Perfect Bride for Christmas, A

by Dyann Love Barr

  Alex smiled down at her. “Thank you for this.”

  He held up the envelope and DVD, then put them back on the table. “You’ve given me so much that I’m— I’m—at a loss for words.” His leaned down to skate a kiss over her cheek, his breath sweet with lemon and mixed with the earthiness of coffee.

  Its warmth made her tremble and whimper with need.

  He pulled away, his eyes questioning, his hands framing her face. “This doesn’t feel wrong. God help me, it doesn’t.”

  His hand moved from her cheek to cup the back her head as the kiss moved to her lips, nipping, tasting. She captured his breath in her mouth. Her tongue stroked his, tangling in a hot mesh of passion.

  Alex’s hand glided under her sweater, his fingers feathering up her torso to graze the underside of her breasts. His thumb found her bra-covered nipple, turning it into a hot beacon that begged for his touch.

  She needed to touch him, to feel the ripped muscles under his light blue shirt. His tie fell to the 171

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  floor. Her hands worked the buttons on his shirt, tugging the tail from his expensive slacks. The feel of his heart racing under her hand, his fevered skin, made her giddy with power. She did this to him. She reveled at the way his muscles bunched at the touch of her nails scraping his nipple, tangling in the soft hair of his chest. And it was wrong.

  “Stop, we have to stop.” Zoe drew in a shattered breath. “We can’t do this.”

  Alex’s eyes were hot blue with only a trace of black around the irises. The muscles of his jaw bunched as he stepped away, his hands dropping to his side. “I know, I know.”

  Zoe pushed past him and rushed to the small bathroom off the kitchen. She turned on the faucet to splash her heated cheeks.

  The tears could come later. Why had she left herself open to this? She had to be the most pathetic woman in the world. Old fears crowded her. Had she allowed him to use her as a way to destroy the image of Zoe the Chubby Best Friend forever?

  It surprised her to find him sitting the couch, waiting. It aggravated her to find him perfectly dressed, not a hair out of place. He glanced up at her with a practiced distance, as if nothing had happened in the kitchen.

  “Oops, we almost did it again,” she paraphrased a Brittany Spears song as she tried for nonchalance.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to eat at that table with my kids. This could turn out to be an expensive hobby—I can’t buy new furniture every time you want to screw my brains out.” Zoe plopped on the other end of the couch. “That’s what would’ve happened if we hadn’t come to our senses when we did, hmm?

  “Don’t say things like that.” He shot her an angry look. “I’ll buy you a goddamned new table.”

  “You want to tell me what’s really going on 172

  A Perfect Bride for Christmas inside your head?”

  Alex sat hunched over, his hands clasped between his legs. “I don’t know what’s going on.

  Everything is a jumble. I’m supposed to marry Sydney in a few days and now—”

  “You better figure it out pretty quick.” She hugged one of the pillows to her chest. “I’d say you have a real problem if the episode in the kitchen is anything to go by. Alex, I’m going to tell you something.” Zoe pulled in a deep breath. She decided to lay it all on the line. Time to stop pretending. “I love you, I always have—even James felt a shadow over our marriage. I wanted what happened in there.”

  The stunned expression on his face had her holding up her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to make any demands on you.

  “Wow.” Alex shook his head. “I mean, wow.” He let out a heavy sigh. “So you lied the other day when you said it was just sex?”

  “Yeah, that’s me, little old lying, grab-the-gold-ring-while-she-can, Zoe.”

  He winced at the reminder of that day in Vegas.

  “It’s just that I don’t know what to say.”

  “Oh, don’t go all emotional on me, Alex. I’m not asking you to give up Sydney. It’s just an added wrinkle I need to work around.” She glanced down at her watch. “It’s about time to open up the shop.” Zoe got to her feet and retrieved his coat and scarf. “I’ll call Amelia about the menu and bring over some samples on the twenty-second.”

  Alex got to his feet and took his things. “This isn’t over, Zoe.”

  She gave him a smile and a gentle push towards the door. “It is for me. I’m not sure how well this just being friends is going to work. Don’t worry, I’ll live without you. I have for the past five years.”

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  Chapter Eighteen

  Alex stopped by his apartment to pick up a few clothes and check his mail. Sydney should be with his mother—but who knew anymore. She had a habit of pulling a Houdini and slipping out without letting anyone knowing her plans. Mom said she didn’t need a babysitter, but Alex didn’t want to leave her alone too long. She’d be out shoveling snow if he didn’t watch her. Maybe that’s where Clint got his stubbornness. The guy couldn’t catch a break on his stables in Kentucky. If something could go wrong, it landed on Clint’s doorstep. But his brother wouldn’t give up.

  He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

  The apartment seemed strange, like he no longer lived here. He’d started to pack a few things in boxes. His lease was up at the end of the month.

  The dirty clothes, still slung over the back of the dining room chair, belonged to him, but everything felt alien. It didn’t matter. In a few days, he’d be out of this place. But where? Maybe he and Sydney could stay with Mom until he could find the kind of house suitable for three little girls and a Walter. The loft was out of the question.

  Alex peeled off his coat and suit jacket and threw them over the top of the chair with the other clothes. He picked up the DVD Zoe gave him, putting it in the player. He looked around for the television remote. Alex searched for it, moving magazines and stray socks around on the coffee table—nothing. Frustration grew until he found it 174

  A Perfect Bride for Christmas stuck between the couch cushions. He flopped down on the soft tan leather, kicked off his shoes, and hit play. He didn’t know what to expect. The first scenes were videos of sonograms with a voice-over of a man, Alex supposed to be James, and Zoe talking about twins. There, in the grainy black and white, he could see the hearts of his daughters beating fast and full of life. His chest squeezed tight with emotion.

  Somehow, in his bumbling, he’d helped to create these children.

  Alex dashed his hand over his face. Tears again.

  If this kept up, he’d be a basket case.

  Now they were in the hospital, so small and fragile. Tubes ran from their tiny bodies as they lay in incubators. Little fists opened and closed. Zoe said they had been premature. James, dressed in green scrubs, with his face covered by a surgical mask, held one of the girls. He rocked and fed the baby.

  She was so small it tore at Alex. Which one was it?

  Macy, Michaela or Mia? A surge of jealousy mixed with anger. Damn it, he should have been there, holding them instead of watching a bunch of pixels on a screen.

  He felt hollow.

  Then Zoe appeared on screen, still overweight but glowing in a way he’d never seen. She cradled three pink bundles in her arms. Her smile tore at Alex’s heart.

  “This is probably the only time they’ll be asleep at the same time,” Zoe whispered. “It’s going to be chaos the minute we get home.”

  Home. Alex wanted to throw the remote at the television.

  Off screen, he heard a man’s voice. “I don’t care.

  They’re perfect, and I love them. I love you.”

  Zoe leaned down to place kisses on the babies’

  heads. “I love you, too.”

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  “Here, get in the picture, Dad.” The female voice had to be the nurse or an aide.

  Alex got his first look at the real James. T
all and thin, pasty white with big brown eyes. He appeared to be older, maybe fifteen years older, than Zoe. But Alex couldn’t mistake the way he looked at Zoe or Alex’s daughters. Pure, unadulterated love.

  He leaned over and kissed Zoe on the mouth. His hand smoothed a long lock of light brown hair from her face.

  “Look at the camera, Mommy, let the world see how beautiful you are.”

  Zoe flushed, reached up and brought James’ face down for another kiss

  “You have a gorgeous family, Mr. Bennett,” the nurse said.

  In that moment, Alex hated James Bennett. No, he amended, he envied him and mourned the loss of being with his kids as they grew older. Of knowing Zoe better, loving her better than Alex ever could.

  He continued to watch the Bennett family play.

  Picnics, trips to the zoo, and other normal family stuff dominated the digital scrapbook. With each frame, a soul deep ache filled Alex.

  One their third birthday, each one received a different gift: Michaela got a set of Lego building blocks, Mia a dress up set, and Macy opened the gift wrap to reveal the Dora doll.

  He remembered the doll. And Zoe in the kitchen, Kissing him, almost ready to make love on the table.

  At least he had the knowledge that James hadn’t seen her writhing and begging for more. Alex felt glad Bennett hadn’t been able to give Zoe the physical side of marriage. Mean-spirited jealousy clawed at his heart.

  When the video ended, Alex turned off the television and tossed the remote on the table with the rest of the mess. He lay back on the couch to 176

  A Perfect Bride for Christmas stare at the ceiling, waiting for some great revelation.

  Zoe had never had another man. A primal surge filled his veins. Zoe belonged to him. Not James Bennett, but Alex King, the father of Zoe’s children.

  The caveman inside him grunted and pounded his chest.

  Then the unbidden thought hit him like a sledgehammer to the back of the head. What if she remarried?

  Alex sat up and swung his legs over the side of the couch. There wasn’t enough antacid in the world to rid him of the gut-sick feeling roiling around in his belly.

  He ran into his bedroom and pulled open his sock drawer, rummaging around until he found a small box. Inside were odds and ends—keys he couldn’t remember what they unlocked, old driver’s licenses, buttons that had come off of shirts he no longer owned. And a small gold band.

  Zoe’s wedding ring.

  Alex prowled around the room, slipping the thin cheap band over his pinky finger, again and again.

  He couldn’t, in all good conscience, keep her from marrying another man. It wouldn’t be right to snatch happiness away from her but the memory of the soft slopes of her breasts, the curves of her hips under his fingertips waged a war inside his heart.

  And Sydney stood on the sidelines, ready to walk down the aisle. Alex palmed the wedding ring Zoe threw at him the night she left and thrust it into his pocket. He remembered what it felt like to hurt when the person you thought you wanted to spend your life with left you, alone and humiliated at the altar. He couldn’t do it to Sydney.

  But for the one brief hour or so, when he thought he no longer had an obligation to her, he felt free.

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  ****

  Alex waited outside Sydney’s room. He needed to talk to her, convince her to postpone the wedding until next year. Part of him still loved Sydney but it wasn’t strong enough to build a marriage on, not with all the changes in his life. Not the way he felt right now. Zoe’s words still hammered I his heart. I love you. I always have. The bedroom door opened. Sydney stepped into the hall, dressed to go for an evening out. “Alex.” She seemed surprised to find him there.

  “We need to talk.”

  Sydney peered up at him through her lashes.

  “I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. I don’t know how to be a stepmother. On top of all the planning for the wedding… My migraines. You understand.”

  “You can tell the girls you’re sorry, as well as Zoe. It was an accident, nothing more. I’ll buy you more ski boot.” He took her hand, rubbing little circles over the top. Funny, he’d never realized how thin and bony her fingers were. “That’s not what I want to talk about.”

  “I’m really in a hurry.” She shook her head, her long blonde hair rippled like silk in the hallway light. “Sherry Collins invited me out to dinner quite a while ago. I told you last night. Oh, and don’t forget Mother and Daddy expect us for lunch tomorrow.”

  “That all depends on what’s going on around here, especially with Mom’s ankle. I’m sure Lyle and Paula will understand. Look, this is important.”

  A pinched look came over Sydney’s beautiful face. “So is dinner with my best friend.”

  “Heath and Clint are arriving tonight. At least stay long enough to meet them.”

  “I’ve already called for a car. You know how much I hate driving in this sort of weather. He’ll be 178

  A Perfect Bride for Christmas here any minute. Whatever you have to say can wait, can’t it?”

  She smiled at him with an expectant look on her face, her hand came to rest on his chest. Elegant fingers wove circles over his heart. “You know, I’m sure Sherry wouldn’t mind if you crashed our dinner. Who knows, maybe we could go back to the loft for a couple of hours. It’s been a while since we made love. I don’t feel like I can even kiss you without your mother giving me evil looks.”

  He couldn’t deny Mom made it clear any messing around with Sydney wouldn’t be tolerated.

  “I’m sorry. Mom asked us to be here tonight. It means a lot to her.”

  Sydney nodded. “I understand, I really do.” Her lashes hid her eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking,” He stuffed his hands in his jeans pocket as her tried to find the right words.

  “Once Clint and Heath arrive, there’s no need for you to stay here. Mom is doing better than I expected. You’ve got all your stuff at the loft, you might as well use it.”

  “Are you going back to your apartment?” Sydney opened her purse to check the contents, rummaging around until she found a small compact and inspected her face.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Then I’ll stay here.” She closed the compact with a snap and a smile.

  “Why? You’re never here anyway.”

  “I feel better being around you.” A flicker of fear shot through her eyes. “I love you so much but I’m feeling a little insecure right now. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” She threw the compact back into her purse with a snap of her wrist. Her cell phone chirped. She reached into the pocket of her elegant black wool coat and took the call. “Okay, I’ll be out in a minute.” She ended the call and slipped the phone 179

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  back into her pocket.

  “Your ride?”

  Sydney nodded. “Yes, he’s waiting.”

  “Then go. We’ll talk later.” He brushed her face with his lips. The next second she threw her arms around him to give him a kiss that tasted of desperation. Her tongue slid over his mouth, begging for entrance. He pulled away. A chill slithered through him. Maybe he was tired, too full of coffee but he felt nothing more than a faint stirring.

  It was obvious she’d expected more of a response to her kiss.

  “Don’t wait up.” She took a step back, her face tight with anger. “I have the key your mother gave me, I’ll let myself in.”

  “Sure, fine.” Alex watched her trip down the stairs. He really didn’t want to hurt Sydney. How could he tell her he didn’t love her the way he had the day he asked her to be his wife?

  Then there was Lyle’s threat. He’d make good on it too, Alex had no delusions there. Alex didn’t care if James Bennett left the girls a shitload of money; he wanted to support them. To do that, he had to work.

  The simplest solution would be to marry Sydney—

  the best was a life with Zoe and his children.
He couldn’t have both.

  Alex went to his room and flopped down on the bed. His old room had been converted into a guest room. The once tan walls were now a soft lavender with white crown molding. The bedspread had a definite girly feel to it. He threw his forearm over his eyes. Everything and everyone seemed out to emasculate him.

  If he were to get his life under control, he’d have to do it soon. He let out a sigh of exasperation and glanced at his watch. He had enough time to call the girls and see how their day went.

  “Zoe, here,” she answered on a giggle mixed with 180

  A Perfect Bride for Christmas a hint of exasperation.

  He bathed in the sound of her voice, let it wash over him, soothe his mind. “Hey, it’s Alex. Did I call at a bad time?”

  “Oh, hi, No, I just got out of the shower and found my bath talc all over the floor. I’m standing here, dripping wet with three white, guilty faces staring at me. They are so busted.”

  Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. He pictured the girls standing there, looking like midget mimes. The idea of Zoe, wet and fresh from her shower, her body swathed in nothing but a yellow bathsheet, made him hard as a rock. He pressed his palm against his erection, willing it to subside.

  “I, ah…just wanted to find out about their day but I guess that pretty much says it all.”

  “That’s for sure. It’s a snow day and I guess they slipped the leash.”

  “Where’s Cherri?”

  “Downstairs, fixing their supper.”

  “Is she supposed to be their nanny?” A moment of panic gripped his heart. “What the hell did she think would happen if she didn’t keep an eye on them?”

  “Alex,” her tone changed, grew harder. “You can’t watch them twenty-four-seven, no matter how much you try. Sometimes incidents like this happen.”