by Lisa Plumley
Nicole did, too. As Reid watched, his younger daughter pointed at Karina’s scarf—a pink spangled thing that looked as though it belonged at the Barbie Dream House. (Reid knew more about the Barbie world at large than was probably recommended for an adult his age—or anyone else.) In response to Nicole’s interest, Karina removed her scarf, flipped it over Nicole’s shoulders, then performed an elaborate knot-tying maneuver.
The end result explained why Karina had needed him to intervene with her tangled scarf the other day…but it appeared to thrill his daughter. As though she were on a Paris runway, Nicole marched with kooky high-legged steps alongside the paddock fence, stopped to strike a pose, then giggled and came back.
Reid had never seen his daughters act so…girlishly.
What was going on here? Sure, he got along famously with Josh, Michael, and Olivia; that was true. But Reid’s instant rapport with the Barrett kids wasn’t the same as this. It wasn’t the same as Karina causing his two multilingual, globe-trotting, sari-owning, stubbornly individualistic preteenagers to suddenly morph into the modern-day equivalent of California Valley Girls.
“Name?” Nate pushed. “Rank? Serial number? Anything?”
Reid blinked. What were they…? Oh yeah. Karina’s name.
“Sorry, Nate. She’s Karina Barrett. Just another guest. From California. San Diego. And her three kids.” Reid watched her. “Yep,” he confirmed pointlessly. “Just another guest.”
Nate grinned, then shook his head. “If she’s just another guest to you, then I’m the Sugar Plum Fairy.”
“Really? The Nutcracker? You like that stuff?”
“Hey.” A mock threatening frown. “Don’t diss higher culture, dude, just because you feel vulnerable right now.”
“Speak for yourself. I don’t get vulnerable.” To prove it, Reid smiled. “Hey—don’t you have a sleigh ride to orchestrate?”
Nate gave an affirmative sound. “Which reminds me—if the Edgware deal goes through, will the new franchisee still keep the horses on-site? I promised Angela I would check on that.”
Surprised, Reid glanced at him. “You know about Edgware?”
Nate shrugged. “Most of the town does. We’re pretty bummed about it actually. I’d hate to see another business sell out.”
“Lagniappe at the Lakeshore wouldn’t mind.”
“Maybe. Business has been pretty bad lately. I guess they probably need all the advantages they can get over there.”
“You sound as though you feel sorry for them.”
“I do.” Semiapologetically, Nate spread his arms. “I’m a lifetime Kismet resident. I plan to stay here, no matter what. My loyalties are probably a little different from yours.”
Since you’re leaving after the holidays, Nate’s expression said. You big Scrooge. It was an accurate—if unspoken—appraisal. If he did everything right, Reid figured, he and the girls could be back on the road by New Year’s Day, with Amanda in tow.
“Probably.” Reid couldn’t argue the truth. The longer he was in town, the more he realized it: Everyone in Kismet felt unswervingly loyal to the place. That allegiance seemed to apply to The Christmas House too. All the townspeople who’d dropped by to volunteer or visit had told him they wished the Sullivans could keep running the B&B—especially during Christmastime.
No wonder his grandparents had summoned Reid from the other side of the world. He was, quite literally, the only unsentimental person Robert and Betty Sullivan knew. He was the only person who could—and wanted to—make sure the Edgware sale succeeded.
Speaking of which…If the secret evaluator had come out for the inaugural sleigh ride, he (or she) was probably getting tired of waiting. Reid clapped his hands, then spoke up to summon everyone. “Okay, we’re just about to get started!”
From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Karina. She turned to face the sleigh, wearing a childlike expression of wonder—and downright eagerness, too. Earlier, she’d stifled her inner horse-crazy girlishness. He didn’t want her to similarly stifle her inner holiday-loving hedonist…which Reid knew damn well she’d do, given half a chance.
“Nate and I will take out the first group in a few minutes. Then we’ll proceed in order from there, so that everyone gets a sleigh ride,” he told his guests. “In the meantime, we have hot cocoa and apple cider donuts to keep everyone warm, along with some lessons in making snow angels and building snow forts.”
“Yay! Snowball fights!” some of the kids shouted.
Smiling, Reid signaled to The Christmas House staff, who’d brought along the goodies and other supplies. At his nod, they lined up everyone behind a red-and-white candy-striped velvet rope, turned on some holiday tunes, and kicked off the activities. His guests cheered. Amanda, along with the B&B worker who usually dealt with the kids’ Fun Zone activities, rounded up the children.
With that dealt with, Reid approached Karina. “Let’s go. You and the kids are in the first group.”
“Us?” She tapped her well-bundled chest. “But we can’t be first. We’re…Well, you’ve already made an exception to let Olivia—and me—feed the horses.” Prettily, Karina blushed. “Which was very nice of you. But you should take someone else first. There’s no reason we should get special treatment.”
She seemed alarmed by the very idea. He didn’t know why.
“There’s every reason you should get special treatment,” Reid told her, smiling. “But the reason that matters right now is that I don’t want to make my introductory sleigh ride with anyone else. I want to take you first. You and the kids.”
Reid gestured at them. All five had already clambered into the sleigh. Now they chatted amiably with Nate. Michael waved his arms. Nicole laughed. Josh pantomimed feeding a horse—and being a horse. Olivia held her nose, making some sort of joke. Even Alexis, seated tantalizingly close to the sleigh’s radio and GPS unit, ignored those gadgets in favor of twirling her hair and borrowing Olivia’s lip gloss.
“See?” Reid pointed out. “Ordinarily, my daughter Alexis would be hacking into the radio and reprogramming the GPS unit to take us to the Upper Peninsula for homemade fudge. But even she’s mellowed out.”
And embarked on a makeover program. Taken aback by his daughter’s primping, Reid did a double take. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Alexis or Nicole actually primp for something.
“I’m glad. She’s a sweet girl. So is Nicole,” Karina said sincerely. She wrung her mittened hands together. “But I don’t want to be treated differently than any other guest. Okay?”
It seemed important to her. Reid couldn’t imagine why.
“You already have been treated differently,” he pointed out with a grin. “Or did you think I greeted all my guests with a—”
“Stop right there!” Blushing again, Karina cut him off before he could describe any of the tantalizing, mind-bending, entirely X-rated things they’d done together. “I’ll admit, your ‘greeting’ did make me feel pretty special. But when it comes to the sleigh ride, I want everyone to get a fair turn.”
“They will. I promise. But for this first ride, I want to go out with someone who won’t be looking for every flaw in the experience. Someone who will be nice about my first attempts at maneuvering a decrepit old Santamobile. Someone like you.”
Karina swallowed hard. “Someone like…me?”
Was she really going to make him lay it out for her? Reid nodded. “Someone nice and noncritical. Okay? How about it?”
She bit her lip, then blinked. “Okay. Time’s wasting! Let’s get on that sleigh ride!” With every appearance of enthusiasm, she straightened her spine and marched to the sleigh.
Reid didn’t know how she made that simple maneuver look so delectable. But she did. Just watching her walk made him feel hot. So far, he sucked at platonic friendship. But he was going to do better. Just as soon as Karina removed her derrière from view, so he wouldn’t feel so irresistibly drawn to look at her.
There. Karina took her place on the sleigh’s front
bench, right beside Nate. Reid felt about a million times better—until he caught another glimpse of Karina’s face and realized something even more alarming: He was looking forward to showing her the sights on the B&B’s holiday sleigh ride route even more than he was looking forward to admiring her backside.
If that wasn’t scary, he didn’t know what was.
Given the choice between getting frisky with Karina and continuing to have these unaccountably…gooey feelings toward his new platonic friend, Reid knew what he would choose. It wasn’t exactly the stuff of high-minded poetry and literature, either. It was down and dirty. It was raw. It was primal and naked and necessary. It was (kind of) against the rules of Reid’s new foolproof plan to responsibly run the B&B, too.
Seated in the driver’s seat, Nate cleared his throat. He hefted the harness traces, then gave Reid a pointed look. “Shall we get going, boss? Or are you staying here?”
And miss a chance to experience Karina’s first sleigh ride? Screw that. Ignoring all the warning bells in his head, Reid strode to the sleigh. He got in. “I’m going. Ho ho ho!”
Chapter Twelve
Date: December 19th
Edgware Project Name: The Christmas House
Guest/Staff Interface Opportunity: horse-drawn sleigh ride
SNOWBANK MAKE-OUT SESSION…WHOOPS!
Interaction Goal: quantify guest enjoyment and evaluate viability of franchising services DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN!
Snuggled on the sleigh’s bench seat with the crisp wintery air in her face, the horses’ jingle bells jangling, and the sleigh whooshing past some of the most scenic forest she’d ever experienced, Karina sighed. She loved this. The sleigh ride was idyllic, her children were behaving impeccably (and seemed to have become fast friends with Reid’s daughters too), and she felt more hopeful about her first postdivorce Christmas than she probably had a right to.
If this was the kind of experience she could share with Olivia, Michael, and Josh, she was doing okay.
The only problem was Reid. He’d insisted on sitting right next to her, and he was downright impossible to ignore. He looked good. He smelled good. Even worse, he was being nice.
Ever since finding out he was the B&B’s manager, she’d been trying so hard to behave coolly toward him. Why wouldn’t he get the message? Instead of following her lead and silently enjoying the scenery, Reid talked to her, pointed out all his favorite landmarks…and made her feel closer to him than ever before. Instead of accepting her extra layers of clothing as a reason to feel less attracted to her, he smiled and tossed her admiring looks. Instead of growing conveniently uglier and less appealing the longer she knew him, he appeared distractingly dishier and even more irresistible.
Why, oh why, did Reid have to be so charming?
Desperate for diversion, Karina dug in her coat pocket. She withdrew the high-tech camera Stephanie had lent her, then started snapping pictures. The beautiful horses. The bucolic scenery. The white-barked birch trees standing in the snow. The hills. The snow-flocked evergreens. The volunteer help, Nate Kelly, ably maneuvering the sleigh over hill and dale as the metal runners made a sprightly whoosh-whoosh sound on the snow.
Idly, Karina wondered if Nate was licensed for this job. If he wasn’t, that would be a black mark against the B&B too.
“So, are you sure Mr. Kelly is up for this work?” she asked Reid, striving for a sense of non-secret-assessment-evaluator airiness. She nodded toward Nate. “Driving the sleigh, I mean. You must need a special license for that, right?”
Typically, Reid appeared unbothered. “Probably.”
“But does he have one?” Karina pressed.
A shrug. “According to Vanessa, he’s been helping out at The Christmas House for years. He seems pretty good at it.”
Watching Nate drive the sleigh, Karina had to agree.
“Seriously. You can relax,” Reid advised her. “I wouldn’t bring anyone out here if I didn’t think it was safe.”
He thought she was being her usual overcautious self, Karina realized. Well, that was better than having him think she was an undercover Edgware evaluator. Wishing she could just tell Reid the truth—without compromising her mission and Stephanie’s job—Karina decided to quit interrogating him for now.
Instead, she took a few more digital snaps of the children. Miraculously, all five of them were experiencing the sleigh ride with no iPod headphones or handheld PSPs in sight. Clearly, the Christmas House had worked some sort of holiday magic on them. Their faces looked bright and pink-cheeked in the afternoon sunshine.
“You don’t have to take your own pictures, you know.” Reid pointed to her borrowed camera. “That’s one of the services we provide here. Our staff takes expert video and still photos of our guests—strictly with their consent—so everyone can enjoy their vacation without experiencing the whole thing through a camera lens.” He indicated the trio of miniature, state-of-the-art, remotely operated digital cameras mounted to the sleigh. “It’s part of The Christmas House’s all-inclusive package.”
“I know. Sort of like a supersize version of the postride pictures they offer you at Disneyland, right?” Karina laughed, hoping she sounded carefree—and not like a corporate superspy sent to find fault with Reid’s family business. Even if she (technically) was. “But I like taking my own photos.” For my secret Edgware report. “For my…scrapbook. As keepsakes.”
“Right. I should have known you’d be the sentimental type.”
“Guilty.” Cheerfully, Karina nudged him. “You’re not?”
Reid looked away. “Never had a reason to be.”
“Surely your daughters gave you a reason?”
He gazed back at them, crowded in the rear bench seats, with a world of love plain in his face. “They gave me a reason to live. A reason to become a better man. But a reason to get all schmaltzy?” He pulled a goofy face. “Nope. Not yet.”
Somehow, Reid’s denial made Karina feel sorry for him. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like not to treasure every moment and milestone of her children’s lives—not to feel moved by each one. “Huh. I practically live through my children.”
He transferred his gaze to her. “That’s a mistake.”
“It can’t be.” The very idea flew in opposition to everything Karina stood for. Being there. Helping. Giving her all, especially to her children. “I know it might seem that way to someone like you. You travel around the world with your kids—your life is one big nonstop party. But my life is a lot more grounded than that.”
Reid’s gaze narrowed. “It’s my job, not a party. And traveling around the world is a good thing. It’s broadening.”
“I guess you’re probably right. For you, at least.” Karina shrugged. “All I know is…even if I could travel the world, I wouldn’t. Not at my kids’ expense. I mean, there’s school, and friends, and—”
“Are you suggesting I’m hurting my daughters somehow?”
The intensity in his eyes spooked her. So did the way he interrupted her—an unusual occurrence for Reid. Maybe this wasn’t the first time he’d heard this particular criticism.
“No! Not at all!” Karina assured him. “Everyone can see you’re a wonderful father.” She’d certainly noticed how protective, gentle, and affectionate Reid was with his daughters. But that didn’t mean she was blind to the truth. “It’s just that…Well, not everyone wants to put themselves first, the way you do. Not everyone can do that. You’re fortunate Nicole and Alexis are up for the adventure.”
“They love the adventure.” He appeared convinced of it. Unerringly, thoroughly convinced. “They’re proud of traveling all over the world. I’m proud of them for doing it.”
“And I’m proud of all the work I put into being a mom. Maybe motherhood won’t always be front and center for me, but right now it is. That’s not a ‘mistake,’ for me or anyone else.”
Reid mulled that over. “You can love your children—and you can be a good parent—without sacrificing everything fo
r them.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re a man! Men have it easy.”
“We do?”
She nodded. “Think about it: When you take over child care duties, even for a couple of hours, you’re ‘helping’ or ‘doing a favor’ for their mother. The whole world pats you on the back for something that should have been your responsibility in the first place.”
Reid’s gaze remained fixed, compassionately, on hers. “And when a man takes over for more than a few hours? For all day, every day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year? What then?”
“Uh…” He had a point. Darn it. “Well, I guess then you’re a hero. Like you.”
But Reid only shook his head, even as the snowcapped scenery continued to fly by and the jingle bells went on ringing. “I’m no hero. I’m just a guy who’s trying to do the best he can, day by day. Just like you’re a woman who’s trying to do the best she can, morning and night. Neither of us has to be perfect to be good parents. We just have to be there, mixing it up and taking a few punches whenever necessary.”
Karina grinned at that. “Interesting view. Parenthood as full-contact sport?”
“Sometimes it feels that way.” As though reminded of some other full-contact “sport,” Reid glanced at her latest multiply layered ensemble. She’d swear he had X-ray vision. Sexy X-ray vision. “I call ’em like I see ’em.”
Unwisely thrilled by his suddenly suggestive attention, Karina squirmed on her seat. “And what do you see right now?”
A woman I want more of, she expected to hear, anticipating their usual flirty banter (and grudgingly preparing herself to resist it). Or, a woman who’s driving me crazy with her three-pairs-of-thermal-undies-augmented, extra-luscious booty.
Instead, what emerged from Reid was…
“I see that your seat belt isn’t fastened.” His gaze zoomed to her lap. He frowned. “The sleigh doesn’t have airbags for safety—at least not yet—but it is supposed to have seat belts.”
He craned in his seat to make sure the children were all securely buckled up. They were. He returned his attention to Karina. She twisted on her seat, looking for her seat belt.