by Caro Carson
India laughed—and remembered laughing as Aiden had lifted her right off the ground, remembered the happiness as he’d carried her into her house.
That kind of happiness was different than this, of course. That had been adult. Sexual anticipation. There was no comparison.
But she’d felt...
She looked at the bright eyes and smiles of two little girls who were enchanted with lip gloss. She looked at herself in the mirror and remembered how she’d looked just before a night with Aiden: like she’d been anticipating ice cream and ponies and cotton candy.
Aiden was her lip gloss.
India cleared her throat and crouched down to little-girl level. “Okay, it only takes the tiniest bit. You’re so pretty already, the gloss is just for fun.” She held the gloss up and squeezed until a little bit appeared at the slanted tip of the tube.
“Ohhh,” the girls said in unison.
India almost laughed, but she didn’t want them to think she was mocking them. She used the tip of her pinky finger to transfer the dab of gloss to Olympia’s lower lip. Her mouth was so tiny, her lip so impossibly soft.
“Go like this.” India demonstrated how to smack her lips together to spread the gloss.
Poppy bounced on her toes. “Me, me, me!”
They were all three smacking their lips when Aiden appeared at the door, a masculine presence in the corner of India’s eye as she remained crouched down with her little lip-gloss fan club.
“There you are, girls. Don’t bother—”
His sudden silence made India look up. He looked shocked. He looked at her like he’d never seen her before. What had she done that was so terrible?
But he recovered quickly enough. “Girls, you don’t bother your guests while they’re in the bathroom. People want privacy in bathrooms, remember?”
“But she said come in.”
“Because you didn’t stop knocking, did you?”
Two little lip-glossed mouths pouted.
“Did you?” Aiden repeated sternly.
India did not have a good enough poker face for this parenting stuff. It was kind of hysterical. She did her best to look at the girls with one eyebrow raised, asking silently if they were going to tell the truth.
“Poppy knocked,” Olympia said.
“Olympia knocked,” Poppy said at the same time.
Aiden sighed. “No more knocking, either one of you. Dinner’s ready.”
“Carry me. Carry both of me’s.”
“Both of us.” Aiden knelt, scooped up a child in each arm, then stood.
Oozing testosterone, India had thought when she’d first laid eyes on him. His masculinity was even more obvious now, his size and strength such a sharp contrast to his daughters’ delicacy. He used that testosterone to make two girls feel safe and loved.
Her father had used his to make it with two girls at once. India hadn’t known what sex was at the time, but she’d known that her father was leaving her alone in the house again and walking out the door with each of his hands on a woman’s butt, and she’d known you weren’t supposed to touch people’s butts. Aiden would never act like that around his daughters.
She followed him through the house, crossing the family room. Aiden was behaving like a gentle giant; her gaze fell on items that told another story. As an army officer herself, she recognized them all. The long, rectangular shadow box holding a slim, silver sword that was a cadet saber from West Point. The framed certificate that featured a black arch with the bright yellow Ranger designation was a letter for—she wandered a little closer as Aiden set the girls in booster seats while Debra put a bowl of green beans on the table—a commendation for placing third in the Best Ranger Competition.
The Ranger competition? The annual army-wide, military-wide event was infamous. Two-person teams faced round-the-clock testing of military skills for three days. It was brutal. It was voluntary. He’d excelled at it.
The man who was pouring milk into sippy cups had another side, all right, another use for all that testosterone: he was a warrior. She watched the way he smiled with his daughters, the way he laughed at their little jokes, and tried to imagine him channeling the ferocity and furor needed to conquer—Ah.
She flushed, because she could easily imagine it. She’d tasted it herself, as his lover, the change that came over him when playfulness and teasing turned serious, when stark need drove everything else away. That one, raw second of conquest before climax—
“India should sit here. This is the girls’ side.”
India sat with a father and his children and family, and she tried not to think about sex.
His arm was practically at her eye level when he lifted the lid from the casserole dish. She watched the play of biceps and triceps as he reached across the table to put a scoop of macaroni on Poppy’s plate.
When India went back to Belgium, would Aiden miss the sex as much as she would?
Yes. He’d told her so. He enjoyed having sex with her, but he hadn’t told her about this, about the most essential, most elemental part of his life. She’d blundered into it.
If she hadn’t convinced herself that their great sex resulted from love, she would not have turned around the pickup in San Antonio. In a week, she would have ended up back in Belgium without ever having met Poppy and Olympia. Her lover’s daughters. His heart. His soul.
She had known nothing about them.
Because he’d wanted it that way.
She was on the outside, looking in, and the pang of longing was too much like pain.
* * *
His children made damn good wingmen.
India was on edge, ready to bolt for the front door at any moment, but over macaroni and cheese, his children locked up his plans for the night with India.
Olympia started it. “Hey, um, hey you. Where is your house?”
“Her name is Miss Woods,” Debra said.
“It’s Major Woods,” Aiden said. “Don’t shrug, Debra. It matters. This is a military town. Olympia, who is Janice’s mom?”
“Captain Smith.”
“I know Captain Smith,” Poppy said, never one to let someone get credit for something she could do, too.
“I rest my case. It’s not any harder to address someone by rank than by saying mister or misses.”
Debra made a face at him, then turned her attention back to India. “So, Miss Major Woods, where is your house? It’s next door?”
“Not Miss Major,” Aiden said, “just Major. Don’t be such a civilian.”
“Miss Major,” said Poppy.
Aiden nearly growled in frustration before he heard India’s soft chuckle. It was the first sound of anything remotely resembling happiness that he’d heard from her since he’d opened the front door and she’d said Surprise.
Well done, Poppy.
“I live in Belgium,” India said.
“Oh,” Debra said, with such blatant disappointment it would have been laughable, had Aiden not shared the disappointment.
“Belgium is far away,” he explained to the girls. “Across the ocean. You have to take an airplane to get there.”
“But where is your next-door house?” Olympia asked, bringing the subject back around like a little champ.
“It’s my friend’s house,” India said. “Fabio’s house.”
“Fabio has to sleep here for Christmas,” Olympia said. “His house smells bad.”
“Polyurethane,” India told his sister. “The house has to be vented for twenty-four hours.”
“Do you have to sleep here for Christmas?” Poppy asked.
“I don’t have to. I didn’t realize...when I got here...”
Aiden knew the rest of that sentence: I didn’t realize you existed. It was a miracle she hadn’t thrown the flowers in his face and driven away.
India was b
lushing, which made him feel like hell. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She shouldn’t be embarrassed—but it wasn’t stopping her from trying to decline his invitation to spend Christmas with his family, now that she knew just what his family involved. It also didn’t stop him from feeling a compelling need to prevent her from running, not when they hadn’t had a minute’s privacy to talk yet.
She was shaking her head. “I didn’t realize that there was going to be a big Christmas here. You’re going to be so busy. I want you guys to enjoy it with your father, not with—”
“You can sleep in my bed,” Poppy said. “It’s for big girls.”
Damn, his girls had mad skills.
“That’s so sweet of you,” India said. “But where would you sleep? You need to sleep in your bed.”
Olympia waved her fork in an adult’s dismissive gesture. She was apparently done with the topic. “Daddy has a big bed. You can sleep with him.”
Olympia, my sweet, I love you.
But since India was now blushing pretty hard and his sister and brother-in-law were about to choke to death from suppressing their laughter, Aiden put an end to the discussion.
“The adults will figure out the sleeping arrangements. Right now, we’ve got a tree to decorate.”
* * *
India stared at the artificial tree and panicked.
She couldn’t do this. The tree was lit up, but the bare branches were waiting for ornaments to be taken out of the boxes that were waiting neatly to one side. Aiden had set it up while she’d been driving to San Antonio and back. While she’d been convincing herself that a week of great sex meant she was in love, Aiden had been arranging a Christmas for the people he truly loved.
Not that she resented his love for his daughters, of course. The girls were so precious. Infinitely precious. India couldn’t take their father’s time away from them tonight, not one minute. Poppy was still literally clinging to him, and India had heard Debra and Aiden discussing how their week apart had been harder on Poppy than Olympia. The girls needed their father’s attention tonight. And tomorrow, too—it was Christmas. What was India doing, stealing their father’s attention on Christmas, when they were clinging to him after a week apart?
Still, when Debra announced it was time for her to leave, the girls shifted their clinginess to her, the aunt who’d been the main adult in their lives all week. It was an emotional farewell. Had India ever clung to her mother like that? Her father?
Debra kissed her brother, wiping away her own tears and laughing at them. “Oh, my goodness. How about that? But we’ll be home in a couple of hours, and that will feel good, right? There’s no place like home.”
Had India been staring? She must have been, because Debra explained to her, as if it were her business, “We live in San Antonio, so it’s not like we aren’t going to see the girls again for a year.”
We’d only see each other a few days each year. Everything Aiden had said to her on their deck chair had more significance to her now. When people really loved each other, a few days weren’t enough, not even enough for an aunt to see her nieces or a brother to see his sister.
But India hadn’t known that. She saw her mother a few days every two or three years. It was enough.
She didn’t know how real families, how close families, acted. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t deal with this.
“San Antonio?” she asked Debra. “That’s where I’m supposed to be. I have a room reserved at a bed-and-breakfast place. I could follow you—”
“No.” Aiden stepped right between her and his sister. With his hand on her waist, he spoke into her ear. “Don’t even think about it.”
It was the first time he’d touched her since he’d held open the door of Tom’s pickup truck for her this morning—a lifetime ago. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d been missing his touch, craving that touch, not until she felt it again.
Aiden smoothly turned to face his sister and brother-in-law, keeping his arm around India’s waist, and all that banked strength, all that ambient warmth, reminded her of why she’d turned around that truck and come back. Sex might be a pretty basic motivation, but it was a strong one.
As his sister and brother-in-law listened, Aiden explained that no to India in a perfectly civilized way. “You can’t go now. The girls will be devastated if they don’t see you in your pajamas tomorrow morning. Once they’ve got an idea in their heads, that’s that.”
“That’s the truth,” Debra said.
“Since they’ve decided you are going to see all of their presents on Christmas morning, I’m afraid that means you are going to see each and every part of each and every toy. I’ll make lots of coffee.”
Everyone chuckled. India spending the night was so wholesome, even cute, the way Aiden handled it. Once they all said their goodbyes and thank-yous and it was nice meeting yous, India was alone with Aiden. Finally.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“Don’t you think we needed to talk a week ago?”
A direct hit; he didn’t try to defend himself. He even nodded slightly. “I’m sure it doesn’t—”
“Daddy.”
The wail of grief made India’s hair stand on end. Olympia was absolutely devastated.
“I want Aunt Debra.”
“I know, I know...shhh...” Aiden scooped up his daughter and continued to murmur soothing-sounding things into her ear.
“M-m-make her come back.”
Poppy came running in and plastered herself to his leg again.
India just stood dumbly, helpless to ease anyone’s pain, and watched Aiden take care of everything. He stood with Olympia clinging to his chest and Poppy hugging his legs, and he looked like he was just covered in little girls. Half of her heart thought it was unbearably sweet, half of her heart thought it was unbearably sad. Her heart just broke in two for them, for this absolutely loving, tight-knit family.
Olympia’s sobs subsided enough that India could hear what Aiden was saying. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. It really is.”
She knew those words. They’d soothed her, too.
She wiped her eyes, but unlike Debra, she couldn’t laugh when she saw the tears on her fingers.
Chapter Fourteen
The three Nords recovered much faster than India did.
She still felt so raw inside. She was silent as she took ornaments out of their storage boxes and hung them on the tree. Silent, but keeping a pleasant expression on her face, because there were children involved. Not just children, but Poppy and Olympia, with their unique personalities and their Christmas Eve excitement.
She couldn’t hurt them, not in any way, so she stayed far away from Aiden, and she smiled as she picked up another ornament. Our First Christmas Together. Porcelain wedding bells, with the year written in gold. Six years ago.
She thought she might be sick. It was too much loss. Aiden hadn’t been married very long. The twins were four. They must have been conceived after Aiden and his wife had been married for only a year or so. When had his wife died?
Even if she’d died yesterday, she would have had no more than six years with Aiden. She. His wife. The woman he’d pledged his life to. The woman who should be hanging this ornament right here, right now. The woman who would have known how to soothe her children when they missed their aunt.
Aiden’s wife should be here, but instead, India was the one who would watch her children open presents from Santa in the morning. What had India done to deserve this honor? She’d boinked the woman’s husband. That was all. India hadn’t even bought her daughters a present.
I didn’t know they existed.
But she did now. Her throat hurt from the tears clogging it. Her face hurt from trying to smile. Her hand trembled as it held the wedding bells of a dead woman.
I have no gift for her. I have no gift for t
hem.
“I have to go,” she said, shocked at the steadiness of her own voice, even as her hand shook.
Aiden was beside her in an instant. “Don’t go. Please. We haven’t had a chance to talk.”
She looked at him, a little confused. “I have to go to the store.”
“Now?”
“Yes. I have to go. I don’t have any presents for the girls.”
“It’s okay. They’re going to have so many gifts, they won’t notice.”
She glared at him then. “I have standards. I won’t show up at someone else’s Christmas without at least having a gift for their children.” She set down the ornament and walked with shocking calm to the foyer, where she took her coat off the rack.
She nearly knocked Olympia over when she turned around. “Oh! Sorry.”
Olympia looked up at her with those emerald-green eyes. Aiden’s wife must have had emerald-green eyes. Oh, God. This hurts.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so, okay?” The nearest twenty-four-hour grocery store was a good twenty minutes away. She touched Olympia’s hair, tentatively—it was black, like Aiden’s hair. At least that came from someone who didn’t haunt her. “You get that tree decorated. You’re doing a great job. I just need to run to the store.”
“Do you need a penny?” Olympia asked.
It was a cute question, but Aiden closed his eyes as if it was...not cute.
She kept one eye on Aiden as she answered. “No, I have enough money. Thank you, though.”
He didn’t open his eyes. “She means, do you need a penny because you are going to be apart from her? When we can’t be with each other, we give each other a penny.” He opened his eyes and they were bright with emotion. From his pocket, he took out two pennies. She remembered them from the garage. Two pennies: Poppy and Olympia. He never lost touch with his daughters. He’d had that piece of his real life with him all along, even during a shipboard romance.
But he’d kept it a secret from India.
He gave her one penny and put the other back in his pocket.
Somehow, she managed to smile at Olympia. “Thank you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”