All I Want for Christmas

by Gina Wilkins

She dialed the number he’d given her in case she needed him. He wasn’t home. His recorded voice politely requested that she leave a message if she wanted her call returned. She hung up without speaking.

  “What’s wrong?” Cathy asked, studying Ryan’s face.

  Ryan explained. “She didn’t sound overly concerned about the children,” she added when she’d summarized the call. “She seemed more worried about how this would inconvenience her.”

  “Sounds to me like she’s thinking of giving them up,” Cathy said, keeping an eye on the two customers browsing through the merchandise.

  Ryan bit her lip. “I thought so, too,” she admitted.

  “Well? Are you going to try to adopt them?”

  Ryan tensed. “Me?”

  “You aren’t going to let them go to strangers, are you? They’re such sweet kids. What if they go to someone who isn’t good to them?”

  Ryan twisted her hands. “You think I haven’t considered that? I’m worried sick about them, Cathy. But—”

  “So keep them. Nick’s a lawyer. He can pull a few strings.”

  “But would that really be best for them? Pip and Kelsey need two parents, not a single mother with a full-time business to run.”

  “Lots of single mothers hold outside jobs,” Cathy said with a shrug. “You’ve been managing this past week, haven’t you? And this is your busiest time of the year, businesswise.”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “Could you support the kids?”

  “I could probably swing it,” Ryan conceded. “Money would be a bit tight, of course, but other single parents manage. I just don’t know if it’s the right thing to do. For any of us.”

  “It’s something to think about, anyway,” Cathy said. “Think about whether you really want to take on that commitment—and whether you can live with yourself if you don’t.”

  Ryan winced. “That’s a bit blunt.”

  “I know you, Ryan Clark. You aren’t happy unless you’re doing something for someone else. Those kids need you. And to be honest, I think you need them, too.

  “And besides,” Cathy added with a sudden, impish grin. “Who said you’d be a single parent for long, hmm? That gorgeous blonde who’s been hanging around you so much the past couple of weeks isn’t just interested in those kids.”

  Ryan was furious with herself for blushing. She was greatly relieved when one of the shoppers approached, carrying a number of fashion doll accessories.

  But throughout the day Cathy’s words echoed through Ryan’s mind.

  “ARE YOU SERIOUS about this, Ryan?” Nick asked later that evening, having unexpectedly dropped by her apartment just before the children’s bedtime. He’d explained that he’d wanted to meet the kids, after hearing so much about them.

  Ryan had noticed that both Pip and Kelsey reacted positively to her older brother, if not with the same enthusiasm they’d shown Max from the beginning. Now the children were in bed, and Nick and Ryan were talking over coffee in her kitchen. He wasn’t smiling as he studied her across the table. “You’re really thinking about trying to adopt these children?”

  “I said it was something I was considering. I don’t even know if it’s possible. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first.”

  Nick took a few minutes to think before answering. “It’s possible, of course, assuming the aunt agrees,” he said finally. “This state allows for privately arranged adoptions—I’ve handled a couple of them myself. But you’d have to be prepared, Ryan. It wouldn’t be easy. The courts would still have to approve. And with you being young and single…”

  “Other single people adopt children. Especially older children, like Pip and Kelsey. Most married couples want babies, isn’t that right?”

  “Usually,” he agreed. “But I still don’t want you to get your hopes up or to think that it’s a snap to arrange. You should take a lot of time to think about this, Ryan.”

  “I’m not sure I have a lot of time,” she said worriedly. “You didn’t hear her, Nick. She said she didn’t want the children—either of them. She never did.”

  “But do you want them? Really want them, I mean? When it comes down to it, you hardly know them. You met them—what? Two weeks ago?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, “but—”

  “You’re a single woman with a business to run and your whole life ahead of you, Ryan. Are you sure you’re ready to sacrifice your freedom to raise two children who already have more than a few emotional scars? Are you sure you know what you’d be taking on? What you could be giving up?”

  Ryan sighed. “I didn’t say I thought it would be easy. But right now it doesn’t seem such a sacrifice. You’ve met them. Can’t you understand how hard it would be for me to just walk away from them?”

  “Yeah,” he agreed wryly. “Especially knowing you as well as I do.”

  “Everything really depends on Essie Smith,” Ryan murmured, staring into her half-finished coffee. “And she won’t be here for several days yet.”

  “That gives you more time to think about this.”

  She nodded. “But it wouldn’t hurt for you to be looking into it in the meantime, would it? Just in case?”

  “I’ll look into it,” he promised.

  “And Nick—don’t mention this conversation to anyone, okay? Not to Dad or Juliana or—or Max. I’m not ready to discuss it with anyone else yet.”

  Nick studied her face. “You don’t think Max would be interested in hearing about this?”

  “I’ll tell him if—when I decide the time is right.” She met his eyes squarely. “You won’t say anything?”

  “I won’t say anything,” he promised.

  She relaxed—at least, a little. “Thank you.”

  BY LATE SATURDAY, Ryan was beginning to wonder if Max had left town without saying goodbye. Three times she’d tried to call him; the last time she’d even left a message on his machine. She hadn’t heard from him since he’d kissed her and then left so abruptly Thursday evening.

  Had Kelsey’s unintentionally intrusive call for a glass of water made him realize how wrong he and Ryan were for each other? Did he suspect that she was becoming overly attached to the children, that she was ready for parenthood in a way that he was not? Had that scared him away?

  If so, then good riddance to him, she told herself irritably. Hadn’t she told herself all along that she didn’t intend to get involved in an affair with him? If an affair was all he wanted, then fine. He could go.

  So why did it hurt so much to think that she wouldn’t see him again?

  She’d been home less than an hour that evening when Max knocked on her door.

  He looked tired, she thought when she first saw him. His dark blond hair was tousled, his eyes a bit shadowed. But his smile was as devastating as always.

  “Hi,” he said, his voice gruff.

  She stood holding the door, torn between an impulse to walk into his arms and another to shut it in his face.

  “Hi,” was all she said in return.

  “May I come in?”

  She hesitated only long enough for him to notice, and then she stepped aside. “Of course.”

  “Max!” Kelsey ran straight into his arms, her little face glowing with pleasure. “Where’ve you been?” she demanded.

  Holding her on his hip, her arms clasped around his neck, Max seemed to be studying Kelsey as he smiled at her. Ryan was aware of the differences he saw in the child from the first time he’d met her at the mall just two short weeks ago.

  Kelsey was wearing one of the smart little outfits he had bought her, an oversize navy-and-red-plaid sweatshirt with red leggings and the new black shoes Ryan had picked up for her the other day. Ryan had carefully trimmed Kelsey’s fine, white blond hair into a soft halo of curls, which she’d decorated that morning with a jaunty red bow. Kelsey looked healthy and happy, like an average six-year-old.

  Pip stood nearby, waiting his turn to greet his idol. His sandy hair had been trimmed, too, though he’d re
jected any trendy styles in favor of a conservative short cut. He wore a white sweatshirt with the picture of a popular television superhero printed on the front, new jeans and new sneakers. Ryan had made sure he’d had plenty of sleep during the past few days, as well as regular meals, and he, too, looked healthy and relaxed.

  Anyone seeing him for the first time would see a normal, if rather quiet, nine-year-old boy, Ryan thought with a faint pang. Only those who knew him well—like her, and maybe Max—would see the faint shadows of insecurity at the back of his blue eyes. Pip was more keenly aware than Kelsey that their future still hung in the balance, that their present circumstances were only temporary.

  Though Pip didn’t speak of his concerns, Ryan couldn’t help wondering how much time he spent worrying about the future. As much as she did, probably. The boy was like that.

  Max finally got around to answering Kelsey’s question about where he’d been. “I’ve been working, Kelsey,” he explained, without looking at Ryan. “I’m on a deadline.”

  “What’s a deadline?”

  “I know what it is,” Pip interrupted, eager to show off his knowledge. “It’s a date when you have to have something done. Do you have a deadline for one of your books, Max?”

  Pip had been terribly impressed to learn that not only was Max a published author, but—even more awe-inspiring—that there would be a movie made from one of his books.

  Like many Americans, Ryan had thought wryly, Pip thought a truly good book was one that could be successfully adapted by Hollywood.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a deadline,” Max answered lightly, setting Kelsey on her feet. “I might even meet this one. Which would be a pleasant surprise for my editor.”

  “We were just about to order a pizza,” Ryan told Max. “The kids wanted a special treat for Saturday dinner. Do you have a request for a topping?”

  “Extra cheese,” he said, still watching her a bit warily.

  She nodded. “I’ll call in the order. Pip, tell Max how well you did on your history test yesterday. I’m sure he’ll be very proud of you.”

  She went into the kitchen to use the phone, leaving Max trying to listen attentively as both Pip and Kelsey chattered to him at the same time.

  Only when she was alone in the other room did she acknowledge to herself how very glad she was that Max had returned.

  THEY SPENT THE EVENING eating pizza, playing board games and talking nonsense. The kids seemed to have a wonderful time.

  Max and Ryan smiled and chatted easily enough, but Ryan was aware of the underlying tension between them, as she knew Max must be.

  She let the children stay up a bit past their usual bedtime, but when she saw Kelsey yawn and rub her eyes, she knew it was time to call it an evening. She sent them off to wash up, brush their teeth and change into pj’s, telling them they could take their baths in the morning.

  At their request, Max helped Ryan tuck the children in. He settled them into their beds with smacking kisses and giggle-inducing tickles, then stepped aside to watch as Ryan smoothed the covers over them and kissed them good-night.

  Kelsey came off the pillows unexpectedly as Ryan started to move away. Her little arms locked around Ryan’s neck. “I love you,” she said clearly, sweetly.

  Ryan’s heart quivered. She pressed her cheek into Kelsey’s soft curls, holding the warm little body close to her own.

  “I love you, too, sweetheart,” she murmured huskily. “You and Pip.”

  Reluctantly, she loosened her arms and settled Kelsey back into the pillows. “Go to sleep now.”

  Max was watching her when she turned to leave the room. He motioned for her to precede him.

  She turned back to face him when they were in the living room. “Now do you understand,” she asked him quietly, “why I can’t just give them up?”

  “Yes,” he said, and his eyes were grave. “I understand.”

  He didn’t stay much longer. “Are you working tomorrow?” he asked as he prepared to leave.

  “No, I’m taking tomorrow off to be with Kelsey and Pip. We thought we’d go to the children’s museum and maybe out to a nice restaurant afterward.”

  “Do you mind if I join you?”

  She was surprised, but she hid it. “I thought you had a deadline.”

  “Yeah. But I’d rather be with you. And the kids, of course,” he added quickly.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and nodded. “Then I—we’d love to have you join us,” she said.

  He kissed her then—a slow, lingering, undemanding kiss that left her feeling warm and tingly, and aching for more. And then he was gone.

  “YOU HAVE a very nice family, sir. Such well-behaved children. You must be very proud of them.”

  Murmuring a response, Max reacted with decidedly mixed emotions to the waiter’s low-voiced words. It wasn’t the first time that day that he and Ryan and the children had been accepted as a family. It had happened several times at the children’s museum, and now at the end of a leisurely dinner in one of the area’s premier Italian restaurants.

  The children had been on their best behavior—polite and agreeable, eagerly open to new experiences. Ryan had made sure they looked nice—Kelsey in her red dress with the big white collar, white tights, black shoes, a red-and-green-plaid Christmas bow in her hair; Pip looking quite grown-up in a white shirt, a red sweater and navy slacks.

  Ryan, of course, looked beautiful. She, too, had worn red—a long, figure-fitting dress of a soft, cashmerelike knit. Her dark hair was loose around her face. Cheery Christmasy jewelry sparkled from her ears, and the matching pin at her shoulder. Her hands were bare of rings, but that had apparently been overlooked by the strangers who’d assumed they were a family.

  It occurred to Max that he’d like to have a photograph of the three of them, looking just as they did now. Like they belonged together.

  If he tried really hard, he could almost imagine himself in the photograph with them.

  Which, of course, scared him silly.

  “Sir?” the waiter repeated, a bit louder this time. “Would you like to order dessert?”

  “Oh, uh—yeah, sure,” Max said, blinking and looking at the children. “You guys want dessert, don’t you?”

  “Ice cream,” Kelsey said promptly.

  “I’d like to see a dessert menu, please,” Pip said, trying to sound sophisticated.

  The waiter smiled. “Of course, sir.”

  Max allowed his thoughts to drift again as Pip and Ryan studied the menu and debated the relative merits of fruit-topped cheesecake or a sinful-sounding spumoni concoction.

  He’d tried to stay away from this engaging trio. For almost forty-eight hours, after leaving Ryan Thursday evening, he’d paced his apartment, reminding himself that he wasn’t interested in getting tied down. He wasn’t the kind of guy who wanted commitments and obligations.

  Did he really want to end up like his grandfather and his father—trapped in demanding, joyless relationships, sacrificing their freedom, their sense of adventure, their individuality to try to live up to society’s expectations of sensible, responsible family men?

  And then he remembered the way Ryan had felt in his arms. The taste of her. The deep-seated, undeniable goodness of her.

  He’d never met anyone quite like her before. And he wasn’t sure he ever would again.

  And those kids…damn, but they got to him. Worried him. Made him wonder if some responsibilities would really be so bad, after all….

  The dessert discussion seemed to have been settled. The waiter vanished, and Ryan and Pip sat back, anticipation in their satisfied smiles. Kelsey took a sip of her soft drink and then dabbed daintily at the corners of her mouth with her napkin, the way Ryan had taught her.

  He’d really like to have a photograph, Max thought again. Just to look at when they weren’t with him, to remember how much he’d enjoyed this day.

  MAX HELD RYAN in his arms, his mouth hovering an inch above hers, his breathing ragge
d as a result of the kisses they’d already shared. The children had been in bed for almost an hour, and Max had been telling himself he’d go any minute now….

  Just one more kiss, he’d promised himself.

  That had been almost a dozen kisses ago.

  “I really do have to go,” he said with a groan, unable to tear his gaze away from her heavy-lidded eyes, her soft, kiss-darkened mouth.

  “Yes,” she whispered, though she seemed in no hurry to draw herself out of his arms.

  He brushed his lips across the end of her nose. “It isn’t easy to leave you,” he murmured.

  She looked up at him a bit shyly. “It’s not?”

  His mouth twisted ruefully. “No. What I really want to do is pick you up, carry you into your bedroom, lock the door and make love to you for days.”

  “I…” She stopped to inhale. Her cheeks darkened. “Oh.”

  He smiled, though he knew it was a strained effort. “Is that all you have to say? ‘Oh’?”

  “You have to know it sounds tempting to me,” she said quietly. “But under the present circumstances, it doesn’t seem very likely.”

  “Because of the kids?”

  “Partly,” she agreed. “But mostly because of me. The way I am. What I need from a relationship. Even if the children weren’t involved, I would have to have more than sex from any relationship. I’m not sure you’re willing to offer more.”

  He sighed in resignation. “I was afraid you would feel that way about it.”

  “I always have, despite what happened between us before. This isn’t something I take lightly, Max. I can’t.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, putting a couple of inches distance between them. “You take everything very seriously, don’t you?”

  She took a deep breath, and he sensed that she was going to share something important with him. Something that would help him understand her.

  “I told you I almost died in a car accident when I was almost eighteen,” she began.

  He nodded, remembering.

  “My boyfriend was killed in that accident. We’d known each other since kindergarten and had been a couple for as long as I could remember. We were still just kids. We hadn’t progressed beyond the kisses-in-the-dark stage of our relationship, but we were in love. I don’t know if it would have lasted—I never had the chance to find out.”