As Braden unfastened his seat belt, he said, “Come on. I have to get something out of the back. I’m playing Santa Claus.”
“Santa Claus?” The notion was so far from what I’d been thinking, it took me a moment to grasp it.
I soon learned exactly what Braden meant. The house was set up for families of children who were ill and in the hospital. They could stay here and not have to worry about hotel bills.
As Braden carried the Santa suit over his shoulder, he explained, “These parents and kids are away from their homes at a time of year when they want to be home the most. People donate toys and books for the children, then I play the part of Santa and give them out.”
“Have you been doing this long?”
“The past few years.”
“How did you become involved with it?”
“Remember Melissa?”
I nodded. “Your niece.”
“When she was in fifth grade, her English class collected books to donate here for Christmas. Melissa is always bursting with ideas. She suggested they find a Santa Claus to give them out. Then she recommended me. Without asking me first,” he added with a grin. “After I played Santa that year, I was hooked.”
The tone of his voice told me he might occasionally be exasperated with his niece but his affection for her was lasting and deep. I looked forward to seeing him in action with these children. I’d get a hint as to the kind of father he’d be.
A minute later inside the house, Braden introduced me to the housemother and then went to change for the Christmas party. My heart was full of admiration for a man who could be so busy with his restaurant yet find the time to involve himself with a project like this. It shouldn’t have surprised me. I’d had several discussions with Braden about our philosophies of life. His natural generosity led him to give not only to his family and those he loved, but also to the community in general.
Everyone welcomed me, and I soon struck up a conversation with a young couple whose baby was in the neonatal intensive care unit. They also had a healthy four-year-old who was playing with another child across the room. I scanned the parents who were gathered there. Many of them looked tired and worried. Yet tonight, they were trying to concentrate on their other children—the ones who weren’t ill.
My sister came to mind, the hours I’d spent in the hospital with her throughout a long labor that had ended so sadly. Eventually after her divorce, she’d pulled out of her depression. She’d begun a career she loved as a veterinarian and she now showered her love and attention on her furry patients. Yet I still saw the sadness in her eyes when we were together, and I knew she’d never forget the child she’d lost or forgive Bill for deserting her when she was at her lowest.
I thought again of the day Braden had proposed. Although the idea of getting pregnant had still scared me, I’d considered it for the future…because I loved him. Yet when he’d talked about having a family as soon as we could and about wanting lots of kids, I’d panicked. He’d wanted me to give up my chance to succeed, my chance to make my mark, and so I’d had no choice but to return his ring. I’d so desperately wanted him to see my side, not to eliminate my aspirations as if they didn’t matter.
How much had I mattered to him, if he could let go of all we’d shared so easily?
When Braden appeared in the living room dressed as Santa, the children were wide-eyed and open-mouthed and their parents were smiling. He’d added some padding under the suit, but not a lot. The fake white beard had slipped sideways a little, and his mouth wasn’t quite centered under the moustache. The hat, with its attached white wig, had to be uncomfortable, but he didn’t look as if he minded any of it at all as he “ho, ho, ho’ed” his way into the room, carrying two huge laundry bags. Speaking in a voice deeper than his usual one, he greeted the children and told them he’d come to bring some Christmas cheer. And then he began to call their names, handing out presents the volunteers had chosen and wrapped with care.
I felt a lump in my throat as I thought about being part of something like this, not just this time of year, but all year long. Maybe I didn’t give back enough. Maybe my life had been too focused on my career. Maybe my life had been about running all these years from a relationship with a man and true intimacy because it had been too scary to consider. I’d considered it with Braden. Had I run again, or had I simply chosen the wrong man to trust?
My pregnancy was making me look at life differently.
After Braden had given out the toys and disappeared back to the North Pole, refreshments were set out on a large pine table in the dining room. There were Christmas cookies and fruit breads along with pretzels, chips and soda. I picked up a can of cola and took it down the short hall to the room into which I’d seen Braden disappear. That suit was probably hot and he’d appreciate something to drink. Without thinking twice, I opened the door and went in.
Braden had apparently just stepped into his trousers. The button was unfastened, the belt unbuckled. Shirtless and bare chested, he was hanging the Santa suit on a hanger.
I stopped and stared. It had been four long months since I’d seen him without clothes…four long months that I’d longed for his body close to mine, four long months during which I’d analyzed and regretted and hurt, even though I’d convinced myself I could live my life perfectly well without him.
Overwhelmed with emotions that were turning me inside out, I moved to leave, but Braden said wryly, “Come on in. There’s nothing here you haven’t seen before.”
A hint of amusement accompanied his words and I felt foolish. Although we’d once touched each other intimately, made love until we hadn’t cared if the sky was falling, I now felt awkward with him—as if we were almost strangers.
Yet I wanted to get much closer. I wanted to touch him again and have him touch me. I needed to understand everything he wanted from the future and what that future had in store for us as parents.
Thinking about the two of us together again made my palms damp, and I had a difficult time ungluing my gaze from his chest.
Concentrating on his tousled hair, the sparks of humor in his eyes, I offered him the can of soda. “I thought you might be hot.”
There was a pause, rife with the electricity that zipped between us. When he reached out to take the can, our fingertips brushed.
“I am hot,” he agreed in a husky voice, his gaze still connected to mine. He popped the top on the soda can and took several long swallows. When he was done, he set the can aside on a desk and I saw that we were surrounded by bookshelves. This was a den or an office.
“You could have been my helper tonight.” He was appraising my red suit in a way that told me he was looking at more than the suit. Was he trying to identify the changes in my body? “You look good in red,” he added. “You don’t wear enough bright colors.”
“I work with men, and there isn’t a red or purple suit among them,” I joked. “I don’t usually like to stand out, but with Christmas coming I wanted to look festive.”
“You can’t hide who you are the rest of the year.” His voice had dropped deeper and gotten serious.
“I don’t do that.”
“Yes, you do. You did it with me. Sometimes when I asked questions, you’d give me short answers without telling me the real truth underneath.”
Braden’s comments weren’t accusatory but probing, as if he was looking for answers, too. I knew he was talking about my parents and my sister and my childhood—all subjects I had avoided with him.
“We knew each other such a short time.”
When he took a step closer, my breath caught. “We fell hard and deep, but some things you kept on the surface and I’m not sure that would have changed with time.”
Was he right about that? I’d always been a private person because I didn’t want anyone to see my hurts or disappointments. If Braden and I had continued our courtship, had gotten married, would I ever have let my armor fall away completely?
“You’re wrong about that.” I
thought again about the way we’d made love the last night we were together and how in our desire for each other, we hadn’t used protection. I’d started the pill a few weeks before and had gotten so caught up in loving Braden I’d forgotten the medication wouldn’t be effective for a month.
The room was small and we were standing so close. Braden shook his head slightly, as if regretting what he was about to do.
After he raised his hand, with one long finger he pushed my hair from my temple. “I can’t believe you’re carrying my baby.”
“I can’t believe it, either.” My voice was shaky. His touch had always affected me that way.
Now in this quiet room with more privacy than we’d had all day, his hand slid to my neck and under my hair. “I want to be part of every decision you make in this pregnancy. I want to be a real father.”
“I want that, too.” Yet if I was in Los Angeles and he was in Oklahoma, how could he be an integral part of his child’s life? He was wondering the same thing…I could see it in his eyes.
Then he was bending his head, drawing me to him, and I felt the heat of his lips on mine. Braden’s kiss always took me out of myself and into him. As his tongue slid into my mouth, I wrapped my arms around his neck.
As his hot mouth built a fire inside me, I couldn’t help but run my hands over the taut skin of his shoulders. Lacing my fingers in his hair, I inhaled his scent. Four months melted away and I was being loved by Braden again.
We always fit together perfectly. When he pulled me close, my jacket lapels had slid apart. My silk blouse wasn’t much of a barrier and my nipples hardened against his chest. I knew he could feel them because he moved a little, rubbing against me. I moaned, and he angled the kiss more, deepened the intensity of the response he wanted from me. I could feel his arousal and when he rocked his hips against mine, I yearned for the touching and holding and fulfillment he’d always given me. When Braden kissed, there was never anything halfhearted about it. Now, my physical need rivaled his. I knew his desires were strong, but I’d never known how strong mine were until I’d met Braden.
When Braden’s hands pressed the small of my back, I melted into him. Apparently he didn’t like the feel of my jacket hiding me from him. His hands slid under it onto the silk of my blouse. I could feel the imprint of each of his fingers. As they slipped lower, he pulled me closer and erotically caressed my backside. Our contact was tantalizing, tempting and so sensual I was dizzy.
Braden groaned and I remembered what that meant. It meant everything would escalate and—
Suddenly, unbidden thoughts washed over me, bringing my hands to his shoulders. Upset, I pushed him back and broke our kiss.
His eyes were intensely green with desire.
“Why did you do that?” My voice came out shaky.
“You have to ask?”
“I have to ask. I have to wonder if you’re using our…chemistry…to convince me to stay.”
“Would that be so bad?” He sounded matter-of-fact, not nearly so shaken by our kiss as I was.
“I can’t stay just because we’d have great sex.”
His black brows furrowed. “Just what would make you stay?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve worked for this position for so long. I’d have to rethink my life, figure out a way to keep my independence…” Giving up the promotion still seemed unfathomable to me.
“Damn your independence,” Braden muttered. “You need to think about what’s best for this baby.”
I pictured my mother, her lack of joy, her resignation. “What’s best for this baby is me being happy and fulfilled as a woman.”
He grimaced. “Are you repeating something you heard on Dr. Phil?”
“I don’t have time to watch Dr. Phil. You know that.” Braden did know a lot about me…more than I’d let any other man know.
“I know that you’re driven. I know if you want to be a good mother, you might have to let go of a few of your other dreams.”
“What about you? Why can’t you change your life?”
“Because that doesn’t make sense. My family’s here. I’m going to have two restaurants here.”
“And my promotion and dreams are in California.” Except the truth was—not all of my dreams were in L.A. Ever since I’d met Braden, he’d been part of them.
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.” He reached for his shirt, which hung over a cane-backed chair. Shoving one arm into it and then the other, he pulled the front together. “You frustrate the hell out of me.”
“Because I won’t give in?” I asked sadly, thinking about how my mother had given in over and over until she hadn’t known who she was.
“That’s the problem. You see it as giving in. If you stay, I see that as the best decision for our baby.”
His fingers went to the buttons on his shirt and he started fastening them. I wanted to button it for him. I would’ve loved to be that close to him again, but I couldn’t be.
After I glanced at the door, I moved toward it. “I’d better go back out there. Everyone might think—”
“What could happen almost did?”
When my cheeks grew hot, I blew out a breath and changed the course of the conversation. “You did a good thing here tonight.”
He shrugged. “I like kids. What could be more fun than playing Santa Claus?”
I knew the answer to that. More fun for Braden would be playing baseball with his son, lifting his daughter onto his shoulders, buying his child an ice-cream cone or wiping his or her sticky fingers.
“April?”
My eyes met his.
“What are you doing for Christmas?”
“I don’t have plans. I was going to call a friend.”
“My family opens presents on Christmas Eve at my sister’s house. Then on Christmas Day we have dinner at my parents’. Why don’t you join us for dinner?”
Was pulling me into his family another way to tie me to Galloway? I didn’t see ulterior motives in his eyes. I only saw the longing to be a father to this child.
“All right. That sounds nice.”
He smiled at me, and looked relieved that I’d accepted. Before our attraction drew us back together again, I slipped out the door into the hall. I was looking forward to Christmas Day, looking forward to spending more time with Braden.
FROM THE MOMENT I joined Braden’s family on Christmas Day, I could feel the tension in the living room. On the drive over, he told me that he’d informed his parents I was pregnant. That added an extra layer to the eggshells I already expected I’d have to walk on.
Braden’s sister and brother had children, and the place was bedlam. From the moment I walked into the Galloway home, his mother Shannon’s eyes were cool and disapproving. His sister, Carol, was aloof, although his brother, Collin, and Collin’s wife, Joan, were friendly. Joan spent some time talking with me while Braden mingled.
Carol and her husband Joel’s daughter, Melissa, was thirteen, a strikingly pretty girl with long black hair and green eyes like Braden’s. During the hour before dinner, she smiled tentatively at me a few times and I felt almost friendly vibrations from her. After I excused myself to use the restroom, she was waiting for me in the hall as I came out.
“I just want to tell you, I love your outfit.”
I was wearing royal-blue, faux-suede slacks that matched a long tunic top with a mandarin collar. I’d bought it because I knew the top would hide the early stages of my pregnancy.
“Thank you. You look pretty sharp yourself.” With her green stretch leggings, Melissa wore a red turtleneck and a green-and-red vest decorated with puffy and sparkling white snowmen.
The teen wrinkled her nose. “Mom bought me the outfit for Christmas and I figured I’d better wear it. It’s so…so childish. She won’t let me buy the clothes I really like.”
Her tone made me smile. Obviously she wanted to grow up faster than she was being allowed to. “What kind of clothes do you want to wear?”
“You k
now, trendy stuff—crop tops, low-cut jeans. My friends wear them, but Mom says I can’t.” Brightening again, she tilted her head to one side. “I heard Gran and Mom talking about you. You work for a cosmetics company, don’t you?”
All of a sudden I felt self-conscious about being the subject of family conversation. “Yes, I do.”
“I think that’s awesome. Do they give you lots of free stuff? You don’t wear much makeup.” She was scrutinizing me as if trying to analyze every cosmetic I’d used on my face.
I laughed. “I do get samples of all the product lines and I have a few kits from the sales counters. But you have to remember, I work for Natural Beauty Cosmetics. They enhance the way a woman looks…they don’t proclaim it too loudly. Our lines are about taking care of a woman’s skin as much as about eye shadows, lipsticks and foundation. Not that you need to worry about any of that right now.”
With a giggle, she said, “I’m glad you came today.” She’d almost slipped by me into the bathroom when she stopped. “You know, don’t you, that everyone’s kind of mad at you because you hurt Uncle Braden. He didn’t come around to visit for a couple of weeks after you two broke up.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” I couldn’t defend myself to this teenager and tell her that her uncle had hurt me just as badly.
Just then, Braden appeared in the hallway. “Dinner’s ready.”
With an “I’ll be right out,” Melissa slipped into the powder room and closed the door.
“Afraid I got lost?” I teased.
“I was concerned you might be upset. My family’s not being their usual friendly selves.”
“It’s okay, Braden.”
“No, it’s not.” He looked as if he might want to scold anyone who hadn’t welcomed me with open arms.
“Collin and I had a great conversation earlier,” I assured him.
“Collin understands what happened with us—two adults, two careers.”
“And the others don’t?”
“You have to realize my mother believed taking care of children was the most important aspect of her life. She never thought of working outside the home. My sister and sister-in-law have done the same.”
From Here To Maternity: A Second ChancePromoted to MomOn Angel's Wings Page 10