His Last-Chance Christmas Family

by Michelle Major

  “Would Remi still come to live with us if Dad was alive?”

  The possibilities of what the future might have held if Daniel hadn’t died ricocheted through Brynn like a bullet, tearing flesh and wreaking havoc on her insides. She kept her features neutral as she met her son’s open gaze.

  There was no anger or bitterness in his dark eyes. Only curiosity, as if they were riddling out a puzzle together.

  “I’m not sure what would have happened, but she’s your half sister. That wouldn’t have changed.”

  “Mike DeMarco has a little sister. She’s three and always messes with his Legos. She destroyed the Millenium Falcon he built, and it took him like a gazillion hours to finish it.”

  “We’ve got some time before Remi could get into your toys, and we’ll make sure to put up anything that’s special to you, so she knows not to play with it.”

  Tyler’s mouth dropped open and he sat up straighter. “Oh, no, Mommy. We have a big problem.”

  Brynn braced herself. She suspected Tyler’s easy acceptance of the news that Remi was his sister might have been initial shock and not his true reaction to a massive shift in both of their lives.

  “Tell me.” She nodded. “You can talk to me about any problem.”

  “Will Santa Claus know to find her here?”

  Brynn blinked, then blew out a surprised huff of laughter. “Yes,” she assured him. “Santa Claus will know.”

  Tyler took a big bite of his sandwich and asked around a mouthful of food, “How?”

  “Um...” Brynn’s gaze caught on Santa’s jolly face grinning at her from the dish towel that hung over the handle of the oven. She decorated for the holidays in every room and had probably gone overboard this year, wanting their house to be festive and happy no matter how she felt on the inside.

  “The elves will update him,” she said finally. “They keep track of all the children around the world.”

  “Do you think Remi has sent him a letter?”

  Brynn shook her head. “I don’t think babies send letters to Santa.”

  “Then how will he know what to bring her on Christmas? Like he’s going to know that I want Legos and a remote control race car and a microscope.”

  “Hold on.” Brynn held up a hand. “I don’t remember seeing a microscope on your list for Santa.” They had a tradition of writing the letter on the day after Thanksgiving. This year it felt like Tyler had taken an especially long time to come up with his list and asked her several times if she thought the items on it might be too expensive.

  His concern just about broke Brynn’s heart. She’d assured him that the gifts on his list were well within Santa’s capabilities and the look of relief on his face was both comical and disturbing. She knew it was only a matter of time before he stopped believing in that particular part of the magic of Christmas. And while it would be a relief not to go through the trouble of hiding gifts and secretly shopping, she wasn’t quite ready to check that childhood milestone off the list.

  “I added it at the last second before we sealed the envelope and mailed it.” He looked embarrassed and a little concerned. “Max stood up in math a couple of weeks ago and yelled out that there’s no such thing as Santa. He made Juliana Dalton cry.”

  “That wasn’t very nice.” Brynn felt her eyes narrow. She’d like to have a word with Max. “What did you think when he said that?”

  “I thought he was a big fat liar,” Tyler confided, tearing the crust off the end of his sandwich before taking a final bite. “I told him so, too.”

  “No name-calling,” Brynn reminded him.

  “Yeah, I know.” Tyler gulped down half his glass of milk, then wiped his sleeve across his upper lip. Good thing Brynn had placed the napkin next to his snack plate. “I thought if I sneaked something on my list that you didn’t know about, I could prove Santa was real.”

  “Well...yes, that would work.” Brynn racked her brain for where she’d hidden Tyler’s letter when he gave it to her to mail. Normally, she read over it several times during the weeks leading up to Christmas to make sure she didn’t miss anything. This year, she was operating on autopilot in most areas of her life, trying to balance her new job with single motherhood and not reveal any of the massive cracks in her armor to the outside world. How many other little things had she missed or overlooked in her need to keep up the facade of normal?

  The possibilities were endless.

  “Remember, bud, Santa lives in your heart. It’s the spirit of Christmas that allows people to believe in him.” She stood from the table and moved to give her son’s small shoulders a squeeze. “I don’t know why Max doesn’t believe, but Christmas isn’t about proving the truth beyond a shadow of doubt. It’s about faith.”

  She smoothed the hair out of Tyler’s eyes as she gazed down at him. “Does that make sense to you?”

  “I guess.” He pushed back his chair and grabbed his plate off the table. “Can we still write a letter for Remi?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can we go visit her now?”

  “Visit?” Brynn swallowed. Nick would be at work and his mom at the house, so maybe this was the right time to go over. In all honesty, she hadn’t expected her son to take all of the impending changes to their lives in stride.

  “If you bring your laptop, I can show her some toys for babies. Maybe she’ll kick her feet or something to tell me what she wants on her list.”

  “Maybe,” Brynn agreed. “You do homework, and I’ll call Nick’s mom and ask if it’s okay that we stop by.”

  Tyler placed his plate and glass in the sink. “Does Grandma know about Remi?”

  “No one does yet.” Brynn kept her tone light even when panic flooded her. “But I’m sure people will find out soon, and I’ll call your grandma tonight. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

  Tyler nodded and Brynn appreciated his easy manner, even though she knew he didn’t understand the full impact one small baby would have on their lives. Brynn did her best to put aside some money toward Tyler’s college fund every month. Now, in addition to providing for Remi, she figured she should start a new fund for both of the children to use for therapy later in life. She couldn’t believe things could be this easy. Nothing in her life up until this moment had been.

  “I always wanted a little brother or sister,” Tyler told her.

  A lump formed in her throat. “I didn’t know that, bud.”

  “I have one now, and I’m going to teach her all the things about being a kid.” He drew in a deep breath, swallowed, then opened his mouth and let out a loud series of belches. “Like how to burp the ABCs. I got up to G the other day at recess.”

  “Nice work,” Brynn told him with a grin. Her mother would tell her to try to curb that kind of behavior, but Brynn figured Tyler had enough of his childhood stolen from him with his father’s death. Why sanction a bit of silly fun? “But stop delaying on the homework.”

  He groaned. “We’re doing times tables in math. I hate multiplication.”

  She lifted a brow. “It doesn’t get done if you don’t do it.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’m going, but you can’t make me not hate it.”

  “I’d never try,” she promised. When he’d disappeared up the stairs, she grabbed her phone and sent off a quick text to her mother, asking for Alice Dunlap’s cell number.

  Within seconds, her mother replied, sending the number with the question WHY? in all caps. Whitney Roberts did a lot of screaming via text. Unlike Brynn, her mother had a big blustery personality and had no problem expressing her emotions. Too bad most of them were judgmental and negative when it came to Brynn.

  She responded she had a quick question about the local church choir’s Christmas concert. That seemed like an easy enough answer. Alice had been in charge of the concert for ages, and this year the event was being held at the Dennison
Mill.

  She waited for her mother to reply, to ask about Brynn’s job or how she could help with the event. Or to ask about her only grandson or...

  The screen remained empty and Brynn cursed the disappointment that crested inside her. She should be used to her mother’s disinterest in her life. That didn’t make the indifference hurt any less, even after so many years.

  With a sigh, she touched her thumb to the hyperlink of Alice’s number and lifted the phone to her ear.

  * * *

  The smell of garlic and tomato sauce enveloped Nick the second he opened the door from the garage into his small laundry room. His stomach grumbled in response, a sharp reminder of the chaotic day he’d had and the fact that there hadn’t been a minute to stop for a bite to eat since he arrived at the station that morning.

  Teddy padded into the room, tail wagging, and nudged Nick’s leg, then went to sit by his dog bowl. Nick wasn’t the only hungry guy in the house.

  In addition to responding to a car crash out on the main highway and a possible burglary at a farm outside town, he’d had meetings with the chamber of commerce and the mayor’s communications director. In fact, Nick might still be at work if one of his deputies hadn’t agreed to come in early.

  Nick hated asking for help, but he also didn’t want to burn out his mom on her first day watching Remi. The baby had been asleep when Nick left for work, and the truth was he wanted to see her. Yes, he trusted his mother, but the baby was his responsibility and he was well past the age of shirking his duties.

  He walked into the kitchen, but instead of his mother, Brynn stood at the stove, stirring something in a large pot that he assumed was the source of the amazing scent permeating his home.

  She wore a Starlight High School sweatshirt and jeans that hugged her curves. Her hair was loose and her feet bare. She looked casual and comfortable and the scene in front of him was the sexiest thing Nick had ever seen.

  Damn, he must be getting old if domestication was a turn-on. Although in his heart, he knew the reaction had more to do with Brynn being at the center of it than anything else.

  A few feet away, Remi sat in the high chair his mother had procured, contentedly gnawing on some kind of toy.

  “Hi, Nick,” Tyler called, waving to him from where he was coloring at the table. “Mom’s making spaghetti.”

  Brynn spun toward him, yanking the wooden spoon to her chest like a shield.

  Nick cringed as red sauce splattered down the front of her sweatshirt. “Sorry.” He held up his hands, palms out. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “I didn’t hear you come in.” She pointed to Teddy, who’d followed Nick into the main house. “He seems to be a barker when people come to the door.”

  “He knows the sound of my car.” Nick bent and scratched between the dog’s ears. “Is my mom here?”

  “Not anymore.” A blush staining her cheeks, Brynn placed the spoon on a plate next to the stove and grabbed a paper towel, blotting at her sweatshirt. “Tyler and I stopped by to see Remi and while we were here, your mom got a call from Jolie Patterson. Dave fell off a ladder while putting up Christmas lights and Jolie was afraid he broke his hip. Your mom asked if I could stay so she could meet them at the hospital and sit with her.”

  Nick frowned. “I drove by the Pattersons’ a few days ago. They’ve already got so many lights on the house you could practically see it from space.”

  “You know how Jolie likes to decorate and Dave likes to make Jolie happy. I’m sorry I didn’t think to warn you we’d be here.”

  “Making dinner,” he added, as he moved toward her. He took a clean dishrag from a drawer, wet it under the faucet and handed it to Brynn. “This might work better than paper towels.”

  “Thanks.” She concentrated on the stains on her sweatshirt instead of meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry if making myself at home is a problem. Tyler and I always eat at six, so I thought...”

  “It’s fine.” Nick reached out a hand and tipped up her chin. “My house hasn’t smelled this good...well...ever. I love spaghetti.”

  She chuckled, and the sound reverberated through him like music. “That was obvious since jarred sauce and frozen meatballs seemed to be the only thing other than condiments in your pantry and fridge.”

  “Is it almost time to eat?” Tyler asked from the table.

  “Yes.” Brynn turned to the boy. “Wash your hands and you can help set the table.”

  “What’s sweet Remi doing?” Nick looked more closely at the baby. She was chomping on the plastic toy she held with surprising gusto.

  “It’s a silicone teething ring that I put in the freezer for a few minutes so it would be cold on her gums.”

  “Mom said I could help feed her dinner,” Tyler announced, as he walked by on his way to the sink. “Since she’s my sister and all.”

  Nick felt the boy’s gaze on him, primed for a reaction.

  “She’s a lucky kid to have you for a big brother, Ty.”

  That earned a cheeky grin. “Yeah, I know.”

  “I’m going to change clothes and wash up, too.” Nick moved to the high chair and bent to place a soft kiss on the top of Remi’s head. She smiled and held out her toy to him. “You keep that, sweetheart. Looks like you’re having a grand time with it.”

  “Any chance I could borrow a shirt?” Brynn asked. “I’m kind of a mess with sauce all down the front of me.” Her tone was casual, but Nick could hear something in it. A thread of sensuality that had awareness alighting through him.

  “Sure. I’ll grab something upstairs for you.” He avoided looking directly at her. Despite the shapeless sweatshirt, he had no problem envisioning the curves it covered. Imagining those curves covered by something he wore made his blood run hot. Could he be more pathetic? “Be down in a few.”

  In his bedroom, he changed out of his uniform and into a T-shirt and jeans. He washed his hands in the bathroom sink and splashed water on his face. A cold shower wouldn’t be out of the question at the moment. Get a hold of yourself, he chided. There was nothing about this situation that would appear the least bit seductive to an outside observer.

  And everyone knew Nick was a committed bachelor. Hell, even the town cronies, who loved to matchmake as much as they loved a rousing night of bunco, had given up on him. One pseudo-family dinner with people who didn’t even belong to him would change nothing.

  Flannel shirt in hand, he reentered the kitchen, and his breath caught in his throat. All coherent thought dissolved at the sight of Brynn in a thin white tank top, placing plates on the table while Tyler trailed behind her with forks and knives.

  Was this how Ward Cleaver felt every time he walked into the house and found June engaged in some mindless domestic task? No wonder the man had seemed so happy during all those late-night kid channel reruns Nick watched with his brother when they were kids.

  As if sensing the weight of his stare, Brynn turned and offered a tentative smile. “I hope you’re hungry,” she said, then bit down on her lower lip. “We really have invaded your space.”

  “I appreciate the meal.” His voice sounded too gravelly, even to his own ears, and he cleared his throat. “Here’s a shirt.”

  Her fingers brushed his as she took it, and he wished he knew if the blush that stained her cheeks was from her reaction to him or strictly a result of working in the kitchen.

  “What’s your wee sister having for dinner?” he asked Tyler, needing to get his mind off Brynn’s body.

  “Green beans and rice cereal,” the boy answered with a grimace. “So yucky.”

  “Not to a baby.” Brynn put a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Concentrate on your food first and then you can feed Remi.”

  “What can I do?” Nick’s stomach rumbled as he took in the inviting spread of food on his normally barren table. A big bowl of noodles, meatballs and sauce sat in th
e center with a salad and a basket of garlic bread flanking it on either side.

  “Do you have salad tongs?” Brynn asked.

  “How about two forks?”

  She grinned. “Perfect.”

  He grabbed the utensils and raised a brow in Tyler’s direction. “One scoop of salad or two?”

  The boy climbed up onto his chair across the table. “None.”

  “One,” Brynn corrected.

  Tyler rolled his eyes. “A tiny scoop.”

  Nick dished out salad to each of them while Brynn filled bowls with the pasta and passed around the bread basket.

  “I can’t believe you came up with a dinner this good from stuff I had in the house. I didn’t realize I’d bought lettuce.”

  “Your mom told me it was in the fridge. She brought veggies over this morning because she guessed you wouldn’t have any.”

  “Because vegetables are nasty,” Tyler offered.

  “Amen, little dude.” Nick grunted when Brynn’s toe connected with his shin. “I mean, not all of them. And they’re good for you, so we all need to eat at least one scoop.”

  He looked at her across the table for confirmation he’d redeemed himself.

  Brynn shook her head, but her lips twitched and somehow that felt like a win. He wanted her to smile more, and he wanted to be the man who made her smile.

  “Where’d these place mats come from?” He ran a finger along the edge of the woven fabric.

  “I found them in one of the drawers.”

  “Huh.” He owned place mats. Who knew?

  Remi let out a cry of delight when Brynn dipped a spoon into the small cereal bowl and offered her a bite.

  They’d gone over her feeding schedule and the variety of foods she could have at five months with the social worker, but Nick was still relieved to have an actual mother here to oversee the baby’s first dinner in his house.

  “You like it,” Brynn told the girl. “Remi is such a good baby. You’re going to grow big and strong like your brother.”

  “She’s even messier than me,” Tyler said with a laugh, then shoved half a piece of garlic bread into his mouth.