by Lisa Plumley
A big smile.
All at once, the importance of the next few moments struck him. What if Katie had regrets? What if he did, when he saw her? What if things had changed…for the worse, somehow? Jack stopped abruptly at the end of the hallway.
Feeling inexplicably jittery, he glanced downward to assess the condition of his casual drawstring pants and T-shirt. He smoothed a wrinkle. Ran a hand through his hair. Checked the effectiveness of his toothpaste. Okay. At least he didn’t smell like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Things would probably be all right.
He rounded the corner. Katie’s smile was the first thing he saw, and it was…beautiful. Just like she was, to him.
Relief filled him. “‘Morning. Sleep well?”
“Hardly a wink.” Her smile widened as she passed some dry cereal to Belle along with a sippy cup. “You?”
“Barely closed my eyes.” Jack kissed the top of Katie’s head. He stroked her hair, plucked out a rogue Cheerio. “Somebody kept me up all night.”
“That sounds like a complaint.”
“Only if we don’t do it again. Soon.”
He captured her cheek in his hand, turning her face upward to meet his. He smiled, then kissed her.
Okay, so his kiss quickly turned into a chair-straddling, hands-delving-into-her-hair, wanton wake-up free-for-all. And Katie quickly caught on to the morning’s mood, fisting her hands in his T-shirt to hold him close and moaning her approval of their coming together. But did that really mean things had changed between them?
Sure it did, Jack figured. Until….
“Mmmm. Belle,” Katie gasped, reluctantly pulling away. She gestured toward the baby, who was happily occupied in her hooked-on infant seat with the challenge of pinching Cheerios between her pudgy fingers and hurling them onto the floor. “We have to think about Belle.”
“Okay.” Jack waved to his cousin. “‘Morning, little Belle. I’ll be with you in a minute. Just as soon as I finish telling Katie how beautiful she looks.”
“Jack—”
“You look so beautiful.”
She shook her head, laughing. “I have cereal decorating my bed-head ‘do, apple juice spilled on my skirt—” She waved her hand toward her short skirt and matching red sweater. “—and no recollection of how to apply eye liner after having gone mostly au naturel all week. You’re nuts.”
No, I’m in love, Jack thought. With you. But he couldn’t say it aloud. Not yet.
“I stand by my opinion,” he said instead, kissing her again. He levered upward from his chair-straddling position and headed for the coffee pot. “You’re just going to have to get used to it.”
“Gee, I’ll try. I may need some practice.”
“Okay. I’ll say it again: you’re beautiful.”
Katie smiled. “Very obliging of you. Thanks.”
Jack returned with his cup of Christmas blend black coffee and settled across the table from her, on the other side of Belle. He sipped. “I aim to please.”
“You do please.”
“It’s the company I keep.” He raised his Santa mug in a salute to her. “It’s easy to please the one you—”
She stilled.
Love! shouted his inner “mushball at heart.” Just say it!
“—really want to please.”
Lame.
Katie’s mouth turned downward, as though she were disappointed. How that could be, Jack didn’t know, because she couldn’t possibly have guessed what he’d been about to say. And also because he was busy kicking himself for having wimped out.
All he knew for sure was that he wanted to make things better for her…yet he wasn’t sure how. Something still held him back.
As it turned out, that something was Katie. Leaving.
“Well, this looks more like target practice than breakfast,” Katie said to Belle. Briskly, she scooted back her chair and stood. “I think it’s time for a bath. And some new clothes. Maybe that adorable Christmas-tree-print dress, huh?”
Gurgling, Belle squished two soggy Os between her palms. She smiled up at Katie when she gently pulled her from her infant seat and settled her against her hip. The two of them together made a wonderful picture.
All except for Katie’s wobbly smile.
“Katie—”
“It’s all right. Nobody said this week had to be perfect. Or perfect for us. So long as Belle’s happy, we’ve done what we set out to do. Right?”
Then, before Jack could so much as disagree, she turned, tugged Belle higher on her hip, and headed for the hallway, disappearing from view.
Waiting for the tub to fill for Belle’s bath, Katie sat on the floor with the baby in her arms and tried not to think of Jack. It was impossible, though. Last night had changed things for her. For a minute there, she’d thought it had changed things for him, too.
It’s easy to please the one you …
“Love,” she whispered now, quietly. “It’s easy to please the one you love. Right, Jack?”
That’s how she’d felt, during their tender hours of lovemaking last night. And afterward, too, while she’d watched Jack sleeping. It hadn’t been an accident that Katie had been the one to get up with Belle. She’d already been awake, trying to savor every minute of time together with the man she cared about most in the world.
“Ahhh gaaaa,” Belle said, patting Katie’s cheek. The baby peered up at her seriously, just like a commiserating friend. “Gaaaa.”
With a smile, Katie sniffed. She blinked back a tear. Even females at opposite ends of the dating spectrum could relate to one another. It had to be genetic. Sort of like a fondness for holiday potpourri. Men didn’t even think about the necessity of holiday potpourri. When every woman knew the proper blend of bayberry, evergreen, cinnamon and cloves was essential to a Christmassy ambiance.
Deliberately turning her mind toward topics both safer and surer than her relationship with Jack (tinsel, tree stars, silver dragees on iced sugar cookies, the “Reggae Christmas” song she loved), Katie finished Belle’s bath. By the time she’d brushed her hair and dressed the baby in a clean diaper and the aforementioned Christmassy little dress, she was feeling just like her old self again.
Well…her old self minus a much-needed fresh manicure and a blow-out at the salon. But that was all right. She felt better, and Katie figured that was the important thing.
Naturally, that was when the other shoe dropped.
She carried Katie into the living room, looking for Jack as she helped Belle into her baby bouncer for playtime. Just as Belle gave her first exuberant jump, Katie spotted him. And knew instantly something was wrong.
“What happened?”
Blankly, Jack stared at the phone in his hand. He fisted the receiver, then blinked at Katie. “That was Gil. The storm broke yesterday. He and Amber just arrived at Sky Harbor. They’ll be here to pick up Belle within an hour.”
Chapter Nine
It was too soon.
That was all Jack could think when he heard the knock on his front door. It was all much, much too soon.
He hadn’t told Katie he loved her yet. Hadn’t explained to her that he understood about her parties. Hadn’t, for that matter, mastered the deft flick of the wrist that meant Belle’s diaper wouldn’t sag to her chubby knees the minute she crawled away. He needed more time. His heart—and clearly, his tiny cousin’s mobility—depended on it.
But time was one thing he didn’t have. That much was evident when he opened the door to Gil and Amber, and saw their eagerness to be reunited with their daughter.
“Belle!” Amber cried, rushing forward in a swell of perfume to lift the baby from Jack’s practiced Fendi-bag hold for a hug. She held her close, smiling. “Mommy missed you sooo much! Yes, I did!”
Gil was there, too, enveloping his family. He spoke gruffly of having missed his tiny daughter, stroked her hair with his hand and tweaked the jingle bells on her booties.
“Thanks for helping us out like this, Jack,” he said. “I don’t kn
ow what we would have done without you. And you, too, Katie. We really appreciate this.”
Katie stepped forward, lugging Belle’s diaper bag. “It was our pleasure,” she said as she held it toward Belle’s parents.
Casually, Gil reached for it. Then he tugged. Finally, he pried Katie’s fingers loose. He gave her a confused glance as the bag came free.
She laughed. “I guess I’m a little reluctant to see her go.”
Katie’s gaze darted toward Jack. In her eyes, he saw more than reluctance to see Belle go; he saw reluctance to end the togetherness the two of them had shared during this pre-Christmas week. He moved toward her.
Amber forestalled him. “Sierra said you’d be a natural with Belle,” she said happily. “I guess she was right. And I guess we’d better be on our way, hadn’t we? We’ve got a lot of family catching up to do.”
Gil agreed. With well-rehearsed ease, he gathered Belle’s pile of pink paraphernalia and began carrying things out to the car. Jack helped, along with Katie. Sooner than he’d have thought possible, Gil and Amber were back in their Lexus, with Belle strapped safely in her car seat behind them.
The sedan pulled out of the drive. Reluctantly, Jack and Katie waved. Belle’s little face turned toward them through the window, then she pulled her fist from her mouth. She clenched and unclenched her fingers in her babyish version of a wave.
He realized how much he would miss her.
An instant later, Jack and Katie were alone, standing beside the unlit luminarias. It was over.
Surely it wasn’t over just like that, Katie thought. She looked at Jack and saw him staring, inexplicably, at the luminarias along the sidewalk. They were unlit and cold; despite the sunshine overhead, the little candle-and-sand-filled paper sacks seemed bleak.
She stepped closer. Their eyes met.
In his she glimpsed a certain preoccupation. Probably, he was thinking of a new design, she realized, or of all the work he’d put off during their week together. Just like old times. Despite everything, disappointment stole through her.
Jack turned, hands in his pockets. He squinted up at the house’s eaves, where they’d strung multicolored Christmas lights—now unlit, like the luminarias. His thoughtful expression seemed to shut her out, as though he had room in his mind for mid-Fifties architectural details…but not for her.
Any minute now, Jack would ask her to stay, Katie thought, biting her lip. He’d remember she was there, and shake his head and smile. He’d put his arms around her the way he had so many times over the past week, and suggest another game of Pin The Nose On Rudolph. He’d offer to serve eggnog in bed, to kiss her beneath the mistletoe…to love her.
A moment passed. Another. Finally, Katie gave herself a mental kick. Quit being such a sucker. This isn’t It’s A Wonderful Life. Neither of you is going to change that much, just because it happens to be Christmas.
Except she had, she thought. She had, because of Jack.
And he hadn’t. Not if his inability to ask a girl for a simple RSVP for the immediate Christmas holidays was any indication. Heavy-hearted, Katie drew in a breath.
“Well, I guess that’s that,” she said, and fished her cell phone from her red-sequined Santa handbag.
She dialed. Maya answered on the third ring. Within minutes, Katie had checked back into her usual social whirl.
Jack followed the phone’s return to her handbag with something very close to animosity. Which didn’t make much sense, really. What had her innocent social lifeline ever done to him?
“Big plans?” he asked.
Katie shrugged. “Same plans. A tree-trimming party. Brunch. Cocktails. The usual.”
“Right. I guess you’ll be wanting your things, then.”
His stiffened shoulders all but begged for a hug. Katie stepped nearer…but Jack turned at the same moment. He went into the house, politely holding open the front door so she could follow him. She did.
There was nothing to say as she gathered her belongings from the bathroom vanity, plucked her half of the matching Santa mug set they’d bought from the kitchen counter, stuffed everything into her overnight bag. What could she say?
Please, ask me to stay came to mind.
So did good-bye.
Katie had trouble with both (a smidge too much pride was her only real weakness). So instead she stood tall in the house’s foyer beside the opened front door, holding her bag, and gazed up at Jack.
“We did pretty good,” she said. “With Belle, I mean. Who woulda thunk it?”
His unexpected grin disarmed her further. It was brief, but potent. Damn, but she wished he’d do something!
“All thanks to you,” Jack told her. “You were wonderful.”
She wished this didn’t have the feeling of a long good-bye. “So were you…Mr. Griiiinch.”
He laughed, just as Katie had intended. Always leave ‘em smiling.
With forced cheerfulness, she held out her hand. “Well, I guess this is good-bye. See you around, Jack. Take care of yourself.”
Jack stared at Katie’s outstretched hand, unable to believe this was happening. Again. How had it come to pass that he was letting her go…just when he’d vowed they should stay together?
He hesitated. He should have been glad, a part of him knew. After all, this was—ostensibly—what he’d wanted all along, wasn’t it? To be left alone, with plenty of time for work. With Katie on her way to her round of holiday parties, Jack would be able to finish the projects he’d had in mind. He’d be able to really make his mark at Brennan Homes.
Except last night, he’d believed Katie. He’d believed her when she’d said everyone knew his abilities were the base of his business success—not his family connections. And because of that, he was changed today.
Sure, it had taken a few kisses (okay, a lot) and some creative (okay, sensual) persuasion…but in the end, Katie’s Christmas gift to him had been an end to Jack’s uncertainty about his work. In light of that fact, spending the holidays cozying up to his computer’s CAD software to perfect new architectural plans seemed wrong.
He and Katie had had a wonderful week. A magical week. He didn’t want to let her go. On the other hand, looking at her now with her cell phone back in business and her bags in hand, she didn’t seem changed by their time together at all.
Evidently, he’d been the only one to feel the deepened connection between them…the only one to fall in love over paper snowflakes and a semi-bald Christmas tree and a bunch of mousse-turned-snow.
Maybe it had all been a product of caring for Belle, Jack thought. Maybe it was baby-induced temporary togetherness that had rekindled their relationship, and not genuine feelings at all. Maybe he and Katie had gotten carried away with jingle-bell gaiety and luminaria-lighting closeness, and their love was only a holiday illusion.
Maybe he’d never know.
He took her hand. Savored the warmth of her skin against his, probably for the last time. Forced himself to speak, in a voice turned suddenly rough. “Let’s get together in a few days.”
Katie bit her lip. She nodded.
“This has been…a crazy time. The holidays—”
“I know, they’re nuts.” Still nodding.
“—and with Belle—”
“Sure.” She waved her free hand. “Of course.”
“In a few days,” Jack went on, “after Christmas, maybe we’ll know how we really feel. Without the baby. In a few days, maybe we’ll be able to say—”
A honking car horn cut off his words. Katie turned her head toward the sound. She waved to the dark-haired woman behind the wheel, who pulled up at the curb alongside Jack’s house.
“That’s Maya. We’re caravanning to the tree-trimming party I told you about.” Katie adjusted her Santa purse, checked the position of her overnight bag, then used her grasp on Jack’s hand to rise on tiptoes. Her lips brushed his, faintly. “I’d better run. Merry Christmas, Jack.”
The warmth of her kiss faded slowly. In a flurry of chee
ry red clothes and a clatter of high heels, she strode down the walk and got into her car. After blowing a kiss—and giving him one last lingering look from behind the wheel—Katie drove away.
Jack gripped the door jamb, watching her car follow Maya’s down the street. It disappeared around the corner.
“Maybe by then,” he finished saying quietly, “we’ll be able to say ‘I love you’…and know it’s true.”
Then he closed the door, and did his best to close his mind to all they might have shared…if only she had stayed.
Chapter Ten
At the tree-trimming party that Friday afternoon, Katie accidentally dropped and shattered an angel-shaped ornament. She burst into tears, right in the middle of “Jingle Bell Rock.” Everyone said they hadn’t realized how sensitive she was about holiday home décor.
At cocktails on Friday night, Katie kicked back one too many peppermint martinis and lurched onstage in her party dress and stilettos for a soulful solo rendition of “Please Come Home For Christmas.” She burst into tears, right in the middle of happy hour. Everyone said they hadn’t realized how powerful a performer she was.
During brunch on Saturday, Katie shocked the entire crowd by turning down her usual Bellini and requesting a Yoo-hoo instead. Then when the waiter brought it (via special delivery from the Circle K on the corner), she burst into tears, right in the middle of the banana-stuffed streusel French toast. Everyone said they hadn’t realized how much she appreciated retro-chic nostalgia beverages.
Katie knew better. It was missing Jack that had gotten her so off-kilter. Nothing—not even the holiday joviality she usually loved—felt right without him. She needed Jack, needed him the way Dasher and Dancer needed Donner and Blitzen. The way a gift wrapped package needed a festive bow. The way gingerbread men needed gumdrop buttons. And he…well, he didn’t need her.
She could wait until after Christmas, Katie told herself. She could stick to the arrangements they’d made, hold out to feel Jack’s arms around her again, to hear his laughter in her ear and feel his warmth all around her. She could.
