by Jane Porter
“I’ve got my hands pretty full right now. Not sure if I need more trouble,” he replied, cupping her chin and bringing her mouth back to his. “But I can’t resist you.”
His lips covered hers and the firm pressure parted hers. His tongue flicked her lower lip, and she arched helplessly, tingling with pleasure. The kiss felt so good and her fingers itched to touch him.
“Daddy! Why are you kissing Whitney?” Daisy giggled, squeezing between Cormac and Whitney, breaking them apart.
Blushing, Whitney glanced down into Daisy’s face. The girl’s eyes were bright, her expression hopeful as she looked from Cormac to Whitney and back again. “Does this mean you’re going to marry her?”
They both froze. Cormac’s eyes locked with hers. Whitney’s mind went completely blank. For a moment no one said anything and then Whitney managed to jump to her feet without spilling cider or knocking over a young child. “I might try to skate some more. I’m feeling much better.”
And she staggered onto the ice, her hip aching, her knee now throbbing but she valiantly made a circle around the pond hoping the cold air would cool her feverish state.
This was crazy and dangerous. Cormac didn’t ever play fair. She couldn’t let emotion and passion cloud her thinking. She was here for work—and a relationship with Daisy—not for a dalliance with Cormac.
Although dallying with Cormac right now sounded really, really appealing…
Cormac suddenly skated up behind her, and his hands went to her waist to steady her as she nearly tripped over her own feet in surprise. “You are adorable, Whitney. Like a newborn foal on ice.”
She shot him a panicked glance. “You said it’d be like riding a bike.”
“I’m beginning to wonder how well you ride a bike.”
She laughed and nearly fell over and grabbed at his arm for support. “Probably not all that well. Where’s Daisy?”
“Brock and the twins just arrived. Daisy wants to stay with them and Brock said he didn’t mind. He and Mack are going to get in some stick time for hockey and Molly promised to look after Daisy. Later Brock will feed her lunch and then drop her off at the hotel.” His gaze met hers, the clear gray green depths full of heat. “Which means you and I are on our own.”
Chapter Eighteen
‡
They walked hand in hand to Cormac’s SUV, and Whitney’s pulse raced like mad. She darted nervous side glances at Cormac’s profile and her heart turned over every time she looked at him.
He was so gorgeous and there was no man on the planet who could kiss like Cormac Sheenan, but the fact that she was so very attracted scared her to death.
He’d broken her heart before…as well as her trust. Could she really afford to risk it all again?
“You keep looking at me as if I’m about to bite you,” he said, unlocking the car door and holding the passenger side open for her.
She laughed weakly as she climbed in. “I think I don’t know what to think.”
He didn’t close the door. He stepped closer and leaned in, his broad shoulders filling the space. He looked amazing up close. She loved how white his teeth were against his skin, and the little creases at his eyes, and even the bright green flecks in the cool gray depths. Her fingers itched to touch him. It was all she could do to keep her hands to herself.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said. “You know me.”
Yes, she did. Which made this all that much harder. “We are in the middle of two big projects,” she said, her voice pitched low. “I made a commitment to you, to getting these jobs done. I’m not sure I can handle the stress if I’m not calm and focused.”
He lowered his head, his lips brushing hers. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured. “I never want to hurt you again.”
Her chest squeezed tight. She struggled to drag air into her lungs. “I don’t think you have ever meant to hurt me, but it has happened.” Twice, she mentally added. “And with Daisy now involved, it’s important we take extra care to protect her.” Her eyes searched his, wanting him to understand because it would be so easy to lose her head and get close to him but her gut told her it’d have disastrous results.
“We have so much history,” she added. “And you know from our history, I have a huge soft spot for you.” Her lips curved, her smile tremulous. “But this time we have to look at the big picture. I am here for work. I’m on your payroll until the end of the month. It wouldn’t be fair to Daisy, or my publishing group, to do something impulsive that would just later blow up in our face.”
He lifted a strand of hair from her cheek and pushed it back behind her ear. “Then let me earn your trust back. Let me prove to you that we can work, and that we can be good together again.”
“What about Daisy? She could be hurt by this. And I don’t want her hurt—”
“We will both protect her, you and me. Together this time.”
“But there isn’t a you and me. There is only you. You have custody. You have power. You have a huge company, where I work for you. I’m your Girl Friday. I’m talented and convenient.” Her lips quivered and she bit ruthlessly down.
“I’m not trying to be a pessimist,” she added after a moment, her voice unsteady, “but Daisy will be hurt by all this. I know it. I can feel it. We’re not okay. We’re not who we were, and we’re not sure who we are now. I’m here, but I don’t see how I fit into the future. I wish I could see more of the future—”
“You don’t have to see the future,” he interrupted. “It’s not here yet. We just have to try today. We need to live today. And I think we’re doing that. Let’s keep doing that—”
“I loved you,” she interrupted hoarsely.
“And I loved you, too. I wanted to marry you—”
“How can you say that? You didn’t. You most definitely did not want to marry me.”
“I did. Briefly. But then I panicked. I didn’t want to make you unhappy. I didn’t want to do to you what my dad did to my mom.”
“You didn’t want to hurt me, so you hurt me.”
“Yes.”
She shook her head, tears falling. “That’s cruel, you know? You dread failing me so you fail me. That’s awesome.”
“I’m ashamed—”
“You should be,” she choked, cutting him off. “It’s one thing to break my heart, but it’s another to never even speak to me about it, or try to explain. You made the pain worse. You made it worse by cutting me off…pushing me away.”
“I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t raised to use works. And I screwed up. I know it. I regretted it then, and regret it now—”
“Can I ask you something?” Her gaze met his and held. “What has changed? How have you changed? What makes you a different man now?”
“Daisy changed me.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. But she cracked that protective wall I had around my heart and once it cracked open, it just…came down.” Cormac reached out to wipe away the tears from one cheek and then the other. “I’m not that man I was. I never want to be that man again. But I’m also not perfect. I will fail you again, but I know this, I’d rather try and fail with you, than not try and fail without you. You’re the only woman I want in my life, Whitney. You’re the only woman for my life, Whitney. Give me a chance to show you we can make this work.”
“And what if you change your mind? What if you wake up in a few months or a few years and realize this was all a mistake?”
“I won’t. I am different now. I’m not that guy you met….not that bachelor in a bar. I’m a dad. A family man. But my family isn’t complete without you.”
Whitney couldn’t see through the tears. She couldn’t feel anything, either. At least, none of the things he wanted her to feel. “Cormac, you don’t mean this. You’re not the settle-down-kind-of-guy.”
“I need you to forgive me, baby.”
“I do forgive you. But that doesn’t mean I…trust…you.”
&n
bsp; “So let me earn your trust. Let’s take our time. Take the pressure off. Let’s just enjoy each other. Can we do that? It would mean the world to me.”
“You’re trying awfully hard to close the deal, Sheenan.”
“I’m trying awfully hard to let my girl know I love her.”
Her heart fell, tumbling to her feet. This is how it’d been in the beginning. He just…did it…for her. “I’m not your girl.”
“You’ve always been my girl.”
She took his hand, kissing his palm. “You mean your Girl Friday.”
“I’m not your boss.”
“You are most definitely my boss. And I am your subordinate. Every time you issue a directive, I jump.”
“Jump? Ha! You barely budge,” he countered, leaning into the car to kiss her slowly, thoroughly, before lifting his head to look her in the eye. “But thank you. You just gave me an idea.”
*
After dropping Whitney off at Bramble House, Cormac returned to the hotel and took the elevator up to his room, but his thoughts were still focused on Whitney and their conversation at the lake.
It was the first real conversation they’d had in years. It wasn’t a great conversation, but it was a start. And they had to start somewhere. He needed to fix this with her. It wouldn’t be easy, though. He wasn’t comfortable with words. He wasn’t always sure how to express himself. They’d communicated before by making love and their physical connection had been intense, but they needed to learn how to handle conflict. They needed to learn how to be a true team.
He wanted to marry her. He wanted to raise Daisy with her and grow old with her. But they wouldn’t have a future if they didn’t learn how to talk, and disagree, and make up again.
It was his fault, too. He wasn’t good at compromise. He’d always smashed opposition but that wasn’t the way to handle family. He didn’t ever want to smash Daisy. He certainly didn’t want to smash Whitney, either. He loved her. He did.
Yet today she’d called herself his subordinate.
It was laughable.
When had Whitney ever been his subordinate in anything? He might be the founder, CEO, and President of Inc, but she knew what made Sheenan Media succeed and she’d been instrumental in turning the flailing magazines he purchased around. She’d been involved at every step, overhauling the magazine content, design and advertising base. Montana Living, Wyoming Living, Colorado Living, Big Sky Design…those were hers, and the circulation and subscribers were at an all-time high, along with new, vigorous growth in the digital editions, and the executive team knew those successes were hers, too.
But she mentioned the business relationship several times, and she had a point. It was hard to focus on building a personal relationship when there was so much emphasis on the professional.
Maybe it was time she was off the payroll.
Maybe it was time they started a brand new relationship, for the new year. For a new future.
He wanted that future, too. He wanted a future with Whitney…not behind him, not propping him up, supporting him, but a future with her at his side. His true partner. His equal. His mate.
*
For the next week Whitney worked practically night and day at the house on Copper Mountain Lane getting it ready for Cormac and Daisy to move in before Christmas. She wanted to see them in the house by the 22nd but foul weather and the flu that had hit Heath’s crew made even the 24th look like a miracle.
But she believed in miracles. She also believed in hard work and Whitney poured herself into turning the house into a home for the two people she loved most in the world.
It was impossible to work at the house and not think of Cormac, though.
Kissing him had stirred her emotions, waking dormant feelings that now refused to be silenced.
The problem with feeling was that it made her aware of the good stuff, and the bad.
She’d loved him so much and he’d hurt her so badly.
She’d been blindsided by his decisions in the past. Cormac was not, nor had ever been, a team player. He did what was best for him and she worried that his interest in her now was simply because she was available, and convenient.
It was terrible to think of oneself as fast food or a snack, but that’s how she felt Cormac viewed her.
Entertainment. But not permanent.
And the idea of getting close again, only to be tossed away, kept her from daydreaming about happy ever afters. With Cormac there would be no happy ever afters. Cormac was business, and nothing more.
*
It’d been six days since he’d dropped Whitney off at Bramble House and he hadn’t seen her since. At the beginning of the week, Whitney was spending all her time in Paradise Valley working on his house, and then on Wednesday he flew back to Los Angeles for another three days of meetings.
In LA, Hartag put all their cards on the table. They needed to sell the company. They wanted to sell to Sheenan, Inc. They wanted to make it happen before the New Year. All Cormac had to do was make a reasonable offer.
Cormac leaned his airplane seat back and closed his eyes.
At any other time, in any other circumstance, he would have made an offer. He’d always been so focused on growing the company, adding value with the right partners and strategic investments, and Hartag would be both. But it meant adding more to his life and in this case it felt like more stress.
More trips to California and New York.
More meetings and conference calls and late nights poring over sales figures and reports.
If he had to be up late at night, he didn’t want to sit in front of his computer. He wanted to be with Whitney. He wanted to watch the news with her and talk to her and make love to her. He wanted to have breakfast with his family and not in an airplane’s first class cabin.
He wanted more of what he’d done these past few weeks…more movies and pizza, more walks down Main Street, more sledding and ice skating and getting Daisy up on skis this winter.
He’d been driven for so much of his life, consumed with controlling his destiny, but Daisy had changed him. She’d opened his mind and his heart and he wanted less for himself, and more for her.
And more for Whitney, too.
He loved Whitney. He’d always loved Whitney but his love had been selfish and immature. He was a different man now. Older, settled, more grounded, as well as realistic. But he was still far from perfect. Patience wasn’t his strong suit. He had to work at being playful and struggled with a sense of shame.
He’d been raised to view emotions as a weakness. To need someone—to seek love and affection—had been a character flaw.
He didn’t even understand how hard he was, and how damaged he was, until he’d broken Whitney’s heart, and then he’d been too ashamed to reach out and try to make amends. How could he ask for her forgiveness? He was a man who wasn’t supposed to need anything, or anyone, much less a woman.
Yet looking at his brothers, seeing how they had all found a partner, and acceptance, he craved that, too.
If they could be happy…if they could make it work…why couldn’t he?
Cormac wasn’t innocent like Daisy. He knew there was no such thing as miracles and magic—those were but stories told to children. And yet that Friday night as he returned to Montana from Southern California, he really wished he could be a boy again, free to trust, and hope…
And believe.
*
Whitney was in Cormac and Daisy’s hotel suite waiting for his return. Daisy had fallen asleep a half hour ago and Whitney killed time by watching the TV in the living room, the sound down low.
Cormac had texted her when he landed at the Bozeman airport letting her know he was on the ground and would soon be on the way. She was expecting him any minute now. She was looking forward to seeing him, and yet dreading it, at the same time.
It was almost impossible to see him without wanting more. It was a bittersweet trick of fate to have tied them together through work, and then Daisy.<
br />
She heard the door unlock and then he was there, setting down his suitcase, taking off his coat. “How is she?” he asked.
“Wonderful, although she’s very concerned about Comet and Cupid. They got into a fight and now all the reindeer are in an uproar, taking sides.”
“As reindeer do,” he answered dryly. “I suppose Kris is filling her head with these stories.”
“She adores him.”
“And what will she think when she doesn’t get her Christmas wish on Christmas morning, because none of us know what that wish is?”
“Kris said he’s working on it.”
“And in the event that he’s taking the first bus out of town on the 24th, what do we need to do to make sure Daisy’s not disappointed?”
“Get her another fairy costume?”
“I’m serious. He’s built this Christmas up so much I don’t know how the reality of Christmas morning can even come close to what she’s imagining.”
“I’ve thought about that,” she admitted. “And I’m hoping that come Christmas morning she is delighted by the gifts in her stocking and under the tree. Speaking of gifts, I have bought a few things for her and will wrap them and put them under your tree at the house.”
“I don’t have a tree.”
“You do now.”
*
It took another four long days but the construction and the painting and the unpacking was done. The decorations were up. The tree had lights and ornaments and gifts underneath. Fat ivory candles were on the mantel with a half dozen hand-carved wooden angels. A rustic nativity scene was on the dining room sideboard. And last but not least, two knit stockings hung from the handsome mantel, all ready for Christmas Eve.
It had been more than a little frantic, getting everything ready. Thank goodness for Cormac’s family. They’d all pitched in to help her these past few days, despite having plenty to do to prepare for their own family holidays.
Dillon and Paige had flown in with her kids on Saturday to spend Christmas in Montana, and so while Brock’s twins watched the younger ones, the adults went to work.
