A Mommy for Christmas

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “See?” Travis polished off the last of the cookie. He reached into the fridge and brought out a bag of premade salad mix and a jar of applesauce. “Problem already solved.”

  Holly’s maternal intuition told her it was not going to be that simple. She took the opposite tack, in an effort to be prepared for any eventuality. “And if it’s not?” She reached for the bottle of olive oil and vinegar on the counter, added salt and pepper to the group. “If despite all the ways and times we’ve tried to reason with them, and they’re still expecting to have a complete family on Christmas Day? What then?” Do we just let them be terribly disappointed?

  Travis handed her a mixing bowl and whisk. “Then we move on to plan B.”

  Trying not to think about the way he looked at her—as if she were suddenly the most fascinating woman on the planet—Holly began putting together a simple dressing for the salad. “And what might that be?” she bantered back.

  Pleasure teased the corners of his lips. “We make arrangements to give them what they want most—at least for Christmas morning.”

  She really shouldn’t be enjoying these interactions with him quite so much. Never mind anticipating more! She watched as he poured salad mix into a wooden bowl. “And how do we do that?” she asked, forcing herself to sound casual.

  He set the bowl down next to where she was working and leveled a glance her way. “By joining forces and spending Christmas together.”

  The image of all of them gathered around the Christmas tree was unbearably exciting. Especially since, prior to this, they’d spent the holidays separately. Holly whisked in the seasoning, then poured dressing over the salad. She slanted him a sideways glance. “So we’d be one big happy family?” Just like the kids wanted…and her, too, if she was honest.

  Travis shrugged and folded his arms in front of his chest. “I can’t think of a better way to make the children’s wishes come true, at least for the holiday. Can you?”

  TRAVIS HAD THOUGHT—OR maybe just hoped—that Holly would jump at the idea of spending Christmas Day together. Instead, she looked as if he had just offered to give her a tetanus shot she didn’t really need. Finally, she forced a smile. “It sounds like a good idea.”

  “It is,” he said confidently. “So why are you hesitating?”

  She raked her teeth across her lower lip. “You and I are starting to depend on each other an awful lot, Travis.”

  She made it sound like a negative. And maybe, given her need to maintain her independence and never again let her happiness depend on anyone but herself, it was.

  But he wasn’t just any guy.

  He wasn’t unreliable.

  Travis clamped his hands on her shoulders. The move forced her to look him in the eye. “That’s more or less the way it’s always been for us, hasn’t it? I borrow a cup of sugar from you. You call me when the kitchen sink needs unclogging.”

  She stepped back, as if suddenly afraid to be close to him. “This is different,” she said quietly.

  He could tell he’d touched a nerve. “In what way?”

  Her aquamarine eyes took on a troubled sheen. “In the way that is great as long as neither of us is in another relationship, but would be a definite detriment to either of us becoming successfully involved with anyone else.”

  Travis took the casserole dish out of the oven to cool. “I don’t want to start dating again at this point.” Maybe never. Especially if it meant giving up all he shared with Holly. “You know that.” Marriage—for either of them—was a very long way down the road.

  Holly dressed the salad with single-minded focus. “You could change your mind. Especially now that you and I have started…um…”

  He guessed where this was going. “Making love?”

  She nodded, pink creeping into her cheeks.

  As if now that their self-imposed sexual droughts had ended, the floodgates would open, and they’d become so randy they’d lose all common sense. He surveyed her bluntly, figuring it best to get it all out in the open. “Are you saying you want to date other people?”

  “No.” The flush in her cheeks deepening, she carried the salad bowl to the breakfast room table. “Heavens no!”

  It had to be said. “Cliff then?”

  She gave him a startled look, her eyes seeming to hold more secrets than before. “A hundred times no!”

  Jealousy roiled in his gut. “Sure about that?” She had never really talked about her previous marriage except to say it was over. Travis understood and accepted that, because he had no desire to talk about his late wife. Now, with Cliff about to make another appearance, maybe it was time they delved a little deeper. She seemed to think so, too, because she said, “I don’t want to be dependent again on anyone who might leave.”

  Travis watched her come toward him once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Holly stopped just short of him. She slanted her head, as if looking at him from that angle would give her a better understanding of what was going on inside him. Silky hair fell across her shoulder, onto her breast. The corners of her lips quirked. “You know what I mean,” she chided softly.

  And she had to know what he meant, Travis thought, taking a step closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated, even more quietly. And then to prove it, he took her into his arms and kissed her soundly. Kissed her until her resistance faded and she was pressed against him in sweet surrender, returning each passionate caress.

  And it was then that Travis became aware of patting and tugging on his leg. He broke off the kiss, looked down. Tristan, Tucker, Sophie and Mia were surrounding them. Cherubic faces tilted upward. “Whatcha doing?” Tristan asked.

  Her lips still damp from his kisses, Holly blushed bright red. “We were, um…”

  “Just testing out the mistletoe,” Travis improvised quickly.

  The kids looked around. “Mistle—what?”

  Holly rolled her eyes, a response only he could see. Determined to protect their privacy, and the blossoming feelings between them, Travis continued his explanation with poker-faced authority. “We haven’t hung it yet. We’re just trying to figure out where it should go, when we get some.”

  All four kids studied him, with varying degrees of suspicion. “What’s mistletoe?” Sophie asked.

  “It’s a little green plant that grown-ups hang at Christmas time as an excuse for kissing people. Although,” Travis continued, dropping down to the children’s height, “little ones who stand under it get more than kisses,” he reported solemnly.

  Tiny brows knit in confusion.

  “What do they get?” Mia asked at last.

  “Tickled!” Travis shouted.

  The kids screamed in delight, sensing what was coming, and then spread outward, scrambling to begin the game of chase.

  “It’s the Tickle Monster!” they yelled as Travis dashed after them, and the Q and A session came to an abrupt end.

  Holly laughed and shook her head. “Boy, did you luck out,” she called after him.

  Travis grinned. Didn’t he know it.

  Chapter Eight

  Travis met the guys on Monday evening to transport all the items donated by their employees to the Salvation Army collection center, for distribution over the holidays. Travis supplied the big construction truck. Volunteer employees from their businesses showed up to help load and unload. By nine o’clock, they were finished, so the five of them went to their favorite sports bar to watch the rest of the Cowboys football game.

  Between plays, Travis told them about the latest turn in his little girls’ efforts to find themselves a mommy in time for Christmas, and his proposed solution to the dilemma.

  Like Holly, his pals seemed to have deep reservations about his idea.

  The four guys exchanged looks. A raised brow or two was added to the mix.

  Wordlessly, Nate helped himself to the chicken wings in the center of the table. He drizzled on a little shower of blue cheese dressing, to cool the heat. “What was Holly’s answer?” he ask
ed finally.

  That was just it, Travis thought in frustration. “She hasn’t given me one.”

  “Did she say why?” Jack wondered.

  This was the part that really stung. “She thinks we’re starting to rely on each other too much.”

  “And you don’t agree.” Grady commandeered the plate of nachos, dripping with cheese, beans and jalapeños. He added sour cream, pico de gallo and guacamole to the serving he heaped on his plate.

  Travis sipped his beer and forked up a bite of southwestern eggroll, stuffed with grilled chicken, black beans, cheese and chilis. “I think things are great between us.” Especially, he amended silently, now that they had started making love. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed the physical closeness until he held Holly in his arms. Now that he knew, wondering when they would have the chance to be together again was all he could think about….

  “Why don’t you just put yourself out of your misery and tell her how you feel?” Dan suggested.

  “We can all see you’ve got a thing for her,” Jack said.

  How many times was he going to have to repeat this? Travis wondered. “We’re friends.”

  Another round of “looks” passed around the table. A roar went up as the Cowboys scored, taking the lead. Travis and his friends added to the hooting and hollering, much to the dismay of the Saints fans in the bar. Then Grady cleared his throat. “Let me ask you this. How would you feel if Holly started dating someone else?”

  That was easy, Travis thought. He’d feel terrible. Out loud, he had a much cooler response. “Depends on who it was,” he said with an offhand shrug.

  Skeptical glances abounded. “If she went back with her ex-husband, now that he’s prowling around?” Grady pressed.

  “Even worse,” Travis said, able to be completely honest this time. “Given how Cliff treated her before.”

  Dan smiled. “How would she feel if you started dating someone else?”

  Ah. The fifty-million-dollar question. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I suppose she would have to give her approval, in the way that close friends and family do, just as I’d have to give my approval to her, if she ever wanted to go down that road.”

  A groan went round the table that had nothing to do with the Cowboys interception and subsequent fumble on the fifty yard line. “I hate to tell you this, friend—” Dan slapped Travis on the shoulder “—but you are in love with that woman.”

  He scowled, disagreeing. “I love her like a…”

  “Like a what?” Nate asked impatiently.

  Travis tried to say “friend.” For the first time, the word wouldn’t come out. “I’m not denying we’re close. Or that I love her the way you love anyone you spend a lot of time with. But as for being in love with her…” Guilt and confusion warred inside him. He struggled to explain. “What I feel for Holly doesn’t begin to compare with what I felt for Diana.”

  The expressions on his friend’s faces grew compassionate. They waited while, with difficulty, Travis expounded, “Romantic love involves a lot of highs and lows.” He swallowed, thinking about some of the fights he’d had with Diana, the way he’d always had to be careful what he said or did, so as not to set her off, and be relegated to sleeping on the sofa again. “It’s never been like that with Holly. With her, it’s always been so easy.”

  “In what sense?” Nate, the bachelor asked.

  Travis shrugged. “I can tell her anything.”

  “And with Diana?” Grady probed.

  “She wanted a knight in shining armor. I tried to give her that.”

  “So you never told her about the worries you had during the lean years, when you were expanding the family business to what it is today,” Jack figured.

  With good reason, Travis thought, helping himself to another chicken wing. “Diana wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night.”

  “And Holly?” Nate polished off the nachos.

  Travis reflected. “She’s obviously tough enough to take pretty much anything, as has been evidenced by the way she’s handling her ex-husband’s attempted reentry into her life.”

  “How’s that situation going, by the way?” Grady asked.

  Travis brought them all up to date, feeling proud of the way that had worked out. “So even there, I was able to tell Holly what I’d done, and she was cool with it. She didn’t hold my meddling in her private affairs against me.”

  “Which again says something,” Dan observed.

  Travis lifted a questioning brow.

  “She loves you,” Dan stated.

  “And how do you know that?” he demanded.

  “Because,” Nate said sagely, reaching for the last of the wings, “she never would have tolerated such interference from ‘just a friend.’”

  The guys couldn’t be right about that, Travis thought, as he drove home an hour later.

  Because it was a school night, and Mrs. Ruley had already worked an entire day, Holly had agreed to keep the kids for him. She’d put them to bed in the twins’ room. The plan was he would collect them before breakfast the next morning and see them off to preschool.

  He often did the same for her, if she was working late for a client, trying to finish a mural.

  Tonight, instead of going home to his empty house, right to sleep, he wanted to talk with Holly. The fact that her studio lights were on had him picking up his cell phone to text her.

  Still up? he wrote.

  She texted back. Yes. Have something to show you. Now okay?

  Now, Travis thought, was great.

  HOLLY WENT DOWNSTAIRS TO open the door, sketch pad in hand. Thinking nothing of the tank top and loose, flowing knit pajamas she wore, or the cardigan thrown over top of them for warmth, she padded in her sock-clad feet down the stairs to let Travis in.

  He looked as handsome as ever, with his cheeks ruddy from the cold night air, his hair windblown, his eyes intent and oh, so dark and sexy. The collar of his suede jacket was turned up against the strong column of his throat. Behind him, the night was lit by the twinkling multicolored Christmas lights throughout the neighborhood. If Holly hadn’t known she was imagining it, she would have sworn she heard Christmas bells ringing.

  “I’m so glad you came by!” she said, excited by the work she had done on behalf of their kids. “I know we were talking about a simpler approach, but I was thinking it might be nice to paint on a fancy control panel in the twins’ backyard spaceship, and do a ‘room background’ mural in the interior of the playhouse.”

  She showed him the sketches.

  The approval in his expression warmed her through and through, and told her he thought she was onto something, too, turning up the volume a notch.

  “All I’ll need is about six hours, once the rest of the basic painting is done, and I selected the colors for that, too.” She turned a page of her sketchbook and showed him her choices.

  “Nice,” Travis said.

  “So you think we have time to get this all done in the next ten days?”

  He nodded. “I can have the base colors on both applied tomorrow. Just let me know what evening you want to do the mural artistry. I’ll line up Mrs. Ruley to sit for us, and go with you. The regular cabinetmakers and warehouse crew go home at six, so any time after that is fine.”

  Holly consulted the calendar she kept on her phone. “Wednesday okay?”

  “Works for me,” he agreed.

  “I was just about to have milk and cookies,” she told him, tempting him with a playful waggle of her brows. “Want some?”

  “Always.” Travis shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat rack in her foyer, the way he had hundreds of times before.

  And yet, as Holly led the way back to her cozy kitchen, the casual action felt different tonight, more intimate. Maybe because they had made love. And were contemplating doing it again, when the time and mood were right. But for tonight, cookies and milk would have to satisfy their craving. “So how was your evening with the guys?” she asked c
heerfully.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Travis said. He settled on a stool at the island, while she got out a silver cookie tin, jug of milk and two glasses.

  She rounded the island, settled on the stool next to him and pried open the lid. The aroma of confectioner’s sugar, butter and pecans wafted up to tickle their noses. “Mexican wedding cookies!” he stated.

  “I know. And they’re to die for.” Prefering to concentrate on the treat, rather than the other possibilities lingering in the back of her mind, she lifted one to his lips.

  He took a bite. “Delicious.”

  She grinned and touched the tip of her index finger to the corner of his mouth, wiping away a dab of powdered sugar. Then she sat back, secretly thrilled to have him there with her. “I’m listening,” she said.

  Shifting in his seat, Travis said, “They all think I’m love in with you.”

  TRAVIS’S WORDS AFFECTED HOLLY the way he expected they would. She paused, cookie halfway to her mouth. “What?”

  “I know.” He was relieved she felt the same way. He sat back, trying to ease the pressure at the front of his jeans. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

  “Totally!” Holly agreed with a deliberate shake of her head, her golden-brown hair cascading over her shoulders. “What we have is so much more than that!”

  More? Than romantic love? Suddenly confused, Travis asked, “Isn’t that supposed to be the epitome of what women want?”

  Holly sipped her milk. “Not me,” she said firmly. “I had romantic love with Cliff. The perfect courtship. Wonderful wedding. Happiness personified for the first five years of our marriage.”

  These were the kind of details he had been searching for. “And then what happened?” Travis asked, wanting to make sure that whatever mistakes Cliff had made would not be repeated by him.

  Abruptly, some of the light left her eyes. She looked sad and tense. “He wanted to have a baby.”

  Travis studied her anguished expression. “Cliff?”

  She shrugged, looking even more uncomfortable. “I know. Ironic, isn’t it? But yes, he was the one who first brought it up. He thought with our careers flourishing, that it was time to have one child. Not two. One.”