Christmas in July

by Debbie Mason

  “Hey, baby.” She nudged his son’s chin up. “Say hi to your daddy.”

  “He no Da.” The little boy pointed to someone in the crowd. “He Da.”

  His mother blanched. “I-I…” She cleared her throat. “It’s just—”

  “Hey, Jack. It’s good to have you home,” Sawyer Anderson interrupted her, coming to stand by her side.

  The little boy flung himself into Sawyer’s arms. “Me want beer.”

  “Maybe later, buddy,” Sawyer said, extending a hand to Jack.

  And if Jack wasn’t mistaken, there was a challenge in his best friend’s eyes when he did. Jack’s narrowed gaze took in the three of them. For some reason, the sight of them together irritated the hell out of him. He shook Sawyer’s hand, hard. Sawyer firmed his grip. So did Jack.

  “It’s good to have you back, buddy.” Gage McBride intervened, pulling him into a bear hug. “Let it go. It’s not what you think,” he said for Jack’s ears alone.

  “You sure about that? Because it doesn’t look that way to me,” Jack muttered, even as he realized he had no right to judge. He’d been fooling around with another woman. But he hadn’t known he was married, he reminded himself. She did. And so did Sawyer.

  As though Gage and Sawyer’s greetings signaled the end to Jack and his wife’s one-on-one time, everyone crowded around him. Jack kept an eye on Grace and Sawyer while accepting hugs and pats on the back. Jill said something to the two of them, holding out her arms to his son. Grace looked like she was trying to explain something to Jill, but closed her mouth when Sawyer put a familiar hand on her shoulder. The little boy went happily into Jill’s arms.

  His sister shot Sawyer a dirty look before making her way to Jack’s side, apologizing to two of his grandmother’s friends for the interruption. “I’m going to put Jack Junior down for a nap. I won’t be long. You okay?”

  He didn’t know if he was or not. Half the people in here had wanted to run him out of town at one time or another, and now they were treating him like a hero. It felt like he was in a movie, and they’d forgotten to give him the script.

  And the possessive feelings for a wife he didn’t know or want confused the hell out of him. He was about to tell his sister he was good when he felt a gentle hand on his arm. “Yes, I’m very happy he’s home,” his wife responded to Mrs. Tate’s question, then smiled up at him. “You must be tired. Why don’t you sit at one of the tables, and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee?”

  Her comment brought about a flurry of concerned questions. Nell McBride, wearing a stars-and-striped T-shirt with a matching red streak in the front of her curly white hair, took his arm. An old friend of his grandmother, Nell had never failed to remind him what a disappointment he’d been to Libby. The older woman ushered him to a table and pulled out a chair. Her friends Ted and Fred stood behind her. They looked like the two guys from the movie Grumpy Old Men.

  Jack looked for his sister in hopes she would rescue him, but she headed out the door with two young girls following behind her.

  Sawyer came over to the table. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Yeah, seems we have a lot to catch up on,” Jack said with a meaningful look at his wife, who walked toward them carrying a cup of coffee and a platter of cupcakes and cookies. Her gaze shot from him to Sawyer, and she stumbled. Jack reached out to steady her at the same time Sawyer did.

  Nell sighed. “Let go of her before she spills the coffee.” She took the platter from Grace. “Thanks, Nell,” his wife murmured in her cultured voice, then handed Jack the cup. He kept one hand on her slender arm until Sawyer lowered his.

  “Call if you need anything, Grace,” Sawyer said.

  She gave a jerky nod and cleared her throat. “Would anyone else like something to drink?”

  Fred and Ted each asked for a cup of coffee. The band of tension across Jack’s shoulders loosened when the door closed behind Sawyer.

  “She’s a good girl that wife of yours,” Nell said, pulling out the chair beside him. “Your grandmother would be proud of what she’s done.”

  Before Jack could ask what she meant, several people he’d gone to school with came to say hello. He relaxed in the chair, when about an hour later, the crowd started to thin out. He caught sight of Grace cleaning tables and frowned. Every so often she’d checked in with him, making sure his cup was filled, that he had enough to eat. The same as she did for everyone else. He didn’t understand why she was playing hostess and not the attractive owner, who spent most of her time working behind the counter. Maybe they were short staffed and his wife had decided to pitch in. She seemed to be good friends with the woman. Now that he thought about it, his wife seemed to be friends with most of the people who’d crowded into the bakery. Obviously, she’d spent a lot of time in Christmas while he’d been gone.

  Gage, who’d been manning the door, ambled over. “Reporters promised to give you some space for a few days, but that’s about all I can guarantee. They’d probably lose interest if you gave one of them an interview.” He handed Jack a card. “This guy wasn’t as aggressive as the rest.”

  “Maybe you can put in a plug for the bakery.”

  With a laugh, Gage shook his head at the woman who’d come to stand beside him. “You’re shameless, you know. Jack, this is my wife, Madison.”

  She nudged her husband then smiled at Jack, extending her hand. “It’s great to finally meet you. You’ve had a lot of people praying for you.”

  Jack stood and shook her hand. “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, too.” He looked around, taking in the changes to the bakery that he’d hated as a kid. “The place doesn’t look anything like I remember. You did a great job fixing it up. And your cupcakes are amazing.”

  The woman gave him a confused look. “I didn’t—”

  Nell snorted. “She couldn’t bake a cupcake to save her life. You should’ve seen what she did to my gingerbread. This is all your wife’s doing. I told you your grandmother would be proud of what Grace has done. She’s turned the place around.”

  No, there must be a mistake. Jill said… So this is what she’d been keeping from him. He was going to kill her, but before he did, his wife had some explaining to do. “Will you excuse me a minute? I need to speak to Grace.”

  Chapter Four

  As her father’s social secretary, Grace had single-handedly organized dinners and events for hundreds of people from diplomats to heads of state. Unlike Jack’s homecoming, each and every one of them had gone off without a hitch.

  They’d been perfect.

  Grace mentally reviewed what had gone wrong today and came to the conclusion it was her fault. She’d bowed to the pressure of the citizens of Christmas and allowed her son to meet his father with everyone looking on—with Sawyer in the room. And then Jack and Sawyer had gone all Alpha male with their I’ll-bring-you-to-your-knees handshake and I’m-keeping-an-eye-on-you looks.

  Surprisingly, they appeared to be fighting over her. Surprising because Jack didn’t seem to want much to do with her, and she didn’t understand his acting all possessive. Then again, he was an Alpha male. Even though he didn’t remember her, she was his wife and that’d be all the excuse he needed to stake his claim. Besides that, Sawyer had egged him on. From what she knew of their friendship, Jack wouldn’t have needed much egging. The two men were fiercely competitive.

  She clunked her head against the screen door and contemplated escaping into the late-afternoon sunshine if only for a few minutes. Instead, she took a deep calming breath of warm, lilac-scented air before closing and locking the door. Since their friends and neighbors had begun clearing out when she’d taken refuge in the kitchen, it wouldn’t be long before she and Jack were on their own. Grace didn’t know whether she was happy about that or not. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to act around him or what she was supposed to say.

  Dr. Peters had told her to follow Jack’s lead. To talk about their past, but if she sensed he was overwhelmed to back off. After the livi
ng conditions he’d endured for the last seventeen months, she was sure the meal she’d prepared—his favorite, roast beef—and their comfortable apartment would make him feel welcomed and relaxed. That thought alone eased some of her anxiety.

  Now if Jill had managed to settle Jack Junior down for a nap, he’d be easier to deal with, too—and less prone to violence. And if she was really lucky, her sister-in-law would also be in a better mood. Grace didn’t think she could put up with any more of Jill’s censorious looks or remarks. It didn’t seem to matter that Jack was home now. Jill obviously hadn’t forgiven Grace for giving up on him.

  Today hadn’t helped.

  No matter how much she wanted to, Grace couldn’t stall any longer. She took one last look around the gleaming kitchen before going to rejoin the others. She pushed through the swinging doors at the same time as Jack and slammed into him. It felt like she’d run into a brick wall. His large, calloused hands closed around her upper arms. “Sorry. Are you okay?”

  Oh, how she’d missed his deep, raspy voice. Missed the way he called her princess, missed how often he told her he loved her, missed the way he teased her and the way he shouted her name in the throes of passion. His brow furrowed. “Did I hurt you?”

  She blinked away the memories and smiled. “No, I’m…” Her smile faltered when she noted the tic in his clenched jaw, the furious light in his incredible blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  He gently moved her back a couple of steps then released her. His firm lips flattened as he took in the kitchen.

  “Jack, what is it?”

  She knew him well enough to see that he was struggling to keep his temper in check. He drew his gaze back to hers. “Who owns the bakery now?”

  “We do, of course.” He cursed under his breath, and she briefly closed her eyes. He didn’t remember. And Jill hadn’t told him. What had she been thinking?

  But Grace knew exactly what her sister-in-law had been thinking. When Jack had come back from his year-long deployment, it’d been hard to know what had angered him more: Charlie’s death, his grandmother dying and leaving them the bakery, or the colicky baby Grace couldn’t get to stop crying. Everything and everyone set him off back then. “I’m sorry. I thought Jill had told you.”

  “No, she didn’t,” he muttered, looking around the kitchen once again before returning his hard, unyielding gaze to her. “How long have you been running the bakery?”

  She walked away from him and nervously picked up the cloth she’d folded over the sink. “Pretty much since Libby died,” she said as she went to wipe the prep top. She scrubbed at a faint scratch on the corner. “Business is improving. The expansion loan is almost paid back, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He came to her side. His tall, leanly muscled body brushing against hers sent a familiar rush of desire through her as he took the cloth from her hand. If the irritated look on his gorgeous face was any indication, he didn’t have the same reaction. “Stop it. I’m not worried about the money.”

  He’d always hated the bakery, and she loved it. She’d found herself here. Made a place for herself in a town she loved. “Then I don’t understand why you’re angry.” But of course she did, she just wished she didn’t.

  “It’s a good two-hour drive from my place. What do you do when the weather gets bad? Who looks after your son?” His gaze was probing yet wary, as if he knew the answer but hoped he was wrong.

  Grace stiffened at his reference to Jack Junior as her son and struggled to keep the emotion from her voice. “He’s our son,” she said quietly. “We live in your grandmother’s apartment. I sublet your place in Fort Carson. It didn’t make sense—”

  He threw the cloth on the table. “Is Jill upstairs?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “But, Jack, we need to talk about this…” His long, angry strides took him through the swinging doors before she finished. A few choice words popped in Grace’s head, but she didn’t let them out of her mouth. She didn’t swear, no matter the provocation. And she had lots of provocation. Jack had shut her down before, and she wasn’t going to let him do so again. The bakery was too important to her. Somehow she had to get him on board. Because if he decided to sell it out from under her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to forgive him.

  Grace was about to go after him when Madison, looking over her shoulder, entered the kitchen. She turned her attention to Grace and pulled a face. “Sorry, I had no idea he didn’t know about the bakery.”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t, either. I thought Jill told him.”

  “It’s gotta be hard for him to come home and find everything’s changed. But I’m sure once he gets used to it, he’ll be happy with what you’ve done to the place.”

  Grace absently picked up the cloth. “It’s not about the changes. When he found out Libby left us the bakery, he wanted to sell.”

  Madison stilled Grace’s hand with hers. “We’re here, so he must’ve changed his mind, right?”

  “No.” She didn’t like to talk about her personal life, but as her business partner, Madison deserved to know. “Jack wasn’t himself when he came back. He had a lot to deal with. I thought”—she shrugged—“it was a great opportunity for us, but he didn’t see it that way. He left before we’d settled anything, and then a few days later, we got word he was MIA. I needed the bakery more than ever then. I couldn’t make myself sell it.”

  “You said Jack used to do the bakery’s books, right?”

  “Yes.” Jack and his grandmother weren’t close, but he took care of everything for her. He was a man who took his responsibilities seriously. He’d never let hard feelings get in the way of doing what he felt was his duty.

  “Well, there’s the problem. I would’ve had the same reaction he did. But once he realizes how well the business is doing, he’ll be fine. If you want, I’ll go over the books with him.”

  “He more or less told me it’s not about the money. Jack didn’t get along with his grandmother. I think the bakery reminds him of that.”

  “After what he’s been through, I’m sure whatever happened between them will seem inconsequential in comparison. And even if he says the money doesn’t matter to him, it will once he sees how well you’re doing. You just have to sit him down and talk about it.”

  She wished it were that easy. “I’ll try.”

  “You do that. I don’t want anything to stand in the way of the bakery’s success.” Madison tapped her chin. “Let me write down a few talking points for you.”

  Twenty minutes into Madison’s talking-points presentation, Gage came looking for his wife. He glanced at the papers. “What are you up to?”

  “You saw how Jack reacted to Grace owning the bakery. I thought it would be helpful if she could hit him with some hard facts. Once he sees—”

  Gage rubbed the back of his neck. Madison stopped midstream. “I don’t like when you do that. You always say something I don’t want to hear.”

  “Give him a break, honey. He’s just come home. He has a lot to take in.”

  Gage was right. Grace should’ve followed Jack instead of letting Madison distract her. Granted, she had kind of welcomed the distraction. Part of her didn’t want to deal with Jack and the fallout over her decision to keep the bakery. “How angry is he, Gage? He and Jill aren’t going at it in front of Jack Junior, are they?”

  Gage gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “No. Jack Junior’s napping, and they were talking, civilly, when I left with the girls about fifteen minutes ago.”

  That didn’t mean they would be once they were alone. The siblings had both inherited the infamous Flaherty temper. “I’d better get up there.”

  “Just one more thing.” Madison went to jot something down. Gage snagged the pen from her. “Oh no, you don’t. Grace has to get upstairs, and we have to get home. Nell took the girls to her place. I figure we have the house to ourselves for an hour or two.”

  “Oh yeah?” Madison grinned, then gave Grace a quick hug. “We’ll talk tomor
row,” she said before asking her husband, “Did you mention the barbeque to Jack?”

  “Yeah. We thought we’d have a few people over Saturday for a Memorial Day barbeque,” Gage explained to Grace. “He said he was good with that. Okay with you?”

  “Yes, that’d be great. Thank you.”

  “Perfect. I’ll talk to Jack about the bakery’s very bright future then,” Madison said with a satisfied smile.

  Gage put his hands on his wife’s shoulders and steered her through the doors. “You’re going to be too busy cooking to do much talking, honey.”

  “You’re not serious, are you? I was joking about me cooking,” Madison protested as they walked to the front door.

  Following them onto the sidewalk, Grace smiled. She couldn’t help but wonder if she and Jack would ever get back that same easy familiarity.

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Nell says she’ll give you a hand.” Gage winked at Grace, checking the door she’d just locked before leading his grumbling wife away.

  Grace waved and opened the purple exterior door. As she climbed the narrow staircase, she listened for sounds of a knock-down drag-out fight. Surprisingly, it was quiet.

  She opened the door to their apartment and walked down the hall to glance in the living room on her right. Jill sat in the middle of the blue area rug with Jack Junior, surrounded by a pile of colorful wooden blocks. “Wow, nice… castle,” Grace guessed, dropping a kiss on her son’s head. “Where’s Jack?” she asked her sister-in-law.

  Jill canted her head toward the kitchen. “See how tall you can make it, buddy.” She came to her feet, following Grace into the other room. “He went for a run.”

  The last time they’d had a fight, Jack had left and disappeared from her life for seventeen months. Grace’s knees went weak, and she sank onto the straight-backed chair. “I wish you’d told me you didn’t say anything about the bakery to him. He was furious.”

  Arms crossed over her chest, Jill leaned against the counter. “I’m sure he wasn’t too happy about his son calling Sawyer ‘Da’ or the way the man was drooling over you, either.”