by Heidi Rice
He started to laugh, despite the ache still clutching at his heart. And continued to laugh as she swore ripely and the sheet billowed and bobbed while she scrambled into her clothes.
“You know those cameras are wired for sound, right?” he teased.
“I’ll get you for this, Sinclair,” she hissed, before emerging at last, her soft brown hair in disarray, but her pajamas securely on—even if the buttons were all over the place.
“Hey, Grumpy, there you are.” He got off the bed and held out his hand to her.
She took it but sent him a furious scowl. “Get lost, Dopey.”
He saluted the security cameras as she climbed down. “Sorry guys, the show’s over.”
“Oh, shut up,” she muttered as she stomped off toward the stairwell.
He followed, the chuckles dying as he realized how much he was going to miss Katherine Braithwaite—especially the chance to tease her in the morning, when she was all cute and rumpled and out of sorts.
…
Kate had regained her temper by the time she’d changed back into her dress and boots and coat. The snow was still falling in fat flakes outside her office window, but she didn’t suspect there would be any problem getting home now from the small sounds of activity she could already hear in the store beyond.
Ryder stood with his butt propped against her desk and his arms crossed over his chest, the wicker basket full of the debris from their wild night at his feet.
She brushed her hair, swallowing down the lump that had been lodged in her throat.
So this was it. The end of their one-night affair. They’d agreed that was all it was. And as he hadn’t said anything to suggest otherwise, she didn’t plan to either.
Their lives couldn’t really have been any more incompatible. And however delicious it might have been to pretend they could begin a relationship, she had to be practical. The way she’d always been before—until last night.
“What are your plans for today?” she asked, keeping the tone as casual as possible.
He glanced up. “I’m catching the 8:00 a.m. train to Syracuse, if it’s still running.”
Of course, to see his daughter. The thought had emotion closing her throat. She would have loved to meet Gully. The little girl was probably as much of an original as her father.
She nodded. “I bet Gully can’t wait to see you.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” he said in a low voice. “Although she’s not going to be too impressed with the lack of a Christmas present.”
“Why don’t you get her one now, before you go?” she said, forcing a brightness and enthusiasm into her inquiry that she didn’t feel. “It’s only six-thirty. You have loads of time.”
He pushed off from the desk. “Nah, I don’t think I can face all those dolls again. I’ll give her an IOU. I’m taking her to Disneyland next week. I can get her something there.”
“Don’t be silly. You have to get her a Christmas present.” She shoved the brush into her bag, determined to keep the helpful smile fixed on her face. “I could help you find something. In fact…” Inspiration struck and she thanked God for her in-depth knowledge of the store’s merchandise—pathetically grateful that she could do this small thing for him and the child who meant so much to him. “I think I might know the perfect gift.”
Ten minutes later, they were standing in the computer department.
“Damn, this is…,” he paused, staring at the brightly colored packaging of the ComicArt Toolkit she’d handed him. “This is really great.”
“You see, it has a digital camera and the software has loads of different layouts, plus she can add dialogue and thought bubbles to the action,” she babbled, pointing out the different features like a shop assistant on acid. “You said she liked making her own comic strips. With the camera she could take pictures of her new puppy and make one about that. And given your expertise in that area, you could help her with the photos.”
“It’s perfect. She’ll love it. I love it.” He turned the box over to read the copy on the side, and her gaze caught on the long tanned fingers, the dusting of dark hair on the back of his hands. Large, capable, caring hands that had held her so securely all through the night.
The lump grew to boulder-sized, and she swallowed painfully. She needed to make a quick getaway now, before she made an idiot of herself.
“Right, I should dash,” she said, hoisting her purse onto her shoulder. But before she could shoot off, he grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb across the knuckles.
“I’ll walk you down,” he said, tucking the box under his arm.
They headed down together, bumping into the sales staff who had started to arrive to prep the store for the big sales opening that had been put back a day due to the inclement weather.
She managed to hold it together despite the feel of his rough palm against hers. Although she did have one major wobble, after she’d apologized to Charles for her earlier rudeness and they said their good-byes, and stepped into the snowbound alleyway together.
The drifts were several feet high, but before she could start to pick her way through them, he passed her the gift.
“Here, hold this,” he said, and scooped her up into his arms.
“For goodness’ sake, Ryder,” she protested, the feel of his arms around her almost more than she could bear. “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
But he just slanted her that sexy, lopsided grin. “Shut up, Katherine.”
So she shut up and, holding onto his neck, snuggled against him for the last time as he toted her down the alleyway to Fifth.
And while she was in his arms, she made her first ever Christmas wish. A silly, fanciful, foolish wish that she knew had no hope of coming true, but she made it anyway, in honor of her best Christmas ever.
He put her down gently when they reached the curb, took back the gift, and whistled for a cab.
A yellow taxi skidded to a halt in front of them far too soon. “You take it,” he said, his voice strained. “I’ll get the next one.”
“I don’t need one. I’m only going a few blocks. And you have your train to catch.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Right, well, I guess this is good-bye then.”
“Yes,” she said, wanting to think of a clever comeback, but completely unable to think of anything that wouldn’t put her at risk of bursting into tears.
And then he dragged his hands back out of his pockets, cradled her face in cold palms, and kissed her.
His lips felt chilly on hers but the heat still shot up her torso and all the memories came flooding back. She knew the tears weren’t far behind, so she covered his hands and drew them away from her face to break the kiss. “Go, Ryder, you don’t want to miss it.”
He stared at her for the longest time, brushed a finger down her cheek, then nodded and jumped into the cab. The taillights had flickered down the street and disappeared around the corner out of sight before she turned to trudge back up Fifth toward her empty apartment.
She managed to get all the way home before she burst into harsh, racking sobs, the sense of loss engulfing her.
Chapter Ten
Boxing Day was hard work, but by December 27, Kate had clawed back enough self-control to haul herself into Sinclair’s and go through the motions.
The day was the longest of her entire life, and she spent most of it wishing she and Ryder hadn’t covered pretty much every single department in the store on their nighttime raid, because it meant everywhere she turned there were memories of him. Not only that, but when she went to offer to pay Gerry Garcia for the pilfering they’d done, he informed her with a gentle smile that Mr. Ryder Sinclair had already covered it. So much for Ryder being a veteran of Santa’s Naughty List. The big faker.
But the worst moment of all came when Lachlan Sinclair, a man whom she’d only spoken to twice before, greeted her while passing through the upper floors with a coterie of his minions in tow and made some caustic remake about her gett
ing stuck overnight with his son.
Having been tongue-tied with awe the two other times she’d met her boss, this time she almost choked on the urge to tell him what a failure she thought he was as both a father and a human being. As it was, once the encounter was over, she realized she would have to look for another job. All the joy was sucked out of working for the heritage department store now, knowing what she did about the man who owned it.
When she got home that evening, her feet ached, her head ached, and her heart wasn’t a whole lot better. Then she opened the fridge door and saw the gourmet turkey dinner for one still sitting in her fridge, and tears welled.
“Oh for Pete’s sake, get over yourself,” she muttered to no one.
Ryder had his own life. He had a daughter and a challenging, demanding career, and all her abject loneliness proved was that it was about time she started making a life for herself, too.
She dashed the moisture away with an impatient hand, picked the dinner up, and slung it into the kitchen’s bin.
The ringing of the phone was a welcome distraction from contemplating the two eggs and one stick of rather wimpy-looking celery that were now her only dinner options. Not that she felt particularly hungry.
One step at a time, Kate.
She picked up the handset and ignored the twinge of heartache at the realization that she had no clue who it might be, because no one called her at home unless it was work-related. And the store had closed two hours ago.
“Hello, Kate Braithwaite.”
“Katherine, it’s Ryder.”
Oh no. The shock of hearing his voice had her hand trembling on the handset.
“Ryder, hello. How are you?” Why was he calling her? She couldn’t cope with having to part with him all over again.
“I’m all right, I guess,” he said. “Can you talk?”
No! Not without dissolving into a puddle.
“Yes, of course,” she heard herself say, and realized she must have masochistic tendencies she’d never been aware of before, because she couldn’t make herself hang up the phone with him on the other end of the line.
“Okay, great,” he replied. Then there was a long pause.
“Um, hello, Ryder? Are you still there?’”
“Yeah, I’m here, it’s just so good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you.”
Please kill me now.
“Me too,” she said, because it was the truth. “How did Gully like her present?” she offered when he went silent again.
“She loved it. She’s here with me now. We’re at my apartment in SoHo.”
“That’s wonderful,” she replied, her knees shaking at the thought that he was so close and yet so far out of reach.
“Yeah, well, it’s great to have her here, but it would have been a lot more wonderful if she hadn’t insisted on bringing the puppy,” he said, sounding a little annoyed. “The damn thing’s already eaten two of my shoes—and from two different pairs.”
Kate coughed out a laugh, imagining the frown on his face, and wiped away another errant tear.
“Hey, don’t you start,” he said. “Those shoes cost three hundred dollars a pair.” She then heard him swear under his breath and say from a distance—as if he were holding the phone away from his mouth—”Gull, for chrissake tell Tyler to stay off the couch, he’s covered in mud.”
A childish giggle was followed by a high-pitched musical voice saying: “Don’t be silly, Daddy. How can I tell him when he doesn’t speak the human language?”
There followed a fairly lengthy discussion on how humans communicate with dogs, which Gully definitely seemed to win, before Ryder came back on the line. “Jesus, I’m sorry. She’s gone to give Tyler a bath. I’ve probably got about ten minutes tops before my apartment is totaled, so you’ll just have to listen to what I’ve got to say without interrupting. Got it?”
“Yes, okay,” Kate agreed, so touched by the tiny insight into his relationship with his daughter that her throat was too thick to talk anyway.
He sighed. “Right, here goes. As you know, Gully and I are going to Disneyland in a couple of days. We make a trip there every year, just her and me, and well, yesterday she asked me if she could bring a friend.”
He sounded a little despondent. Kate’s heart went out to him, knowing how precious his time alone with his daughter was. “Ryder, that’s tough. But I suppose it’s all part of her growing up.”
Was this why he had called? To get her input? The thought made her feel both flattered and sad.
“I was sad for a bit, I’ll admit it,” he said. “Seems that Cool Dad’s awesomeness is fading in favor of her new friend, Maisey, from ballet class.”
“Oh, Ryder,” she said, not sure what else to say.
“But then, you know what? It made me realize a couple of important things. First, I don’t want to miss any more big chunks of her life. She’s growing up so fast, I can’t afford to be gone for months at a time. So I’ve packed in my job. I want to be based in New York now, not traveling all over the globe chasing stories. I’ve got a contact at the Herald, says they’re looking for a staff photographer. I know the editor there loves my stuff, so I shouldn’t be unemployed for long.”
“That’s terrific, Ryder. I’m so pleased for you.” And she was—it sounded like he was sorting out his life. “I think you’ve made the right decision.”
“That’s good; so do I. But there’s something else I discovered, and you’re a big part of it, Katherine.”
“I am?” she asked, the optimism building, despite her best efforts not to get ahead of herself.
“Yeah, here’s the thing.” He paused, and she could have sworn she heard him swallow. “I need to get a life, apart from Gully and my job. In the last few years, I’ve kind of drifted in and out of relationships, because she was always more important and I never met anyone I could be bothered to make the effort with. Until…” He paused again, and her hand gripped the handset so hard she thought it might crack apart. “Until I met you. I want to see more of you, Katherine. A lot more.”
The tears welled again, but this time she didn’t make any effort to wipe them away because she was too busy concentrating on not getting knocked on her backside by the wave of emotion barreling through her.
“In fact,” he continued, before she managed to form a coherent response, “I was wondering if you’d like to come over to the apartment tomorrow. We could go to Central Park for the afternoon, and then I’ll make the three of us some supper. I’ve spoken to Gully about you, and she’s cool with it. I want you to meet her, get to know her. She’s a terrific kid. And I swear, I’ll make her lock Tyler in the bathroom while you’re here.”
She pressed trembling fingers to her lips, the tears flooding down her cheeks now, and she had to gulp down a sob. He was willing to give her not just himself, but his child, too. She wasn’t quite sure she could cope with the joy of it all.
“Katherine, I know we said what we had was just for one night— Why are you crying?”
“Because I’m so happy,” she managed at last.
He chuckled, that deep lazy chuckle she was sure was the best sound she’d ever heard. “I knew promising to keep the puppy in the bathroom would swing it.”
She laughed then.
“So what’s your official answer?” he asked, but she could tell he already knew.
“My official answer is absolutely yes,” she said. “To seeing more of you and meeting Gully. And you really don’t have to worry about Tyler. I’d like to meet him, too,” she added, her heart swelling to impossible proportions. “I may be scared of the dark, but I’m remarkably brave when it comes to puppies.”
“Good to know,” he said, lowering his voice. “But I’m reserving judgment on the Shoe Terminator. You may not be scared of him, but my Gucci loafers sure as hell are.”
She giggled, the light, carefree sound mixing with the rough chuckle she had come to adore. “Why Ryder, I had no idea you were so precious about footwear.”
They made arrangements for the following day when she would get to spend time with him and his daughter—and Tyler the Shoe Terminator—and then said their good-byes. She was still grinning from ear to ear when she put the handset back on the receiver.
She took a deep breath in and felt the wave of happiness bowl her over at the thought of what the weeks, months, and hopefully years ahead might hold.
Collapsing onto the sofa, she gazed at her little blue spruce with its twinkle of snowflake lights and realized that the first Christmas wish she’d ever dared to make had just come true.
Acknowledgments
Special thanks go to Aimee Carson, Amy Andrews, and Kate Hardy for being so supportive and inspiring to work with while we devised the theme, brainstormed our individual stories together, and wrote them at breakneck speed. And also to the wonderful Liz Pelletier for being so enthusiastic about the idea from the get-go and encouraging us every step of the way. It’s been a ball.
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Heidi Rice is married with two teenage sons (which gives her rather too much of an insight into the male psyche). She also works as a film journalist and loves her job as an author because it involves sitting down at her computer each day and getting swept up in a world of high emotions, sensual excitement, funny feisty women, sexy tortured men and glamourous locations where laundry doesn’t exist… Not bad, eh.
Then she gets to turn off her computer and do chores (usually involving laundry!)
’Tis the Season to
be Kissed
Amy Andrews
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.