She gave a quick laugh.
“Her parents live in town.”
“It’s late. She doesn’t want to disturb them. Good night, Ty.” She moved to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head, put a hand at the back of her neck and changed the kiss from friendly to passionate.
“Night, Sophie. Sleep tight.”
As she walked toward Maggie’s car, its engine running and promising warmth, Ty called out, “I’ll pick you up at one, okay?”
She stopped. “Why?”
“We’ve got a tree to trim.”
Oh, the man was making her hungry—for all kinds of forbidden things. He destroyed the best of her intentions.
In the pale light that filtered through Bubba’s windows, the silent fall of snow turned into whimsical, magical fairy dust.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The boys chased around the house, Trouble at their heels, yipping and trembling with excitement. The scent of warm gingerbread wafted through the rooms.
Christmas music played low, and a wood fire crackled in the fireplace. Boxes of decorations covered every surface in the living room. Ty stood in the middle of it all and grinned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy. So content.
And the difference was Sophie. He stuffed his hands into his jean pockets.
She’d insisted that if they were doing the Christmas decorating thing, they had to go all the way. So while he’d been outside wrestling the tree into a stand and shaking out dead needles, she’d herded the kids into the kitchen. Amazed, he’d let the mix of her soft voice blended with the excited ones of his boys wash over him. Somehow, despite their help, she’d managed to make a huge batch of gingerbread and salvaged enough from licked fingers to spread over the cookie sheets. It was now safely in the oven baking. While she cleaned up the kitchen, the boys went wild in the living room.
After they finished the tree, she and the boys planned to construct a gingerbread house. He wished her luck with that. When she’d arrived today, she’d come loaded with everything they needed to decorate the gingerbread. Red, white, and green frosting. Bags of gumdrops, jelly beans, and M&M’s. Necco Wafers. Licorice ropes. The kids had hopped around her, cheering and clapping like she was the Piped Piper as she’d unloaded her bag of goodies.
From what little she’d told him, her mom would no doubt be labeled ADD in today’s world. The one thing that never varied, though, it seemed, was the fantastic houses she and her mom created every Christmas. Gifts might have been bought last minute, wrapped at the twelfth hour, and holiday dinner two hours late, but they’d never missed making the fairy-tale house.
Tradition. One she was sharing with his boys. His heart played leapfrog in his chest.
She’d even brought them a poinsettia for the mantel and had, with great care, placed a dendritic agate in the pot—to keep it healthy. Totally Tinker Bell. Totally outside his realm.
“Hey, guys,” she called from the kitchen. “Come help me get the popcorn ready to string.”
With a few whoops and more than a little pushing, they descended on the kitchen.
Ty followed them to the doorway. Sophie had insisted, over and over, she wasn’t good with kids. He didn’t believe her for a second. Instinctively, she gave each one encouragement and said exactly the right things. His boys adored her.
He hoped to hell he hadn’t made a huge mistake bringing her into their lives like this. When she left—and she would—would all four of them crash and burn?
Gingerbread houses and popcorn strings. Things Julia had never had a chance to do with her boys. Things the boys had never experienced. Everyone had missed out.
Wouldn’t it be wrong to deny them this little bit of happiness? Next year they’d have Christmas again, in their own way, without Sophie. It was nobody’s fault.
She’d return to Chicago soon. Back to the city where Nathan waited for her. No doubt in his mind that phone call last night had something to do with the creep. It frustrated him to no end she wouldn’t let him in. Wouldn’t share.
Would she be safe? Ty leaned his head against the jamb and closed his eyes. It worried him. He hadn’t kept Julia safe, and he’d lost her.
How had he let his heart get tangled up like this again?
He’d broken his promise to himself.
*
When a car pulled into the drive, Sophie’s pulse quickened, and she glanced at her watch. Whew, the afternoon had zipped by. Babs was already here to pick up the boys.
The front door opened, and cold outdoor air pushed in around Ty’s sister-in-law. Sophie shivered.
“Wow. What happened here?”
“Christmas came,” Jesse cried out.
Josh grabbed his aunt’s hand. “Come look what we made.”
Tossing a smile over her shoulder at Sophie, Babs followed him into the kitchen. “You guys made this?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Sophie helped,” Jonah admitted.
“Yeah, ’cause the cookie sheet got real hot.”
“I put the pretzels in for the fence.”
“I helped with the roof.”
“I squirted the frosting for the snow.”
Listening to the boys, Sophie smiled.
“I think the house was a success,” Ty said quietly, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I think so, too.”
“Thanks for today, Tink. The boys had a great time.”
“And their daddy?”
“He had a great time, too.” Ty wrapped an arm around her.
Babs returned, the boys trailing in her wake, eating leftover licorice ropes.
“So, you guys ready for a sleepover?” Babs asked.
“Yep. Daddy packed us this morning.”
“I’ll bet he did.” Babs sent Ty a mischievous grin.
“Babs,” Ty growled.
“Just saying.” She put on her innocent face.
“Run upstairs and get your things, guys. And be careful.”
The trio tore up the steps leaving three adults in the middle of the Christmas clutter. Boxes of unused ornaments, stray icicles, and half-eaten candy canes were strewn around the living room.
In front of the window, though, the pine tree stood in all its glory, decorated top to bottom.
“Seriously, you sure you want them?” Ty asked. “They’re pretty wired.”
“Which means they’re worn out and will drop off to sleep in front of a movie, right along with my two. Besides, you and Sophie need an evening without them. And I need an evening with them. I love your boys, Ty.”
“I know you do. You’re a great aunt.”
“You got that right. I’m the best.”
“You’re their only.”
“Yeah. Lucky them.”
He shook his head sorrowfully. “I never have understood what went wrong, Barbara Jean. Why you have such low self-esteem.”
She snorted and punched his arm.
When the boys trooped back downstairs, bags in hand, the adults bundled them into hats and coats. Sophie stood in the doorway with Ty, waving them off.
“Thanks for today, Tink. The boys won’t ever forget it.”
She hesitated, then said quietly, “I won’t, either, but we have to remember I’m temporary, Ty.”
“What?”
“This. It’s all temporary.”
His long lashes fluttered, and his gaze met hers, held. “I know that.”
“I don’t want to hurt them. The boys.”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is. You can work from anywhere.”
“My home is in Chicago.”
“That’s simply a matter of logistics.”
“Easy for you to say,” Sophie answered. “The thing is, I’m afraid they’re getting too attached to me.”
“And you to them?”
She nodded.
“Sophie, they have other women in their lives. Babs, my mom, Julia’s mom.”
&n
bsp; “But I’m not their aunt. Their grandmother.”
“No, you’re not. And I can only say thank God, for that.”
The look he sent her had her heart racing. “The more I’m with them, the harder it will be when I leave. For all of us.”
Ty laced his fingers through hers. “The boys never knew their mother.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “She’s a collection of memories, of stories they’ve been told. Of pictures they’ve seen. To them, she’s that star in the sky. You? You’re real.”
“Which is exactly why we probably shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t get more involved. Why I can’t spend even more time with them, then leave. It’s not fair.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He rubbed his earlobe.
“I am, and we both know it.”
“Tell you what.” He drew her to him. “Why don’t we worry about that later?”
“You’re not taking this seriously, Ty.”
“Oh, believe me, I am.”
He kissed her and sent rational thought flying.
When he drew away, she realized how quiet the house was. “Do you miss them when they’re not here?”
“Normally, I’d say yeah. However, in this case, my mind’s on other things.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He caught her lower lip in a light nip, and nerves she didn’t know she had sang a hallelujah choir.
“You okay to go out in what you’re wearing, or do you want to stop by your place so you can change?”
Sophie thought of the soft pink camisole piped in black, the matching panties she had on beneath her jeans and sweater. The set she’d spotted at Maggie’s when she and Annelise had first visited. The ones she’d called Maggie about yesterday that she’d brought with her from Lone Tree last night.
“I think I’m good to go. Unless we’re eating somewhere fancy.”
“In Maverick Junction?” He met her gaze. “Oh, God, Tink.” He caught her close. “I want you.”
“White Christmas” played on the stereo. Dusk had fallen. He glanced out the window and saw the Christmas tree lights reflected in the light snow cover.
“Dance with me, darlin’,” he said.
“Here?”
“Good a place as any.” He laid one hand at her waist and caught her hand in his other, tucking her close.
Sophie heard his strong, steady heartbeat, the crackling fire, the Christmas carol. In the soft light from the tree, they danced.
She’d never before experienced the romance this cowboy showed her.
As the music changed, they continued to dance. They kissed. One led to another and another.
He nibbled at her ear. “Hungry?”
“Starving.” She twined her arms around his neck. “But not for food.”
They practically fell over each other in their hurry to the bedroom. Giggling like a couple school kids, they stumbled through the door.
“I’ll apologize right up front,” Ty murmured, his voice unsteady. “I didn’t expect company.”
The bed was made, but haphazardly. A pair of jeans draped over the back of a chair, a towel heaped on the floor beside it.
None of that fazed Sophie. She could handle a little mess, a little disorganization—especially right now.
What stopped her cold was the photo on the nightstand. The smiling face of a knock-’em-dead beautiful woman with long dark hair.
“Julia?”
“Oh, shit. Son of a— Sophie, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. But it wasn’t.
It wasn’t okay to run head-on into the woman Ty loved. Her breath caught.
Ty dropped her hand, opened the nightstand drawer, and closed the picture inside. “I— The boys wander in sometimes at night to sleep with me. One of them, two of them, sometimes all three. Nightmares. Monsters under the bed or in the closet. A sound outside their window.”
He raked fingers through his hair. “The thing is I keep her picture here for them. It seems to help calm them.” He cupped her chin. “Oh, God, Sophie, I’ve hurt you.”
“No. I understand. Really, I do.” She waved a hand. “But—”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I couldn’t possibly have screwed up any worse if I’d been trying, could I?”
She tried for a laugh, but it came out sounding more like a strangled sob. “You know what? I am hungry after all. Let’s go raid the fridge. You can throw some more wood on the fire. Maybe open some wine.”
He picked up her hand and turned it over, kissing the palm. “I’m so sorry, Sophie.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She kissed him, but the heat was missing.
*
Working side by side, they put together a hodgepodge meal and carried it into the living room to eat in front of the fire. Although she’d insisted she was hungry, Sophie only picked at her food.
Ty kicked himself every way but Sunday. What in the hell had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been. That’s what.
Talk about a wet blanket. He’d dragged her up the stairs into his room, wanting, needing, to tear off her clothes and sink into her. And there, right beside the bed where he’d planned to seduce her, sat a picture of his wife.
What a boneheaded move.
Watching her tear apart her turkey sandwich, he had the sinking feeling he’d destroyed something innocent. Something miraculous. Something he wasn’t at all sure he deserved and doubted very much he’d be able to revive.
She’d been willing to give of herself freely, asking for no promises in return. And what had he done? Crushed her beneath his boot heel.
He was an ass.
An ass who owed her an explanation.
Sidling closer, he removed the sandwich she was busy mutilating and laid it on the plate. When he wrapped an arm around her, she rested her head on his shoulder.
“We didn’t do so well, did we?” she asked.
“I didn’t do so well,” he said. “You’re amazing.”
She tipped her head to look up at him. “So what do we do now, cowboy?”
“I share. Something I probably should have done sooner.”
She placed a hand on his chest. “Ty, you don’t have to. I understand this has to be beyond difficult for you.”
He shook his head. “It’s time. Everybody in town knows the story, so I’m not used to telling it. I’m sure you’ve already figured out there are no secrets when you grow up in a small place like this. No need to explain. Guess I’ve gotten so used to that I’ve forgotten how.”
He stood and walked to the fireplace. Opening the screen, he placed another log on top and watched as the flames leaped up to lick around the edges, consuming the bark. Blues and reds danced over the surface.
Then he dropped onto the hearth and, forearms resting on his thighs, faced her. “I’m not quite sure where to begin.”
She said nothing, simply watched him with those big, gold-flecked brown eyes. How easy it would be to simply lose himself in them, put this off.
But he couldn’t. He’d expected her to open up to him, to share secrets and concerns, but he was holding back, too.
“I can’t actually remember the first time I saw Julia. She was simply always there. In all my memories. There were no secrets, no getting to know each other. It was comfortable. Not in an old slipper sort of way. More like a favorite book. You’ve already read it, you know what’s coming, but you still can’t wait to get there.”
She nodded.
“The grief when I lost her was so devastating, I couldn’t deal with it. I broke. I totally fell apart. I was worth less than nothing, yet I had three babies who needed me. The—and God, this is going to sound awful, but the saving grace for me, and ultimately for the boys, too, was that because they were preemies, they had to stay in the hospital awhile. That gave me time I desperately needed to get my feet under me. To bury their mama.”
He fisted his hands in his lap. “My world was a
dark place, Tink. A very, very dark place. And I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to crawl out of that cavernous hole. I didn’t know if it was worth it. And then the boys came home.
He glanced at her, tears swimming in his eyes. “I fell in love all over again. So I dragged myself out of that dark hole and worked to put together a life for us.
“It’s been over four years. That’s a place I never want to go again. A place I cannot open myself to. Do you understand? It has nothing to do with you.” He thumped a fist on his chest. “It’s me. My fears. I’m sorry.”
She crossed to him, took hold of his fist, and uncurled his fingers, making shushing sounds. “There’s no need to be sorry.”
“I can’t block it out, Sophie. I can’t pretend it never happened. It did, and it changed me. Julia is the boys’ mother. She’ll always be part of our lives, but I’m also beginning to understand it’s time to start a new chapter. She’d kick my ass if she saw where I am right now. She wouldn’t want this for me. But I’m afraid.” He stared into her eyes. “That’s a humbling thing for a man to have to admit.”
“It shouldn’t be. If a person has no fear, he has nothing to lose. Nothing he loves.”
Sophie laced her fingers with his, and they sat quietly.
Finally, he said, “When I look at you, Tink, I get confused.”
He kissed her gently. When he drew away, she snaked an arm around his neck and pulled him back. She kissed him and he fell into the need, the thrill.
He moved to the floor and tugged her down beside him. The firelight flickered over her, accentuating the amber in her eyes, turning her skin into molten gold.
“It’s been a long, long time for me, sweetheart, so I’ve got an awfully short fuse.”
“That’s okay. We have all night for encores if the first movie’s too short.”
“Thank you.” Gazing into her eyes, he said, “I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve you.”
His hand slid beneath her sweater. He had to see her. In one swift move, he pulled it up and over her head. He drew back to look at her, his breath catching. “You’re beautiful.”
He undid the snap and zipper on her jeans and slid them down her legs. Taking in the matching bra and panties, he grinned and traced the edges.
Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) Page 23
