by Susan Gable
The second eye popped open and she stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"
"I'm a stick-in-the-mud. I never kid." He rose, replaced the mug on the tray, then picked up the whole thing. "Your breakfast."
She propped herself up on her elbows to examine it. "Is that real coffee? It smells real."
"Of course."
"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
He smiled broadly. "It's Christmas, Harley."
She eyed him warily and picked up the cup. Inhaling deeply, she took a small sip. "Mmm. Oh, that is heaven."
"And, there's this." He flicked a paper napkin off the small plate with a flourish. "Ta-da."
"Chocolate cake? All right, this is serious. Who are you and where is Jake Manning? Oh, I know what happened. The pod people have invaded Virginia Beach, and you're not the real Jake Manning. He's gone, and now you're here to take over Erie. There's a pod in the basement waiting for me."
"The only pod growing around here is this one." Jake fondled her belly through the comforter.
"Oh, that's funny, thank you very much. You ply me with coffee and cake, and then make fat jokes." Her eyes glinted. "Besides, I'll bet I can find another growing pod right in this room."
He swatted her hand as she reached for his lap. If she touched him, he was done for. "Cut that out. You start that and we'll still be in this bed when the family shows up expecting dinner." He dipped a fork into the cake and lifted a small piece toward her mouth. "Now, be quiet and eat so we can get to the good stuff."
"What's the good stuff?" she mumbled, mouth full.
"Why, presents, of course."
He fed her the cake bite by bite, then returned the tray to the kitchen while she got dressed. The turkey was already in the oven and, luckily, that was his only responsibility for the family meal. Kate and Mel would bring the stuffing, the mashed potatoes and gravy, the vegetables and desserts.
Jake counted out dinner plates, taking them from the cupboard and placing them on the counter. An even number. How nice not to be the odd man out this year.
Harley cleared her throat in the doorway, and Jake turned to face her. The white sweater with blue snowflakes made him smile. "I remember that sweater. That was Mel's favorite while she was pregnant with the twins."
Harley gave him a half smile in return, her hands hidden behind her back.
"What are you hiding?"
"These." She showed him two gift-wrapped boxes.
"Oh great, presents. Are those for me?"
She nodded.
"Well, come on out by the tree, because that's where yours are. And ladies go first."
"No, Jake. I'm not very good at this sort of thing, so I want you to go first." She tentatively held the packages out to him.
The uncertainty in her eyes undid him, as always. He leaned against the kitchen counter. "Okay, you twisted my arm. I'll go first." He accepted the gifts, setting the smaller package on the counter.
"No, open the little one, then the bigger one."
"No problem." He exchanged the two boxes and eagerly tore into the gold wrapping paper. Crumpling it in a ball, he shot it into the garbage can on the other side of the kitchen. He held up the gift. "Refills for my day planner. You shouldn't have." He grinned at her.
She smiled back. "I know, but I figured you'd love it."
The second set of wrapping paper peeled away to reveal a shoebox. Harley chewed on her lower lip while he held the gift to his ear and shook it, then set it on the counter to remove the lid. A model replica of his Mustang lay nestled in white tissue paper. Jake lifted the little car from the box, turning it this way and that, examining it carefully. "Harley, this is wonderful! Thank you."
Her eyes shone with excitement. "Do you really like it?"
"Yes, I do. I think I'll take it to my downtown office and put it on my desk there."
She sighed deeply. "Good." She smiled again. "There's one more thing, but it's out in the garage, and you have to give me a few minutes to get it ready, okay?"
"That sounds interesting. All right, you call me when you're done."
"Okay." She crossed the kitchen, avoiding a few pieces of kibble Benji had dumped from his bowl. Opening the door to the garage, she glanced once more over her shoulder before disappearing to prepare her surprise.
"Very curious," he murmured. He busied himself counting out silverware for the holiday table. Then he searched the cupboards until he found the glass Christmas plate with the candles etched into it. Mel had brought it home during the yard-sale summer—the summer after Bud's death, during which Mel alternately baby-sat and spent her money at yard sales, dragging home piles of stuff that ended up in the basement, the shed, just about anywhere she could find space. That was her way of dealing with the whole thing. Jake hadn't paid a lot of attention to it. Dusty had been the bigger problem, suddenly getting into fights in the neighborhood. Yard-sale junk-collecting had seemed harmless by comparison. Most of the stuff had gone by the wayside, but the Christmas plate became a special family tradition. And Mel would have his head if it wasn't ready for her homemade cookies when she arrived.
"Jake, come out now!" Harley called from the garage. He eased the cookie platter into a sink full of sudsy water and hurried to the doorway.
She'd removed the cover from the Mustang and stood next to it, back ramrod-straight, hands gesturing toward his old car like a model on The Price Is Right. The car glistened beneath the glare from the overhead lights.
"Wow." He hustled down the stairs and began to study the hood closely. "I can see myself." He reached out to touch the polished finish, but Harley grabbed his wrist.
"Don't touch it! Are you crazy?"
He laughed at her. "At times, I do believe I am. The car looks great. What did you do to it?"
"I compounded it out and gave it a wax job. You really neglect this poor car, you know."
"I know." Wrapping an arm around her waist, he drew her close. "Thank you, Harley. They're wonderful presents." He dropped a quick kiss on her lips and caressed her belly with one hand. "And this, this is the most incredible gift anyone could ever give me."
Pink stained her cheeks and she stared at the floor.
"Now, come on. It's time for your presents." He grabbed her by the fingers to tug her toward the door. "I hope you'll like them."
He pulled her through the kitchen and dining room, then into the living room, guiding her to the sofa. With a quick grin, he retrieved two packages from beneath the tree. Santa Claus paper covered the large gift, a box he needed both hands to manage. A smaller box wrapped in silver paper with a sparkling bow was balanced on top of the large one. "We're going to do mine backward. I want you to open the big one first." He set it on her knees and scooped up the smaller one, then stepped back for a more complete view.
She glanced up at him. "This big thing is for me?"
He nodded. "Go on."
With painstaking precision, she slit the tape with a fingernail and gingerly removed the paper.
Jake rocked on his feet. "Hurry up!"
She looked at him from the corner of her eye but continued her process. When the blue-and-red box became visible, her mouth dropped open. A second later, she began to laugh, sending warmth surging through his chest. "Oh, Jake. This is … I don't know what to say, except thank you." She raised it for a better look. "I always wanted one of these. Can we play with it?"
"Of course we can. That's what it's for. I thought we'd set it up on the pool table downstairs." He took the electric racecar set from her and placed it on the floor. "But I get to be Jeff Gordon."
"Ha! Be my guest. I'll blow your doors off no matter who you are."
"We'll see, won't we?" He lowered himself to the sofa and held out the little silver package. He watched anxiously as she fumbled with the paper.
Harley looked down at the jeweler's box resting in her palm. She'd never received jewelry from a man before. The plain gold wedding band he'd given her didn't count. That was part of their cha
rade. Besides, it didn't fit anymore.
She snapped the lid open. Her name, in graceful gold script, twinkled against a red velvet background. She extended one fingertip to lightly brush over it, then caressed the fine gold chain attached to either end. "Jake, it's lovely."
He stroked her cheek, then lightly tapped her nose with his finger. "Just like you. Can I help you put it on?"
"Yes, please." She handed him the velvet box, then turned her back toward him. Gathering her hair into her hands, she lifted it off her neck.
He reached around her, fumbling with the clasp. "There." He followed through with a quick kiss along her spine, and she dropped her hair, allowing it to cascade over him. "Hey!"
She shifted position again, turning to face him. The necklace flashed reflections from the tree lights. "Thank you. This is the nicest Christmas present I've gotten … in a very long time."
He leaned forward to kiss her. "You're welcome. Merry Christmas, Harley."
She clutched the necklace in her hand. "Yes, I believe it is. Merry Christmas, Jake."
* * *
Chapter 13
«^»
The clink of silverware against plates gave way to weary, contented sighs, and the diners pushed their chairs back from the table. Harley stole a peek at Jake as she slipped a few more chocolate chip cookies off the glass platter in the center of the table. He winked at her.
The twins, decked out in red velvet dresses and white tights, ran around the dining room, chattering happily, new stuffed kittens clutched in their chubby little hands. Dusty paced the floor and jiggled Matthew in his arms, the baby alternating between fussy periods of relative quiet and outright screaming. "Kate, I really think you need to handle this." The young father leaned over his wife's shoulder and lowered the baby into her arms.
"It's about that time, anyway," Mel announced, dropping her fork to her plate, then tossing a balled-up napkin at her husband. Peter grinned in response.
"What time?" Harley asked.
"Time for the men to have KP duty. We cooked, they clean."
Harley licked a smudge of chocolate from her finger. "I didn't cook. Does that mean I have KP, too?"
Kate pushed her chair back from the table, gently jostling the fussing baby. "Nope, you're pregnant, you're excused. You can come with the rest of us and put your feet up."
Jake gathered several serving dishes into a pile. "You know, I'm not quite sure how this particular tradition evolved," he complained.
Mel swatted him on the shoulder. "You want to go back to cooking the entire meal?"
"No, thanks."
"All right, then be quiet and clean up."
As Harley rose, a large gas bubble rolled across the top of her stomach and she belched loudly. Cheeks hot, she covered her mouth and mumbled an apology. The rest of the room broke into good-natured laughter.
Mel reached out to rub her tummy. "Baby's fault."
"I shouldn't have had that many cookies, especially after Kate's yummy brownie," Harley admitted. Jake smiled at her and she pointed her finger at him. "No comments from you. It's Christmas," she added smugly.
"Indeed it is."
Mel took her by the arm. "Come on. Let's go into the living room and enjoy the tree. It'll be time for presents soon."
"Presents! Come on!" Grace shrieked. Her shiny new Mary Janes clattered against the wooden floor as she ran into the living room.
"Not yet, Grace!" Mel took off after her daughter.
Harley laughed and followed at a more sedate pace, not wanting to risk upsetting her overfilled stomach. She really had eaten too much. But she'd never experienced a holiday like this and figured overindulgence was part of it.
A small hand tugged on her sweater. "Har-we, Har-we, me want up."
Harley smiled down at Hope. While she liked both little girls, the smaller twin had claimed a special place in her affections. To Harley, Hope was the underdog, and she always rooted for the underdog. "Come here, squirt." She grasped the child under the arms and lifted her, carrying her into the living room.
Mel wrestled a bright red-and-green package from Grace. "I said not yet, young lady." She glanced at the box. "This one's not even yours."
Grace stuck out her bottom lip and her big blue eyes filled with tears. "My present. For me."
"Where's the kitty Santa brought you? How about you play with him?" Mel looked up at Harley from the floor. "Why are you carrying her? Hope, you can walk perfectly fine. Aunt Harley doesn't need to carry you."
Hope stuck her fingers in her mouth and rested her head against Harley's shoulder. The sweet scent of baby shampoo drifted upward. The child in her womb shifted again, and her heart turned over. She stroked Hope's fine blond hair. "It's okay, Mel, I don't mind."
"Let her practice now, Mel," Kate suggested, settling onto the couch with Matthew. "In another few months, she'll have one of her own, and then she'll understand." Kate opened the buttons of her blouse, pulled down the flap on her bra and put the baby to her breast.
Harley watched in fascination as the baby latched on immediately and started nursing. "He looks like he's starving. Doesn't that hurt?"
Kate laughed. "As long he remembers not to use his new tooth, it doesn't."
"Ow."
"Seriously, Harley, it's wonderful." Kate touched the downy fuzz on Matthew's head. "Aren't you going to breast-feed?"
Grace tossed wooden blocks out of the small toy box Jake kept in the corner of the living room and Hope squirmed in her arms. "Down. Me want down."
Grateful for the interruption, she set the little girl on her feet. Hope immediately darted toward the blocks and her sister. Harley strolled to the far end of the sofa and lowered herself into the cushions with a sigh. For several minutes the only sounds in the living room were those of the playing toddlers.
"Are you, Harley?" Mel asked, finally breaking the lull in the conversation, picking up right where they'd left off, much to Harley's dismay. "You really should. It's best for the baby, it's a wonderful bonding experience, and—"
"And it's always ready," Kate added, slipping a finger into the baby's mouth and removing him from her breast. She raised him to her shoulder despite his protests and thumped him on the back.
"What's always ready?" Jake asked as the men came into the living room.
Peter dropped to the floor next to Mel, and Dusty perched on the arm of the sofa beside Kate. Jake leaned against the wall near the entryway.
"Breast milk," Mel informed him. "We were wondering if Harley was going to nurse your baby."
This time it wasn't a gas bubble that caused the weird sensation somewhere between Harley's stomach and her chest. She stared pointedly at the tree, unable to meet Jake's eyes. There wouldn't be a chance for her to nurse the baby. The child cradled within her body would be a bottle-baby out of necessity.
"We don't know yet," Jake said softly.
A hand closed around her knee and Harley looked down into Mel's eyes.
"You don't have to decide now. You've got four months before the baby's born. And you don't have to do it if you're not comfortable with the idea."
Harley nodded. "Thanks, Mel. I guess I'll have to think about it." She didn't want to think about it. She just wanted to forget what would happen when the baby was born and enjoy the rest of her first real Christmas celebration.
"Don't let Jake push you into it, either." Dusty leaned over Kate, who was now nursing Matthew on the opposite breast. He stroked his son's head. "It's a pretty personal thing. I think it's the most beautiful thing in the world, but I'm not the one who has to nurse him."
So there was a soft side to the overzealous cop. Harley hadn't been sure there was anything that marked him as Jake's brother besides the blue eyes.
"You just like it because it means you don't have to do two o'clock feedings when you're not on third shift," Kate pointed out.
Dusty grinned. "There is that."
Kate slapped him on the thigh. The baby released his hold on her breast and
stared up at his mother. "Had enough?" She passed him to Dusty. "You can burp and change him. The diaper bag's in the foyer."
"Yes, ma'am. You know, you're beautiful when you're bossy." Dusty bent over to kiss his wife firmly on the lips.
Kate's cheeks glowed a pretty pink when Dusty released her. "I have to go and pump."
"Pump?" Harley groaned. "I don't think I want to know about that."
Kate laughed, buttoning her blouse. "You're going to get over your body squeamishness real soon, Harley. Don't worry—I'll pump in private. But my husband and I have a big date in a few days, and I need to have enough milk to leave with the sitter."
Husband and wife exchanged a heated glance. For all his bluster, Harley could tell that Dusty was a marshmallow when it came to his wife—or his son.
Mel clapped her hands as Kate left the room. "Hurry back, Kate. Who's ready for presents?"
The twins scampered from the corner, shouting and squealing, and the room dissolved into barely controlled chaos as the little girls shredded wrapping paper and emptied boxes.
Delighted giggles merged with low chuckles and murmurs. The scent of turkey, sage and pine filled the room. Harley lost herself in the sensations. Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back against the sofa.
So this was what it felt like to be part of a family at Christmas. Thanksgiving had been low-key by comparison; this was all-out celebrating. Warmth infused her whole body. She belonged here. She was comfortable here. She finally understood what home meant, what family meant, and how it felt to actually be on the inside, instead of on the outer edge, looking in, like a kid with her nose pressed against a toy-store window. This cozy feeling—this was family.
A full stomach and the sense of warmth lulled her into contentedness, and she dozed off.
Sometime later, a light but insistent pat on her knee demanded her attention. She opened her eyes and raised her head, glancing down to find Hope standing beside her. Harley stifled a yawn and hoped no one had noticed her lapse.
The little girl had her arms around a box almost as big as she was. "Har-we, this for you." Hope dropped the gift on Harley's lap and clambered up onto the sofa to sit beside her.
