He stepped back to give her room to work, but not so far he couldn’t see every little thing she was doing. “Just as I was hoping.” He flashed her another devil-may-care grin.
Figuring as long as he was standing there, he might as well make himself useful, she handed him a potato peeler, while she peeled with the utility knife. “Stop stalling, Travis. What do you want for Christmas?”
He gazed into her eyes. “Besides you?”
Unable to maintain eye contact without thinking about making love to him again, she dropped her glance to the strong column of his throat and the crisp, curling hair visible in the open V of his button-down cotton shirt. He smelled so good. His body was just so big and warm and strong. “I’m serious, Travis.”
He quirked a brow at the increasingly pink contours of her face, seeming to know intuitively what she was thinking and feeling. “So was I.”
Silence fell between them. Holly reminded herself about the auction, and the fact that although Travis loved her and desired her, he wasn’t in love with her. And while she might be persuaded to settle for less, especially if “less” felt this good all the time, Travis would never be happy with that. He deserved more.
Hanging on to her resolve with everything she had, Holly stipulated, “I’m talking about a present I can buy.” She really wanted a hint about what to get for him! This year, especially, she wanted her gift to him to be right.
But Travis, it seemed, wasn’t the least bit interested in receiving. His lips curved into a sexy grin. “Ladies first. What can I get for you?”
More time…with you, Holly thought as she grabbed the dough she’d had rising and began on the cinnamon rolls. Just lots and lots of time….
But she couldn’t say that without putting him on the spot. So she shrugged, and said, “I don’t know.”
Travis watched her prepare the dough, roll it into a long log and then slice it into rounds. “You see?” As at home in her kitchen as his own, he got out two glasses and filled them with ice and lemonade from the fridge. “Not so easy, is it?”
Holly arranged the cinnamon rolls in a glass baking dish and covered them loosely with plastic wrap. She set them in a warm place, next to the stove to rise. In need of a break, and a little fresh air, she stepped outside onto the patio, then turned to Travis, who had followed. Over his shoulder, through the glass, she could see all four kids, still busily working on erecting their Christmas village.
Glad for this time together with him, in the brisk December air, with the sun peeking through the clouds, she sipped her lemonade.
Travis gave her a confident look. “What was the best gift you ever had?”
FOR A LONG MOMENT, Travis thought Holly wasn’t going to answer him. Not because she didn’t know, but because she was wary of getting too close to him too fast, of letting sexual intimacy lead to an even greater emotional intimacy. Although she’d sworn off romantic love, he was finally ready for that kind of commitment. The question was, how was he going to get the two of them on the same page without her feeling pressured or backed into a corner, in the way that her ex was currently trying to do? Travis knew they could wait. But he also knew how short life could be, and that made him impatient.
Holly looked over at him, as if in awe of how good it felt to simply hang out this way. “In my entire life?”
He nodded.
She sank down on a cushioned wicker love seat and drew him down beside her. He settled in happily, and when he rested an arm across the back of the seat, she let her head fall back against it. She sipped her lemonade and said, “When I was a senior in high school, my parents gave me the money I needed to take a trip to Paris with my art class. That was pretty incredible.”
Travis could imagine Holly there, then and now. He made a mental note to honeymoon there, when the time came. He buried his face in the fragrant softness of her hair. “What was the best gift you ever gave?”
She smiled as he nuzzled her temple, pressed another kiss on her brow, and snuggled closer. “I threw my parents a surprise anniversary party. Invited everyone they knew.” She glowed at the memory. “They were really happy.”
Travis stretched his legs out next to hers. The side of his thigh pressed into hers. The contact was warm and familiar, and he thought about kissing her again. “Your parents had a good marriage?”
“Oh, yes.”
“So did my folks,” he said softly.
Briefly, wistfulness lit her eyes. “I wish my marriage had lived up to the same standard.”
“Your next one will,” Travis told her.
She studied him, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “You seem so sure.”
He tapped her playfully on the tip of her nose. “That’s because I know you. And you deserve only the best.” He paused to kiss her lips, sweetly and tenderly. “And the next time around, you’ll get it.”
She set both their empty glasses on a table, then turned back and snuggled closer, hope shining in her pretty aquamarine eyes. “This is one time I hope you know what you’re talking about.”
“I do. But we digress.” He stroked a hand over her hair, aware how frequent moments like this could be if only they really joined forces and lived under the same roof. “What can I get you for Christmas?”
She relaxed even more into the curve of his body, looked deep into his eyes. “Anything you give me will be wonderful.”
Travis thought about his failure to please Diana in that regard, how often she’d taken his presents back to exchange them for something she really wanted. He didn’t want to make the same mistakes with Holly. “You say that now,” he said, worrying out loud.
“I mean it. Really, I do. You have exquisite taste. And a kind heart. And wonderful common sense.”
And A pluses in every category women looked for in a man, except one, Travis thought drily. “And no talent whatsoever in the kitchen.” Which could be, he realized belatedly, a reason she wouldn’t want to marry him. Because she felt if she did, she would either have to shoulder the cooking alone, or worse, share the task with him and eat the kind of premade fare he could serve up. Neither option was very palatable.
“Only because you haven’t learned how to cook anything that doesn’t come in a box or can. Once you put a little time in, I have no doubt you’ll be as good at that as you are at everything else.”
“Then that’s what I want for Christmas,” Travis said, determined to be as competitive as possible in every realm.
Holly sat up straight and blinked in surprise. “What?”
“I want cooking lessons—from you.”
AT FIRST, HOLLY DIDN’T think Travis was serious. But as soon as she realized he was, it put a whole new spin on things.
“And I want something else, too,” he continued, as the two of them collected their glasses and went back inside, just in time to hear the oven timer go off. “I want you to go to the silent auction with me tonight.”
Holly sighed. She should have known that they would eventually get back around to discussing the auction. After all, once Travis made his mind up that he wanted something, he was relentless in going after it.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” she said finally, appreciating how handsome and right Travis looked in her kitchen, being such an integral part of her life. “I’ll attend the silent auction with you tonight if you and your kids agree to spend tomorrow with me and my kids at the mall.”
“Shopping?” It was Travis’s turn to look pained. “But I suppose one sacrifice deserves another,” he quipped. Before she could speak, he pulled her beneath the mistletoe he had hung in her kitchen and kissed her soundly.
This time when their kids looked over and caught them, they merely smiled. The children were getting as used to his displays of affection as she was, Holly realized.
“So…” He let her go, bringing the conversation back to the original topic. “We have a deal.”
Because the evening was a black tie affair, Holly and Travis had dinner together at her house, quickl
y dispensed with the dishes and soon parted company. Knowing it would take her a lot longer to get ready than him, he took all four kids over to his place, to await the return of Mrs. Ruley.
Feeling a mixture of excitement she didn’t expect—and nerves because this was as close to a “date” as anything they’d done yet—Holly went upstairs and wandered to the back of her walk-in closet. There, on hangers, were a dozen gowns she hadn’t worn since she had become pregnant with the twins.
Fortunately, her tastes ran to the simple and classic, so it wasn’t hard to pick out a floor-length, black satin gown with a white satin bodice and Empire waist that would be perfect for the gala at the Kimball Museum. Delicate white-and-black jewelry, a warm black evening wrap and black stiletto heels completed the ensemble.
Enjoying the rare time to herself, Holly soaked in a luxurious bubble bath and spent as much time as she wanted applying her makeup. She put her hair up in an elegant twist, spritzed on her favorite perfume and then headed next door to join the others.
Travis was waiting, in the requisite black tuxedo and pleated white shirt. Christmas music was playing softly in the background. All four children were clad in their pajamas, lying around the base of the Christmas tree. Hands folded behind their heads, they were all studying the decorations and the sparkling lights, with sweet, dreamy expressions on their faces.
“How many more days until Christmas, Mommy?” Tucker asked.
Realizing this was the family they could have if she and Travis joined forces, the way he wanted, Holly knelt down near to the children. “Not counting today, four until Christmas Eve.”
Sophie yawned. “I sure wish Santa could bring me and Mia a mommy. If he did, I bet she’d look just like you, like a pretty princess.”
Seeing an opening, as well as a way to change the subject, Holly said gently, “Christmas isn’t just about receiving gifts. It’s about giving, too.”
Travis nodded. “That’s why we’re taking you shopping tomorrow. So you can get gifts for the people you love.”
“Like you and Holly and Mrs. Ruley,” Tristan said.
“And each other.” Holly bent to kiss and hug each child in turn.
“It’s going to be fun, isn’t it, Daddy?” Mia said, as Travis did the same.
They straightened just as the doorbell rang and Mrs. Ruley arrived. “Almost as fun as my evening with Holly tonight,” Travis promised with a cheerful wink.
TALK ABOUT SPEAKING TOO soon, Holly lamented silently, two excruciatingly long hours later. It wasn’t that there wasn’t a lot to look at—and bid on—because there was. Gifts, large and small, abounded. There were eclectic and traditional choices. There were also dozens of people, some of whom she knew and many others she was enjoying meeting. The problem was the one person she would have liked to have spent more time with, the one person she had her heart set on, was strictly out of bounds to her. A fact noted by Alexis McCabe.
With a matchmaker’s glint in her eyes, Grady’s wife noted with sympathy, “Can’t get near him, either, hmm?”
To the point, Holly mused, she was beginning to feel as if she had about as much Christmas spirit as The Grinch. “The news crews greeted Travis getting out of the car,” she told her friend. “I got pushed aside in the crush and came on in. As soon as he entered, he was wrangled to go stand with the other men being auctioned for dates and then was formally introduced to the crowd. After that, they had to pose for pictures for all the local news outlets. As soon as that ended, the real stampede began.”
Alexis looked over at the area where the silent auction was being conducted. Elegantly clad guests crowded the various exhibits, studying what was available, pausing to write down their bids and the secret ID numbers they had been assigned upon entering. Attached to every display was a sheet of paper where guests wrote down their bids, upping the amount of the previous one. The eligible men had been assigned booths where their photos and bios were displayed. All of them were also surrounded by female admirers, but Travis was literally swamped by women queuing up to talk to him. Organizers had been required to add additional pages to accommodate all the bids being placed for the New Year’s Eve date with him.
“From what I understand, because of the thing with Sophie and Mia and their wish for a mommy, Travis is deemed the most truly marriageable man here,” Alexis stated.
And probably the most eligible, if “sexy” was the only criteria, Holly thought, helping herself to a stuffed shrimp from the buffet table. “I know I shouldn’t complain.” She did her best to quash a beleaguered sigh. “It’s for a good cause.”
When it came to matters of the heart, Alexis was all about truth-telling. “Of course you should protest!” She eyed the buffet with the ravenous appetite of a pregnant woman, finally settling on the puff pastry stuffed with spinach, and artichoke dip. “Seeing the man you’re interested in up for grabs has to be torture! If Grady were on the auction block, I’d be out of my mind with misery,” she lamented softly.
That about covered it, Holly thought, unable to help but think how debonair Travis looked in his tux. In fact, he looked so spectacular tonight, he could give James Bond a run for his money. She turned back to the savvy matchmaker. “There’s a slight difference—you and Grady are married.”
Alexis shrugged and helped herself to another puff pastry, this one stuffed with chicken and cream cheese. “Given the breadth and depth of your arrangement with your next-door neighbor, it’s about the same thing.” She studied Holly with shrewd eyes. “Did you place a bid?”
“I thought about it,” she confessed.
“And?”
Holly winced. “With bids starting at one hundred dollars and going into the steep four figures already? It’s not practical.” Especially when she might have to pay a lawyer soon to help resolve whatever was happening with Cliff.
Alexis consoled her with a pat on the arm. “Oh, well, it’s only one night. And an arranged engagement for charity, at that. How fabulous could the date be?”
Alexis was right, Holly thought, as she noticed a notoriously sexy oil heiress taking sole command of Travis’s attention. He was doing this out of the goodness of his heart. It should definitely not be a big deal. So why did it matter so much? Holly wondered in dismay.
“AT WHAT POINT DID you stop speaking to me?” Travis asked with a frown.
Holly turned her glance toward the street, and away from the man in the driver’s seat, as they entered the subdivision where they lived. The houses were lit with festive lights, wreaths were on every door, Christmas trees prominently displayed. Travis even had her favorite orchestral Christmas music playing in his SUV. Yet Holly had never felt less yuletide spirit. Never felt less like giving or receiving.
She did her best to keep her heart on guard. “I don’t think I did.” All she wanted was for this travesty of a date to end.
“We’re driving home and you’re not talking to me. It’s sort of the same thing.” Smug male confidence radiated from him.
But then, why not? Holly thought. He’d spent the entire night having his ego bolstered by a parade of beautiful, available women.
Women who might one day make him feel what he’d felt for Diana—what he clearly did not feel for Holly. The truth was, they had started out as friends and probably would never be able to move beyond that.
Aware that he was waiting for some explanation, she said finally, “It was a long evening, a long day.”
He nodded. “And you’re jealous.”
Okay, that hit her where it hurt. For both their sakes, she pretended otherwise. “Can’t stop flattering yourself, can you, Mr. Eligible Bachelor?”
Travis grinned at her wry tone, pulled into her driveway instead of his, and cut the motor. At his home, the lights were out, except for the front porch and foyer. Presumably, because it was after midnight, all their kids and Mrs. Ruley were already asleep.
Travis stepped out of the car. “I’ll walk you inside.”
Holly felt a fluttering deep w
ithin her. She lifted a hand and stopped him from coming closer. “As I said, it’s late.”
He paused to let his gaze drift slowly over her. “And we still need to talk.”
“About?”
“Who won a date with me.”
Holly knew the number of the bidder by heart; she just didn’t know the identity, since all that information was privy only to the event organizers in order to protect everyone’s privacy. Holly hoped it wasn’t the rich young woman with the reputation of a sexual barracuda, but if it was, she couldn’t do anything about that, either. “I really don’t think I want to know that,” she replied in a saccharine tone.
He arched a mocking brow. “Sure?”
“Very!”
Grinning at her all too clear enunciation, he watched her unlock the door, and followed her inside. “Is this our first fight?”
Holly dropped her evening wrap onto the console in the hall, set her purse on top of it.
The sleeveless, strapless gown that had been perfect for an evening at the museum now left her feeling way too vulnerable and exposed. Not about to let him know that, however, she lifted her chin. “You are making a mountain out of a molehill.”
Travis undid his bow tie, leaving the ends to trail on either side of his stiff collar, and opened the first button on his pleated shirt. The overall effect was more devastatingly masculine than ever. “Would you like to know what kind of an evening it was for me?” he asked, studying her.
His quiet, understanding voice sent a shiver down her spine. “Ego building?”
His grin widened even as his brown eyes gentled. “Try excruciating.”
Steadying herself by grasping the banister, she slipped off her stiletto heels. The cool terrazzo floor under her stocking feet was wonderfully soothing. Still holding his eyes, she glided closer. “You really didn’t seem to be suffering all that much.”
A Mommy for Christmas Page 15