An Unplanned Christmas

by Lizzie Shane

And there was definitely a grudge. Not that he could entirely blame her. He should have told her about Erika. He’d been waiting for the right time—which, in retrospect, was about the dumbest thing he’d ever done in his life.

  Cam climbed out of his Range Rover, trying to put the disturbing conversation with Rachel out of his mind as he headed up his sister’s driveway. There were already half a dozen other cars crammed into the space—which meant he was likely to take shit for being the last one there, but at least he’d be able to slip out early without having to ask anyone to move a vehicle.

  Not that he was already planning his escape—he loved spending time with his family. It was just that lately being surrounded by his siblings and their perfect nuclear families had started to feel more and more like a reminder of his failures. Especially when none of them could seem to stop talking about how awesome his life was. How freaking charmed. He’d even fooled them.

  Cam didn’t bother to knock, letting himself in the front door and shedding his coat and scarf. Voices echoed back from the kitchen and living room, but no one had spotted him yet as he ran a hand through his hair.

  His grandparents had always hosted the family gatherings when he was growing up, but after his gramps passed away and Gran moved in with his parents, his oldest sister Carly had taken over hostess duties. She’d claimed it was because she had the biggest house with the best entertaining space—which was true—but they all knew the real reason was her compulsive need to be the boss of everything.

  “The prodigal son returns!” she called now, spotting him from the kitchen—and he was suddenly surrounded by family, his sisters taking turns hugging him as if he hadn’t seen them all a week ago for Thanksgiving.

  “So I’m the prodigal now?” he asked as he squeezed Carly. She was nearly a foot shorter than he was, with a smile that lit up her entire face and could turn from sweet to wicked in the blink of an eye.

  “You prefer Golden Boy Who Can Do No Wrong? Or Favorite Child, perhaps?”

  He rolled his eyes, jerking his chin to where his mother hadn’t even looked up from doting on her latest grandbaby to note his arrival. “I think my failure to provide grandchildren officially disqualifies me from favorite child status.”

  “Point taken.” Carly snagged his arm, tugging him to one side. “Speaking of popping out grandbabies—”

  His eyebrows flew up. “Are you pregnant again?”

  “God no. After the twins Eddie got the big V. We are taking no chances.”

  Cam cringed in sympathy with his brother-in-law. If not Carly… “So Shelby’s pregnant? Or Ashley?”

  “No. God. No one’s pregnant. This is about you. And your future happiness. There’s this girl—”

  Cam groaned, holding up a hand like a stop sign. “No. Thank you, but no. I do not need to be set up.” He started to move away, but Carly latched onto his arm like a bear trap.

  “She’s a school librarian. Great with kids—”

  He tried to shake her off, but she was a tenacious little barnacle. “I can find my own dates. Women do actually like me, you know.”

  “Yes, but are they the right kind of women?”

  Rachel was. Cam kicked that thought to the curb. He did not need to be thinking about the one that got away right now. Even if she was back in the picture for the next few weeks.

  “I’m sure you can meet lots of women who make Little Cam stand up and salute—” Carly plowed on.

  He cringed. “Please do me a favor and never mention ‘Little Cam’ to me ever again.”

  “—but marrying another woman just because she’s hot sounds like an excellent way to end up with another ex-wife. We all loved Erika, but none of us were surprised when she left.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence.”

  “Don’t pretend you’re offended. You know what I mean. You weren’t surprised either.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Her cancer had shocked him, the divorce not so much.

  Carly plowed on. “You need someone who wants the same things you do out of life. Who values the same things you do. Who is sweet and kind and also happens to be sexy as hell.”

  “Which I suppose describes your librarian.”

  “Of course it does, but that isn’t the point. You don’t have to date my librarian, but you do need to be getting out there—”

  “I get out there plenty.” Bold-faced lie.

  “And thinking about how you’re picking the women you date. Common interests. Shared goals. What’s her five-year-plan?”

  “Wow, romantic.” When she glared at him, he laughed. “C’mon, Carly. You make it sound like a job interview.”

  “You never had these conversations with Erika. That’s how you wound up married to someone who never wanted kids and assumed you didn’t either.”

  Cam didn’t argue that they’d had the conversations—but at the time they’d both been twenty-two and wanting the same things for the distant future hadn’t seemed like such a big deal. He’d always figured Erika would want kids eventually, and she’d always assumed the matter was settled. But even if his big sister had a point about their less-than-stellar communication as a couple, there was no way he was going to admit it to her.

  He cocked his head as if listening. “Is that one of your children crying?”

  “No one’s crying. Stop trying to avoid the subject.”

  “Contrary to what you might think, you aren’t actually the boss of my love life.”

  “But I should be,” Carly declared without an ounce of doubt and Cam couldn’t help but laugh—until his middle sister Shelby appeared at Carly’s side.

  “Did you tell him about the librarian?”

  Cam groaned. “Not you too.”

  “He doesn’t want to be set up,” Carly explained before Cam could. “He wants to find his own soul mate.”

  Shelby snorted as if the idea was ridiculous. “Is that why you’re doing this bachelor auction?”

  “It’s more of an experience auction,” he insisted, trotting out the excuse he’d heard Rachel give that afternoon.

  “You’re doing a bachelor auction, sweetie?” A new voice joined the conversation as his mother appeared, still holding his baby niece, with his youngest sister at her side.

  “You’re never going to find the right kind of girl if you’re auctioning yourself off to the highest bidder like a glorified gigolo,” Carly argued.

  “It’s for charity,” he insisted. “And it’s just batting practice.”

  His mother frowned. “Like a test run? To work your way up to real dates?”

  “No, the date itself is batting practice,” he explained, trying not to read too much into his mother thinking he needed dating practice. “I’m taking the winner to the ball park.”

  “Romantic,” Carly said dryly.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Ashley spoke up for him, catching her daughter as she lunged from their mother’s arms into hers. “Total meet cute material.”

  “This isn’t a rom com,” Carly argued. “He needs someone with shared values—”

  “I’ve never understood why you couldn’t find the right girl,” his mother mused. “You’ve always had so much going for you.”

  Cam closed his eyes as the women of his family continued to discuss his dating prospects. Or lack thereof.

  It was that interviewer from Boulder Life all over again. How are you still single, Cam? When are you going to find the One, Cam?

  It wasn’t like he wasn’t looking.

  Admittedly, Erika hadn’t been the best choice, in the long run, but he was older and wiser now. He knew what he wanted—or he’d thought he knew. He’d wanted Rachel. He’d been completely gone for her and she’d ghosted on him. It didn’t seem to matter how much he supposedly had going for him if the women he got involved with walked away. Like they’d seen through the illusion of his perfect life and didn’t want the reality beneath.

  Though
Rachel hadn’t disappeared for any of the reasons his imagination had conjured up. It hadn’t been because he’d freaked her out by telling her he loved her and she’d decided she didn’t like him after all. She’d left because she thought he was married. Now that she knew the truth…

  Could there still be something there? She’d been angry this afternoon, but that had to mean that he still meant something to her, didn’t it?

  Unless it just meant she hated him.

  “I’m not saying he should marry whoever wins the bid,” Ashley was arguing, louder now. “I just think it’s a cute way to meet some single women who obviously have their shit together and support good causes if they have the money to burn at a Russell House fundraiser.”

  “Money doesn’t automatically mean you have your shit together,” Carly argued. “Look at Cam.”

  “Hey.”

  “Ignore her,” Ashley demanded. “She’s just bitter because you’re going to meet the love of your life at this Bachelor thingy and never want to meet her perfect little school librarian.”

  “I’m not doing the event to meet women.”

  “Of course not. You care about cancer stuff,” Ashley declared with a disconcerting lack of sincerity. “But if you also meet the love of your life—”

  “It’s going to be the librarian,” Shelby insisted. “You haven’t met her, Ash. Trust us on this.”

  Figuring his sisters could easily have this argument without him, Cam sidled away to make his escape, catching his niece automatically as she flung herself into his arms. Gwennie had nothing if not a complete faith that all the adults in her life existed to tote her around and never let her fall—and so far that faith had been upheld.

  Cam propped her diaper-padded butt on the crook of his arm and carried her into the living room where the spouses had gathered with the rest of his sisters’ offspring. At least here there would be no discussion of his love life.

  Or so he thought.

  He hadn’t been there five minutes before Shelby’s husband eyed him over his beer. “So Cam, what’s this I hear about you doing a bachelor auction? You really that hard up for a date? I thought that was the whole point of being a professional athlete—so you never had trouble meeting women again.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be dating some actress in LA?”

  “I heard it was a model.”

  Cam smiled at the good-natured ribbing as his other brothers-in-law joined in. They’d said the right things, all sympathy during the divorce, but they still seemed to believe the rumors that his life was perfect. Which, yes, he encouraged.

  He’d cultivated the image of the Golden Boy, like Carly had joked. The guy everything came easily for—so if he didn’t have something it must mean he didn’t want it, right? Because Cam’s life was charmed. He was a natural athlete—or so he’d somehow conned everyone into believing, even his family forgetting that he’d been cut from his high school baseball team. His love life was perfect—and as long as he kept smiling somehow no one noticed that the four-year illusion of his perfect marriage had collapsed when his wife left him. His image was the biggest fraud in baseball—and no one noticed.

  They all thought he had everything he’d ever wanted.

  But he wanted this. The big noisy, nosy family. The baby girl dropping off to sleep on his shoulder. Something to come home to other than an empty house.

  And maybe doing a bachelor auction wasn’t the best way to meet women—but it had brought him into contact with one woman he couldn’t stop thinking about. A woman he was quickly realizing he wasn’t nearly as over as he’d thought he was.

  He needed to see Rachel again. Maybe just for closure, but maybe…

  He hadn’t had a chance to adequately explain about Erika and the arrangement they’d had during the divorce. He needed Rachel to understand that he’d meant every word he said to her when they were dating. There might be a chance for them yet. And Cam was not the kind of guy who ever gave up until the last pitch in the bottom of the ninth.

  Chapter Six

  By the time Rachel got home, she was ninety percent sure she had to tell Cam about Sofie. The initial flash of anger had dissipated so she could think again. He was Sofie’s father. And, if she believed him, he’d been financially supporting his soon-to-be ex through cancer when they met—which didn’t make him the same breed of lying scumbag her father had been.

  Though that didn’t excuse the lying. Or the fact that he’d actually tried to blame her for the fact that he’d felt like he needed to lie. Or that he’d only seemed concerned with how he got caught and not actually apologetic for the lying and cheating.

  Though she wasn’t entirely sure it had been cheating. Did it still count if you were only faking staying married? At what moment did it stop being adultery?

  Her head hurt just thinking about it as she climbed the steps to the second floor apartment she’d moved into with her mother and grandmother shortly before Sofie was born. She’d needed the support system then, scared of doing the parenting thing on her own, and she’d been reaching for family however she could. She’d even gotten in touch with her father’s legitimate son—which had ultimately turned out to be a good thing, though she’d second-guessed sending that letter to Aaron Cross, Jr. a thousand times.

  He was the image of their father—not just physically, but as a walking picture of success. A tall, handsome, former-NFL player, just like their dad. But he also appeared to be unfailingly faithful to his fiancée. Which was a big difference from their father. She didn’t know of any other half-siblings floating around in the world, but with their father it certainly wasn’t impossible that there were a dozen more.

  He’d probably told each of their mothers that he loved them. That he was leaving his wife to be with them and only them. That he loved those other illegitimate babies just as much as he loved his legal son. That he hadn’t planned any of this, it had just happened, and he couldn’t be expected to be held accountable for any of it. It wasn’t his fault after all.

  Her father. The Great Aaron Cross. Who hadn’t even had the courtesy to survive until she was old enough to be mad at him about all the lies—so now she always felt that awful flicker of guilt when she wanted to scream at his memory.

  She unlocked the apartment and stepped inside, instantly clapping eyes on the reason she needed to stay far away from men like Aaron Cross and Cameron Cole.

  Sofie was strapped into her high chair, shoving pieces of avocado into her mouth—and all over the lower half of her face. Her head turned toward the door and she flung her avocado-covered hands up in greeting, her tiny face lighting up with joy. “Mama!”

  “Hi, baby! I missed you!” She made a beeline for her daughter and kissed the top of her head—the only part of her that appeared to be outside the avocado danger zone. “Is that a yummy avocado?”

  “Mummy!” Sofie agreed emphatically—and Rachel’s heart ached with the strain of containing all the love her sweet girl inspired.

  Yaya moved behind Sofie in the tiny galley kitchen, putting the finishing touches on what smelled like moussaka and smiling in greeting. “Hello, hrisa mou. Good day?”

  “Mm,” Rachel mumbled noncommittally. She gave Yaya a one-armed hug before moving to put her laptop bag down in the room she shared with Sofie—and all of Sofie’s baby stuff. Thank God for organization or she’d never see the floor.

  “I thought this was Mama’s shift,” she called through the open door as she stepped out of her heels and wriggled her relieved toes in the carpet.

  “She had a last minute appointment come up,” Yaya explained.

  Rachel sincerely hoped the “appointment” was an emergency manicure at the salon where she worked and not a date with whatever deeply unsuitable man she’d fallen for this week.

  Since daycare was ludicrously expensive and none of them could afford not to work, Rachel, her mother, and Yaya had worked out a color-coded schedule to show who would watch Sofie at any g
iven time—a strategy she’d stolen from Jane the Virgin, since Jane was her organizational soul mate.

  And because she practically was Jane. If you didn’t count the whole virgin thing. They were both living with their mother and grandmother with an unexpected baby. Though thankfully Rachel hadn’t had to deal with telenovela levels of drama.

  Yet.

  There was no telling what would happen now that Cam was back in the picture.

  If he was back in the picture.

  Could he be back in the picture?

  He’d still be in LA during the baseball season, which was more than half the year. She avoided sports, but she’d learned a little about baseball back when she’d actually thought he might be her future. She knew there were two leagues and he now played for the one that meant he wouldn’t be playing the Rockies as often during the season.

  Would he want them to move to LA so he could see Sofie more? Aaron was there, but it would mean uprooting her mother and grandmother. Could she do that to them? Just for a man who might not even be a good father figure?

  Maybe she shouldn’t tell him. Keep the status quo. This was good, wasn’t it? They were managing just fine on their own. Sofie was happy, and that was all the mattered. Rachel needed to protect that happiness at all costs.

  After quickly changing into yoga pants and a faded t-shirt, she emerged from the bedroom and settled into the chair beside Sofie’s high chair, making faces at her daughter, who grinned delightedly.

  “Your mama didn’t know how long she would be.” Yaya came out of the kitchen with a plate in each hand, setting one in front of Rachel and settling across the table with the other. Sofie’s portion was already sitting on the high chair tray—and being spread across her face.

  Rachel knew she shouldn’t be relieved that her mother wasn’t joining them for dinner, but it was much more peaceful without her. Her mother tended to be a one-woman drama generator and after the day she’d had she didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with her.

  Rachel’s phone binged with a text-alert from her bag in the other room and she grimaced, setting down her fork. “I should get that. I forgot I owe Aaron a text.”