Miracle Under The Mistletoe (The Foster Brothers #1)

by Tracy Madison

  And, because she needed to talk about it, she launched into the story of what went down with Grady yesterday. She didn’t skip over anything. Bit by bit, she led Samantha through the day—from the moment Grady had picked her up until the second he brought her home, and every detail in between.

  “Holy crap, Olivia. You could’ve died.” Samantha turned the heat down on the sauce. “Or Grady. Or both of you.”

  “I know.” She’d listened to the news this morning, and was relieved to hear that while there had been injuries, no one had lost their life. “It was scary, Sam.”

  Visibly rattled, Sam went to Olivia and gave her a quick hug. “I can only imagine. Grady must have been out of his mind. What with—” She chomped down on her lip and shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Olivia said, knowing she’d trained Samantha to not bring up any mention of Cody. “You can say it. No more treating me with kid gloves. Okay?”

  Samantha blinked several times. Probably in surprise. “Okay. It might take me a while to get used to that, but good for you, Olivia. Really. What I was going to say was that going through another accident must have taken Grady back to the accident with Cody. That had to have freaked him out.”

  “I think it did. But he…he kept his cool until we were safe. I don’t know how he managed that.” The more Olivia thought about last night, the more impressed she was with how Grady had handled the crisis. Tough, strong and in control. “I was a basket case.”

  “Of course you were. I would’ve been, too.”

  “I doubt that. You’re always so…contained and capable.”

  Samantha did sort of a snort-giggle. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do. Though, I agree with the capable assessment.” She paused. “So, any chance you feel like discussing the hours before the accident?”

  “I told you everything, already. It was wonderful. Enchanting. The perfect day.” God. The smell of the spaghetti sauce was really doing a number on her stomach. She drank some more ginger ale. “Is there anything specific you want to know?”

  “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

  “No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know. I change my mind every five minutes.” Grady’s parting statement sifted into her consciousness. “But I think Grady’s tired of waiting. He…ah…told me to take all the time I needed, but that he’d let me know if…well, if he got tired of waiting.”

  Samantha scooted onto the stool next to Olivia. “Hey, this is fun.” At Olivia’s questioning glance, she continued, “Having you actually answer my questions instead of changing the topic or giving me a half-baked reply.”

  “About that, Sam.” Inhaling a deep, fortifying breath, Olivia said, “I realized that I haven’t been the friend to you that you’ve been to me. I’m sorry. Really sorry. But I am so grateful you’ve stuck around.” Olivia smiled to show her sincerity. “And I can’t promise that being open and forthcoming will stick, but I’m trying.”

  “Aw, Olivia…you’ve totally been worth waiting for.” Leaning forward, Samantha rested her chin on her laced-together fingers. Giving Olivia an intense look, she said, “Moving on…what’s holding you back with Grady? I mean…you love him, he loves you, blah-blah-freaking-blah and happily-ever-after, right? What’s the holdup, girl?”

  With a totally straight face, Olivia said, “Jeez, Sam. I can’t for the life of me figure out why you don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Hey. Don’t you do that answer-a-question-with-a-sarcastic-statement thing. That’s my thing!” Samantha flipped her hair over her shoulder. “And this conversation is about you.”

  “Fine. It’s exactly what you said. The happily-ever-after thing.”

  “Should I understand the deeper meaning in that response?”

  Olivia downed another mouthful of ginger ale. “I had the fairy tale once already. I believed in happily-ever-after once already. And look how that ended? I don’t know if I can…want to go for it again. In some ways, life is easier knowing you can’t have it all, even if that’s because it’s your choice.” She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant when, in fact, this dilemma was tearing her up inside. “And don’t bother telling me that life is about the good and the bad and that we have to live every day to its fullest. I am rational enough to understand that argument. But guess what, Sam? Sometimes the heart isn’t rational at all.”

  “Whoa girl, take a breath.”

  “A little overkill on the emotion, huh?”

  Samantha squeezed two fingers together. “A tiny bit, yeah. Look…you’re a smart woman. You’re already going through all of this in your head, and only you know what you’re capable of living with. And as much as I want to see you and Grady together again, I’m not you.”

  “If you were me, what would you do?”

  “I haven’t faced a tragedy like you have, my dear, so I can’t really answer that. I think I would go for the brass ring again. I hope I would. Life is short, you know? But I can’t be certain, and I’m not going to lie to you and say I can be.”

  “I appreciate your honesty. A ton. Thanks, Sam.”

  “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “Absolutely. And if I want to talk just for the sake of hearing my own voice, you’ll be happy to listen and nod your head, right?”

  “I’m an attorney. I’m damn good at that.” Sam laughed and nodded toward the pot of spaghetti sauce. “Now, I want that to simmer for a while. Want to keep chatting or go start a movie?”

  “Movie, please.” Hopefully, a few hours of a sexy man kicking ass and taking names would give her brain a much needed rest.

  “Cool. I have a selection of classic Steven Segal ready and waiting. What did you bring?”

  “Every Die Hard movie ever made.” Olivia grinned at Samantha’s grin. “Yep. I’m thinking Bruce, too.”

  Samantha grabbed the sofa before Olivia had the disc in the player, so Olivia mounded up some pillows and stretched out on the floor. The opening credits played, and then there he was: Bruce in all his glory.

  Sam sighed from behind Olivia. “I need a Bruce,” she said. “Where can I find one?”

  “I don’t know,” Olivia answered in faux sympathy. “Perhaps you should ask Santa.”

  A throw pillow hit Olivia square on the head. “No more talking,” Sam said. “Especially if you don’t have any better advice than that!”

  They watched the entire movie and half of another before Sam declared the spaghetti sauce was ready to be served. Back in the kitchen, Olivia tended to the cheesy-garlic bread sticks while Samantha simultaneously boiled pasta and made a salad. Within thirty minutes, they’d returned to the living room, started the movie where they left off, and dug in to dinner.

  The first bite of spaghetti went down okay. The second, not so much. By the third, Olivia was racing to the bathroom with her hand over her mouth. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and willed her stomach to behave. When she felt rather sure her food would stay put, she washed her face with cold water and rejoined Samantha.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I have the flu? I’ve been feeling off for a couple of days now. But there isn’t any way I can eat, and that sucks. I love your spaghetti sauce.” Olivia picked up her dinner plates and took them into the kitchen. Samantha followed. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should go home,” Olivia said. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

  “You know,” Sam said carefully, with an odd look on her face. “I remember when you were pregnant with Cody, you couldn’t even handle the smell of anything cooked with tomatoes. Is there something you haven’t told me, Olivia?”

  “What are you saying?” But then, the night Olivia spent with Grady clicked in her head. She quickly added up the dates. Oh, wow. “Umm…” She crossed to one of the stools and sat down before her legs gave out on her. And added up the dates again.

  “Olivia?”

  “Maybe,” she said in a faint voice. “It’s possible.”

  “Grady?”
<
br />   “No,” Olivia said flippantly. “A guy I met at the grocery store one night. Don’t even know his name.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Yes, Grady! Who else?”

  “Well, crap, Olivia. You didn’t tell me…not that you had to.” Samantha sat next to Olivia. “When?”

  “Umm…just about four weeks ago.” Almost to the day. Plus two days, actually. “Four weeks and two days ago.” A baby? Now? Try as she might, Olivia could not wrap her mind around this…but her heart was already expanding and softening and wishing.

  “I take it you guys didn’t use birth control?” Samantha asked, not bothering to hide the hint of humor in her voice. “You do know about birth control, right?”

  Olivia swallowed. Hard. “It was spur-of-the-moment. Neither of us planned it, Sam. And I certainly didn’t think… Hadn’t even considered…”

  “Well, then your mama never taught you about the birds and the bees. It’s like this, Olivia…a boy meets a girl, and sometimes, when the feelings are very, very strong—”

  “It’s probably just the flu. A stomach virus has been going around at work. So…this is probably nothing. A false alarm.” Olivia closed her eyes and mentally envisioned a calendar, and added up the dates again. She had to be wrong.

  But what if…what if she wasn’t? Her hand found her stomach and a slow fizz of hope trickled through her. “Umm…Sam?”

  “Want me to run to the drug store?”

  God, she loved Samantha. “Yes, please. I think I’m just going to sit here.”

  “Move to the living room where the smell of the spaghetti isn’t so strong.” Samantha gently shoved her off the bar stool. “Come on. I’ll buy you some more ginger ale, too. And don’t pee until I get back!”

  Olivia didn’t sit down again while waiting for Samantha. She paced from the living room to the hallway to Samantha’s bedroom, and then back again, and then again. The longer Samantha was gone, the more her hope built. And damn it, that was bad. Hope was dangerous. Hope made you want something before you knew if you could have it.

  So, for nearly forty-five excruciating minutes, she paced and hoped and told herself not to hope and paced some more. When Samantha finally rushed in with a bag in one hand and a six-pack of ginger ale in the other, Olivia had worked herself up to the point that hope was bubbling and percolating through her veins, leaving her unable to speak.

  “I’m so sorry it took so long!” Sam reached into the bag and took out three boxes. “There were tons of people at the store. The cashier was incredibly slow, and one guy’s credit card didn’t go through, and—” She broke off. “Doesn’t matter. Here. I bought three brands. So, you know, you can see if all three give the same result.”

  Olivia stared at Samantha and fought to stay rational. “What if I’m not?”

  Samantha blinked. “Most women, when faced with a potential unplanned pregnancy wouldn’t ask that question, my dear. They would be asking ‘What if I am?’” She stepped forward and held out the pregnancy kits. With a knowing smile, she said, “Just something to think about, Olivia.”

  Accepting the three boxes, Olivia turned on her heel to go the bathroom. Stopped. Turned back around. “Don’t they say you should take the test in the morning? For the best results?”

  “I bought two of each of kind.” Sam shook the still-full bag. “If those come up negative, you can retest in the morning. But these tests are ultrasensitive now. You might as well see.”

  Fate, Olivia soon discovered, can slip in a few surprises when you’re least prepared. Not all of them were bad. Not all of them stole something precious from you. Sometimes, something precious was given to you. She stared at the three pregnancy tests packaged in three slightly different ways, and her hope turned to reality. All three were positive.

  She was going to have a baby. Grady’s baby. Their baby.

  Chapter Twelve

  Five days before Christmas, and not one word from Olivia. Granted, Grady hadn’t contacted her, either. But that was because he’d sworn to himself to give her the time she needed. Well, a little time, anyway. He’d already decided if she hadn’t called him by Christmas Day, he’d at least check in. Not to pressure her, but to wish her a merry Christmas and to give her a gift he’d been saving. He believed with every cell in his body that she was finally ready to receive it. Hopefully, he was right in that belief.

  Stepping out of the shower, he toweled off and tried to decide how he would spend the long day ahead. He supposed he could do more shopping, but he’d already bought something for everyone on his list. And even though he’d closed the shop for the week, he could go in and get some work done on the Corvette that had come in the prior week. Or he could head over to Jace’s and give him a hand with his house’s renovation. Something he’d been promising to do for well over a month, but hadn’t gotten around to. As a bonus, he could badger his brother about Melanie. See how that Secret Santa move paid off.

  The truth was, though, that Grady didn’t particularly want to do any of those things. He ached to see Olivia. To hold her. To laugh with her. Hell, he’d be content to simply sit and stare at her for a while.

  “Pitiful,” he muttered. “She may very well choose to live her life without you. What are you going to do, spend the rest of your days pining for her?” Maybe. Probably.

  Okay. Jace’s it was, then. Grady put on his jeans and sweatshirt and went to give his brother a call. The phone rang the second his hand reached for it. Instinct sent a chill straight through him and his damn knees buckled. A glance at the Caller ID had his heart racing and acid sloshing around in his stomach. Olivia. Finally.

  The phone rang again. He hesitated, somehow afraid to answer the call he’d been waiting eight endless days for. “Wake up, man,” he said when the phone rang for a third time. A hundred and ninety-two hours of dead silence and he was standing here like an idiot. Not just any old type of idiot, either. But a shivering, weak-kneed, cold-palmed, fluttering-heart idiot at that. Not cool.

  He jabbed the answer button. “Hello?” he barked into the phone.

  “Umm…Grady?” Olivia said, the sound of her voice seeping over him like a salve on a fresh burn. “Are you all right? Is this a bad time for you to talk?”

  He tried to answer, but his vocal cords felt as if they were covered in a thick, gluey paste. So, instead of the “Now is fine” he meant to say, what came out was, “Nowth ith thine.”

  “Are you drunk, Grady?” Olivia asked. “At nine on a Tuesday morning?”

  Damn it. His gaze swept the room, looking for something to drink. Nothing. He took off for the kitchen. Fast. And managed to run straight into the wall.

  “Grady? What was that noise?” Olivia’s concern filtered through the line loud and clear.

  Water. He needed water. Making it to the kitchen he turned on the faucet full blast, filled a glass with water, and drank it down. “Sorry, Olly.” Whew. He sounded somewhat normal. “I…umm…had food in my mouth. And then dropped the phone. All’s good now.”

  “There you are. Jeez, you had me worried.”

  He pulled a chair out and sat down. “I’m fine,” he assured her. “How are you?”

  She sighed the slightest of sighs. “I’m good. I’m sorry I haven’t called before now. That wasn’t very fair of me, but…well, I needed to put some stuff in order.”

  “I told you to take all the time you needed. I meant that.” Even if he’d almost died from the waiting. “What…umm…can I do for you?”

  “Well, I was looking at the Christmas tree this morning and realized I left that beautiful ornament you gave me in your truck. I…hope it didn’t break or get lost or anything.”

  She was calling about the snowflake? The heavy weight of disappointment replaced his relief at hearing from her. “The ornament is fine, Olly. I have it right here, hanging in the kitchen window.”

  “Okay, good.” She paused, and he could almost see her pacing as she contemplated on what to say next. “Well, I was hoping… What I mean to say is—woul
d you like to come over on Christmas Eve? You…can bring the ornament with you. I love it so much, and I’d like to hang it on the tree while you’re here.”

  “Christmas Eve?” he half gurgled, half whimpered.

  “Do you have other plans? I know you’ll be at your folks’ house on Christmas Day, but I thought… Well, maybe we can get together after Christmas, then?”

  “No plans!” he shouted. God, what the hell was wrong with him? “Yes, Olly. I would very much enjoy spending Christmas Eve with you. What time were you thinking?”

  “Seven?”

  “Sure! Seven.” Kind of early, but maybe that was a good sign? Perhaps she wanted to spend the entire day with him? “Okay. Want me to bring anything for breakfast?”

  “Er, Grady…I meant seven at night,” she said with a small laugh. “Are you sure you haven’t been drinking? You’re very exuberant this morning.”

  “Not drinking. Just heading out the door to help Jace,” he said slowly, enunciating each word carefully. “So…umm…kind of in a hurry. But seven in the evening is fine.” Better. At least he hadn’t shouted in her ear.

  “Oh,” she said. Was that disappointment he heard? “You should get going, then. I’ll see you on Christmas Eve. Tell Jace I said hi.”

  He moved his jaw up and down to make sure it was functioning. Then, “Will do! See you then, Olivia.” As soon as he heard her disconnect, he threw the phone on the floor and groaned.

  Loudly.

  “Welcome to a repeat of your adolescence,” he muttered. “As if once wasn’t enough.”

  Combing his fingers through his hair, he replayed the entire conversation. Yeah, he’d been on the wrong side of crazy throughout the whole damn thing. Even when he’d originally met Olivia, he hadn’t succumbed to that level of idiocy.

  But she had called. And she wanted to see him. On Christmas Eve, no less. He couldn’t imagine the Olivia he knew ending their marriage on a holiday. Throughout everything, she had never been cruel. So should he feel hopeful? Maybe. But he didn’t.