by Olivia Miles
She changed Audrey quickly and rocked her in her arms as she softly sang the same lullaby her father had once sung to her, nestled in his arms in the big old rocking chair that was still in her childhood room. She tried not to think about the fact that Audrey would never have a memory like that to cherish. She told herself that no father at all was better than a lousy one, but when she dared to wish, dared to dream, she knew she wanted her child to have two parents who loved her.
“I’ll just have to give you double the love,” she said as she set Audrey back in the crib and backed away slowly.
She walked through the dark room and sat on the edge of the bed, knowing that she wouldn’t fall asleep again soon. She had no books with her, and there was no television in the room, not that she could turn it on anyway with Audrey sleeping soundly nearby.
The way she saw it, she could stare at the ceiling until Audrey woke again, or she could venture downstairs to that cozy study Greg had shown her last night. With its soft leather couch and built-in bookshelves full of movies, she was bound to find something that would hold her interest. And it was tucked far enough away that she didn’t see how she could disturb anyone, either.
She tossed a sweater over her T-shirt and grabbed the baby monitor. Soon she was closing the French doors behind her, alone in the study. She turned on a table lamp and studied her choices, grinning when she saw one of her old favorites: a holiday movie she hadn’t watched in years.
She was just snuggling up with a thick chenille blanket when the door creaked open, causing her to jump.
Greg stared at her in amusement, one eyebrow lifted in silent surprise as he stared at her from the doorway. He’d changed since she’d left him a few hours ago, but only into jeans and a sweater. From the looks of it, he hadn’t gone to bed yet.
She looked down at her flannel pajama pants, suddenly wondering if she’d overstepped.
“I’m sorry. I thought I wouldn’t bother anyone here. I couldn’t sleep.”
He shrugged. “That makes two of us. And it’s no bother. I’m usually awake at this hour.”
“Oh.” Charlotte glanced at the television, where the opening credits were starting to play.
“So, what are we watching?” Greg walked casually into the room and dropped onto the sofa next to Charlotte.
She moved over an inch, even though she could have stayed exactly where she was, just close enough to feel the heat of his skin.
She moved over another inch. No good would come from thinking that way.
“A Christmas movie,” she told him.
He curled his lip. “A Christmas movie?”
She balked at him. “You don’t even like Christmas movies?”
He shrugged, but his grin was rueful. “Overexposure.”
She considered this. Being surrounded by Christmas cards and decorations for the better part of a year might be a bit too much of a good thing, she supposed. Still, she wasn’t about to back down, not now that she had her heart set on watching it.
She pointed out the double set of French doors against the far wall, where a view of a snow-covered stone terrace shone in the moonlight. “Look at that. It’s a winter wonderland out there. It’s the perfect night for a holiday movie.”
He didn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”
“I do.” Charlotte settled back against a pillow. “Besides, this one is really terrific—”
“Wait. You’ve seen it before?”
“At least a dozen times! We watch it every Christmas. It’s sort of a family tradition.”
Greg’s brow furrowed. “That sounds nice.”
Charlotte grinned, imagining how wonderful it would be when Audrey was old enough to partake in the event. “Usually we make a big bowl of popcorn, have some hot chocolate. We can recite all the lines, of course, but that’s just part of the fun. Whenever I think of this movie, well, it just feels like coming home.”
Greg glanced at her. “I can make some popcorn if you’d like.”
Charlotte considered the holiday dress she’d hoped to squeeze herself into for the party, and then decided the diet could wait. She grinned. “I’ll pause it. You don’t want to miss the opening scene.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to do that,” Greg teased, but she could sense that he was pleased.
Charlotte couldn’t wipe the smile from her face as she snuggled deeper under the chenille blanket and waited for Greg to return with the popcorn. Despite the size of the house, she could soon make out the sound of popping—she glanced sharply at the baby monitor, silently willing Audrey to be unaware of the noise. She was enjoying herself, maybe more than she should, and she wasn’t ready to be on mom duty again just yet. For a few moments she wanted to just be Charlotte.
And somehow, with Greg, she was. Greg, who didn’t know her past. Greg, who had no hold on her future. Greg, who knew her just as she was. Today. Present moment only. No mistakes. No slipups.
She stared at the frozen television screen. A year ago she had watched this movie alone, with tears streaming down her face as she worked her way through a family-sized bag of potato chips, wondering if her sister and parents were watching it together, if they were happy she wasn’t with them.
Little did she know at the time just how different this year would be. Better. Or at least on the up-and-up.
Greg came into the room with a bowl of popcorn, his grin sheepish. “I won’t lie. It’s microwaved.”
“The best kind,” Charlotte remarked. Her eyes widened slightly as he slid onto the couch beside her again. Was it just her imagination, or was he coming a little closer this time?
She looked to her right. There wasn’t much more space left for her to move. “Ready to start the movie?” she asked, gripping the remote.
He passed her the bowl of popcorn, and she helped herself to a few kernels. “This isn’t one of those feel-good movies, is it?”
She raised an eyebrow. “It’s a holiday movie. What do you think?”
He shook his head, but she could tell by his faint smile that he liked her response. “Oh, boy. Let’s get it over with then.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy it. Trust me.”
He gave her a strange look. “I do trust you.”
She rearranged herself on the couch, unsure of what to make of that remark, and fighting back the strange feeling that she just might be able to trust him, too. If she let herself.
The fell into silence as the movie started, and a few glances at Greg told her that he was fully engrossed within minutes. She smiled in satisfaction and decided to enjoy herself and put her troubles from her mind for a bit. But the next thing she knew the television screen was quiet. There was popcorn sprinkled all over the leather couch, and the baby monitor crackled somewhere behind her.
She tried to remember the last scene in the movie she’d watched and realized with a sinking feeling that she’d fallen asleep well over an hour ago. Her eyes sprang open. She wasn’t in her bedroom, and the pillow under her cheek wasn’t a pillow at all. It was a chest. A very hard, very sturdy, very manly chest. She blinked in panic. Staying as still as she could under the tense circumstances, she listened to the steady drum of Greg’s heartbeat through his sweater, felt the rhythm of his breath as his chest moved softly up and down, moving her with it, almost lulling her into a state of tranquility.
He was asleep. And so help her, she intended for him to remain that way.
Inch by inch, she eased herself off the couch, grabbed the baby monitor by the handle, and made her way to the half-open French doors.
“Hey.”
She winced, and closed her eyes before turning to face the owner of the smooth, groggy voice that was much too deep and husky for her own good. “I think we fell asleep.”
She didn’t bother mentioning just what position they’d ended up in, or how that might have happened. She felt the blood drain from her cheeks when she considered that while she had dozed off somewhere around the scene where the young boy goe
s to the mall with his wish list, meaning somewhere in the first third of the movie, it was entirely possible that Greg hadn’t nodded off until a few minutes ago.
“Too bad. That was a pretty good movie.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “Told you so.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Rain check then?”
That sounded an awful lot like an invitation she should probably resist, but with that friendly grin and those warm eyes, really, what was a girl to do? “Can’t wait.”
And she realized as she turned from the room and hurried back upstairs that she couldn’t wait. And that was really quite a problem.
Chapter Nineteen
Charlotte looked up from the pile of invoices Kate had asked her to review and checked her watch. She still had four hours of the afternoon left before businesses started to close, and with the party only a little more than a week away now, she needed to make use of all the time she had left, even though she would love nothing more than to take a break and go soak in that glorious tub in her en suite bathroom. But that would be irresponsible. Grounds for being fired, really. After all, she was technically working on the jobsite, right now. Even if it was starting to feel a bit too much like home…
She had decided to work in the living room, next to the Christmas tree. Already it was looking better in here. The tree was lit with more than a thousand lights, and she’d spent the better part of the morning carefully hanging hundreds of Frost ornaments Stacy had loaded into her trunk on her visit to the warehouse. She’d opened each ornament box as if it were a gift, wondering what would be tucked inside, and then taken a moment to study the charming ceramic objects before finding just the right spot for them on the enormous branches. There was just one ornament she had hoped to find and hadn’t, but she told herself that didn’t matter. This wasn’t their home, and this wasn’t even where they would be spending Christmas.
It was baby’s first Christmas, and she didn’t even know where they would be.
No use worrying about that now when she still had to get through the Frost party. If she indulged in fretting over all the uncertainties of her future, she’d never be able to focus on the present, and right now, she had too much work to do for the party. Greg might be an easy enough client, but Rita Frost was not, and there was no telling what the Burke family expected. This party had to be top-notch. No hitches. No mistakes.
Charlotte crossed a few items off her list and moved on to the next task. She frowned. The flowers! She had meant to visit Bree yesterday to discuss her options in person—a detail Kate had always stressed was of utmost importance. But of course, Bree had the honor of going to the dress fitting with Kate, while Charlotte was left to hold down the office, in case a bride called in tears. And three had, of course. One over the five pounds she’d gained since Thanksgiving that threatened to ruin the cut of her dress. Another over a backorder on the favors. And of course…another meltdown over the maid of honor’s back tattoo.
Charlotte wondered if her sister had decided on the bridesmaid dresses yet. She’d ask Bree today. See if Kate had hinted about the maid of honor. It was better to know than to live in false hope.
She closed her folder and set it to the side. It was time to get Audrey from her nap. If she slept any later, she’d never fall asleep tonight, and there was no way that Charlotte was going to risk another interrupted evening. Last night had been a one-off. And it couldn’t happen again.
In their room, Audrey was sleeping on her back in the crib, just as Charlotte had left her more than an hour before. Her little hands were balled into tight fists, her round cheek pressed to the cool sheet. Her chest rose and fell softly with each tiny breath. Charlotte smiled. She could watch her all day like this.
Reaching down to scoop the baby, Charlotte let Audrey’s head fall back against her shoulder as she carried her down the stairs, covering her with a blanket as they stepped outside and hurried to the car. With any luck, Bree would be free for a few minutes to chat, and if not, Charlotte would have to just look around the room for inspiration. Poinsettias would be an obvious choice, of course, but Charlotte wanted this party to be unique and memorable. Not just to prove herself to Kate, but because she was starting to realize just how important this event was to Greg, too.
And she was starting to suspect that it had a lot less to do with winning the Burke account than he believed.
Despite having taken an almost two-hour nap, Audrey slept through the drive, and she was still deep in slumber when Charlotte pulled her car to the front of the flower shop. She sat in the warm car for a few minutes enjoying the silence, while all around her the winter chill was made up for by the beautiful decorations on Harbor Street.
Not bothering to unhook the sleeping baby, Charlotte balanced the carrier on her forearm and proudly walked through the front door of Rose in Bloom, the bells above the door announcing her arrival and thankfully not waking Audrey. If she could get through this without Audrey stirring, that was all she could really ask for today. She needed to concentrate, and that was a mighty tough thing to do with a baby wailing in your ear, muddling your thoughts, leaving you feeling so frazzled at times, so completely overwhelmed, you didn’t know where to start with the long list of things that needed to be done every day in life. Much less in work.
More than once, when she’d taken Audrey shopping, she’d abandoned her cart halfway through. Between a crying baby and the lack of sleep and the thought of having to load up the car and then unload it all—plus a baby, who needed to be fed and changed, ASAP—it was sometimes just too overwhelming. Each time she’d gone out to the car, face flushed from frustration, and then realized that if she didn’t finish her shopping now, she’d have to come back tomorrow, because there was no one else to buy the diapers. Quitting wasn’t an option.
Charlotte sighed as she transferred the carrier to her other arm, careful to dodge one of Bree’s Christmas displays. The thing was heavy, and her arm was already tired, and was it just her or was it really hot in here? She knew Bree complained about the refrigeration, but honestly! She unzipped her coat with her free hand, feeling slightly better, and returned to her task. The flowers had to be perfect, or no doubt Rita Frost would have something to say, and Charlotte didn’t want to give her anything to say. For Greg’s sake, as much as her own, she wanted this party to be perfect.
She had just stopped to admire some of the beautiful red roses when she heard his voice. Her heart dropped into her stomach as her breath seemed to stop. Ever so slowly, she shifted her gaze to the left, searching through the sea of green and red plants until her worst suspicion was confirmed.
There he stood, at the counter, his back to her, his arm resting casually on the waist of a woman who, even from this angle, looked perfectly coiffed and manicured. And blond.
Jake.
Charlotte’s heart began to pound. She looked around for Bree, knowing how quick her cousin would be to back her up. She hitched the carrier higher on her arm and turned, coming face-to-face with a surprised but smiling middle-aged store clerk she had never seen before. Of course, she thought. Bree had hired seasonal help. “Can I help you with something?” the woman asked a little too loudly.
Charlotte could feel the blood rushing in her ears. She couldn’t see him. Not like this. Not here. Not without a lick of makeup on her face and hair that still needed to be washed. God help her, she wasn’t even sure she had put on a bra that morning. Greg was already gone when she’d woken up, and the day had just slipped away…
She shook her head at the woman and pressed a finger to her lips, sliding her eyes back to Audrey in what she hoped was a pointed message. The woman’s face immediately melted, and in a stage whisper, she crooned, “My, what an angel. Let me know if I can help you with something.”
Charlotte nodded and darted behind the large Christmas tree Bree had set up in the center of her shop. She should leave. Right now. She should turn and go while she had the chance. She knew she should, but she couldn’t.
> He was Audrey’s father. Her father! And he was standing in this very room, breathing the same air. Charlotte set her free hand to her chest. She could feel it pounding through her coat. She looked down at Audrey, still asleep, still unaware of the mess of her mother’s life, the circumstances of her existence, and felt her resolve tighten.
For Audrey’s sake, she wouldn’t give up on Jake.
Maybe…maybe if she let him know she wasn’t interested in him romantically, that she wanted nothing more from him than to just acknowledge his own child, he would step up.
On shaking knees, she stepped forward. The room seemed to close in on her, the voices at the counter swarming together. She took another step, and then one more, until soon she was too close to turn and run. For Audrey, she reminded herself. She owed her daughter this.
“Jake.”
He turned at the sound of his name. His eyebrows rose in question, an expectant half smile on his lips. At the sight of her, his brow shot down into a thick, firm line. His eyes darkened, and any trace of a smile disappeared.
“Charlotte.” His voice was tight and gruff, attracting the attention of the woman at his side. Charlotte swept her eyes over the woman, noting with some small satisfaction that the photo in the paper had clearly been her best moment, and then turned fully back to Jake. She looked him straight in the eye, wondering what this woman knew, what he had told her. Frankly, she didn’t care.
Audrey was his child. And it was time Jake admitted that.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” she said pleasantly. She plastered on her best and biggest smile, even though she was practically baring her teeth.
Jake frowned, clearly guarded, and shrugged his response.
“I’ve had some wonderful changes in my life, too, recently. Have you met Audrey?” Of course he hadn’t. The last time she’d seen him she’d been eight months pregnant. With a trembling hand, she pulled down the soft blanket to reveal Jake’s daughter.
