Alex smiled, letting out a whoosh of relief.
“Sounds like Mom.”
“I want to keep her here for two days. She’ll be on crutches for the next few weeks. Do you have someone to help take care of her after she goes home?”
“I live next door,” Jesse piped up. “But I’m gone most of the day.” She glanced over at Alex. “Would you like me to check in with her in the morning and at night?”
The doctor shook his head. “She’ll need someone to stay with her twenty-four-seven. I’ll have the nurses give you a list of businesses that provide visiting nurses.”
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Alex shook his head. “I’ll stay with her. It’s not a problem.”
“I gave her something to put her back to sleep tonight. So don’t be worried if she seems a little out of it right now.”
“Thank you so much.”
“No problem, Mr. King. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on a few other patients before I leave.”
Dr. Singh stared out the window at the snow still falling, muting and diffusing the lights of the building and adjacent parking lot. “I’m not even sure I’ll make it home.”
The doctor left a lot to think about in his wake.
Alex needed to pick up some clothes from his apartment, a few things from his office. But first, he had to call his brothers. They were going to tear his head off for waiting this long.
“Mr. King?” the blonde called out to him.
He was so off blondes. He didn’t count Zoe’s tousled brown hair with the blondish streaks in that group.
The woman thrust out her chest while the small, brown-haired nurse never so much as peeked up from her work at the computer. “Your mother has been transferred to room 203.”
“Thank you.” He headed toward the elevators with Jesse following right behind.
“If you have any questions,” Blondie called out,
“Just ask for Barbie.”
“Barbie.” Jesse giggled under her breath and looked down the hall at the nurse’s station. “Fits.”
“Shut up, Jesse.”
He couldn’t have been happier if it were the Pearly Gates opening up instead of the elevator doors. Alex punched the button for the second floor repeatedly as if it would close the door faster.
Jesse gave him a smirk. “Way to go, Cupcake.”
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A Perfect Bride for Christmas Chapter Eleven
The soft pillow hugged to her chest didn’t bring a Zoe a lick of comfort. She sat curled up on the big, cushy sofa, feet swathed in heavy wool socks, as she watched a documentary on the West Indies with its voodoo and pirates. Usually she loved the History Channel but today, she couldn’t concentrate. Even the jasmine tea she loved cooled on the end table.
What she really needed was a good dose of chocolate.
The image of a voodoo priestess in the throes of religious ecstasy blurred. She gripped the sleeve of her flannel pajamas with her hand to wipe the tears streaming down her face. How dare Alex send her a letter like that and expect her to take it on the chin?
Good old Zoe. Everyone’s doormat. Well, he didn’t know the new Zoe.
She wished she had a voodoo doll. One dressed in a swanky gray suit, with Alex’s face plastered on the front—along with a bazillion pins to stick into it.
He deserved every bit of pain she could give him. A prick for a prick.
Yesterday, he’d cut her off in the middle of her righteous fury. It didn’t matter that he’d tried to call back several times. The minute the caller ID popped up on her phone, she disconnected. She couldn’t talk to him until she got herself under control. Zoe Bennett was a strong woman, not some shrilling hag, or a hysterical, sobbing screamer.
Her nose started to run.
If her nose ran, her eyes were puffy. It was a good thing she kept tissues all over the house for the 99
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kids. She grabbed one up to give her nose a good blow.
Darn it, the first day she’d had away from the business, as well as the kids, and Alex had ruined that as well. All she could think about were voodoo curses and chocolate.
Alex planned to pirate her children away.
She’d bet more than one buccaneer suffered under a voodoo curse. Zoe grew antsy sitting alone in the big house and thinking about Alex. Maybe she could find something in the Yellow Pages under
‘hexes’.
Probably not. She could find a hit man sooner than she could locate a local voodoo priestess. She’d check on EBay. EBay had everything under the sun for sale.
Zoe pulled another tissue from the box on the end table to dab at her eyes.
The craving for chocolate grew stronger.
All the old insecurities reared their ugly heads.
She heard the old tapes, or nowadays, it would be MP3s playing in her head. She was worthless. She didn’t deserve anything nice. What man would want her? Who would love her?
Intellectually, she knew they were empty words.
Still, the need to feed her demons urged her towards the kitchen. She threw the pillow back on the couch and stuffed the damp tissue into the pocket of her blue flannel pajamas. The clock might read past noon, but it was easier to sulk in comfy pajamas.
She’d needed time by herself, time to figure out her next step. Alex’s demand for the DNA test hurt.
It didn’t matter that she’d tried to deny his paternity—she didn’t want him involved with the girls’ lives. At least not on his terms. They belonged to her. It was her choice when she told them about their father.
She pulled the tissue out from her pocket and 100
A Perfect Bride for Christmas wiped her nose.
Logically, she knew she couldn’t have it both ways, but her heart wanted things to go back the way they were, before Alex came back into her life.
Maybe she should’ve stayed in St. Louis. It had been home for over four years. But Kansas City was in her blood. Zoe had known the risks, but she didn’t want to deal with them. Not yet.
Her brain felt tighter than a knot with someone pulling on both ends of the string. A headache thumped at the front of her skull, the kind of headache only a chocolate chip cookie could cure.
The now-soggy tissue ended up in the trash.
Cherri took the girls out on a day trip to the grand opening of a ‘build-a-toy’ store at their local shopping mall. Cabin fever set in hard with the bad weather. The girls were bouncing off walls until it she had a choice of either brave the roads or stuff them in a closet and throw away the key. Zoe knew she’d never do anything so heinous but at times, she felt tempted. One child getting into trouble was disastrous, three disintegrated into chaos.
Everyone cheered when the street crews finally had things cleared enough to save everyone’s sanity.
Guilt filled her for a split second as she got out the stepstool. The ghost of the old Zoe whispered in her ear: One cookie couldn’t hurt. Could it?
She reached into the cabinet, behind the canned goods where she’d stashed the bag of cookies from Cherri and the girls.
Her hand stopped.
This was so stupid. She let a man drive her to her drug of choice. Again.
Her front doorbell rang at the same time she reached for the cookies again. Great timing on the part of the Powers That Be. She closed the cabinet door and jumped off the stepstool. The doorbell rang again.
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“I’m coming.” She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice, but she really wanted the cookie.
Alex stood on the doorstep, looking as delicious as the longed for cookie. Today, he seemed so different. Funny, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him in jeans before. Denim molded his long legs in ways that made the flutter in her heart head southward and land smack dab between her legs.
She licked her lips, remembering the taste of him, the feel of his lips as they worked her mouth in ways that still made her toes
curl. The kiss in her store had fueled erotic dreams for the next couple of nights. It wasn’t often a woman got to sample so much sin in one little kiss.
She squirmed in embarrassment, tinged with anger. No one had the right to look so sexy when she was so mad at him.
The cold wind ruffled Alex’s dark hair into a delightful mess. He hadn’t shaved. A shadowy dusting of whiskers graced his jaw. The white sweater and tan bomber jacket gave him a rakish quality, much like the pirates in the documentary, but a modern day pirate. All he needed was an eye patch.
Zoe stayed frozen in place until Alex gave her a thousand watt smile, as if nothing were wrong.
His grin sparked the fuse on the powder keg of her heart.
She gave the door a hefty shove to slam it into his handsome dimpled face. Maybe he’d need an eye patch after all. Yo ho ho. She’d have to change the suit on the voodoo doll to jeans and a leather jacket, along with a black eye.
“Wait, wait,” Alex yelped as he shouldered his way into the living room. He rubbed at his arm where it took the brunt of the heavy wooden door’s impact. “What is wrong with you?”
Here she stood, in flannel pajamas, gray wool 102
A Perfect Bride for Christmas socks, not to mention a red nose, and he had the nerve to ask what was wrong? “I think you’ve got it backward. You’re the one with the problem. Go away, now isn’t a good time. I’m watching television, the History Channel to be exact, so leave. Pirates, voodoo and all that.”
“I tried calling several times, but it went straight to voice mail.”
“I know. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You’re the one who contacted me in the first place. Where do you get off calling me a son of a bitch? Why? What do you want?”
“A couple of long nasty pins to stick in your eyes.”
“Huh?” He stepped back, looking perplexed and a little pissed.
Zoe waved her hands in an erasing motion.
“Sorry, I’m just fantasizing.”
“I prefer my fantasies to be a little friendlier.”
“No doubt,” she snapped before catching the rest of the verbal vomit she came close to spewing.
“Look.” Alex rubbed his nose. “I’m sorry if I seemed a bit abrupt when you called, but I was waiting for my mother to come out of surgery.”
The news deflated Zoe’s anger down to a puff of displeasure. “Is she okay?” She’d been ready to rip him a new one, and Amelia had been hospitalized.
“Yes, she broke her ankle and will be out of commission for several weeks.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She pulled in a deep breath, then let it out. “I called you about the letter I received yesterday.”
“I never sent you a letter.”
“Liar.” Anger swelled in her chest again, pressing down on her heart, squeezing her lungs until it became difficult to breathe. She went to a table against the wall and opened the drawer. Her hands shook as she took out the letter she received 103
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from the courier. Zoe held it out to him. “Look familiar?”
Alex slipped the letter from the envelope. His face took on the look she’d grown familiar a long time ago. Hard—gearing up for a fight. “Son of a bitch.” He glanced up, his eyes snapping blue fire. “I never authorized this.”
“Then explain to me why I would get the letter if you never sent it.” She’d learn to read his body language like a book. “Someone else knows about the girls and their paternity, don’t they?”
A flush of red colored his cheeks. “I told Tommy Dunne. Remember him?”
“Like I’d forget the other Musketeer in our ill advised marriage.”
“He said it would be wise to have a DNA test done. I agreed on principle. There would be less of a hassle over legal matters if anything happened to me. They would be assured of their share of my estate, but you have to believe me, I never gave the go ahead on this.” Alex thumped the letter with his hand. “This is something I wanted to discuss with you first. We need to clear the air. It’s not just the children. It’s you, me, my family.”
“Typical Alex. Me, me, me, my.” Zoe’s shoulders slumped. “Who else did you tell?”
“Just Mom. She’d already figured it out. Jesse Saur, a family friend, and Sydney.” He held his hands up in defense. “Before you go all Kung-Fu on me, just hear me out.” Alex pointed to his ear. “I told you about the King Notch. All of us boys have it, but the girls have the birthmark as well. It’s been in our family on my father’s side for generations. Mom noticed it.”
“That’s just peachy.”
“You know they’re mine. Why won’t you admit it?” He stared down at her, his eyes blazing. “Unless you think I’d be monster enough to take them away 104
A Perfect Bride for Christmas from you?”
She blushed under his scrutiny. He’d seen into her, fished out her worst fear to dangle it like bait in front of her. “After the letter, I didn’t know what to think. I still don’t know how this is going to impact my kids.”
The heat in his eyes died down. Alex took her hand and led her to the couch. “Our kids.” He pulled her down beside him, keeping her hand in his.
“Wow, that’s just—it’s hard to take in all at once.”
“Wait until the OBGYN tells you you’re going to have two instead of one. I thought twins were scary enough. Macy came first, then Michaela but surprise, Mia made an appearance.”
“She’s the shy one?”
“Yes, even in the ultrasounds. She hid behind the other two.”
His hands gripped her fingers so hard she let out a gasp. Alex relaxed his hold enough to rub soothing circles over the top of her fingers. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how much I envy James Bennett. I could’ve made the effort to find you after—but...
The sensation of a hundred electric shocks swirled over her skin, the simple contact bringing back memories of the way he’d touched her five years ago.
“I chose to cut off communication. Maybe I should’ve told you the moment I found out I was pregnant.” Zoe extracted her hand from his, her mind in a whirlwind of emotion, tears near the surface again. “Alex, I know you, or at least the man you were five years ago. I’ve said it before. A child didn’t rank high up on your lists of priorities. Even now, I see you falling back into old patterns with your choice of fiancées. I’m sure Sydney is the perfect wife for you, but not as a stepmother to my children—our children.”
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Alex pulled away, nodding and clasped his hands, letting them dangle between his knees. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not marrying Sydney.”
“What?” She thought he said he wasn’t marrying Sydney ‘The Snake’ Stanford.
“I said Sydney canceled the wedding.”
“Why?”
“She got into a snit about the wedding plans and called the whole thing off. It goes deeper than that but it was the breaking point—for both of us.”
“I’m sorry.” Zoe let out a sigh of relief. “That’s a lie. Now the girls won’t have to associate with her.
They’re amazing kids and I was so worried about Sydney’s influence.”
“You’re right.” Alex kept his eyes down but suddenly, he turned his head and gave her that dose of double dimples. Her breath clogged in her throat.
“I came to that conclusion when I first met them. I don’t know how you did it.”He shook his head. “I want to get to know them, but I’m not going to demand they see me, if it’s going to hurt their—
wellbeing or whatever might screw them up.” He shot her a quick look. “Believe me, that’s the last thing I want.”
She tried to harden her heart against him. As Cherri was fond of saying, Well great Jupiter’s jockstrap, how’s that workin’ for you? She still felt anger but not the solid block of ice she’d built around the core of her heart when it came to him.
Without thinking, Zoe reached over and place
d her hand on his shoulder. Go figure. One minute, she wanted to drive sharp objects into his eyes, the next, she wanted to comfort him. “We’ll figure this out. It’s not like neither of us are blameless.” Without warning, the tears she’d been holding back flooded her eyes.
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A Perfect Bride for Christmas Chapter Twelve
Alex gripped the hand resting on his shoulder like a lifeline, watching a flurry of emotions skittering through those fantastic eyes. They glittered green with tears. For the first time, he looked beyond his own mental upset and noticed her puffy eyelids and red nose. “You’ve been crying.”
It hit him full force in the gut. He’d been the cause of her pain. All of it.
“You just now figured that out?” She grabbed for a tissue in the box next to the couch. Instead, he stopped her hand, and without thinking, pulled her into his arms. There wasn’t any logic to his actions.
Just the need to comfort her, to hold her long enough for the poison he’d dealt to seep back where it belonged—into him.
The warmth of her body against his melted and twisted his heart into a sloppy mess. Tears stung his eyes. The last time he’d cried like a baby, he’d been sure he’d killed Heath with a rock he’d packed inside a snowball. Clint took one look at the blood gushing from Heath’s forehead and told Alex he’d committed murder, Abel and Cain—all that stuff from that week’s Sunday School lesson. Not only would he be dragged away to jail, he’d to go hell.
This hell felt worse than any hell-bound murderer a snarky older brother could invent.
“Don’t cry, Zoe.” He tasted salt, felt wetness on his face. “Please, don’t cry.” Her soft mewling left him gut-sick and scared the shit out of him.
Zoe’s body heaved with a heartrending sob. She 107
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wrapped her arms around him, her head burrowing into his chest. “I thought you were going to take them away from me. I won’t let that happen.” The last words came out in a watery snarl.
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