want to look it up.

  I’m sure you will.”

  “Count on it.”

  Two flags of red scorched Zoe’s cheeks. That much hadn’t changed. Her temper flared, hot and furious, until it burned as hot as that day in Las Vegas. He rubbed the bump on his nose.

  “I’m asking you to leave. Any changes to the menu for the reception should be made through your mother. Good-bye Alex.”

  She dismissed him like an unwanted door-to-door salesman. Sorry, not interested. There was nothing he had that she wanted. Not even his name for her children.

  “Okay, I’ll go.” Alex reached into the inside pocket of his designer coat and pulled out a small, 56

  A Perfect Bride for Christmas leather, business card case. He walked over to the shop’s counter where she had several pens in a cheery gingerbread man holder. He pulled out a card and scribbled something on the back before handing it to her.

  She refused to take the card.

  He placed it on the table beside the door. “But don’t think I’ll let this go, Zoe.”

  She shook her head, giving him a sad smile. “I didn’t think you would.”

  The door chimed as he walked out.

  Zoe picked up the card and turned it over. He’d left her his private cell phone number along with a short note.

  I remember Vegas.

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  Chapter Seven

  Zoe came close to burning the brisket.

  The smell tipped her off the minute she got to the kitchen. Cursing herself for being a fool, she pulled back the foil and pried off a piece to taste. Zoe sent up a flurry of prayers of thanks that the brisket retained enough moistness to serve.

  Damn Alex for coming here and upsetting her life like this.

  Deep down, she had to admit she’d known this could happen. They were bound to meet at sometime. Part of her had even fantasized about it, she’d come up with her own scenario figured out about how she planned to tell Alex about the girls.

  This just wasn’t it.

  She went about packing up the food for the garden party on autopilot. The linens, tableware, and centerpieces had already arrived at the Hendersons, she’d made sure of that before Alex made his appearance. Her brain worked overtime trying to figure out how to handle this mess, now that Alex knew about her children. Would he really want to be a father to the girls or forget about them when the responsibility of the job hit him right between the eyes?

  Zoe couldn’t blam
e him for being angry. The words he’d hurled at her about tricking James hurt, deep down to the bones, but she understood his rationale. Hadn’t she married Alex for her own selfish reasons? Still, it didn’t stop the memories of the anguish she’d felt that first day of their marriage 58

  A Perfect Bride for Christmas when she’d bashed his nose in for not remembering the night they shared. The words he’d said hurt, but not as bad as his rejection of her love.

  By the time she got the van ready to go, she’d convinced herself that Alex would be glad she hadn’t demanded he be a father to her girls. He just wasn’t father material. Especially with Sydney Stanford in the picture.

  The rest of the day went fast and forgetful of Alex. Maddie Henderson kept her on her toes, asking this, wanting that. By the time the event ended and the last dirty dish was ready to go back to the vendor, Zoe could finally draw breath and think.

  The kids were through with school by the time she got home. She smelled chocolate chip cookies. Cherri had Mia and Michaela spooning out dough onto the cookie sheet. Macy reached out to take one of the cookies cooling on the rack.

  “No you don’t, baby girl, those are for supper.”

  From the evidence around her cherub’s mouth, she’d already had one. “I’m just checking to make sure they’re good.”

  Zoe picked up one and bit in. “They are good.

  But you’ve already had your share for the evening.”

  “Mommy,” Macy whined. “That’s not fair.”

  “Everyone gets a cookie for dessert, one each.

  You know the rules. Cherri?”

  Cherri didn’t look up. “I’m not ratting anyone out.” “Did anyone else have cookies?”

  “I did.” Michaela thrust out her chin.

  Zoe figured she might be covering for her sister, but she wanted to find out if Mia would fess up.

  “No you didn’t, I did.” Mia took Michaela’s hand.

  “She’s just trying to keep me out of trouble.”

  “Okay.” The girls knew their mother was strict when it came to sweets. “I tell you what. You can each have a cookie for dessert, but no more. Sweets 59

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  are special. If you ate them all the time, you’d get sick.”

  “Not me,” Macy said, her eyes on the new batch of cookies being transferred from the baking sheet to the rack to join the others.

  Zoe wrapped her arms around her cookie monster. “Yes, even you.”

  Dinner turned into mass confusion, with a mixture of hot dogs, broccoli and oven fried potatoes.

  The girls were big fans of the ‘little green trees’ as they called broccoli, so it wasn’t a chore to get them to eat their vegetables, but they preferred the fries from McDonalds. Cookies were passed out, the movie UP watched, and baths taken before they were tucked into bed.

  “Mommy, who is Mr. King?” Macy peered up at her out of Alex’s blue eyes. They held the same challenge she’d seen in his when he cornered someone on the stand. “Is he your friend?”

  “He used to be.” She snugged the blanket closer to the precious body. “A long time ago.”

  “Is that why he looks like Mia and Michaela?”

  Zoe’s world tilted. A four-year-old could tell see the resemblance between her sisters and Alex—it was too much.

  “What makes you think that?” She glanced over at the other girls who were close to drifting off.

  “There are a lot of blue-eyed, dark haired men in the world. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Who is our daddy?”

  If the first revelation made Zoe’s breath hitch, the second took it away. It took a few seconds before she could speak. “Why would you ask that, baby?”

  “Michaela, Mia, and me, we heard Aunt Brenda say Daddy wasn’t our daddy.”

  “When?”

  “At the funnelal.”

  “Funeral. Aunt Brenda said that?”

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  A Perfect Bride for Christmas Macy nodded. “Is it true?”

  Zoe felt like killing Brenda Bennett. She meant it for the best, but who says something like that to a three-year-old? “You were only three. Maybe you heard wrong.”

  “Nope,” Michaela murmured. “Aunt Brenda acted funny, though. She smelled funny and laughed a lot. You’re not supposed to laugh at funnelals”

  Brenda Bennett had been drinking. That explained a lot.

  Zoe found a weak smile. “Don’t worry about Aunt Brenda. She doesn’t know everything, even if she thinks she does. Now go to sleep.”

  “Night, Mommy,” Mia sighed, half-asleep.

  Kisses and hugs finished the conversation. Zoe turned off the lights and leaned back against the door. What was she going to do? The girls were asking about their parentage, with Alex hot on their heels with questions of his own.

  Then there was the kiss. She had to be out of her mind to allow herself the indulgence of kissing him back, to forget the past. All the old needs and wants came rushing back in a heartbeat. His kiss melted her like chocolate under heat.

  Zoe licked her lips, trying to recreate the sensations, but it was a poor substitute. She could still taste him on her mouth. Madness lay there, waiting to draw her down into depression again.

  Depression meant eating, and she refused to go down that road. Not for Alex, not for any man.

  Besides, Alex already had a woman. She shouldn’t be surprised he slipped back into old habits. When would she learn? Her drug of choice had Alex’s name all over it.

  Zoe went downstairs to the kitchen, trying to decide between a cup of coffee or a sharp knife.

  Cherri beat her to brewing a fresh pot.

  “Good, you took the decision out of my hands.”

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  The dark, enticing aroma filled the kitchen as she poured herself a cup, adding a large dollop of half-and-half. The first sip calmed her jangled nerves.

  “This is exactly what I needed. You just saved me from slitting my wrists.”

  Cherri raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought I’d just made coffee. Maybe I need a raise.”

  “All the chicks have come home to roost—right over my head.”

  “Ah, that must be the mysterious Mr. King.”

  Cherri added a couple of sugar cubes to her coffee. “I noticed the resemblance.”

  Zoe frowned. “Did you say anything to the girls?

  They’re asking a lot of questions.” She hadn’t meant to sound accusatory, but it came out that way.

  A blush rose over Cherri’s coffee-colored skin, her dark eyes flashed. “Even if I think what I think, I would never tell the girls. You should know that.”

  She got up from the table and dumped the contents of her mug into the sink. “I’m out of here.”

  Uh-oh. Zoe knew she’d stepped in it big time.

  “Wait.” She put down her cup and stepped in front of Cherri. “I apologize.” She ran her hand through her short hair. “Look, the girls asked me some questions I don’t know how to answer. Their Aunt Brenda made some remarks at the funeral.

  Macy wondered if Alex might be their father. I mean, how do four-year-olds know enough to connect Alex’s looks with theirs, or anything? Lord, I’m making a mess of this. See why the knives seemed so inviting when I came in?”

  Cherri shook her head and guided Zoe back to the table. “Maybe we need to put a lock on the Animal Planet. Sex was a hot topic today.”

  “Their Aunt Brenda is getting an earful tomorrow. I want to get her before she starts her daily intake of ‘tonic’.”

  “So tell me all about your Baby Daddy.”

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  A Perfect Bride for Christmas Zoe buried her head in her hands and started the long, sordid tale of her few hours as Alex King’s bride.

  ****

  Alex banged his pen against his desk as he waited for Keeley Jacobs to come to the phone. He’d waited until near the close of business Pacific Time before attempting the call. He didn’t like wa
iting. She might be a busy architect, but given the late hour, he damn well knew she wanted to make a point. Okay, let her.

  The minutes that passed on hold gave him time to think about Zoe’s children—correct that, his children.

  He liked the way the one introduced as Michaela seemed to be a take-no-prisoners girl and met him square in the eye. She’d probably mow down anyone who tried to hurt her mother or sisters. Mia’s shyness made him feel protective, to hold her the way Zoe had. And Macy, something about that kid connected with him on a gut level. She challenged him with a glare. The look said she didn’t trust him a bit. He’d have to convince her of his sincerity.

  Hell, he had to convince Zoe. How could he regain her friendship when he said such unforgivable things to her?. Why had he turned into such hateful toad?

  He rubbed the bump on his nose, his finger lowering to touch his mouth. Then there was The Kiss. Even now, he got hard thinking about it, the way she tasted—delicious, deep and dark with a hint of barbeque sauce. Maybe the barbeque sauce made him want to devour her right there in the middle of her shop.

  No, it was all Zoe. How could he ever have forgotten her? Why had it taken five years to find out he craved her like the brisket she had cooking in the oven?

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  He touched the small indentation in his left ear, letting a fierceness overtake him that he’d never felt before. All other emotions paled before the instant love and the need to protect what belonged to him.

  Sydney would say he’d regressed into some macho caveman—he didn’t give a rat’s ass what she thought at this moment. Those girls were his.

  A small nudge of guilt poked at him.

  How did Sydney fit into this new, unexpected twist to his life? He still planned to marry her in less than two weeks and yet, he felt restless, as if she had become irrelevant. What about the children?

  Sydney made her feelings known when it came to the subject of kids. He’d planned to slowly talk her into the idea of children, but to have three thrust on her would be too traumatic.