All I Want for Christmas is Big Blue Eyes

by Claire Ashgrove

  “Coffee,” Amanda and Lucas answered in unison.

  Unless their preferences had changed over time, they drank their coffee black. He poured three cups and returned to the living room, offering Amanda hers first.

  She accepted without so much as a thank you and set the mug aside to finish taping the gift in her hands. “I’ve got this, Josh. You can go on up and work on your project.”

  Eyes wide, he blinked rapidly. Dismissed? She was angrier than he’d assumed. “I’m fine. I’ve got a little time to spare.”

  “That’s good. I don’t.”

  Resisting the urge to gape at her in shock, he clenched his teeth together. He took a deep breath and reminded himself she believed this was strictly work. Tomorrow, when she fell in love with his creation, he’d be certain to remind her just how cold and rude she’d been.

  He set a hand on her shoulder and bent down to kiss her. When she tried to lean away, he tightened his fingers. Determined, he pressed a soft kiss against her cheek and left.

  ****

  “What the hell was that about?” Lucas asked quietly as he reclined in the corner of the couch.

  “Evidently, Josh thinks work is more important.” She jerked a strip of tape off the dispenser with vigor. He hadn’t even protested when she not-so-subtly insinuated he should leave.

  “More important than?”

  “Everything.” More important than spending time together. More important than the magic of Christmas Eve. More important than her.

  He leaned forward to rub her shoulder affectionately. “Sometimes it has to be, babe. Deadlines hit an’ they’ve gotta be met.”

  Disbelieving, she shook her head as she ripped off another piece of tape. “There’s no deadline for Sandra’s project. Not until after the thirty-first. That’s what he’s working on. That’s what Olivia’s helping him with. That goddamn shopping center.”

  “Oh.”

  Wisely, Lucas didn’t offer any reassurance.

  He couldn’t have, really, anyway. No matter what he might say, Josh’s attitude proved otherwise. He hadn’t argued with her when she goaded him with the family remark. Hadn’t cared to try to come and make amends. Hadn’t even asked her to wrap his gifts for him. He simply didn’t care that she hated his project and couldn’t stand the idea he’d work on it tonight.

  “You know-” She tossed the present under the tree gently and picked up another. “I’m tired of this, Lucas. Tired of taking a backseat to all the other things that Josh thinks are important. Hell, he prioritizes Emma before he considers my feelings. Which, he should—if he intended to be the father she asked him to be. But he doesn’t. Until he’s ready for that level of commitment, I’d think he’d put a little more care into us.”

  “Whoa, slow down. Did you say Emma asked Josh to be her father?”

  Amanda nodded, blinking back a rush of unexpected tears and busying her hands with fitting the teddy bear wrapping paper to the oblong box.

  In a quieter voice, Lucas asked, “What did he say?”

  She ran the scissors down the paper, snipping it off from the roll. “I don’t remember now, but the gist of it was he didn’t care if she thought of him that way, even if he couldn’t be.”

  “’Manda?” Lucas covered her cutting hand with his larger, stronger one. “Stop a minute. Listen to what you just said. Sounds to me like he’s putting a little thought into things.”

  “No,” she argued with a shake of her head. “Not like I mean. That’s putting thought into not upsetting a sweet little girl. It is not legitimate thought about assuming that role. If it were, he’d have sat me down and talked about it.”

  “How many times have you told me that Josh avoids conversations about anythin’ that involve his feelings?”

  Too many to count. But what Lucas couldn’t possibly understand were the little things that, on the surface, looked insignificant. Closer examination, however, revealed much more. Like sex. Josh didn’t ever turn down sex. Tonight he chose work over sex. That alone didn’t raise one red flag of warning, but dozens. Josh wanted Emma. Josh wanted the security of being loved. Josh had absolutely no intention of reciprocating and allowing Amanda inside his heart. What he had was safe and convenient, and he had no need to change things.

  Unless she forced him to.

  Which she intended to lay everything on the line after Christmas. When he made his decision, either way, she’d tell him about the baby. Not a moment before. She refused to say anything that might obligate him in a way he’d come to resent.

  If he chose Kansas City, she’d never dream of keeping his child from him. However, what they shared would come to an abrupt halt. There would be no more nights of amazing sex. There would be no more mornings at the breakfast table. He could visit the baby here or take their child home with him for the weekends. But this…this…arrangement was over.

  If he chose her, no matter how difficult it would be, she’d go wherever he wanted her to go. Kansas City, Phoenix, Italy—Mars for that matter. She’d take Emma and follow him if he found the courage to love. She might hate the city, might hate the very house he picked out. But having him, giving Emma the father she desired, raising their baby together, would make everything right.

  “’Manda, did you hear me?”

  She nodded. “This time, Lucas, those excuses don’t cut it. I’m tired of them too. I want more, and I’m not settling for anything else. I can’t do this any more.” Her voice caught, wavering with unchecked emotion. “I’ve been the only one sacrificing for too damn many years.”

  “Babe.” Lucas paused as he scooted off the edge of the couch to sit beside her. He draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. “I believe you now.”

  With a puzzled frown, she peered up at him.

  “It’s occurred to me, about three weeks after you told me about Emma, and before you went to the doctor, you ranted and raved at me over that couch.” He pointed at the seat he’d just vacated. “I couldn’t go pick it up for you, and you knew I had an appointment that day. Yet I was in trouble for not skippin’ my meetin’ to pick it up and let it sit in the back of my truck in the pourin’ rain.”

  Amanda pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. Measuring her words carefully, she bit back her frustration and calmly asked, “What does that have to do with Josh?”

  He chuckled softly. “’Manda, that argument was as illogical as this one. Go upstairs. Get some sleep. I’ll finish up here.”

  She stood up and retreated up the stairs without saying goodbye. Not because she agreed. She was too furious with his ridiculous logic to speak.

  Thirty-three

  “Mommy, Mommy! Get up!”

  As the bed shook beneath Emma’s frantic jumping, Amanda groaned. She cracked one eye open and glanced sideways at the window. At least it was light out, unlike last year when Emma barely made it to dawn before she had to see her gifts, even if she couldn’t open them until Mae and Lucas arrived.

  “Santa’s been here, Mommy,” she cried. With one furious leap, she emphasized, “Get. Up!”

  “I’m awake,” Amanda mumbled as she rolled onto her back and summoned a jovial grin. Too many hours of tossing and turning through the night, and Christmas morning found her feeling like someone had used her body for kickboxing practice.

  Glancing to her right, she noted Josh’s side of the bed was not only empty, but the covers were also drawn up to the pillow, untouched save for the wrinkles Emma’s feet pounded in. So, he hadn’t bothered to come to bed at all. She checked a frustrated oath and forced herself to smile at Emma again.

  “Is Josh up?”

  Emma shrugged, jumping in place, her long hair bouncing out behind her. “I dunno. Can I go see?”

  Ah-ha. At least Santa out-ranked Josh. Amanda stifled a satisfied giggle.

  “Can I get Aunt Olivia too?” Emma bounced some more, this time bending her body to jump side-to-side.
/>   “Stop jumping on my bed, and you can.”

  “Okay!” With one flying leap, she bounced onto the floor and dashed out the door, her bare feet slapping against the wood.

  Amanda rolled out of bed, her back protesting. She massaged the sore muscles she could reach, then raked her fingers through her hair before she stretched her arms over her head. Yawning, she trudged into her bathroom to splash water on her face and eliminate the scratchy feeling behind her eyelids.

  The cold douse worked, however, it did little to eliminate the black mood that still hung around her. What a way to begin Christmas morning. Forget cuddling up in bed and a kiss or two. Josh might as well not be here at all. Even with him in the house, this morning was no different than any of the last ten Christmases she’d spent without him.

  Exiting the bathroom, she glanced at her alarm. Nine o’clock. Mae and Lucas would be here in two hours. She had roughly four until dinner. Thank God, she’d set the timer on the oven for the ham. As it was, she had just enough time to make her sweet potato casserole, some butter horns, and an apple pie. Mae would bring a cold salad and stuffing.

  “Slow down, Princess. Let’s wait on your mom.” Josh’s voice rumbled in the hall. “Honey?” He poked his head in the door. “Just a minute, Emma.”

  Entering Amanda’s bedroom, Josh closed the door behind him and made his way to her. Still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, dark circles edged his eyes, and his expression held a touch of weariness. Yet it didn’t stop him from giving her a smile that went straight to her heart and shot sparks down to her toes.

  He framed her face between his palms and dipped his head, feathering his lips across hers. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he murmured before he settled his mouth on hers and drew her into a slow, leisurely kiss that left her gasping for air and had her heart dancing against her ribs.

  Drawing away, he slid his arms around her waist and drew her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I upset you last night, and I’m sorry I wasn’t here to wake up beside you. You’ll see why, later. You’ll like what Olivia and I did.”

  God, how did he know exactly what to say to make everything right? She snuggled into his embrace, inhaling the faint scent of his musky cologne. “Merry Christmas, Josh.” She tipped her chin up to look at him. “I don’t want to hear another word about that project today. Deal?”

  He nuzzled his nose against hers playfully. “I’ll do my best.”

  “We better go downstairs before Emma loses all her patience.”

  With a nod, he released her. “Let me throw on something else real quick. All right if I shave later?”

  “As long as you’re groomed for dinner,” she answered with a grin. Perching on the edge of the bed, she watched as he peeled out of his jeans.

  His dark blue cotton boxers hugged tight buttocks and brushed against his muscular thighs. Just right. Perfectly right. Straight out of a magazine. How’d she get so lucky?

  He stripped off his shirt, tossed it on the floor, and she admired the hard, broad plane of his back. As he dug through his suitcase for another, his muscles bunched and pulled, strong sinews that defined power. Tugging out a dark green Henley, he turned around, giving her the most exquisite view of his equally broad chest and the chiseled lines of an eight-pack abdomen that clenched as he pulled the shirt over his head.

  Her hands itched to roam, to feel the corded lengths of muscle beneath her palms and savor the smoothness of his bronzed skin.

  She wound them together in her lap with a deep breath. That would only get her into trouble with her daughter, if the half-mast state of his cock meant anything.

  “Baby, you’re staring,” he whispered.

  “Mm-hm. I am. Turn around again.”

  Chuckling, he obliged, but spoiled the view with a teasing waggle of his butt. “Better?”

  “You’re impossible, Josh McDaniels.”

  He stepped into faded blue jeans and grinned at her. “You can stare all you want when our company leaves tonight.”

  A sultry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she tried to keep her giggle under control as she asked, “Can I touch?”

  “Honey, you can do whatever you want. It’s all yours.”

  Shivering, she closed her eyes and let out a delighted sigh. Hers. That sounded good. So damn good.

  But for how long?

  The undesired thought snuck into her mind, tainting her mood. She pushed it back with force. Not today. She wouldn’t allow her insecurities to spoil the first Christmas she’d had with him in ten years.

  He offered his hand.

  She twined her fingers with his.

  Brushing a kiss across her cheek, he pulled her to the door.

  “Are you ready yet?” Emma huffed, her little arms crossed in indignation.

  “Yes, sweetheart,” Amanda answered on a chuckle. “Where’s Olivia?”

  Josh avoided eye contact as he answered, “Finishing up that project. She’ll join us in a little while.”

  The project again. Good Lord, how important could one stupid blueprint be? Particularly one for Sandra.

  Pursing her lips, Amanda pulled her hand from Josh’s and followed Emma down the stairs.

  ****

  Emma skidded to a stop in the doorway between the front room and the dining room, her eyes as wide as saucers and a squeal of delight falling from her lips.

  Josh followed her gaze. Lit up in bright colors, the Christmas tree sparkled brightly from the wide, thick, lower branches all the way up to a glittering silver star. Tinsel clung around it in loose loops, shimmering with silver and gold. Though he’d looked at the tree countless times in the last five days, it had never looked quite as beautiful.

  Or made him feel quite as warm and fuzzy inside.

  Spread out almost to the middle of the room, bright packages piled under the evergreen boughs. Colorful bows accented unwrapped toys—a large stuffed panda, a pink bicycle near the window, a small Bratz dollhouse already set up.

  A hearty aroma of cooking meat filled the entire downstairs and added a touch of coziness to the wintry frost that clung to the windowpanes. The house was silent, yet at the same time, activity and excitement hung around them.

  On the mantel above the gas fireplace that someone left on all night, stockings overflowed with candy. He counted them, guessing the owner by the pattern. Poinsettias for Amanda, a vintage Christmas pattern for Mae, Santa’s Workshop for Emma, Reindeer for Lucas, and a fifth one, decorated with snowflakes. Five, not four. He glanced at Amanda. She’d included him, and the discovery brought home the reality of where he was. Whose front room he stood in. The town, the people he loved most. Amanda.

  She gave him a soft smile, and he reached for her hand, unable to tolerate the distance a moment longer. When she slid her fingers into his, he pulled her over in front of him, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

  “Go ahead, Emma,” he instructed.

  Emma whirled about, surprise written in her angelic features. “Can I, Mommy?”

  Amanda chuckled as she tilted her head to look up at him. “We usually wait until after Mae and Lucas arrive.”

  Not as long as Josh had a say in things. Forcing a little kid to wait on Christmas morning defined the word torture. It was time to start some new traditions. He pressed a kiss against the side of her neck. “Do you think she could open a few, maybe?”

  “I don’t suppose they’d mind. Find something from me, and from Josh, under there, Emma.”

  “Two somethings each,” he added.

  As Emma dove into the gifts, he pulled Amanda to the couch and down into his lap. Emotion welled, tightening his chest fiercely. This was how it ought to have been all along. Christmas together, their daughter squealing with glee, shaking packages as she tried to find the right one to open first.

  He kissed Amanda’s shoulder, cutting off the burning need to confess his love for her, for the both of them. Just a li
ttle longer. He could wait a few more hours.

  “This one!” Emma held up a red and green plaid package triumphantly. She fell to her knees, ripping open the paper, letting it fly behind her. In two seconds, she had the package exposed, and let out a shrill gasp. She turned, proudly showing off a box with a brightly-colored seashell castle. The Disney Princess bath toy he’d picked out.

  “Thank you, Josh!” she exclaimed, beaming.

  It took only moments for Emma to pick out the other three gifts she wanted to open, and seconds longer to unwrap them all. When she finished, she had a package of twin Bratz, a box of miniature dogs with buggy eyes that the box called Littlest Pet Shop—whatever that was—and a luxury jet for her beloved Bratz dolls, the latter she’d picked out on their excursion to Wal-Mart.

  “Okay, you two,” Amanda said as she slid out of his arms. “Lucas and Mae will be here in about an hour and a half. I’ve got to start our dinner.”

  He pulled her back down for a quick kiss. “It smells good already. Holler if you need anything.”

  She gave him a quick nod and a soft smile and meandered into the kitchen. As the sounds of clanging pans and clattering silverware filtered in to the main room, he dropped down on the floor beside Emma. “Merry Christmas, Princess.”

  Turning her angelic smile on him, her blue eyes glittered like sapphires. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

  Dad.

  His stomach bottomed out. Damn. He’d never have believed one word could carry so much power or provoke such strong feelings.

  “Why don’t you hand me that jet? I’ll put it together for you. You can tell me about those twins. Are they related to Yasmin?”

  She giggled. “No. They’re just friends.” With a roll of her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe he’d just asked something so ridiculous, she handed him the boxed jet.

  He opened it with care and fit the few small things onto the otherwise intact jet. Pushing a button, lights came on, and some rock song he’d never heard before blared from a tiny speaker. Not bad for a doll’s accessory. From what he remembered of Olivia’s Barbies, the most exotic toy she had was a toilet that flushed. Even it didn’t have any real working parts inside.