[Kate's Boys 03] - Mistletoe and Miracles

by Marie Ferrarella

  Small, bony shoulders rose and fell in the blink of an eye. “Suit yourself. I’ll leave a deposit slip on my desk for you,” she offered. Looking at the check again, he felt his jaw harden. “No need.”

  Rita frowned. It was obvious that she was biting her tongue, trying not to say anything. “You did it pro bono, didn’t you?” she challenged. “That’s just for lawyers, you know.”

  Ordinarily, the eccentric assistant amused him. But he wasn’t in the mood today.

  “Go to the bank, Rita,” he instructed.

  She seemed annoyed, but let it pass without further comment. “Fine. Want me to send in your first patient, or do you want a little downtime to seethe first?”

  Trent glanced at his desk calendar. Every line was filled in. He had a full day ahead of him. Unless he canceled someone’s session, there would be no opportunity to deal with this until after five.

  His sense of obligation won out. “Send in the patient,” he told her.

  Rita’s version of a smug smile slipped across her painfully thin lips. “Whatever you say.”

  That’ll be the day, Trent thought. The woman marched to her own drummer, but she got the job done. Besides, they all felt that if Rita no longer had an office to come to, she would undoubtedly whither away and die.

  About to leave, Rita turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “By the way, she called me, you know.”

  Trent narrowed his eyes, momentarily lost in thought. “Who called you?”

  A touch of impatience danced along her shallow cheeks. “Mrs. Greer. She wanted to know what you charged by the hour.” She pointed toward the check. “That should be for the right amount.”

  It probably was, even though he hadn’t counted the hours. But Laurel obviously had. Everything by the book. As if they were strangers instead of lovers with a history. He continued staring at the check after Rita had left. Part of him thought he should just accept the payment and move on. But the other part, the part that had never played by all the guidelines, just couldn’t do that. He needed to have some questions answered before he put any of this behind him.

  And then the door opened and he was a psychologist again.

  “Hello, Howie,” he said, greeting his twelve-year-old patient cheerfully. “So how was your week?”

  Trent rang the doorbell three times before he received any sort of a response. He’d debated leaving and coming back later. The silent debate was still going on in his head when the door abruptly opened.

  Laurel stood in the space between the doorjamb and the door itself, blocking entrance into her house with her body. “You were supposed to think I wasn’t home.”

  “Then you should have hidden your car,” he informed her.

  “That’s not my car. It’s my mother’s. She’s picking Cody up for a sleepover.” Her mouth curved slightly. “She’s very excited to get her grandson back,” Laurel told him. Trent waited, but nothing further followed. So he finally asked, “Are you going to let me in?”

  With a quick, nervous nod, she stepped back, opening the door further. Walking in, Trent looked around to make sure that Cody wasn’t in the vicinity. His temper, the one he hadn’t known he still had until this morning, was in danger of flaring up.

  But Cody didn’t seem to be in the immediate area. He followed Laurel as she led the way.

  “My mother thinks you’re a miracle worker,” she told him once they reached the living room and she turned around to face him. “So do I,” she added quietly. He pulled the check she’d written out of his back pocket and held it up. He didn’t bother hiding the annoyance in his voice.

  “Is this the going price for miracles these days?” he asked.

  Her eyes darted toward the check and then back at him. She raised her chin ever so slightly. “If it’s not enough, I can—”

  Before she could finish, he crumpled it in his hand, then tossed it on the coffee table. “I told you I wasn’t charging you.”

  Laurel folded her hands together before her. “I didn’t want you thinking I was taking advantage of our friendship.”

  “Is that what it was?” he demanded, a sharp edge entering his voice. “Just friendship? Funny, because I thought it was a great deal more.”

  “You know it was. For me,” she tagged on.

  “Then why this?” he gestured angrily at the crumpled check on the table. When she didn’t answer, he asked, “Why are you backing away?”

  “I’m not the one backing away,” she insisted, distressed. “You are.”

  She caught him off guard with the accusation. He stared at her. “Me?”

  “What else am I supposed to think?” Laurel asked. “You were turning Cody over to someone else.”

  Trent didn’t see the connection. “To help him.”

  “And not to get away from me.” It was an accusation, not a question.

  “Did I say I was trying to get away from you?”

  “Actions speak louder than words.” When he looked at her blankly, she added,

  “You wouldn’t be coming over anymore. And I understand, I really do.”

  “Then explain it to me, because I don’t.” He bit back his frustration and tapped into what he’d once thought of as an endless supply of patience, a supply that was dwindling fast. “What is it that you understand?”

  She wasn’t confrontational by nature. It was costing her to stand here, going toe to toe with him. But she did want him to understand. And maybe, just maybe, some small part of her hoped he would show her that her assumptions were wrong.

  “That you can’t forgive me for turning you down. For disappearing like that on you.” Laurel forced herself not to look away as she said, “For marrying Matt.”

  “About that,” he interjected before she could say anything more.

  Uneasy, Laurel took a deep breath and then asked, “Yes?”

  “I’d just like to know why.”

  “Why?” she echoed.

  “Why did you marry him and not me?” He needed to know. Otherwise, it would haunt him to his grave. “You couldn’t have thought that he’d love you more than I did

  —because no one could,” he added with an almost fierce, unshakable certainty.

  Laurel squared her shoulders like a soldier bracing for one last battle. A battle in which the results would be final and not at all pleasing. Again, she raised her chin, determined to see this through.

  “Matt married me because he couldn’t have me any other way and he liked the challenge of a conquest.”

  Trent shook his head. “I didn’t ask you that. I asked you why you married him. Did you love him that much more than me?”

  “No,” she said with feeling. And then, because even though her reason was selfless, she was still ashamed of admitting it. “For the money.”

  One moment stretched out into two. And then more. Trent looked at her, stunned, the stark, cold answer glaring between them. “I don’t believe you,” he finally said in a low voice.

  A lump suddenly formed in her throat. “It’s true.” She whispered so her voice wouldn’t crack.

  But he shook his head. “I couldn’t have been that wrong about you,” he insisted, his voice deadly still. “You’re not the type to be bought.”

  She let out a long breath. “Everyone can be bought. Just depends on the currency. You were bought with my tears. That’s why you agreed to help Cody,” she went on.

  “Because you hated seeing me so upset.”

  Had all that been calculated? He refused to believe she’d manipulated him. But then, why was she saying all this? “And you were bought with cold cash?”

  “Yes.”

  Something within him crumbled. If he was so wrong about her, then what else had he been so wrong about? “What was it that you needed so desperately?”

  Laurel looked away, not knowing how much longer she could keep this up. “I already told you—”

  Rallying, Trent refused to believe the woman he’d loved all this time didn’t really exist.


  “There’s more to it than that,” he insisted. “There had to be.”

  “She did it for me.”

  They both turned in unison to see Laurel’s mother standing in the doorway closest to the front door. Embroiled, they’d both forgotten she was still in the house. Laurel’s eyes widened in dismay. “You said you were leaving.”

  “I am. But Cody’s still packing his toys. He’s not taking his video games,” she added proudly. Her eyes shifted toward Trent. Her smile was warm. It was obvious that she felt she had him to thank for that. “Nice to see you again, Trent. And thank you for giving me my grandson back.”

  Compliments always made Trent feel uncomfortable. He focused on what Laurel’s mother had said just before she’d walked in. “What do you mean Laurel did it for you?”

  If he knew, it would only make it seem worse somehow. “Mother, don’t,” Laurel warned.

  “I needed a triple bypass and there was no insurance and no money to cover it. Matt was a billionaire who was used to getting what he wanted and he wanted Laurel. Laurel said they’d have to get married before she slept with him. He was fine with it as long as she signed a prenup that cut her off without a cent if she dissolved the marriage, and left the settlement up to him if he decided to call it off. I begged her not to do it, but she wouldn’t listen,” Grace Valentine confessed. Stunned, Trent could only look at Laurel for a long moment. “You married him so that he would pay for your mother’s operation?”

  When Laurel said nothing, her mother told him, “They used to call that a marriage of convenience, although it didn’t seem very convenient to me.”

  “I wasn’t about to let you die and I couldn’t raise the money any other way.” The distress in Laurel’s voice all but pulsated.

  “Grandma,” a childish voice called from the foyer. “I’m ready.”

  “Ah, music to my ears.” Grace paused to squeeze Trent’s hand. “You don’t mind if I rush away. If Cody comes in here and sees you, we won’t leave for a long time—

  I know how he feels about you—and I’ve got a pot roast in the oven, scheduled to come out. It’s his favorite.”

  Trent nodded. “I understand.”

  “One in a million,” she said, addressing the words over her shoulder at Laurel.

  “Thank you again,” she repeated before raising her voice to respond, “Grandma’s coming, Cody.”

  Trent waited until Laurel’s mother had left the room. The ensuing silence was all but deafening. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked her in a low voice. He was angry. She knew he’d be angry. She had nothing left to give him but the truth. Not that it would help. “Because it was my business. Because it sounded like I sold my body for money. Like a prostitute.”

  What was that old saying? Trent tried to remember. “With a heart of gold.”

  She shook her head, avoiding his eyes. Not wanting to see firsthand what he thought of her. She could guess. “Still a prostitute.”

  Trent took hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

  “Look, I realize that your father did a hell of a number on you, destroying your self-esteem, but what happened in that bedroom when you were ten was not your fault,”

  he underscored. “Any more than the car accident that killed your husband was Cody’s fault. Bad things happen to good people, things that they have no control over, but they—you—need to rise above,” he insisted wholeheartedly.

  “You can’t let it ruin your life. You saw that with Cody. Why can’t you see that with yourself?”

  It wasn’t that she saw herself that way. She was afraid that he did. Raising her head, she searched his eyes. Looked into his soul. He wasn’t condemning her, wasn’t repulsed by what she’d done. Dear Lord, did he really understand?

  She felt her heart racing as hope entered it. Taking a deep breath, she shared something else with him. “He wrote me, you know. My father. He wrote to me.”

  Trent was instantly alert. And troubled—for her. “When?”

  “A few days ago. He sent the letter in care of my mother’s address because he didn’t know where I was.” She’d finally forced herself to read it yesterday. A cold, clammy feeling had descended over her as she’d read the words. “In it, he apologized for what he’d done and he asked me to forgive him.”

  “And can you?”

  She’d gone back and forth a hundred times since yesterday. “He’s dying.” She ran her tongue along her lips. “I should be able to, but—”

  Trent honestly felt that she needed to let this go and put it behind her. Otherwise, she would always be a prisoner of that bedroom.

  “If you forgive him, that shows that you’re better than he is,” he told her quietly.

  “And maybe you can finally move on.”

  Her breath was ragged as it escaped her lips. “Forgiving him isn’t going to help me move on.” She raised her eyes to his, knowing she was risking everything by putting this out there. Trent could still turn her down, say that they needed a breather after all this. But she didn’t want to breathe without him. “Being with you is the only thing that is going to help me move on.”

  And then he grinned.

  She could feel herself responding. Grinning like an idiot.

  “Well then, I guess you just happen to be in luck,” he told her, “because I really want to be with you.”

  It seemed too good to be true. She wanted to be sure, very sure. “You still want me even after you know everything?”

  “I don’t ‘still’ want you,” he said, and her heart fell. His next words brought it back around again. “I have always wanted you, Laurel. Even when you weren’t there. Before you, I didn’t think I could love anyone, didn’t think I could invest myself in anyone because I was afraid. Afraid of the pain of being left.”

  Her eyes misted over. How could she have been so stupid not to realize that he was the best thing that had ever happened to her? “And I left,” she said gently.

  “You did present one hell of a challenge,” he admitted. “But no matter what I did, I couldn’t get over you. Maybe because I didn’t want to get over you. Somewhere inside with all that logic was the heart of an optimist who felt, if he believed hard enough, wanted hard enough, this dream would come true.” He touched her face, caressing it. Loving her. “And you were my dream, Laurel. From the very first moment I saw you.”

  A smile blossomed. That was a little hard to believe. “In fourth grade?”

  He wasn’t about to retract his words. “What can I say? I was mature for my age.”

  She remembered their first encounter as if it were yesterday. She had been shy, introverted to the point that people were always teasing her. “You splashed me with water from the drinking fountain.”

  “Okay, I was semimature for my age,” he amended, as he tucked his arms around her waist and drew her to him. “Marry me, Laurel.”

  Her eyes widened. She wasn’t expecting this. She would be satisfied if he just wanted to remain in her life. “You really want to marry me?”

  “I really, really want to marry you.” He stole a quick kiss before continuing. “That was another reason I couldn’t go on treating Cody. I wanted to propose to you. I want to be his dad, not his therapist.” And then, in case she needed reinforcement, he said, “I love you, Laurel. I always have, I always will.”

  “I don’t deserve you.”

  Her negative view of herself was going to take some work, but he was up to it.

  “Yeah, you do. And I deserve you. What do you say?”

  Instead of answering him, she kissed him, long and hard, until her own head was spinning.

  “No distractions,” he told her when their lips parted. “I want an answer. Yes, or yes?”

  The smile began in her eyes, filtering right down to her toes. “Those are my only two choices?”

  He inclined his head, as if thinking. “Or you can say yes,” he allowed.

  “Then I guess I’ll say yes.”

  “Good choi
ce,” he told her just before he kissed her.

  And her heart, back on speaking terms with her, told her that it was.

  Epilogue

  “You know,” Trent commented as he watched Laurel race past him for the umpteenth time, coming precariously close to the heavily decorated eight-foot Christmas tree that stood in the center of her living room, “I really didn’t think it was possible to do a 10K run in a house—until today.”

  This time, as Laurel zoomed by in the opposite direction, heading for the kitchen to fetch the next covered dish, Trent grabbed her by the shoulders. Laurel moved so quickly, she nearly took him down with the force of her forward momentum. He held on tighter for both their sakes.

  “Whoa,” he ordered, prudently suppressing the laugh that rose in his throat. He knew it wouldn’t have gone over well. “Calm down, Laurel. You’re going to wear yourself out before they even get here.”

  Her mother, God bless her, was entertaining Cody in the family room to keep him out of the way. She was beginning to think she should have asked her to take Trent in tow as well.

  Laurel attempted to shrug free, but failed. “But there’s still so much to do before your family all gets here.”

  She still didn’t get it yet, did she? “Laurel, they’re not coming here for anything that you can ‘do.’ They’re coming here to see you, to spend Christmas Eve here, because that was what you said you wanted,” he reminded her.

  She had to have been insane when she’d said that, Laurel thought. She was actually going to be serving dinner to a family with an award-winning chef in their ranks. What the hell had she been thinking?

  Still, she’d volunteered, no, insisted, so she had to make the best of it. The very best of it.

  “I did. I do,” Laurel corrected, trying to shrug him off again. This time, she succeeded. “It’s just that I want everything to be perfect and every second that you’re holding on to my arms is a second I’ve lost.”

  This time, his eyes held her in place rather than his hands. “Is that the way you really see it?”

  Laurel sighed. She willed herself to relax just a little before she had a complete meltdown. “You know that’s not what I mean. But I do want everything to be—”