by Judith Yates
“I hope this storm didn’t pose problems for your mother-in-law.”
“My mother-in-law? Didn’t bother her at all,” he said with a shrug.
“She must be coming along fine, then.” She stepped back from the tree to view her progress.
“Coming along?”
“From last week—when you didn’t come to work.”
“Are you talking about last Saturday night?” Bud looked at her, puzzled. “Bernadette told me to take the night off with pay. I’m not sure why—it wasn’t necessary.”
This sounded odd. Had she somehow misunderstood Bernadette’s explanation? “Didn’t you have a family emergency that night?”
Before Bud could reply, however, Willy and Jenny came bounding into the room, calling to Amy with delight. Bridget and George followed right behind, greeting her with hugs and thank-yous for her help with Safety Santa. Bud called the kids to the bar for a soda and poured their father a beer, while Bridget helped Amy finish the tree.
“Maura is already up at the cottage, getting the food ready, and Mom’s giving final instructions to the staff. They’re on their own tonight,” Bridget explained as she tossed silver tinsel onto the branches. “And Mom says to tell you Paul is on his way.”
“No, Mommy. Paul’s there!” Willy squealed, pointing to the door while spinning on the bar stool.
Amy’s gaze flew to the Pub Room’s entrance. Paul’s eyes met hers, responding with a knowing gleam meant for her alone. Giddy excitement shivered down her spine. She marveled at what the mere sight of this man did to her, although he did look exceptionally handsome tonight in a tweedy gray sport jacket. His thick, dark blond hair was a warming, rich gold contrast to the sleek black of his turtleneck and slacks.
There was no time for them to speak before Bernadatte appeared with coats folded over her arm, announcing it was time to leave for the cottage. Paul took Amy’s coat as the family filed out.
“You look wonderful tonight,” he murmured, slipping the coat over her long-waisted soft jersey dress. His hands cupped her shoulders as he nuzzled the back of her hair. “You’re as ravishing in red as you are in elf green.”
Amy winced. Stifling a chuckle, she turned to Paul with a teasing leer. “I’m not sure I can ever wear green again. And I’m gonna burn that suit.”
“Don’t you dare.” He hugged her to him, squeezing her warmly in his arms.
Arriving at the cottage arm in arm, Amy and Paul were just as surprised as the rest of the family to find Dirk Campbell helping Maura set up the dinner buffet. The comments, the glances, the jokes caused Maura to throw up her arms in despair. “Okay, the Christmas spirit got the better of me. I admit it. But when he stopped by the shop for last minute gifts to send to his family in Florida, it struck me that even Dirk Campbell deserves some holiday cheer. Especially for finally shopping in my store. So, I brought him with me.”
“The more the merrier,” George chipped in, hugging Bridget to his side.
“And for the sake of peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” Dirk continued amid the good-natured ribbing, “we have made a pact to be civil to each other-—”
Maura pushed her way in front of him. “Until January 2.”
Bernadette laughed the loudest, her eyes sparkling with hope as she looked at Maura and Dirk. “The saints be praised and let’s eat.”
This camaraderie continued through dinner and the tree trimming. There were so many hands helping that decorating didn’t take long, regardless of all the laughing and reminiscing. Finally, George lifted Willy onto his shoulders to place the star on top of the tree. Amy scanned the group circling the tree, faces smiling and all eyes uplifted to the glittery star clasped in tiny hands. She realized how very dear these people had become to her. Despite the initial suspicions and resentment—on both sides—the Ryans had embraced her as part of their family. A sense of belonging glowed within Amy, as warm as the Christmas star shining in their eyes, and as real as the tall, vital man beside her, arm wrapped around her waist. On this night of family and belonging, Amy couldn’t help thinking of all Paul had lost. She’d do everything she could to make it up to him this Christmas.
After the gathering disbanded late in the evening, Amy walked Paul to his truck in the inn parking lot. “A group activity wasn’t actually what I had mind when I said I wanted to see you tonight,” Paul said, drawing her against him.
“No?” Her fingers danced lightly on his chest as her eyes flirted with his. “What did you have in mind?”
“Having you all to myself. All night long.”
A surge of pleasure curled through her. “Maybe, if you make it worth my while, I’ll reconsider.”
“Okay.” Smiling, he kissed the tip of her nose. “How about a fully restocked refrigerator and a meal to knock your socks off?”
“Better than my spaghetti?” she asked, purposely reminding him of how they had feasted after making love last night.
“Darlin’, nothing will ever be as good as that spaghetti.” Paul leaned close to plant kisses along the curve of her neck.
“I’ll come anyway,” she rasped, her spine tingling with delight.
As Paul had to stop at the supermarket before preparing this sock-knocking meal, they agreed to meet at his place late the following afternoon. Once she assured him she could indeed find her way back to his house, he gave her the back door key and a long, breath-robbing goodnight kiss.
Paul tossed items into the grocery cart with hurried abandon. He was running late and Amy was waiting at home for him. Waiting for him. That sounded so good, and the image in his mind was even better.
God, it was amazing how much everything could change in a few weeks. His life had been thrown upside down and inside out by a pretty dark-haired lady he hadn’t even expected to like. Now he was crazy about her. Somehow Amy had worked her Riordan magic, making him feel alive in a way he’d never known, filling him with the kind of hope that had been sapped from his soul by too many years alone.
Outside the store, Paul threw a wad of bills into the bell-ringing Santa’s pot in the spirit of comradeship with a fellow St. Nick. He hummed along with the carols blaring over the shopping center’s public-address system, very much in a holiday mood for the first time in years. December 25 was still a couple of days away. But for him, Christmas had already arrived in the person of Amy Riordan.
The road leading home was clear and dry, and Paul took advantage of it. He couldn’t wait to get to Amy. Her sweet eyes and sexy smile, her warm, giving body—just knowing these were minutes away from his sight and touch made his blood hum.
Rolling up his long driveway, Paul spotted Amy’s silver sedan parked close to the house. When he pulled in behind it, he noticed another car was parked in the yard, as well—one he didn’t recognize—a blue station wagon with D.C. plates. Mystified, he grabbed the two sacks of groceries and went in through the back door. The kitchen was empty, but he heard voices coming from the living room. Leaving the groceries on the counter, he quietly walked into the living room.
Amy, sitting on the sofa with another woman, saw him right away. She greeted him with an awkward smile. “You have a visitor, Paul.”
The blonde next to her stood up. “Hello, Paul. It’s been a long time.”
Feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him, he just stared as she crossed the room to him. She clutched his hand between hers and kissed his cheek.
He managed to find his voice. “Shelly, how did you get here?” he asked, truly rattled by his ex-wife’s unexpected appearance at his house. He hadn’t seen her since their last day in court over four years ago. She hadn’t changed much at all.
“I went to the inn, figuring Bernadette would know where to find you,” she explained. “It was nice to actually meet her after all this time. She’s just as you described her.”
“Bernadette knows you’re here?”
“Yes, I met her and Amy, too.” Shelly glanced back at the sofa. “When I heard she was coming to see you, I asked if I could foll
ow her.”
Paul looked at Amy, who sat there, uncomfortable, unsure. He wanted to go to her, but Shelly still clung to his hand, blocking his path.
“Why didn’t you answer my letter?” she asked. “Or call me back? I left several messages on your answering machine.”
“I thought my silence was an answer.”
Shelly stepped back. “I wouldn’t have come out here like this if it wasn’t important. We have to talk, Paul. It’s about Andrew.”
” What about Andrew? Is he ill?”
“No, nothing like that,” Shelly quickly reassured. “He’s a happy, well-adjusted seven-year-old who’s asking a lot of questions. About you.”
Amy started to rise from the couch. “Maybe I should leave you two alone to talk.”
He went to her, pressing her back down. “I want you to stay. Please.”
“Are you sure?”
Nodding, he sat beside her and looked up at Shelly. “Amy knows all about what happened.”
Shelly offered no objections as she sat on the overstuffed club chair next to the sofa. “On our family therapist’s advice, we’ve tried to be open about you with Andrew from the beginning,” she began to explain. “It wouldn’t have been healthy to deny your existence when you were such an important person in his life.”
“Your husband must have loved that.”
“Please remember Bob felt threatened by you. He’s eased up considerably now that his relationship with Andrew is secure. Besides, he only wants what’s best for his son.”
“Where is this leading, Shelly?”
“Andrew wants to see you again.”
“He doesn’t remember who the hell I am,” he snapped, impatient, yet not sure why. Amy put a hand on his arm to calm him.
“He certainly does,” Shelly insisted. “He knows you were his stand-in dad, who took care of him until his real daddy could be with us. I saved some pictures of the two of you together, and he still likes to look at them.”
“I see. He’s remembering the pictures of me.”
Shelly leaned forward in the chair. “Andrew is very precocious, very sensitive. He has two or three really intense memories of you from that last year together, Like the day you two found starfish on the beach in Oregon. I don’t have pictures of that. I wasn’t even there.”
Paul closed his eyes. Lord, he’d forgotten about that himself. Andrew had been afraid to go near the starfish at first, but once he’d touched them, he’d gotten so excited that all he wanted to do was hunt starfish for the rest of their vacation.
“When we first moved to L.A., he’d ask about you all the time,” Shelly admitted. “I’d tell him he couldn’t see Daddy Paul because you had moved to Virginia. Now that’s come back to haunt me. Bright second grader that he is, Andrew knows Washington, D.C., is near Virginia. He made me promise to contact you.”
He couldn’t believe this was happening. He’d never expected to see Shelly or Andrew again. Why now, after all the years of struggling to put that part of his life behind him? Why now, when he’d just found Amy? How could he possibly take a step backward like that?
Paul got to his feet. “Tell him you can’t find me.”
“I could do that,” Shelly said, obviously disappointed. “But seeing you will help him bring that part of his life full circle. I think he needs that. Why else would the questions continue?”
“If he’s as happy and as well adjusted as you say, he’ll get over it. Andrew’s got a mother, a father and a brother. He doesn’t need me.”
“I can’t believe you’re refusing him. I thought for sure once you heard the whole story—”
Resentment churned through his gut. “Refuse him? In case you’ve forgotten, I gave up everything for that boy.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“Then how could you come barging into my homein to my life?”
“Paul!” Amy came to his side.
“It’s all right, Amy,” Shelly said, reaching for her coat and purse. She rose from the chair and turned to him. “Mothers will try anything for the sake of their children. I’m only doing what I think best for Andrew. Still, you’re right. I could be making too much of this. He may be fine without your help.” She hooked the purse strap over her arm. “But please know, Paul, I’ve always felt terrible about how things turned out.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t anybody’s fault.”
“Maybe not. But it hurt you terribly. I guess I had the notion that helping Andrew this way might help you. Must be leftover guilt.”
“You don’t need to feel guilty. And I don’t need help.”
Shelly took a long look at. Amy standing behind his shoulder. “No. I can see you don’t.”
When Paul returned from walking Shelly to her car, he found Amy lost in thought, gazing out one of the living room windows. The tension Shelly had created still hung in the air. Damn! His ex-wife’s visit made him feel bad enough as it was, but it riled him to realize the evening he and Amy had planned was now in jeopardy.
He was determined to save it.
Quietly he came up behind Amy, circling his arms around her slender waist, holding her tense spine tight against his chest. He lowered his mouth to the back of her neck, kissing the silky nape. Her body melted into his, giving Paul hope.
“I’m sorry Shelly came here like that,” he murmured, his cheek caressed by her lustrous, dark hair. “I don’t want it to wreck our night.”
“Neither do I.” She turned in his arms, looking up at him beseechingly. “But, Paul, won’t you please reconsider about seeing Andrew? It’s a terrible mistake to leave him wonder—”
“Amy, I realize all this must be hard on you. But don’t confuse it with you and Greg. It’s not the—”
“Don’t tell me it’s not the same.” She pushed away from him. “Andrew is as much a child of divorce as I am. No matter how young he was, no matter if you’re not his natural father—he loved you like a son.”
“Well, he can’t love me like a son anymore. Didn’t you hear? I’m ‘Daddy Paul’.”
“You have every reason to feel resentful. Still, if’s not right to act like he no longer exists.”
Paul struggled with his temper. Amy couldn’t know how Andrew haunted his every thought. “I resent wasting time arguing about this when you and I should be holding each other, making the most of tonight.”
She stood silent for a moment, her gaze clearly pained. Then, murmuring apologies, she walked back into his arms. “Maybe I am confusing the issues. I just don’t want you to deny Andrew—and yourself—the resolution my father and I never had.”
Paul tightened his arms around her, but he couldn’t hold her close enough. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her lips. “I want us to look ahead to what we have together—not at what we’ve both lost in the past.”
“That’s what I want, too,” she said, breathless, her heart pounding hard against his chest. “That’s all I want.”
“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” Paul said, his head reeling with the white smoke of desire as Amy clung to him. He trailed impassioned kisses along her neck and over her ear, until her body shivered in his arms. “Let me love you,” he whispered. “Let me love you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dawn broke just as Amy pulled into the Blue Sky’s parking lot. The inn looked shuttered and dark, which is exactly what she had hoped. She didn’t care how Paul laughed or teased, she just couldn’t waltz into the inn during the busy breakfast hour after spending the entire night at his house—under nonsnowbound conditions. Maybe some of his penchant for privacy was rubbing off on her.
Difficult as it had been to drag herself away from Paul’s warm bed, she had plans she was anxious to get on with. She had people to call, arrangements to make and lots of Christmas shopping to do before she went back to Washington for the holiday.
Now, however, the pressure and dread associated with her return home no longer existed. During the long, lovely night in Paul’s arms
, Amy had decided to give herself the gift of time for Christmas. Time to absorb the new relationships and lessons of the past weeks. Time to contemplate what she wanted to do and where she wanted to be. Time to know Paul.
She felt relieved and excited. And she loved this new morning. The town was blanketed with snow, the sky was as deep and as bright as the inn’s name, and the air so crisp. Amy wanted to drink it all in and make it part of her. It was perfect. Today everything was perfect&h; almost.
Alone now, she could admit she was troubled by Paul’s reaction to his ex-wife’s request. Yes, she understood his misgivings. Yet she couldn’t get it out of her mind that he had actually walked away from Andrew four years ago, and denied him contact even now. No matter how noble his reasons for giving up his rights to the boy, he had, in effect, abandoned his son. Maybe she was taking it all too personally. Perhaps the situation did hit too close to home. Still, in her heart, she felt Paul’s refusal to see Andrew was wrong.
Amy prayed she could make Paul understand this.
She hit the mall in Winchester at eleven and was out by two in the afternoon. Amy was happy with the toys she chose for Willy and Jenny, and the mohair sweaters, leather gloves and silk scarves she bought for George, Bridget and Maura. Her best find was the pair of handcrafted silver earrings she knew Bernadette would love. Who would have believed she’d be buying Christmas gifts for her father’s other “family"? Or how very happy it would make her to do so?
Although her trip to the mall had been successful, she drove to Maura’s shop for the few remaining gifts she needed for her Washington friends. New Worlds bustled with last minute Christmas shoppers, so Amy browsed through the sizable selections of New Age music CDs while Maura helped her customers.
“Thank goodness Christmas is the day after tomorrow. I love all the extra business, but I could use a break,” Maura declared when the two women finally had a moment together. As usual, she was full of chatter about everything in her universe, and it didn’t take long for her to get around to Amy and Paul.
“You two were very chummy the other night at Mom’s. Is there something going on I should know about?”
