The Christmas Baby Bump

by Lynne Marshall

  “I abstained, remember?” she said, grateful that everything seemed back to normal between them. It helped snap her out of the weepiness.

  Deeply grateful for this night and all the distractions, she took her place and waved toward Jon on the docks as he snapped several more group shots. Then Jason backed the vessel out of the berth, laying on the air horn for a long and attention-getting blast.

  Claire lifted first Gina and then Robbie onto Phil’s lap. He pulled his chin in, as if aliens from planet Xenon had just been dropped from a spacecraft.

  “Listen up, you two.” Claire held each of their chins in a hand. “Do not get down from Santa’s lap. Do you understand?”

  Mesmerized by her firm clutch, they gave her their undivided attention and both nodded.

  Though more relaxed with Robbie, Phil looked completely out of his element, with Gina bouncing excitedly on his knee. Stephanie hid her smirk. At least he wasn’t complaining.

  It seemed as if it took forever to line up the participating boats and set sail in Santa Barbara bay. They’d head toward Stearns Wharf, sail around the end and along the other side, then down the coast for a few miles before starting back toward the harbor.

  The magnificent sight of a fleet of decorated boats reflecting off the blackening sea made Stephanie’s eyes prickle again. When she looked back toward shore and saw the rolling hillsides and houses heavily covered with holiday lights, and the palm tree silhouettes dotting the beach, she couldn’t hold back her feelings. For the first time since Justin’s death she’d explore the goodness of the season. She couldn’t bring him back, but she could celebrate his short existence by refusing to let the sadness dictate her life. Even if it was only for tonight.

  Overwhelmed, she let her tears brim and dribble down her cheeks. They weren’t the usual tears that burned with guilt. Not today. They were tears of joy and goodwill…and letting go. Today she’d extend that goodwill to herself. A huge weight the size of Santa’s gift sack seemed to lift from her shoulders. Suddenly feeling as buoyant as the ocean, she anchored herself to the rail and waved to the passing judges’ motorboat, her smile genuine and filled with the spirit of the season.

  Jason released the cork from the champagne bottle in his living room, sending it flying through the air as everyone ducked. While he splashed the bubbling liquid into several outreaching glasses, he beamed with satisfaction.

  “Here’s to a well-deserved win,” he said. “We finally did it!”

  Everyone cheered.

  Phil saw Stephanie standing beside Claire and René, applauding along with everyone else.

  The sight of her earlier on the boat had knocked him off balance. He’d felt compelled to make things right, but wasn’t sure if she wanted anything to do with him, and he wanted to respect her feelings. He hadn’t felt that lacking in confidence and confused over a woman since high school. All he knew for sure was that she’d left abruptly a week ago, and he hadn’t been the same since. And that damn ticking clock counting down the days until she left for home didn’t help either.

  Under the bright lights of the Rogerses’ family room, Stephanie’s hair was decidedly red. The royal-purple satin blouse she wore accented the color even more. She’d taken off her ridiculous sweater, and he definitely liked what he saw.

  He’d miss her when she was gone. Hell, he’d missed her all week. She’d stay here until the first of the year, and if he played his hand right, he’d get things back on track and hopefully have her back in his bed before the night was over.

  He snagged an extra glass of bubbly and delivered it to her. “Here’s to our win.”

  Her bright eyes widened and her generous smile let him know she was happy to see him. “And kudos to you for juggling two squirming kids all evening.”

  He shook his head. “Man, since Robbie has been sleeping with CPAP he has even more energy. I was ready to throw him overboard a couple of times, but I kept thinking Roma would be really mad at me.”

  She laughed. “You’d never do that.”

  “Figure of speech.” He enjoyed the little patches of red on her cheeks and neck. He’d spent enough time around her to know that meant she was nervous. He still made her nervous. Was that a good thing? Hell, she made him nervous, too, and he liked it.

  “Admit it, you love that kid,” she said.

  “He is my brother.” Talking about kids wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. He’d had a whole week to devise his plan. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” With his hand on her lower back, he guided her to a quiet corner of the room.

  “What’s up?” She gazed at him with suspicion.

  “We’re friends, right? And we’re supposed to be honest with each other,” he said, noticing her eyes soften at the edges and her lusciously alluring lips pout ever so slightly. He wanted to kiss her, but they were in a room full of fellow employees. Even though whispers and suspicions traveled the watercooler circuit at the clinic, he wasn’t about to flaunt their private relationship. “That’s why I want you to know that I’m ready to take the next step.”

  Wide-eyed disbelief had returned. She took a quick sip of champagne and nearly choked on it. He tapped her back as her eyes watered.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to shock you.”

  She coughed and sputtered. “What are you talking about—take the next step?”

  “Listen,” Phil said. “I know it’s kind of hard to take a man dressed in a surfin’ Santa suit seriously, but I want you to know I’ve really been doing a lot of thinking over the last week.”

  The suspicious glint returned to her eyes.

  “Yeah, and the thing is I’ve decided to try commitment out.”

  “What?” She blurted a laugh. “Just like that? You’re putting me on.”

  “Well, maybe one step at a time. Seriously, don’t you think that’s progress for a guy like me?”

  “Hey, that’s great. Really, I think it’s great,” she said, but the subtle slope of her shoulders and that naggingly suspicious gaze wasn’t very encouraging. She obviously didn’t believe he’d changed a bit.

  “So you have any plans tomorrow?” he said.

  The champagne flute was halfway to her mouth when she tossed him a surprised glance.

  “I thought I’d hit the local shelter. Maybe you can help me pick out a dog?”

  Bad timing. She’d taken another sip, and along with her wry laugh she blew champagne out of her mouth.

  “What? You don’t think I can handle a committed relationship with a dog?”

  All she could do was shake her head and point her finger at him with a one-day-I’ll-get-you-back-for-this glower.

  He knew he was pushing the limit, but he couldn’t help playing with her, especially when her reaction was so satisfying. “What do you say, are you in?”

  Having wiped her mouth, and found her voice again, she said, “I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

  What had gotten into Phil? He’d brought her a glass of champagne and strung her along with his newfound wisdom about relationships, then got her good. She shook her head and laughed to herself. The guy was completely spontaneous, and she thoroughly enjoyed him. She pushed aside the quick thought about love she’d had earlier.

  He was ready to commit…to a dog.

  She couldn’t very well leave him to his own resources over such a big decision. The guy—the charming and sexiest Santa she’d ever laid her eyes on—needed help choosing a dog. How could she refuse?

  Phil had hoped to bring Stephanie home with him tonight, but he didn’t want to blow any progress he’d made by imposing his desires. He’d have to wait another day, get her all worked up over some canine’s big brown eyes, have her help him make the dog at home then ask her to stay for dinner. If things worked out the way they usually did when the two of them were alone together, he’d put Fido in the yard and bring Stephanie back to his bed.

  Not that he was using a dog simply to impress Stephanie. Once he’d thought about it and made the decision, he re
ally wanted one. Loyal. Dependable. Warm. Loving. A dog would never leave him, and was exactly what he needed for companionship.

  Phil turned the final corner to his street, rubbed his jaw, and smiled. Being Santa had been a blast. Who could have guessed? If Stephanie hadn’t pushed him into the job, he never would have known. And the constant smile on her face on the boat made all the humiliation worthwhile.

  Something seemed different about her, he thought as he parked in his garage. He’d never been known for being intuitive, but he could have sworn she’d left half of her usual baggage behind tonight.

  He’d picked up on her playful spirit and tested out the limits. He shook his head and grinned as he unlocked his house door. He’d imagined Stephanie Bennett doing all kinds of sexy things, but he’d never expected to see her spit champagne across the room. A hearty laugh tumbled from his throat as he stepped inside. It echoed off the empty house walls, and once again he was reminded how big and lonely his bachelor pad was.

  The rows of metal cages, with every size, breed, and shape of dog filling every single one, almost broke Stephanie’s heart. She could hardly bear to look into any of the dogs’ eyes. The cages lined the walls of the cement-floored warehouse/shelter, where the smell of urine and dog breath permeated the air.

  “I wish I could buy all of them,” Phil said, echoing her sentiments.

  His sincerity had her reaching for his hand.

  He squeezed her fingers and gave her a tender glance. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

  On the drive over, on a gorgeous sunny day, they’d discussed the kind of dog he was looking for—big, sleek and muscular. To Stephanie’s ears his “kind of dog” sounded a bit like him. If she had her choice, she’d go for something petite and furry. Hmm, was that like her?

  Loud barking and yipping made it almost impossible to carry on a conversation as they walked the length of the shelter. Some jumped and yipped incessantly, others hovered in the corners of their cages, and still others paced restlessly back and forth with anxious eyes taking everything in.

  “Lots of these dogs got left behind when home owners walked away from their mortgages. With the lousy economy, other people couldn’t afford to have a dog anymore,” the shelter worker said. “We’re hoping the Christmas season will help find some of these dogs homes.”

  Stephanie spotted a little bundle of cream-colored wavy fur with round brown eyes getting overrun by two other small dogs. It looked like a puppy.

  The shelter worker must have picked up on her interest. “That one is a terrier mix. She’s a bit older than most of the others.”

  “Hey, look at this one!” Phil called her attention away, but she glanced over her shoulder one last time at the so-called older dog, before moving on.

  Amidst several cages of Labrador retrievers and German shepherds was a medium-size dark-furred dog.

  “That one’s a collie-Lab mix. One year old. Owner had to move out of state.”

  Phil petted the dog on his head, and the dog licked his hand.

  “Both breeds are smart and they generally have good dispositions. Mixed breeds are often healthier than purebreds, too. They love their owners. Very loyal.”

  As if it was the easiest decision in the world, Phil nodded and smiled. “What’s his name?”

  “Daisy.”

  “It’s a her, huh?”

  “And she’s been spayed.”

  “Good to know. Hey, Daisy, you like big yards and sunset walks along the beach?” The dog whimpered and licked his hand again.

  Stephanie laughed at Phil’s ability to charm females of all species.

  “What do you think, Steph? Would Daisy and I make a good pair?”

  His willingness to open his home to a forgotten pound dog warmed her insides. The change in his attitude since taking care of Robbie was astounding. She had the urge to give him a big kiss and hug, but touched his face instead. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and the stubble made a scraping sound as she ran her fingers down his jaw.

  “I think you and Daisy will make a great couple, and I promise I won’t get jealous about your new female friend.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Then I’ll take her.”

  As he filled out the paperwork and paid the fees, Stephanie kept going back to the little terrier mix up front. “Hey, sweetie,” she whispered. The dog timidly explored the front of the cage, trying to sniff her fingers but not letting her touch his head. There seemed to be a world of sadness in his eyes. “You need a home, huh?”

  “We’ll take this one, too,” Phil said from over her shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” she said, rounding on him.

  “I know love at first sight when I see it.” He gave a magnanimous grin. “Consider him a Christmas present.”

  “I can’t have a dog—I’m living in a hotel.”

  “The dog can stay with me until you go home. You have a town house in the desert, right?”

  “Yes, but I…”

  “Hey, don’t analyze everything. Let’s save two dogs today.” Before she could respond, he looked for the shelter worker again. “What’s this one’s name?”

  “Sherwood.”

  He laughed. “Sherwood. There you go. Stephanie and Sherwood. Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

  “How old is he?” she asked.

  “He’s older. Seven. His owner passed away.”

  That cinched it. The dog was grieving, something she understood completely. Though she felt inept, the shelter worker opened the cage and handed the dog to her. The trembling, compact dog fit perfectly in her arms. Fur partially covered soulful eyes, and a little pink tongue licked her knuckles. He was so trusting, and obviously missed his owner. The thought tied a string around her heart and squeezed. Phil was on to something. Maybe caring for a dog was the perfect stepping-stone for her lagging confidence. She could do this. She could take care of one small dog.

  “You’ll keep her until I move home?”

  “I’ve got enough room for six dogs in my yard. Let’s do it. Come on.”

  With more warm feelings washing over her, she hugged him and the dog yipped.

  “Okay, Sherwood. Looks like you’ve got yourself a new mommy,” she said, holding the dog to her face and enjoying the tickly fur.

  The warm feeling that had started at the animal shelter continued to grow as Stephanie spent the afternoon with Phil. They’d shopped for leashes and beds and the proper food for each breed and, most importantly, travel cages.

  Now that they’d unloaded everything at Phil’s house, Sherwood had timidly gone into his cage, almost as if it was a security blanket, and Stephanie tried to coax him out.

  “Come on, sweetie. I won’t bite,” she said, down on her knees, head halfway into the cage. She reached for him and he let her hold him then licked her face again.

  “Maybe you should carry him like that for a while, until he gets used to the new house,” Phil said, his dog dancing around his feet.

  She nodded, stirring that warm bowl of feelings brewing stronger and stronger for Phil. He’d been a prince today. For a guy who didn’t know the first thing about committing to a woman, he sure had no problem bringing a dog home.

  “I can’t figure out why I never did this before,” he said, petting Daisy’s silky black-and-white fur.

  “I guess you just needed a nudge.”

  As if they’d known each other all their lives, he kissed her while each of them held their new dogs. His warm and familiar mouth covering hers felt so right she hoped the day would never end.

  And later, when he asked her to spend the night with him, and she followed him down the hall to his bedroom, she realized the best part of the day was only getting started.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE next week went by in a whirlwind. Stephanie and Phil were inseparable. She’d go to his house every day after work: they’d walk the dogs; catch up on any leftover paperwork from the clinic; cook dinner; make passionate love; have breakfast together
; and head back to work. By Thursday, Phil suggested they carpool.

  A red flag waved in Stephanie’s mind. Wasn’t carpooling a thinly disguised assumption that she’d return to his house again that night? Why couldn’t he come right out and ask her to move in with him? Was this how all of his “flings” progressed, him keeping a subtle barrier until he tired of the woman and quit finding ways to spend time with her?

  She only had two more weeks in Santa Barbara—did she really need to complicate her stay by thinking in such a manner? If she’d mentally agreed to “a fling,” why were her emotions lagging so far behind?

  Giving herself a silent pep talk, she agreed to drive to work with him then mentally ran down the pros and cons of her decision. This was a fling—an unbelievably wonderful fling with a guy who made her happy in all respects, a guy who never asked questions or made demands.

  “You think this carpool business is a good idea?” she asked.

  “It’s good for the environment.” He grinned.

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

  “You’re already staying here every night. Sherwood wants you around.” He glanced across the front seat at her then quickly back to the road. “I kind of like having you around.”

  This from a guy who supposedly didn’t like to get involved or commit to relationships. She really needed to get her mind straight over this fling business.

  “What are you really asking me, Phil?”

  He pulled into his assigned parking place at the clinic and parked then turned toward her with an earnest expression. “Since our time together is limited, I’m asking you to spend as much of it as possible with me.” He reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, igniting warm tingling up her wrist to the inside of her elbow. “We should explore this thing we’ve got going on.”

  So that was it. They had a “thing.” Well, heck, she’d known they had a thing since the first time they’d kissed.

  That red flag waved again. He wants to have you in his bed every night, not have you move in or get involved or anything. He knows your time is limited. It gives him freedom to do whatever he wants with you…knowing you’ll leave after Christmas.