A Mommy for Christmas

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “Are you cooking biscuits or muffins?” Holly murmured, noting the specks of blueberries poking through the pale, rubbery looking dough.

  “Muffins!” Travis said in frustration. “The girls wanted them, and we didn’t have any boxed mix. But we had blueberries, so I got out the cookbook and decided to make ’em from scratch.”

  Holly checked out the recipe, which looked fine. She looked at the ingredients spread out on the counter, spotting a familiar yellow box, but no can. “Did you use baking soda or baking powder?” she asked.

  Travis hesitated.

  Realizing how rarely he looked uncertain about anything, she smiled.

  “There’s a difference?” he asked.

  Oh, yeah. Holly moved closer and kept her voice low as she instructed, “Show me what you used.”

  He handed her the baking soda.

  She peered into his cupboards, which were as familiar as her own, and pulled out a small red can. “This is baking powder. This is the leavening agent you put in cakes and muffins to make them rise.”

  “Oh.” He went to back to check the muffins, which were looking sicker and paler and more rubbery by the moment. “So now what?” He scowled, considering, then turned back to face her, his arm nudging hers in the process.

  Warmth filtered through her at the brief, accidental contact.

  While she savored the sensation, Travis concentrated on the mistake he had made and the dilemma at hand. “Do you think it would help if we sprinkled some baking powder on top of the muffins or stirred some in?”

  Holly shook her head, sorry to deliver the bad news. “Not at this point in the baking process.”

  “Daddy, we’re hungry!” Sophie declared.

  “Are the muffins ready?” Mia asked, looking hopeful, hungry and excited all at the same time. “Tucker and Tristan want some muffins, too!”

  He shrugged. “Well…?”

  Holly took the oven mitt from him, reached past him, hit the off button on the control panel and took the muffin pan from the oven. “Get your shoes on, kids!” she instructed.

  Travis read her mind and went to get jackets for all. “We’re going out for breakfast today!” he announced cheerfully.

  FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Holly and Travis were seated at a hard plastic table, enjoying their premium coffees and apple Danish pastries, while the kids—who had downed their own breakfasts in record time—climbed on the indoor playground. “You see, for every culinary disaster there’s a silver lining,” Holly teased.

  Travis exhaled in frustration, still a little embarrassed by the mistake that had brought them here. He shook his head wryly. “I really thought I had it this time.”

  She reached over and gave him a friendly pat on the arm. “You almost did,” she told him with a smile.

  Travis shot her a level look. “If I built buildings the way I follow recipes,” he acknowledged dryly, “I’d be in big trouble.”

  Holly held up a slender hand, cutting off his self-deprecating remarks. “You’re a very capable man.” She paused and wrinkled her nose at him playfully. “You just can’t cook anything that doesn’t come out of a box or a jar or a plastic bag.”

  Travis waved at the kids, who were peeking through a mesh safety barrier at them, then turned back to Holly. “You do it with aplomb. So do a lot of other single parents—men included. My friend Jack, for instance, is an excellent cook. Jack’s daughter loves his cooking, the more gourmet the better.”

  Holly’s eyes sparkled as she met his gaze. She leveled him with a look of her own. “First of all, it’s not a competition, between you or me and you and Jack or anyone else, okay? You parent in your own way, just as I do, and furthermore—” a self-conscious pink crept into her cheeks “—you’re a fantastic dad.”

  Looking at her determined expression, Travis could believe it. Still, he didn’t like falling short in any category, and that went double when it came to anything pertaining to his kids. “Maybe I should take some cooking lessons,” he murmured.

  “You really want to do that?” Holly looked surprised.

  A little irked that in some ways she knew so little about him, and what made him tick, Travis tapped the center of his chest and countered, “What? Are you worried I’ll flunk out of the class or something?”

  “No. Of course not. I just didn’t think you’d have time for something like that right now, with the holidays and the Trinity River Place project. And isn’t there something else you fellows are bidding on?”

  Travis nodded. “A steering committee was just formed by some of the city’s leading philanthropists. They want to build a new opera hall if the funds can be raised, and we want to be ready if the project comes to fruition.” He paused. “And speaking of business, what’s on your schedule for the next two weeks, now that you’ve finished the restaurant mural?”

  “Next week I’m doing murals for three exam rooms in a new pediatrician’s office. And a nursery mural for Grady and Alexis’s new baby after that, although I’m still waiting for Alexis to okay the design. We’re supposed to meet at her office next week.”

  “You sound busy, too.”

  Seemingly as reluctant to break up the cozy tête-à-tête as he was, Holly glanced at her watch. “Which is why we better get a move on if we want to get both our Christmas trees up and decorated today.”

  SIX HOURS LATER, THE trees were up and twinkling in both their family rooms. Dinner and dishes were over. It was breaking up the four kids that was proving to be the problem.

  “I don’t want to go back to our house, Daddy,” Sophie said with a pout.

  “Me, either.” Mia stamped her foot. “I want to stay here with Tucker and Tristan and Holly.”

  “You all need baths and pajamas,” Holly decreed.

  “Why can’t they take their baths here?” Tucker asked.

  “Yeah, they’ve done it before, plenty of times,” Tristan argued.

  Holly looked at Travis. He, too, seemed to be wondering if this was a battle worth fighting. Suddenly, wordlessly, they were in agreement. “Okay,” he told the four kids. “You all can have your baths here, but they’re going to be quick ones tonight.”

  “And then we get to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas together like you promised!” Sophie reminded him.

  They had promised, Holly recalled. Hours ago. When they’d had no idea how long it would actually take to do all they had done.

  Travis lifted his hands in surrender. A promise was a promise….

  “Okay.” Holly relented, too. She and Travis exchanged empathetic looks before she continued. “And then everyone is going to go to sleep in their own beds.”

  “Are we going to get new Christmas pajamas this year?” Tucker asked, once all four kids were back downstairs again, getting settled on the sectional sofa.

  “Yeah, ones that match!” Tristan said.

  “Of course,” Holly replied. That was one wish that was easily granted.

  Travis looked at her with a question in his dark eyes. “It’s a family tradition,” she explained. “The kids get new pajamas on Christmas Eve and wear them to open their presents Christmas morning.”

  “Well, we want to do that, too,” Mia said.

  “Yeah, and we want ours to look just like Tucker’s and Tristan’s,” Sophie added.

  Holly had no earthly idea what to say to that. For one thing, boys’ and girls’ pajamas were usually quite different in color and style. And Travis’s daughters favored pink!

  “Can we?” all four kids said at once. “Please…can we?”

  Yet again, Holly looked at Travis. And once more, he took the lead. “Sure,” he said, turning on the TV. The video started, and all four kids fell silent.

  “DO YOU EVER THINK our families are a little too integrated?” Holly asked, when the two of them had retired to the kitchen.

  Travis watched her spoon fragrant decaf French roast coffee into a paper filter. Like their kids, he found himself wishing the evening would never end.

 
; Aware that Holly had paused, waiting for an answer, he said adamantly, “No. I don’t think our lives are too enmeshed.” In fact, there were nights—long, lonely evenings like the night before, when they each did their own thing with their own kids—when he wished they were more entwined.

  Holly set the coffee on to brew, then turned around. She lounged against the edge of the granite counter, her hands braced on either side of her, and searched his face. “You never wonder what will happen if one of us moves away?”

  Travis moved so they were a foot apart, and his arms folded in front of him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He thought of Cliff’s sudden reappearance in her and the twins’ lives. Uncertainty made him tense. “Are you?”

  Her expression said that was a ridiculous question. “Well, no…”

  Travis shrugged and held his ground. “Then it isn’t an issue,” he said flatly, wondering when things had gotten so personal between the two of them.

  A pulse throbbed in Holly’s throat. “It could be if you started dating someone.”

  “I’m not interested in remarrying. You know that.” Or at least, Travis amended silently, he hadn’t been until he’d kissed her. That had opened up such a realm of possibilities he no longer knew what the future held. Except for one thing. The woman next door. His best friend. “Are you?” he persisted.

  “No,” Holly answered, just as quickly and resolutely. Her soft lips compressed stubbornly. “I decided long ago that’s not in the cards for me, either.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Travis asked softly, wondering what suddenly had her so on edge.

  Holly winced and rubbed her temples. “I don’t know.”

  Travis was pretty sure she did know—but didn’t feel comfortable sharing all her concerns with him.

  Looking as if she wished the conversation had never started, Holly shrugged off her melancholy mood and moved away from him toward the family room, where the TV was flickering. Her tender smile turned into a quiet laugh and a shake of her head. She put a finger to her lips, then motioned for him to join her.

  He walked over. From where they stood, they could see over the top of the sectional sofa. The video had barely gotten started, but all four kids were sound asleep, lying snuggled up to each other like a pile of snoozing puppies.

  Travis chuckled, too. “I’ll have to carry them home and put them to bed,” he said.

  Holly tipped her face up to his. Once again, she looked so content. His heart filled with admiration and something else—something sweet and satisfying—he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to identify.

  She propped her hands on her hips, obviously as reluctant to spend another Saturday night alone as he was. “Want to have a cup of decaf first?”

  He liked the spark coming back into her aquamarine eyes, the generous, easygoing attitude she exhibited whenever they hung out together. A wave of tenderness swept through him, as potent as it was unexpected. “Sure.”

  She fell into step beside him as they moved toward the kitchen, both of them reveling in the peace and quiet after a very noisy, tumultuous, busy day. She reached the coffeemaker, then paused to look into his eyes. “By the way, thank you for everything. It was a great day,” she told him softly. “A really great day.”

  Happiness warmed his soul. “I thought so, too,” he admitted. And it could be even better if they said to heck with what had been till now, and followed their instincts.

  Holly started to speak. Travis didn’t know what she was about to say—all he knew for sure was that it was going to have to wait.

  HOLLY SAW THE KISS coming and knew she could have stopped it. All she had to do was put a hand to his chest, keeping distance between them, or turn her head and step back. She did none of those things. Instead, for once in her life, she followed her deepest impulses, which led her straight into Travis’s arms.

  When his mouth descended, she wreathed her arms about his neck and went up on tiptoe to meet his lips. Before she knew it, she was lost in a storm of heat and need, tenderness and yearning. He caught her upper lip between the two of his, rubbing it softly, then did the same to her lower lip. Holly responded. Together, they found all the ways their lips could fit together, torment and caress. Until that wasn’t enough, and his tongue slipped inside her mouth, to stroke and play with hers. Warmth swept through her; tingles centered in her middle and spread outward. Lower still, she felt the pressure of his need against her. And the desire welling up inside her, unchecked.

  “I thought we weren’t going to do this,” she reminded him, trembling.

  “So did I.” He smiled down at her with lazy familiarity. “We thought wrong.”

  Travis wrapped his arms around her again, hauled her close and kissed her once more, really kissed her. And this time, when the embrace finally ended, Holly didn’t want to list all the reasons why they shouldn’t be giving in to recklessness and pure, unadulterated physical need.

  It was Christmas.

  This was a gift.

  They really didn’t need to know more.

  Except…

  A self-conscious flush moved from her neck to her cheeks. “I want you to promise me that if we go down this road, embark on something…casual…that fits our situation…we’ll just go with it, without worrying about all the implications.”

  His eyes turned serious and he shifted her closer once again. “Sounds good.”

  Panicking a little at the fierceness of her emotions, she pushed him away, drew in a shuddering breath. “But if for some reason it doesn’t work out…” Acutely aware how much was on the line here, she gripped the hard muscles of his biceps urgently. “I can’t lose you.” Her voice caught. “I can’t lose all this…and if our going down this path brings up even the possibility of that…then I can’t.”

  Nor could he.

  Travis held her eyes with his. Sifting his hands through her hair, he vowed, “Nothing will come between us—I promise you that.”

  Chapter Four

  A blue norther roared in overnight, whipping up the wind and dropping the temperature twenty degrees in a matter of hours.

  The abrupt change in weather mirrored Holly’s mood. She’d gone to bed still feeling the glow of Travis’s kisses, and their decision to let whatever happened along those lines happen.

  She had awakened wondering if she’d made the right decision, after all. She had never been the kind of person who acted impulsively or had a fling, never had sex with a friend. So her inclination to do so now was disconcerting, to say the least.

  She knew the decision to add passion to the platonic friendship she and Travis shared felt “right” at the moment. Especially since neither of them was interested in dating or remarrying. But how would it feel in two days, two months or two years? She couldn’t help but wonder. Would they one day regret this? Want more? Less? If they eventually had to backtrack, would doing so hurt their friendship, or make their relationship so awkward they would never feel the same in each other’s presence? If so, how would they explain that to the kids?

  She was still wrestling with her ambivalence when her phone rang early Sunday afternoon.

  “I need to go to the pharmacy to pick up some prescription allergy medicine the pediatrician called in for Sophie,” Travis told her over the phone, sounding so harried her heart went out to him. “I was going to take the girls with me, but I don’t think that’s an option.”

  In other words, Holly thought, it was Meltdown City over there.

  “Any chance you might be able to come over for fifteen minutes and spot me?”

  Glad to be able to help lighten his load the way he often had hers, she said, “Sure. Let me round up the boys and I’ll be right there.”

  Tucker and Tristan were delighted by the chance to see “their best friends in the whole wide world.” They promptly got into their jackets and raced across the frigid yards to get to Travis’s front door, where they punched the doorbell with childish vigor.

  Holly winced, imagining what that soun
ded like inside. “I think that’s enough, boys.”

  Travis opened the door with an amused grin. Three-year-old Mia had hold of one of his legs. Tinsel decorated her blond curls. She peeked around to greet the boys, squinting her eyes and wrinkling her nose. They did the same back, then all three burst into riotous giggles and raced off.

  “I’m coloring!” Mia shouted over her shoulder, as the tinsel she’d been wearing as a crown went every which way. “Want to color, too?”

  “Sure!” the twins enthused in unison.

  Travis stepped back to let Holly pass, and bent to pick up a few errant strands of silver. “Come on in.”

  She grabbed a couple strands, too, and handed them over to him, to be returned to the tree. “Where’s Sophie?” It was unusual for the four-year-old, self-proclaimed leader of the Baxter-Carson posse not to appear at the door, too.

  Abruptly, the light went out of his eyes. Travis pressed his lips together in parental concern. “On the sofa in the family room,” he said quietly.

  Knowing something was up, Holly stopped midstride and curved a hand around Travis’s biceps to halt his progress. That was all it took to remind her of the kisses they’d shared, and her reaction to them. Forcing herself to ignore the jolt of attraction zipping through her, she concentrated on the problem at hand.

  Her back to the breakfast room table, where the three younger kids were madly coloring, laughing and talking all at once, she asked with the bluntness of a close and trusted friend, “What’s going on? I mean, aside from the fact Sophie’s under the weather?”

  Travis held Holly’s glance, seeming relieved that she was there. “I’m not sure what’s going on with Sophie. She’s been cranky and glum all day. Part of it is her allergies—I know she’s not feeling good.” He frowned in concern. “But there’s something more bothering her, too.”

  It was frequently easier, Holly knew, for children to unburden themselves to someone other than a parent, whom they were often trying to protect. “Want me to see if I can figure out what it is?”