In From the Cold

by Meg Adams

  Finally, the storm passed. Like an emotional gullywasher, his kiss had washed away the pain and tension of a miserable day. We held on to one another as our breathing calmed, his forehead resting on mine.

  “Oh Claire.” He sighed. “What a mess.” He nuzzled my forehead with his nose, then kissed it tenderly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear, squeezing me tight. “So sorry.”

  “Me too,” I whispered back and clutched him tighter, as if the sincerity of my regret could brand him. “So sorry.”

  I was suddenly exhausted, my legs like rubber, and I knew I had nothing left in me tonight. I leaned back and looked up at him, his eyes weary too. “Let’s go to bed.”

  He leaned farther back. “Together?”

  “Together.”

  We held each other up as we walked down the hall into his room. We stripped our clothes and fell onto the mattress, too tired to think or talk. In a few moments, though, I heard him shift closer to my ear.

  “Dancing naked with a rubber chicken? Really?” he whispered, and I could feel his smile in the dark.

  I snuggled into his heat, and a small smile tugged at my lips. I had stood my ground, and I hadn’t run. And neither had he.

  We were still together.

  Chapter Twelve

  Drake

  I had meetings all the next day and another business meeting/party that night, but I couldn’t wait to get home. Claire’s face had looked a little uncertain this morning, last night’s fight still to be discussed. There was so much I didn’t know or understand about her. And after the fight, that I didn’t understand about myself.

  I thought I had put Miles and Wanda behind me, and while I knew that I wanted Claire, it scared me shitless that I needed her. Seeing Claire and Miles together hadn’t smacked of betrayal as much as it had felt like a wound, as if Miles were carving my heart out.

  Yesterday had been wonderful, full of jokes and teasing and fun. The excitement of the girls, the magic of the reindeer/elk, the Christmas shopping, holding Claire’s hand or playing with her hair, all these things made me feel whole and happy. But she had seemed distant and remote, and that scared me too. I didn’t want her to retreat from me. I wanted to know everything she was feeling. But she didn’t seem to know that, and I wasn’t sure what it would take to convince her.

  I tugged off my bowtie as I walked up the stairs, then looked in on the girls, both peaceful in their bed. They still preferred to cuddle together, and I knew the feeling. I hated sleeping alone too, hated being alone. I’d been edgy and unsatisfied for a while, and this time with Claire and the girls was making me realize just how tired I was of my life. After Wanda, I had buried myself in work, away from Suzie, away from possible pain or disappointment, but I had never stopped wanting a special bond with a woman, to build a family. After Wanda, I’d lost trust in my instincts and judgment, but when I looked at Claire, felt her in my arms, something inside clicked, like a key puzzle piece that, once discovered, shows you the way to the rest.

  Last night was a setback. She was mine. I knew it, but I had to rebuild her trust in me. Tonight, I had some catch-up work to do. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and if I played my cards right, I might get what I wanted for Christmas. Another shot with Claire.

  I walked to my room, hoping Claire would be asleep in my bed, but it sat painfully empty in the moonlight. I tugged on some PJ bottoms and padded quietly back to Claire’s room. There was no way I was going to waste another night away from her.

  I slipped through her door and studied her sleeping form. She lay curled on her side, her knees drawn up, one hand under her pillow. Her breathing was deep and even, her chest barely rising and falling. A fierce craving came over me to protect her, to keep all assholes away who might ever hurt her.

  Slowly, I pulled the covers back and slid in beside her. I spooned into her, nestling my face in her hair, my arm draped around her waist. I was aroused, but oddly, I didn’t want to make love to her. I just wanted to hold her, to breathe her air. I wanted her to feel how I needed her, and with a final kiss in her hair, I fell deeply asleep.

  I was dreaming of Claire, rocking into her, her passion mounting with mine in perfect harmony. I was riding and riding her, feeling every smooth thrust slipping into her gripping wet tightness, her swollen folds stroking my cock, dragging moans from deep in my chest. I was building, my balls clenching, my floodtide rising, my teeth gritting, holding, when a painful thud hit my back.

  “Daddy! What are you doing in here? Why’re you in Miss Claire’s bed?”

  Goddddd.

  I opened one eye slowly, then closed it again. Claire was gone, and Suzie was sprawled on my back, her hand sticky on my cheek. Vaguely, I heard water running in the bathroom and assumed Claire must be in there. I tried to ignore my throbbing erection.

  “Wow. Am I in Miss Claire’s room?” I mumbled, playing stupid. “I must have gotten lost.”

  Someone cleared her throat and I opened one eye again. Claire leaned against the bathroom doorway, her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, one side of her mouth curled into a grin.

  “Silly Daddy. Your room’s the other way.”

  “You’re right, Birdie. Maybe we should put signs on the doors.”

  “Okay.” Suzie jumped off my back, then scooched up to look at me one inch away. I went cross-eyed, and Suzie giggled. I heard Claire giggle across the room too. I loved hearing my girls giggle. My girls.

  “Guess what today is, Daddy?”

  “Ummm, I give up. What is it?” I rolled onto my back and Suzie climbed on my chest, her knees hard grinding little knobs. Yvette climbed up beside her, and I stroked her hair.

  “It’s Christmas Eve.”

  “Really? No way.”

  “Daddy, we need your big socks.”

  “Why?”

  “For stockings.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I guess mine would be big enough. Or we could use your boots.”

  “Really?” Suzie sounded doubtful, and looked at Yvette. Yvette shrugged, and Suzie turned back to me.

  “In some countries, children use their shoes or boots instead of stockings. They leave them at the foot of their bed, and Santa fills them.”

  “Okay.” She was still unconvinced. “But will Santa know to look?”

  “Of course.” I winked at Claire, who masked her smile with her fingers. “Santa knows everything.”

  Suzie cocked an eyebrow, thought a moment, then shook her head. “I still want socks.” Then she and Yvette hopped down from the bed and ran out of the room.

  I smiled, feeling happy, downright lighthearted. Claire stood there watching me, her infectious grin on her face. If I woke up without her now, the day would feel empty, and I would feel more alone than I could ever stand to feel again.

  “I guess I’m not as convincing as I’d like to think,” I said. “Did you sleep well, Miss Claire?”

  “Very well, thank you.” She smiled, and flames licked my groin.

  I propped myself on one elbow and lifted a corner of the covers, invitingly, my erection still throbbing. “Wouldn’t you like to come back to bed? You don’t look quite finished to me.”

  “Tempting, but I think we’re both quite finished for now.” She shot a significant look toward the laughter from the great room. “Suzie has plans for you.”

  I collapsed back onto my side and grumbled. “Santa’s not listening to me.”

  Claire sat down on the edge of the bed and lightly smacked my cheek.

  “Maybe Santa only rewards good little boys.”

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a kiss.

  “Oh, I’ve been good, Miss Claire. Very, very good.”

  “Hmmm.” She placed her hand on my chest, stopping me. Whatever hobgoblins had bothered Claire hovered, but her eyes looked warm again. Thank God. I was ready to move forward.

&n
bsp; I broke into a wide grin. “Come on, then. It’s Christmas Eve.”

  Claire and I cooked a huge breakfast—animal-shaped pancakes and sausage, grapefruit, coffee and hot chocolate. Suzie and Yvette made some homemade ornaments with beads, pinecones and glue, while Claire supervised. I sat in front of the fire, pretending to read The Wall Street Journal, but I spent most of my time watching them over the rim of my coffee cup. Claire was so good with them, warm and attentive, so tuned into them that she seemed to know what they were going to do or say before they did. Suzie obviously loved her, and I could hardly recognize Yvette as the same little girl I’d met a week ago. She was still quiet, but the wariness was largely gone. She smiled and giggled and laughed, still following Suzie’s lead, but as a partner, not an onlooker.

  But Claire was such a pleasure to watch. Every now and then some of her silky hair would fall loose from her headband, and she’d pull off the band, run her fingers through her hair, then pull the band back on, totally unselfconscious. Every other woman I knew would have stopped, found a mirror and adjusted every strand for maximum effect. But Claire had no idea how much her insouciance intrigued me. I had known lots of beautiful women in my life, but that’s all they’d had—beauty. Claire had beauty and character. She was interesting. Intriguing. Bewitching. Watching her bend over the table made me feel like a starving wolf eyeing its first meal in a month.

  We were interrupted by the doorbell.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, and hurried down the stairs. I had a good idea who it might be.

  The delivery boy handed me the packages, and after I tipped him, I clomped back up to the bedrooms. I arranged the girls’ packages on their beds and Claire’s on hers, then walked nonchalantly back into the great room.

  “Who was that?” Claire asked.

  “A surprise.”

  “Oh?”

  “It is Christmas Eve, you know—surprises are part of the ‘whole genie gig’.”

  “What kind of surprise, Daddy?” Suzie ran to me, jumping up and down. I scooped her into my arms, letting her swing backward, upside down. She squealed with delight, and I felt happy and expectant—like a kid at Christmas.

  “It’s for the party tonight.”

  “A party!” Suzie buzzed.

  “A party?” Claire echoed.

  “Yup. At the Fritzes’ this evening. And we’re all invited.”

  Suzie clapped her hands and ran to Yvette, who looked a little uncertain. Claire looked even more so. I couldn’t let her keep that look on her face, so I put my arms around her.

  “It’s just a Christmas Eve get-together,” I whispered. “The gaiety of the season, jollity of the occasion, the whole spiel.” I nuzzled her neck. She smelled like Claire, pinecones and glue. I stole a quick kiss on her hair.

  “I don’t know…” She sounded really nervous.

  “I’ll stay with you. Okay?”

  “You can’t. You need to schmooze.” She shook her head and tried to pull away from me, but I dragged her back into my arms even tighter. I forced her to look at me. She bit her lip and tried to look away, and I wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt.

  “Even I take a break on Christmas Eve. And I want you there with me.” I rubbed my thumb along her lower lip. “It won’t feel right without you.” To hell with it. I tipped up her chin and kissed her, slow and sweet. I could feel the girls watching us and pulled my lips away.

  “Please?” I whispered.

  She studied my face for several moments, then finally sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

  “Good girl,” I said and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Daddy?” Suzie asked, a puzzled look on her face.

  “Yes, sugar?” I knew what was coming.

  “Why’d you kiss Miss Claire?”

  Claire was scowling at me, but I held her close. Suzie reminded me of Little Cindy Lou Who, and like the Grinch, I thought up a lie, and I thought it up quick.

  “Miss Claire had a boo-boo, and I was kissing it better.” Suzie looked solemnly at me and then at Claire. I didn’t think my baby was as gullible as Cindy Lou.

  “You feel better now, don’t you, Miss Claire?” I asked, squeezing her.

  “Oh yes. Boo-boo’s all gone.” Claire rolled her eyes at me, and Suzie still didn’t look convinced. Time for plan B.

  “Now come see your surprises.” I pulled Claire by the hand and waved to the girls to come too. We stopped at their room first.

  “Look on your beds.”

  There were two identical black velvet dresses with sapphire-blue satin trim, white stockings and black patent-leather shoes. Beside each was an American Girl doll dressed in a matching outfit, one with hair like Suzie’s and one like Yvette’s.

  “I gave you the ones that look like yourselves, but you can switch if you want.” I was surprisingly nervous. I didn’t think to buy gifts very often, and I wanted this to be special, but I knew next to nothing about buying things for little girls. I doubted they would care much about the dresses, but the dolls I thought they’d like. But were they old enough for such grown-up dolls? I had no idea.

  “Do you like them?” I was growing worried by their silence.

  “Pretty,” Suzie sighed. She tentatively reached out and stroked the velvet. Yvette stood beside her and slowly petted her dress too. Then they picked up the dolls, fingering their hair, their clothes, their tiny shoes.

  Claire sidled up next to me, and I pulled her into my side.

  “Do you think they like them? The dolls aren’t too old for them, are they?” I whispered, still uncertain. I had expected squeals, not this reverence.

  “Maybe a little old, but I think they’re more overwhelmed, Yvette especially.” She kissed me on the cheek. “It’s a lovely gift, and they’ll look adorable in the dresses.”

  I relaxed a little and squeezed her. “There’s something on your bed too,” I whispered.

  “Really?”

  “Really. Go see.”

  I heard her walk into the bedroom. She was gone for a minute, but soon came back, holding her black velvet sheath dress in front of her. I hadn’t seen her in a dress, but I trusted the personal shopper when I asked for simple and classic.

  “What do you think?”

  “That depends.” She smiled. “If you’re going for adorable, the girls have that covered.”

  “I asked for simple and classic.” I kissed her on the neck and murmured, “But got very, very sexy. We’ll let the girls have adorable, although to me, you’re that too.” I nipped her earlobe. “I can’t wait to see you in it—and out of it.” I felt her smile.

  “The dress is beautiful.” She kissed me on the lips. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  She turned to the girls, still mesmerized by the dolls. I felt a bit mesmerized too, by my own living doll.

  “What do you say, girls?” Claire prompted.

  Suzie finally turned, her mouth curling into a wide smile. “They’re really ours, Daddy?”

  “Yup.”

  “All ours?”

  “Yup.”

  She looked at Yvette, who answered Suzie’s smile with one of her own.

  “Yayyyyyyyy!” And so the squeals began. Both girls leapt on me and covered me with kisses. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, Uncle Drake!”

  “I think you’re a hit.” Claire pecked me on the cheek, and I felt my heart grow three sizes.

  Yeah.

  We spent the time until the party decorating a small tree with their handmade ornaments, then baking Christmas cookies. Even “slice and bake” seemed to thrill the girls, and I curled up with them in a nest in front of the fire, eating cookies, drinking cocoa and reading aloud the Christmas books Claire had picked up the day before. The snow fell outside, the fire crackled within, the girls snuggled close, including Claire, who sat beside m
e with Yvette on her lap. All seemed right with the world.

  That afternoon, they dressed in their new clothes, the girls definitely adorable in their matching dresses, and Claire sexy and gorgeous in her black sheath. Her shoes, deep sapphire high heels, matched the ribbon on the girls’ dresses, and I yearned to run my hands down her sides, to feel her warm curves under that slinky velvet. I sighed with pleasure at the thought.

  My girls. Sugar and spice and…sexy.

  I took a picture of the three in front of our tree, looking forward to the party. I was in a suit, not a tux, and felt more like myself. I wore a sapphire tie, feeling connected to them, like a family. It was heady and exciting and totally, totally wishful thinking. But if you can’t be wishful at Christmas, when can you be?

  Still, I was determined to enjoy myself. James picked us up and drove us to the Fritzes’ estate, a cedar post-and-beam mansion situated against the snow-flanked Tetons. Long garlands of roped cedar festooned the porch, and every window sparkled with candles. Two huge matching wreaths with gigantic red bows hung on the entry doors, and an antique sleigh sat off to one side, festooned with more greenery and ribbons and piled high with presents.

  Claire was speechless when we pulled up, hesitant to even get out of the limo. I squeezed her hand. I could still remember how intimidating money could be. Having seen, however, how much unhappiness it could also bring, I wasn’t as impressed as I used to be, so had a thicker skin toward it. The girls were oblivious.

  “Hey.” I jiggled her hand. “They still look silly in underwear and put their boots on one at a time.”

  Claire grimaced, clutching my arm.

  “It’s, it’s…” She choked, then wove her fingers through mine.

  “What? Tell me,” I demanded.

  “Drake, I… Don’t be…” She searched my face, then turned to the window again. She took a deep breath, forcing the words from her lungs. “Disappointed. I’m just a teacher, a nanny, for God’s sake. I couldn’t bear it if… That is, I’m not… Oh hell.”

  “I know you’re not and I love you all the more for it.”