by Linda Warren
The faint ringing of a doorbell woke her. She sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Was that…? The doorbell rang again. It was. She shot to the entry and glanced through the peephole, and her heart hammered loudly in her ears. “Oh, my. Oh, my.” She couldn’t get the door opened fast enough.
Quinn, looking a little ragged and tired, but gorgeous, stood there holding the most beautiful sight in the world. Her baby—Dillon—was asleep on his shoulder.
“Oh, my baby.” She scooped him out of Quinn’s arms and they walked into the apartment. Britt sat on the sofa, smoothing Dillon’s hair and loving the feel of him.
“What happened?” she asked.
Quinn took a long breath and told her a story that sent chills up her spine.
“He’s…he’s dead?” She could hardly say the words.
“Yes. You were right all along. He’s been doing drugs for a long time. The judge awarded you full custody of Dillon, so you don’t have to worry anymore.”
Britt’s eyes met Quinn’s in the light from the tree. “Thank you for being there for Dillon. And for me.”
Quinn glanced at the tree. “Dillon is where he should be, home with you and ready for Christmas.”
“I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“Just be happy.”
She kissed Dillon’s cheek. “When you rescued me from the flooding creek, I thought of you as my hero.” Her gaze caught his. “You’re always going to be my hero. My Christmas hero.”
He bent down and touched her lips with his. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.
Before she could respond, Dillon stirred and rubbed his eyes, whining.
“Time to put Dilly bear to bed.” She stood, rubbing her son’s back. “It’s going to feel so good to see him back in his crib. Thank you.” She smiled at Quinn and walked into the bedroom.
She changed Dillon’s diaper and tucked him in, staring at her Christmas miracle. All because of Quinn. Now she just wanted him to hold her forever. She hurried back into the living room and stopped short. Quinn wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the kitchen. He was gone.
Her heart sank. Why had he left? He was tired, she knew. He’d been watching Phil’s condo for days. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she sat on the sofa again. What a horrendous night, and Quinn had been there to see it all. That had to have been mentally and physically draining. And he had done it all for her.
Phil was dead. That took some getting used to. Although she had grown to despise him, she had also loved him once, and felt a deep sadness for the life he’d thrown away. She would remember the Phil who’d been fun, generous and full of dreams when she’d first met him. That would be the man she’d tell Dillon about.
The nightmare was over. But there was still an emptiness inside her. She had her son. She had her life back.
But she didn’t have Quinn.
The Christmas lights blinked at her. Quinn had been working around the clock on her case. He probably hadn’t had time to put up a tree.
Without thinking about it, and going with her heart, she went into the utility room for a plastic container and began to take down her tree.
QUINN WAS DOG TIRED WHEN he let himself into his house. He didn’t bother turning on any lights as he made his way to his study. Sinking into his leather chair, he ran his hands over his face. What a night. What a horrible, horrible night. The only light shining through was that Britt and Dillon were back together. Their Christmas would be complete.
He’d wanted to stay at her place tonight, but too much had happened for him to take that leap. They had to adjust to the sadness of the situation and learn to live with it. He’d call her after the holiday, if he lasted that long.
He wanted to offer her the world. She deserved no less after what she’d been through with Phil. Quinn knew he was at the crossroads of his life. His work wasn’t exciting or exhilarating anymore. The violence and abuse had taken its toll.
Glancing around the study, he could feel his father’s presence. That gentle, soothing nature of his was all around Quinn. As a young man he’d wanted his father to be forceful, dynamic, a take-charge type of person, but he wasn’t, so Quinn had emulated men like Philip Rutherford who fit that bill. How wrong he had been! He’d traded gold for fool’s gold. And that was never more apparent than tonight.
He picked up a stone from Egypt his dad used as a paperweight. Rubbing his thumb over it, he said, “I’m not cut out to be a cutthroat defense attorney. I’m good at it, but it puts a strain on my heart. You knew it would get to me, didn’t you?”
He stood and flexed his stiff shoulders, knowing he had already made a decision about his future. A future that included happiness. And a family.
Heading for the stairs, he decided to shower and catch a few hours sleep before going to Peyton’s for Christmas.
As he laid his weary body on the mattress ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. “What the…?”
He grabbed a robe and some warm slippers and made his way to the foyer. Glancing through the glass, he frowned but quickly opened the door. Britt stood there, holding a sleeping Dillon.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling them inside out of the cold.
“You left. That’s what’s wrong,” she replied, her eyes spark ling like stars in a pitch-black sky. “And heroes don’t leave.”
“What?” He was thrown for a second.
“Heroes don’t leave,” she repeated.
“They don’t?” He felt a grin spreading across his face like butter on a hot biscuit. He was still her hero. That said everything he wanted to hear.
“No,” she said huskily. “They ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.”
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand and loved the way her eyes darkened when he did that. Cupping her face, he kissed her with all the fire and love inside him. “I love you, Britt Davis,” he said against her trembling lips. “I just thought it was too soon, with everything that had happened.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered back, and the words had never sounded so heartfelt, so everlasting. “I can’t get through this night without you.” She rested her forehead against his chin, clutching Dillon in her arms. “Would you please get Dillon’s Pack ’n Play out of the car so I can kiss you like there’s no tomorrow?”
“Yes, ma’am. Hold that thought….”
It took him a few minutes to get the thing out of the trunk, and he hurried back to her. Setting it up by the gas fireplace, he said, “There’s a tree and presents jammed into the backseat of your car.”
She kissed Dillon and laid him in the bed, tucking a blanket around him. The baby never moved or made a sound. “Of course, we can’t have Christmas without a tree and gifts for Dillon.”
“Did you take down your tree?” He turned on the fire and it roared to life.
She straightened, her eyes twinkling. “Crazy, huh?”
He locked his hands behind her back and whirled her onto the sofa. “Crazy and wonderful. Just like you.” He took her lips once again and she wrapped her arms around him, and he lost himself in her sweetness, her love and the heated emotions they’d shared. Her fingers slipped inside his robe to his chest, and his body tightened with uncontrollable need. He caressed her hand. “I was feeling so down, but now I’m on top of the world.”
She kissed his knuckles. “Me, too. Hold me, please.”
He gathered her against his chest and stroked her hair.
“I’m going to trust you forever, my hero,” she whispered sleepily.
The flickering fire cast a glow over them, and he looked into her eyes and knew he’d found exactly what he’d been searching for—the woman to fill his heart, his life, with love.
“I’m going to love you every day like there’s no to morrow.”
She laughed, and the old house seemed to sigh as a new era of Rosses began.
Epilogue
One year later…
Britt straightened an ornament on the eight-foot Dou
glas fir that stood in front of the French windows looking out into the backyard. Brightly wrapped packages rested beneath the tree. The house was fully decorated, with garlands on the staircase and mantel. Poinsettias added color and the lights sparkled invitingly. They were ready for Christmas.
This year was different.
They were happy, and together.
Last Christmas was a painful memory that time and love had managed to diminish. The past year had been a time of change. A year of healing, discovering new goals and dreams, and living life to the fullest.
She and Quinn had married a month after she’d come to his lovely home in the middle of the night to give him her heart. She never went back to her apartment to live. Their life together had started that moment.
They’d talked about their future, slept in each other’s arms and awoke in time to put up the tree before Dillon stirred. They’d embraced change together. Quinn was back in school to get his doctorate so he could teach on the university level. She was in school, too. She was now a mother and a student, and she loved it. Quinn would eventually phase out his law practice and teach full time. But for now he was still helping people who needed him.
She glanced at her watch. He had a meeting with the dean, but he should have been home by now. Where was he? It was Christmas Eve.
Dillon, dressed in his new slacks and white shirt, knelt on the hardwood floor, playing with a train set Quinn had bought him. Quinn had taken him to get his hair cut, and she’d combed it neatly, but knew it wouldn’t stay that way long. Dillon was a typical little boy.
He watched the train go round and round, and then stopped it and started it again, over and over. Content. Happy. That’s what she wanted for her son.
The first couple of months after Phil’s death had been hard on Dillon. He’d cried if Britt was out of his sight. He was fussy and threw temper tantrums. Young as he was, he knew something was wrong in his world.
Quinn made the difference. The two bonded immediately, and Dillon didn’t cry if she left him with Quinn. Gradually, Dillon became more and more secure, and today he was a completely different child. She would probably always blame herself that her baby had to go through such trauma. But she vowed from here on his life would be as idyllic as she could make it.
A car engine purred in the driveway. Dillon’s head shot up. “Dad-dy,” he shouted, and was off and running for the back door.
Britt followed more slowly. Quinn had adopted Dillon. They kept waiting for Philip to throw a wrench in the works, but they never heard a word from him. He’d sold the Rutherford firm to his partners, and he’d also sold Phil’s condo and the house in Rob Roy, moving to Colorado with his new family. Quinn said that he didn’t think the man would ever return to Austin.
Dillon would grow up with a father who loved him and who Dillon adored. Britt would tell him about his real father only if he asked. Now he was Dillon Ross to the world. She was grateful for that.
She stopped short in the kitchen. Quinn squatted with Dillon in one arm and a dog that looked like a Jack Russell terrier in the other.
“Mommy, doggie,” Dillon said, pointing to the dog.
“I see.”
“Let me explain.” Quinn’s eyes twinkled as she’d seen them do so many times, and her heart melted. He stood, and his gorgeous blue eyes roamed over her red dress and heels, igniting the flame that always flared between them. “Whoa, are we going somewhere?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her to him. Her body welded to every strong masculine line of his. “This feels good,” he murmured against her face.
“Mmm. So good.” She moved against him and loved his instant response. “But first things first. Why did the dean want to see you?”
“A professor was taken unexpectedly ill, and that’s why the dean was in his office on Christmas Eve. He asked me to monitor one of the professor’s classes until he returns, sort of an intern thing. I start when the semester begins again, and balance the class with my studies.”
She kissed him. “Wonderful.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m changing my whole life all because of you, and it feels right. You made me realize that change isn’t so bad, especially when it makes me a better person, a better husband and father. You made me want everything out of my reach—home, family and love. With you everything is possible.”
“Oh, Quinn.” She looked into his eyes. “I love you and I’m so glad I found the perfect hero.”
He kissed the tip of her nose.
Dillon giggled, rolling around with the dog on the tiled floor, his shirttail untucked from his pants and his shoes untied. And she’d just dressed him.
“Now about the dog, Mr. Hero.”
“Well, the dean had him in his office. He’d bought him for his grandson for Christmas, but the son reminded him that his wife has allergies, so they couldn’t accept him. Luckily, the grandson didn’t know. The dean was trying to find the dog a good home. We were talking about getting Dillon a puppy, so I offered to take him.”
Dillon squealed with delight as the dog licked his face.
“See? They’re already friends.”
Britt stroked Quinn’s face. “You’re such a good father.”
His eyes darkened. “You keep doing that and we won’t get out of the kitchen.”
“Mom and Onnie are on the way to spend the night, so they’ll be here when Dillon opens his presents in the morning. And they’re bringing food.”
“Ah, food or passion?” He leaned his head back and pre tended to consider it. She laughed.
Quinn loved her musical laugh, and he loved her. She filled all the empty places in his heart and in his life. She made the old house come alive again. She made him feel alive. And loneliness was nowhere in sight.
He kissed her again. “What’s the plan with Peyton?”
“We’re having a late dinner tomorrow at her house with your mother. It’s all arranged.” Britt’s sexy mouth curved play fully. “I’m a good wife.”
“How did I get so lucky?”
“You jumped into a raging creek to save my life. Now you’re stuck with me and my dysfunctional family.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The doorbell rang.
“Nana, Onnie,” Dillon cried, and ran for the front door with the dog on his heels.
Quinn cupped Britt’s face and kissed her deeply. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Ross, and may we never come unstuck.”
She smiled, and Quinn took her hand and fingered the bracelet that she never took off. They’d weathered the storm. Even though life wouldn’t always be smooth, they would continue to find shelter in each other’s arms.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7639-4
HER CHRISTMAS HERO
Copyright © 2010 by Linda Warren
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