Christmas With the Kings, Kings of Montana Bonus Book

by Vanessa Bartal

  Chapter 6

  As soon as PJ stepped out of Cade and Layla’s house, she realized she had no idea where to go. The weather was freezing, so playing outside wasn’t an option. The barns were heated, but also filled with manure and all manner of gear and tools. She scanned the horizon, looking for anything relevant. Besides the barns, there was the dorm that housed the ranch hands, Coy and Ivy’s house, and the main house.

  Coy and Ivy’s house was out of the question because Ivy needed her rest as much or more than anyone. In fact, PJ made a mental note to check on them as soon as possible to see how they were faring. That left only the main house and she realized it had been the best option all along. Even though it was filled with sick people, they were contained in their rooms, far from the living room where she would keep the children.

  The children, who had always been little bundles of energy, were both squirming for release by the time she reached the main house. She set them down and quickly realized her mistake—not only was Cam asleep on the couch in the living room, but there were no doors on either end of the large room. Even if they could stay without waking Cam, PJ would spend her time running from end to end, chasing the kids and retrieving them from other rooms. Instead she quickly scooped them up again and jogged down the hallway before their squeals of protest could wake Cam.

  She closed the duo in the den, thankful for the sturdy wooden door whose handle was too tall for chubby baby fingers to reach. She had the feeling she was about to be exhausted, and she was correct. The babies were like perpetual motion machines, whirling dervishes who never stopped moving. The wall opposite the door was lined top to bottom with books, and within seconds the kids began removing every book from the bottom two shelves. PJ allowed them to do it because it kept them occupied for five full minutes and because it was easier to pick up the books than it was to try and keep the kids away from them.

  Throughout the afternoon PJ developed a babysitting philosophy—do whatever works. If they wanted to eat lunch sitting under the table instead of trying to balance on chairs that were too big, then that’s what they did. If the water in the sink splashed all over the floor then that was fine, too, because it kept their attention for twenty minutes and only took two to clean up. If rolling them in a blanket and dragging them all over the den made them giggle like fiends, then PJ would do it until she dropped, which was looking more and more eminent because they were wearing her out.

  When they started to cry over trivial things and rub their eyes, she sensed they were sleepy, so she rooted around the now messy floor until she located a children’s book. Of course the kids didn’t want to sit still to listen to a story, but PJ gently pinned them in place and captured their attention by giving the characters high-pitched voices. At first the babies watched her as she read the book, and then they turned their attention to the pictures on the page. At last, they fell asleep, each curled toward PJ with a chubby fist thrown over her midsection for good measure.

  That was how Ethan found her an hour later, asleep on the leather sofa with two dark-haired babies cuddled in her lap, their fists bunched tightly in her nubby cotton shirt. Her ebony hair spilled over her shoulders, intermingling with a baby’s tiny curls. His breath caught and held at the maternal sight as something primal awakened and responded. I want that, he thought. And I want that with her.

  He remained frozen in the doorway, staring silently as he tried to realign his thoughts. Of course he didn’t want that with her; that thought had just popped out because he saw her looking so beautiful while holding babies. He probably would have had the same thought about any woman. He tried to picture Chrissy cuddled up so sweetly, but the image wouldn’t form. Instead he saw her shrieking in terror as she ran to rub stain stick over any clothes the kids might have touched. No, Chrissy wasn’t the maternal type. PJ was.

  But lots of girls were. Weren’t they? He searched his mind, trying to remember all the girls he had dated lately. Any of them would make good mothers, wouldn’t they? Okay, more than one of them had expressed a desire for a nanny whenever she had kids, but everyone needed help. Just because someone wanted to employ a fulltime nanny didn’t mean she wouldn’t be a good mother. PJ would never want a nanny for her kids, an insistent little voice informed him. Good for her. I’m sure she’ll be very happy whenever she decides to have kids with someone who isn’t me, he tried to tell himself. But the thought of her having someone else’s kids made him frown for reasons he didn’t understand. She was a stranger; he had known her one day.

  There were some people in the world who believed in love at first sight. Ethan wasn’t one of them. He believed that people dated for long periods of time, vetting each other’s good and bad character traits until at last they found the person they were suited for. To buy into the notion of falling in love with a stranger was setting oneself up for failure—it just didn’t happen. What he had was a bad case of attraction. PJ was lovely and unique. That was all. She wasn’t his soul mate or destiny or one true love, or any other bunk.

  Her long lashes fluttered a couple of times before her eyes met and locked on his. Inside, his heart twisted as if someone wrenched it with both hands and he hoped his grin wasn’t as goofy as it felt as she slowly came to and returned his smile.

  “How’s Belle?” she whispered.

  “Sleeping peacefully,” he answered, also in a whisper. “I think her fever finally broke. Cam woke up and untied her, and now they’re both sleeping in the bed.” He didn’t add that they had fallen asleep before he left the room, spooned together like two halves of a whole. The sight had left him yearning for what they had. He had never experienced the sort of connection with anyone that Belle and Cam shared with each other. The older he got, the more he wanted it. Maybe that was what his crazy attraction to PJ was about. Maybe he wanted her to be his Montana someone the same way Cam was Belle’s Montana someone.

  He edged toward the sofa and sat gingerly beside PJ, taking care not to disturb the babies. PJ shifted positions and winced. The combined weight of two babies couldn’t be very comfortable. Instinctively, he reached for one of the babies, the boy, and took him, cuddling him close and giving PJ a reprieve. She resettled the remaining girl in her clasp and sat up, unwittingly moving closer to Ethan in the process.

  They sat on the couch, side by side, staring at the babies in wonder.

  “They’re so…” Ethan trailed off, unable to find an adjective strong enough to describe what he felt when he stared at the beautiful baby in his arms.

  “Aren’t they, though?” PJ agreed. She felt the same indescribable yearning every time she was near the kids. Oh, she knew they were a ton of work and it wasn’t all lollipops and roses, but one look at the dark little curls and she was sucked into the magic all over again.

  This day had been definitive for her. Seeing the way that Josh, Cade, and Cam cared for their wives made her realize anew how much she wanted that for herself. She wasn’t willing to settle for just anyone; she wanted Mr. Right. Beside her, Ethan was unknowingly earning points in that direction, first for his devotion to Belle and then for his overjoyed wonder as he stared at baby Levi.

  Ethan’s free hand reached out touched baby Lexi’s curls. “Pretty,” he commented, but when PJ looked up, he was looking at her and not the baby.

  For the first time in recent memory, PJ’s cheeks heated with a blush. No one had ever told her she was pretty before, no one had ever made her feel pretty. No one but Ethan.

  He smiled as his gaze once again dropped to the baby in his arms. They sat in companionable silence, shoulders touching, Ethan found the experience idyllic. When was the last time he had simply sat beside a girl, enjoying some peace and quiet? His friends in New York were up and comers, constantly on the go and trying to get ahead. At twenty nine, he was in his prime. But here in Montana, twenty nine was old to be single. All the King brothers were married and settled, and all of them were younger than he. Cade, the father of Levi and Lexi, was four years younger.


  In New York, everything felt right, as if he was exactly where he should be. But in Montana, everything about his life felt off-kilter. Maybe the reason he felt so comfortable with his life in New York was because he didn’t examine it too closely. His parents had been high school sweethearts and were still in love. Ethan had always secretly looked down on their blue-collar lifestyle as provincial. He had left home seeking an urbane existence, and he had found it. Why, then, wasn’t he happy? Why did he have the sinking suspicion that his parents had the right idea all along?

  At the same time, he felt frustrated that he was questioning himself. He had come to Montana to have a romantic getaway with his girlfriend and to spend some relaxing time with his friends. He wasn’t supposed to realize his life was all wrong and his girlfriend was a shallow brat.

  He inwardly winced as the last thought hit hard. What on earth was he doing with Chrissy? How had he fooled himself so completely about her? At least he could be thankful that he had brought her to Montana instead of home to Ohio to meet his parents. He could only imagine what his mom and sisters would say about her.

  What would they say about PJ? Like a beacon, she drew his gaze again. They would love her, he knew it. And she would love them, especially his nieces and nephews. She would be the type that would roll up her sleeves and help his mother in the kitchen.

  “Do you cook?” he blurted, forcing his voice to a whisper when the baby in his arms jumped and began to suck his thumb.

  PJ nodded, her eyes wide with surprise at the random question that broke the placid silence between them. “Do you?” she whispered.

  He smiled. “Only when I really want to impress someone.” He paused before continuing. “I would cook for you,” he added softly.

  If he cooked for her, she would no doubt be impressed. No one had ever cooked for her. The flattering comment flustered her, so she changed the subject. “Speaking of food, someone needs to cook for this family tonight, and I know just the person.”