by Maggie Marr
“You look about half frozen to death.” Carol pulled her inside. To the left of the front door, a fire crackled in the hearth and a two-story evergreen took up a big part of the formal living room.
“Thank you for this.” Carol lifted the box from Brinn’s hand. “You really saved me. Between the wrapping and the church social, I just couldn’t get a dessert baked for tonight. Now you stand right here, I’ve got something for your mama.”
“Mrs. Emerson, please, it’s no problem—” But before Brinn could get the words from her mouth, Carol had already scurried down the hall toward the back of the house.
Brinn stood in the foyer and took in the Christmas scene. Dozens of Christmas presents wrapped in red and green foil with big beautiful golden bows were already under the Emerson tree. The stockings were hung above the fireplace. There were four Emerson brothers: Chuck, Tyler, Breck, and Kent.
The second to oldest, Tyler, had been the same year as Brinn all the way through school. She’d harbored a crush on Tyler Emerson from second grade through the awkwardness of middle school and all four years of high school. Brinn wasn’t Tyler’s type. He was blond-haired and athletic. A track and football star, he’d been quickly taken by a cheerleader, Charlize Dutton, whom he’d eventually married. They’d moved to Denver so that Tyler could work as an architect and Charlize could work at being Tyler’s wife.
Tyler Emerson.
A long stream of air came from between Brinn’s lips. Golden hair, bright blue eyes, strong chin, and delicious muscles. Brinn unsnapped the top two buttons of her coat. Was it hot in here? Just the thought of him made her heart pitter-patter faster in her chest.
A tiny bell jingled on the stairs. Brinn looked up. A little girl with white-blond curls and wearing a red velvet dress stood on the fourth stair with a tiny jingle bell in her hand.
“Angel gets its wings!” She shook the bell again. A brilliant smile broke across her face and Brinn returned her happy look.
“That’s right. From Thanksgiving to Christmas every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.”
“There you are!” A gruff but happy voice called from the top of the stairs. Brinn’s heart fluttered in her chest. Something about that voice…
Her gaze traveled up the staircase and landed on Tyler Emerson’s Rocky Mountain sky-blue eyes.
Air whooshed from her lungs. He wore a long-sleeved dark green Henley T-shirt that clung to the muscles of his arms and chest, and his face was decorated with that horribly gorgeous smile. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. She forced air in and out of her lungs. Tyler walked down the stairs toward the two of them. Brinn’s heart quickened with each step. He lifted the girl into his arms and his gaze landed on Brinn.
A heat flushed up her neck and her cheeks felt as though a fire had lit in each one.
“Hi, Brinn.” He held the beautiful child in his arms, both too stunningly good-looking for Brinn to form words.
Words. A deep breath. Make words. “Tyler.” Her voice was raspy and breathy and barely above a whisper. She fought her inclination to look away from him and stare at her toes. Tyler Emerson was as gorgeous as she remembered. Her fingers pulled at her wild curls and she wished she’d kept her hat on her head and that she didn’t smell like baked goods and icing.
“Brinn.” Tyler nodded to the cherub in his arms. “This is Charlotte.”
“Your hair is pretty.” Charlotte reached out for Brinn’s wild curls.
“Charlotte, this is Brinn,” Tyler continued. His eyes glanced over Brinn, and she trembled as though he’d caressed her.
“Hi, Charlotte.”
Charlotte shook the jingle bell she held in her hand, “Angel, angel!”
“Gets her wings.” Brinn finished Charlotte’s sentence.
“How’ve you been?” Tyler’s voice was deeper than what she remembered, but then again the last time she’d seen Tyler Emerson, he’d been little more than a boy and she little more than a girl.
“Good.” Brinn clasped her palms together. Get a grip, you’re not fourteen anymore. Tyler Emerson with his all-American good looks and sandpaper rough voice caused her to feel as awkward as she had when she’d been an adolescent. His effect on her hadn’t changed. All through school when Tyler looked at her, when Tyler spoke to her, she could barely meet his gaze or utter a word. Just the stunning beauty of that face, the intensity of that gaze. Brinn nearly melted into a puddle with Tyler’s attention directed at her.
He smiled. “I heard you moved back.”
Charlotte shifted in his arms. “Down, Daddy, please.”
Tyler bent over and settled Charlotte’s feet onto the floor. She took off toward the back of the house where her grandmother had disappeared. Tyler’s gaze again caught Brinn’s face. Damn those brilliant blue eyes.
“Last March. I’m taking over the bakery. Eventually. I mean, if I can ever get Ma to stop coming in. Which isn’t likely. She still runs the place, and well…” Babbling. She was babbling. Control over her mouth, her words, was gone. She clamped her lips together, then curved them into a smile.
“How long are you home for?” Brinn asked, trying to act like a normal human being who understood the fundamentals of communication.
His eyes darted from Brinn toward the fireplace and the Christmas tree. “Not sure yet.” Tyler stuffed both his hands in his pockets and looked back toward Brinn. “There’s a project the firm wants to bid on up here. So they sent me. Hometown boy, thought I might have a good shot with the client. I’m working in Powder Springs, at least until the first of the year.”
“That’s great!” Her voice was too loud and her enthusiasm surprised even her, although Tyler again simply maintained his smile. “I mean, your mom must be thrilled. A nice long holiday with you and Charlotte.”
“Yeah, a nice long holiday.” His words seemed to drift away into unspoken thoughts. “I wanted to make it a big family Christmas since Charlotte’s mother didn’t want to”—Tyler caught himself and halted his words—“since Charlize couldn’t make it back from New York. I wanted to make sure Charlotte had time with her cousins and grandparents.”
Brinn nodded. She glanced toward the back of the house. How could any woman ever leave such a perfect-looking child? And what could possibly keep Charlize in New York and away from her daughter on Christmas?
“Brinn!” Carol called from the end of the hall.
Brinn hadn’t realized how close she’d been standing to Tyler, hadn’t felt the heat that now warmed her body. He took a step back at the entrance of his mother.
“This is for Barbara, in case she can’t make it to the tea. I know how busy the bakery is this time of year.” Carol handed Brinn a little rectangular package wrapped in gold foil.
“Thank you, Mrs. Emerson.”
“You’ll be at the Grande tomorrow?”
Brinn nodded. “For the next week.”
“Chef Hans is very excited about your design. I thought I might bring Charlotte over to watch you build the Christmas castle.”
“I’d love that.” Brinn glanced down at the darling girl who now stood between her grandmother and her dad, her arm snaked around her grandmother’s leg. Brinn smiled and then looked back at Tyler. His warm smile had slipped from his face and a somber look that seemed so ill-fitted to his features now held his face. A gloomy expression didn’t fit Tyler. He was a man who looked like he was meant to smile. Brinn grinned at Tyler and the corner of his mouth quirked upward. Charlotte reached up her tiny hand and clasped her father’s.
“I want to see the Christmas castle!”
Tyler bent down and brushed his face into his daughter’s blond curls and scooped her up into his arms. “Brinn is building a Christmas castle. Should we go and watch?”
“Daddy, I want to see the princess.”
“You’re my princess.” Tyler landed a giant kiss on his daughter’s round cheek. With his daughter close to him, his effortless smile reclaimed his face. Tyler glanced at Brinn and again heat climbed across her face.
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“Well, I should go. Enjoy the chocolate torte, and thank you for the present for Ma.” Her eyes lingered on Tyler for the briefest of moments before he opened the front door.
“We’ll see you soon.”
Heat shot through her body. Please, goodness, let Tyler’s words be true.
Chapter Two
The pink comb left trails through Charlotte’s wet hair. Tyler’s heart swelled. He loved these moments with his Charlotte. Fresh from the bath, she smelled like sunshine even in the heart of winter. While he combed her hair, Charlotte made silly faces in the mirror. She wiggled her eyebrows and opened her mouth wide. She tilted her head from side to side. She was a complete and utter ham.
“Daddy, the woman with the curly hair?”
“Brinn,” Tyler said, then corrected himself. “Miss Bartoli.”
“She knows about the angels and their wings.”
Tyler’s brows creased. At first he couldn’t gather the reference, which happened a lot when he tried to follow Charlotte’s thoughts. At five she still hopped between reality and the world of her imagination at a lightning pace.
“The movie Daddy, where the angel gets his wings.”
“Oh right.” Tyler pulled her hair into a ponytail and put a pink band around it. “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“Miss Bartoli knew I was giving out angel wings.”
Tyler smiled. His fingers slid through Charlotte’s hair and he took the three sections and braided them. When would he have ever thought he’d be braiding a five-year-old girl’s hair? Never. Not even two years ago would he have believed it.
He’d failed Charlotte.
All he’d wanted was to give her the security and the type of family that he’d been lucky to grow up surrounded by, but he’d failed. He’d failed in an all-out battle with Charlotte’s mother. He’d not realized the war that was being waged in Charlize’s heart until the battle was lost, won by another man. Charlize had retreated to New York, and Tyler had nothing left to do but surrender, heal his wounded heart, and tend to his daughter.
“Daddy, look at my princess!” Charlotte picked up the doll her grandmother had given her the day she and Tyler arrived from Denver. The doll wore a pink dress with gold threads and had long blond hair that waved as Charlotte turned the doll forward and back. “I’m going to take her to see the castle tomorrow. The one that the pretty lady, Miss Bartoli, is making.”
Brinn Bartoli was a pretty lady. Not in the conventional sense like Charlotte’s mother. No, Brinn was pretty because of the warmth that emanated from her. The sense of sincerity and integrity that even as a kid Tyler hadn’t understood but had known existed.
He’d been in awe of Brinn with her self-contained behavior so constantly pleasant and willing to always be the support behind every event. He’d never considered dating her when they both lived in Powder Springs. Not because he didn’t notice her, but because he knew, even then, that to be with a woman like Brinn would require him to delve into parts of himself he didn’t want to see or find. Brinn deserved someone deeper than him. A guy with more soul. Now after a failed marriage, she deserved someone less damaged. A guy who wasn’t cynical or jaded about love. A man who would actually consider marriage again. Tyler would never be that man. He put a hair band at the bottom of Charlotte’s braid.
“Come on, bean, time for bed.” Tyler lifted his daughter. Her tiny hands clasped around his neck and she tucked her head under his chin. Warmth surged through him. Did he deserve her precious love? He was certainly doing everything he could to try to deserve this beautiful gift of a daughter God had given him.
He walked down the long hallway of the old Victorian to the bedroom his parents had turned into a special spot for all their granddaughters when they came to visit. In this bedroom were two sets of white bunk beds with pink floral duvets and lace trim and giant plumped pillows. Enough beds for all three granddaughters and room to grow.
Giant pictures of flowers and fairies decorated the walls as well as photos of each Emerson granddaughter. The three girls’ names were painted in white script on the pink walls in the order that they’d arrived: Ashley, Grace, and Charlotte. There were more Emerson grandchildren to come. Tyler had heard from his older brother Chuck that he and his wife were expecting their third child in the summer. There was much to celebrate in the Emerson clan, and yet Tyler felt alone and a failure for letting his marriage die.
He pulled back the fluffy duvet on the bottom bunk, knelt down, and Charlotte climbed into bed. Tyler tucked the blankets around his daughter.
“I love you, Daddy.” Charlotte leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“And I love you too, bug.” A lump grew in his throat and a heat built behind his eyes. What he wouldn’t give for Charlotte to have a complete family with two parents tucking her into bed. What he wouldn’t give to have his own news to share at Christmas dinner that Charlotte would soon have a little brother or sister.
Charlize hadn’t wanted to be a mother or to grow their family. She wanted New York. She wanted the man she’d fallen in love with and left Tyler and Charlotte for. She wanted an existence that didn’t include Denver or Powder Springs or Tyler or Charlotte.
“I miss Mommy.” Charlotte’s big round blue eyes held bits of pain. Tyler clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t cry in front of Charlotte. He wouldn’t ever tell Charlotte all the nasty things Charlize had said about being a mother in her final parting shots aimed at Tyler.
“And I’m sure Mommy misses you too.” His words, he felt certain, were a lie. In the year and a half that Charlize had been gone and rebuilt her life in New York, she’d seen Charlotte twice. Right after she moved to New York, Charlize had called nearly every night, but that had faded to once a week, and now, eighteen months later, Charlotte was lucky to hear from her mother twice a month.
“I’m going to ask Santa to bring Mommy to us for Christmas.”
Tyler’s throat tightened. He held fast to the expression on his face. What to say? He no longer loved his ex-wife. She wasn’t the woman he’d thought she was, but his heart ached for his daughter. She wanted her mama, and though Tyler was content to be without Charlize, Charlotte was not. If only his ex-wife could be a better mother to their daughter. This would be the first Christmas that Charlotte was without her mother. The first Christmas, Charlize had flown to Denver for twenty-four hours, but this year spending Christmas with Charlotte conflicted with Charlize’s already-scheduled trip to Tahiti.
“Bug, I don’t know if Santa can fit Mommy on his sleigh. We’ll see her after Christmas, when we go to New York for a couple of days.”
Charlotte’s little eyebrows creased and her eyes peered at her father with a great seriousness. “Daddy, I think you forgot that Santa is magic. He can shrink Mommy, put her in his bag, and bring her down the chimney.”
There were no words to respond to his daughter’s Christmas wish. A longing claimed his heart for what his and Charlize’s union should have been; stability, security, and family. After Charlize’s departure, the realization had sunk in that his ex-wife would never be his true love again and perhaps never was.
“Get some sleep, bug. Big day tomorrow with Grandma. You’re going to the Grande to see the castle.”
Charlotte’s wide smile lit her face even as her eyelids started to droop with the heaviness of sleep. “And I’ll take my princess,” she whispered, her eyelids slipping down over her beautiful blue eyes.
“Yes, bug. A princess with a princess.” He stayed in that spot, sitting on the floor beside Charlotte’s bunk bed until her eyes were closed and her breathing grew long and slow. Her angel’s face relaxed into the softness of sleep. When he knew she was safely in dreamland for the night, he stood, walked out of the bedroom, and quietly pulled the door shut behind him. His mother waited in the hallway. She looked up at him. She knew of Charlotte’s Christmas wish.
“I’m sorry.” Mom put her arm around his waist.
“She wanted a different life.”
“I just…” His mother shook her head. “I just can’t understand it.”
“I’ve moved on. Charlotte is the center of my life.”
They walked down the hallway toward the stairs. His mother stopped. “Have you moved on?”
A fair question. One that his mom asked out of concern and not judgment. In the eighteen months since Charlize’s departure, he’d tried to move on from the ruins of his marriage. He’d laid the groundwork for a life with just him and Charlotte. He’d cut back his hours at the firm. He’d hired a great nanny to be with Charlotte when he had to be at the office. He’d filled Charlotte’s life with playdates and preschool and vacations and fun events for the two of them to share. But as for him and his own life as a single man?
“What about that woman you took to dinner a couple of weeks ago?”
“Not a match.” He shoved his hands deep into his back pockets. The woman was nice, good-looking, and successful in her business as a public relations executive, but there had been no spark. Now he had another woman-friend that he had no interest in dating.
“We’re okay, Mom. We’re doing the best we can.”
“You’re doing a great job.” Mom squeezed his arm, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Sadness was reflected in her gaze. “I’m so proud of the man you are, the father you are. I just want…” She looked away, then her gaze met his again. “I just want what I know you want for yourself. A family, like your father and I have.”
“I have a family. I have as much family as I’m ever going to need. I have you and Dad and Charlotte, plus Chuck and Katherine and Breck and Kent. The girls. I have more family than a lot of people.”
“I want you to find someone special to be with, to share holidays and birthdays and vacations.”
Tyler shook his head. “I don’t think marriage”—he looked into his mom’s hopeful eyes—“I don’t think marriage is in my future.”
Mom’s eyes clouded. “You can’t let Charlize’s mistake prevent you from finding love.”