A Mommy for Christmas

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Travis turned his glance away from the soft, erratic rise and fall of her breasts. Ignoring his instinct—which was to pull her into his arms and hold her close until the hurt she had suffered went away—he continued, “So when he found out you were having twins…”

  Holly made a face. “He wasn’t happy. I mean, he said he was, but…I could see beneath the superficial veneer that he was having second thoughts.”

  Travis worked to contain his disgust. Had he been the father, he would have been shouting his joy to the world, right along with Holly. Instead, she had been made to feel guilty about it. Still, Travis tried to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there had been more on Cliff’s mind than either of them knew. “Did you ask him about it?” he asked casually.

  Pain clouded her eyes. “Nope.”

  Travis studied the golden lights shimmering in her brown hair. “Why not?”

  She slowly let out her breath, then rubbed the smooth surface of her white-painted breakfast table. “We didn’t have that kind of marriage. We didn’t look at the dark corners or the places where the seams were beginning to fray. We just focused on the illusion of perfection.” She lifted her gaze and continued with self-effacing honesty. “And I’m as much at fault as he was in this, I’m an artist who deals in beautiful things and I wanted my fairy-tale life through and through.”

  Travis understood that. He and Diana had done pretty much the same thing, albeit for different reasons. “So how’d you get from there to the end of the road?” he asked Holly gently, glad they had the time and opportunity to finally talk about this.

  Sadness crept into her low tone. “It was a gradual erosion over the course of my entire pregnancy. I kept seeing the doubts Cliff was trying to hide, and kept ignoring them. Focusing instead on trying to create the perfect twins’ nursery…and waiting to learn the sex of the babies, in hopes that the surprise of the moment would make the birth all the more magical.”

  “But it didn’t.”

  She shook her head, disappointment and regret evident in the tortured grimace on her face. “The truth is, nothing would have worked. And you know why?” Her expression became inherently stubborn once again. “Because Cliff and I based our relationship on romantic love. And that’s nothing but an illusion. Illusions can’t last, especially not when confronted with the wear and tear of everyday living and familiarity.”

  “Exactly why Diana insisted the two of us maintain separate bathrooms.” She had wanted to preserve the “mystery.” And although it had worked to a certain degree, it had also failed them, in upholding boundaries that usually were done away with during the course of a long and satisfying marriage. There was an intimacy that came from sharing the same space when you got ready to go to work, or to bed at the same time. He and Diana had never had that. Travis was beginning to see that, as good as his marriage had been, it had also been lacking in ways that would have hurt them over the long haul…

  An awkward silence fell. Finally, Holly cracked a joke. “Maybe if I’d gone that route, I’d still be married.”

  From what she had just related, Travis doubted it. But it did raise an interesting question. “Do you still want to be married?” he asked.

  That, at least, seemed easy enough for her to answer. “No,” she said flatly. “Nor do I ever want to fall in love again or trust that anything will last forever. Not when I know in my heart it just won’t. And I thank my lucky stars that you feel the same way I do,” she added.

  But did he really still feel that way? Travis wondered. Or was he simply agreeing with Holly to keep from alienating her?

  Travis sighed. While he couldn’t deny there was a certain safety in trying to keep things the same, wasn’t a static relationship of any kind doomed to fail?

  He massaged his temples. All this back and forth was giving him a headache.

  All he knew for sure was that Holly and Cliff had not grown and changed in the same ways at the same time, and their marriage had ultimately failed.

  He didn’t want to lose his closeness with Holly for that or any other reason.

  Therefore, the two of them had to stay on the same page—and the page she was on said no romantic love and no marriage.

  “You need to tell your guy friends they’re on the wrong track regarding us,” Holly advised when he finally met her eyes.

  Travis decided that he would ignore all the advice he was getting from well-meaning friends, and focus instead on giving Holly what she felt she needed. “I will.” he promised, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

  Relief showed in her slender frame and a smile lit up her face. “Because you and I have all we need in our relationship to be happy right now. Food, friendship, and one of these days again, when mood and timing equal opportunity—” she wrinkled her nose at him playfully “—sex!”

  Travis stood. Grasping her wrist, he drew her out of her seat and pulled her against him. Her arms wreathed his neck and she went up on tiptoe as he gave her a thorough, demanding kiss that spoke volumes about what he wanted and needed from her.

  Unfortunately, although he felt her desire, he also felt the resistance. He drew back to read her expression. “I guess tonight…?”

  She splayed her fingertips across his chest, and murmured with obvious regret, “As much as I’d really like to continue what we started the other night, I’m not sure I feel comfortable with the kids upstairs.” Her lips twitched. “You know how they talk at preschool. And if even one of our kids were to wake up and find you here…”

  Travis understood where she was going with this. “Who knows what they would say?” He had only to think about the request to Santa, in front of the news crew at their school, to realize what havoc loose talk could bring.

  “We should wait until we have the time and place to do it right,” Holly continued.

  Travis savored the warmth of her slender body pressed against his. “I agree.” He threaded a hand through her hair and gazed into her eyes. “So how about a noontime rendezvous?”

  HOLLY COULDN’T BELIEVE SHE was actually doing this. Taking off work at lunchtime to meet Travis in a room at a posh downtown hotel. But here she was, at eleven forty-five on a Tuesday, freshly changed out of her mural-painting clothing into a pretty black pencil skirt, heels and Pacific-blue silk blouse. A blue-and-black necklace and earrings complemented the outfit. Her best black lace bustier and matching thong lay against her skin, reminding her with every step she took that she was about to become the kind of woman who put sex on her weekly schedule. Not with a husband, but with a friend and lover…and she was okay with that. More than okay, as it turned out.

  Smiling, Holly strode into the hotel and went on up to room 324, where Travis was supposed to be waiting. She knocked once and then knocked again.

  Nothing.

  From behind her, a waiter approached, wheeling a room service cart. “Mrs. Carson?” he asked.

  For a second, Holly had to think. So this was Travis’s room, since the waiter had just mistaken her for his wife. She did her best to suppress a self-conscious blush. “Right. I don’t have a key…and he’s not answering.”

  “That’s okay. The concierge is expecting him to be late arriving. I can get you in.” The busboy used a passkey and wheeled the cart inside the elegant suite. “Your husband sent a message that you can start dining without him, if you wish. He’ll be along shortly.”

  O-kay, Holly thought, wondering if Travis’s late arrival was some sort of sign that all was not going to go smoothly today. She tipped the busboy. He thanked her and left.

  Wondering what was going on, Holly checked her cell phone for messages. Nothing. No calls or texts. Perplexed, she took off her coat, began to pace.

  She didn’t normally wear bustiers or thongs these days, and they felt a little uncomfortable. Imagining Travis’s surprise, she smiled. Moments later, she headed over to the window and checked the bedside phone. No messages there. Back to the room service cart. On it was an expensive bottle of champagne, perfe
ct for celebrating. Under silver domes were an array of fresh fruit, several different types of cheeses and breads, and some decadent desserts.

  Holly popped a delicious grape into her mouth, waited, and then ate some more.

  Eventually, a half hour passed. And then an hour. Until there was no denying it—she had been stood up.

  Chapter Nine

  Holly had just resumed her place in front of the mural she was creating for Grady and Alexis McCabe’s baby-to-be when she heard the front door of their elegant home open. “Good luck, buddy,” she heard Grady say.

  Another voice murmured something back before the door shut. The rumble of a car engine starting signaled that Grady was headed out for his business meeting. So Holly knew she and the interloper were alone when footsteps sounded on the stairs. A second later, Travis stood framed in the nursery doorway.

  Although he was dressed professionally, she had never seen him looking more out of his element. He had a big black stain that resembled motor oil across the middle of his hopelessly wrinkled dress shirt, and his expensive shoes were caked with mud. He smelled of man and sweat. And still looked determined to have his way with her.

  “No,” Holly said. A thousand times no. There was no way she was giving him another chance to crush her hopes.

  Travis lifted his hand in the age-old gesture of peace. “At least hear me out.”

  Holly shot him a drop-dead look. “Why should I after the way you humiliated me?”

  He moved to stand where she couldn’t help but see him, and lifted a brow as if the outcome of this brouhaha was already decided. “Because you know me well enough by now to realize that I have never stood you up before, and I sure as heck would not have picked today to start if the situation had been at all within my control.”

  The truth of his words slowly melted her resistance. She sighed, her anger and resentment turning to exasperation and regret. “What happened?”

  He shook his head in mute condemnation and braced himself against the wall opposite the one she was painting. “The day started off fine. I made arrangements with the hotel. Rearranged my schedule to make sure I could get over there in plenty of time, and went to my first meeting of the day.” He continued in a voice simmering with frustration. “Halfway through that, I get a call from Grady that the fund-raising committee for the new opera hall has decided they want to meet with all the groups vying for participation in the project. Our archrival, the Midtowne Development Group, already met with them and apparently wowed them while at the same time denigrating us—and they wanted to meet with us right away at the Cattleman’s Club.”

  Holly had always known Travis was competitive, but prior to this, his drive to succeed had never gotten in the way of their friendship. And the stakes had never been this high for the two of them before. For the first time, she had an inkling of what a woman in his life might face, given the fact that if there was a competition, he had to emerge the winner. Deciding she needed to know more before she decided whether to let him off the hook, she said, “When you say ‘us’ you mean…?”

  Travis stepped closer, his tall, strong body exuding so much heat he could have started a bonfire all on his own. “The usual group. Grady, Jack, Nate, Dan and me. Anyway,” he continued, “they asked us to all swing by the Cattleman’s Club for coffee at 10:00 a.m.” He kept his eyes locked on hers. “I could have bowed out or sent someone in my stead, but I know those guys and their wives, and if an underling shows up, you’re out of the running. They only want to meet with the top dogs.”

  “Go on,” Holly urged impatiently, after he paused for an excruciatingly long moment.

  He exhaled and continued in a flat, businesslike tone. “So I tell Grady okay, but I’ve got a lunch at twelve-thirty with you and I want to be out of there by eleven-thirty at the very latest. So if that means we wrangle them for a private dinner or something later, then that’s what we’ll do. Everyone agrees….” He cleared his throat. “We go over there and find out just how competitive it is going to be to win this thing. But okay, we’re up for it. We give our collective pitch. They seem equally impressed with our group, especially the work we’re doing at One Trinity Place, keeping the quality high and the budget in place.”

  “Sounds like you had a promising meeting,” Holly said generously. “So, to make a long story short, did you just lose track of time?”

  “Not exactly…” He winced. “So we start to leave and it’s now eleven forty-five, and I’m in a hurry and trying not to act like it. Just as I’m about the make my big escape, I get waylaid by a couple of wives. They’ve all seen the local news story about the mommy that Mia and Sophie want Santa to bring us…and they think it’s so cute.”

  Uh-oh, Holly thought.

  “And their hearts all go out to me and the girls, and now they want me to participate in this silent auction they’re having at the Kimball Museum Saturday night.”

  That didn’t sound so bad so far, Holly thought, wary of any further attempts to find Travis a “wife” in time for the holiday.

  Travis sighed warily. “All the proceeds are going for Christmas at the Baptist Children’s Home, so I say sure.”

  Which made sense, Holly thought. Travis was a very generous guy.

  “They want to give me details, but I say I don’t have time—just call my office with them and I’ll be happy to help. This seems to satisfy them, so I run out to my SUV. Hop in. Realize I’ve misplaced my cell phone. Go back in the club. It’s not there.” He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “So I start heading over to the hotel and get caught in traffic. I think I moved ten feet in forty-five minutes. It took me another forty-five to get over to the right lane so I could ditch my SUV in a no parking zone, just down the block from the ongoing street repairs. I hop a couple barriers—”

  Which explained the black grease smudges on his shirt, Holly mused.

  “—and run the rest of the way to the hotel, where according to the maid who was cleaning down the hall, I just missed you. So I hoof it back to my SUV. Only to find it has already been ticketed and towed to an impound lot. Where it still sits.”

  Holly told herself this was not some sort of sign from the universe that she had, once again, started down the wrong path and needed to do an immediate U-turn before she and Travis and their kids got really hurt. It was, instead, a shining example of Murphy’s Law: Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. Which meant they should have been braced for at least one calamity, if not all of them, given how much they’d both had riding on this.

  “And your cell phone?” Holly questioned.

  Travis grimaced. “I’ve got no idea where my Black-Berry is. Fortunately, there was a pay phone on the corner. I called Grady. He took pity on me, came and picked me up and brought me here.”

  Travis got points for showing up—eventually. But more were deducted for the information transfer to one of his very best male friends. Horrified, Holly flung her hand against her chest. “So Grady knows we were going to…” She blushed furiously.

  Travis’s scowl deepened at the inference. “He knows we were going to meet for lunch,” he corrected. He gave her an irked look that let her know he would always protect her, and she should have known that without him saying so.

  “And that I felt really bad about standing you up. So…” Travis let his smoldering gaze rove over her casually upswept hair and scalding cheeks before returning ever so slowly to her eyes. “Can I have a rain check?”

  Holly paused, achingly aware of how much she wanted to say yes. Instead, her guard still up, she queried tersely, “When?”

  Travis flashed her a mischievous grin, the picture of masculine relief. “Now,” he said.

  THE QUICK ACQUIESCENCE Travis had been hoping for did not materialize. Instead, Holly picked up her palette, dipped the tip of her paintbrush into the array of pinks, and went back to painting a delicate spray of flowers on the wall. “I can’t, Travis. I’ve got to make up for the time I lost today.”

  He
knew she usually worked through most of her lunch hour, as did he, in order to get home a little earlier in the evening, so she could spend more time with her twins before bed. However, that didn’t mean they couldn’t figure out some way to be together, particularly given how much they had both been looking forward to their tryst.

  “This evening, then, after the twins are asleep,” Travis persisted. He’d call Mrs. Ruley, or one of the other sitters they employed in emergencies.

  Holly shot him a long-suffering glance. “We have the preschool holiday music program to attend.”

  “Oh. Right.” Travis mentally berated himself for temporarily losing track of that. It made it sound as if he didn’t care about the kids, and he did. “After then?” he continued with a pleading look. They still had the suite. He could have more room service sent up. It could still be a helluva romantic evening, if she would just give them a chance to follow through on their original plans to be together.

  Holly’s spine remained stiff. “I appreciate the thought.” She switched to green, carefully stroking in a stem and leaves. “But we have to be honest with ourselves. This sneaking around in the middle of the day, trying to catch a little nooky, just isn’t me. It’s not you, either.”

  Put that crassly, an insulted Travis thought, it sure wasn’t. But then maybe that was the point of her sarcasm. Maybe she was trying to talk them both out of it. But her plan wasn’t working on him. He had not changed his mind in the least. He still wanted to be with her, more than anything. It was up to him to persuade her that was the right course to take.

  Travis placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look up at him. “Look, I know it was a disaster.” He followed the curve of her shoulders, loving the soft womanly way she felt, hating the misery in her eyes. “But the next time will run smoothly. And even if it doesn’t, you and I have four young children between us. We’re used to improvising!”