Winter Wishes

by Fern Michaels

  “Those projects require commitment and responsibility. They’re complex, they involve a bunch of people, and I’m at the center of it. I’m the one who makes them happen and I’m good at it. When I commit, I follow through.”

  She liked the way he said it. Not boasting, just stating a fact. Sounding, yeah, responsible. “A project that takes a year, even two, is different from having a child. A child is forever.”

  He stared her straight in the eyes. “I’m prepared to commit forever.”

  She blew out air in a silent whew. Who’d have thought party boy Michael would ever speak those words? She should be glad but instead felt threatened. If Michael was in her son’s life forever, what would that do to her relationship with Cole? And how would she handle having a permanent tie to Michael? Slowly, she said, “If that’s true, you really have changed.”

  “I grew up. Is that so surprising? I was twenty-two.” The grin he used to flash all the time made an appearance. “And a spoiled only child. Now I’ve passed thirty and own my own business. You’re, uh, thirty as well?” At her nod, he went on. “You’re a mom and a pilot. You’re a grown-up, so why can’t I be one, too?” He put on a little boy pouty voice that reminded her of Cole, and his dark eyes danced with mischief.

  This side of Michael was pretty irresistible, yet she was in no mood to laugh. “Okay, that’s fair. We’re grown-ups, parents of a wonderful boy, and virtual strangers. What do you say we throw together some lunch and get to know each other a bit?”

  “An excellent idea.”

  She led him into the kitchen, but a few minutes later regretted it. The room never seemed small when it was her and Cole, but Michael, at six feet or so, broad shouldered and narrow hipped, took up too much space as he moved around, taking sliced turkey and mozzarella from the fridge and washing carrots. Too much air as well—which must be why she had trouble breathing evenly as she spread mayonnaise on bread and then sliced a tomato.

  Her nerve endings tingled and every time his clothing brushed hers, she almost jumped out of her skin. It was a relief when they sat across from each other at the four-seater dining room table—until his knee bumped hers. She scooted her chair back a couple of inches.

  If Michael did become a permanent part of her and Cole’s lives, it might be the biggest challenge she’d ever faced.

  Chapter Eight

  Though he’d hoped for a quick “yes,” Michael respected that Jillian wanted to know him better before deciding whether she was okay with Cole hearing the truth.

  So he’d try not to think about the fact that the “getting to know” he’d most like to do was exploring her curvy body, naked between the sheets. Too bad she looked so sexy in a snug navy sweater that made her blue eyes even brighter.

  Munching his sandwich, he waited for her to ask her first question. She seemed distracted, though, as she nibbled a carrot stick, not even looking up at him. She had said “get to know each other,” and that went both ways, so he would get the ball rolling. And he’d start with the question that hovered at the top of his mind. “So, is there a man in your life these days?”

  That brought her head up. “No. I don’t date much. I’m too busy with Cole and my job.”

  Which meant the closest thing Cole had to a father figure was his granddad. And Jillian’s lush body wasn’t getting the attention it deserved. And he shouldn’t be thinking about her body. “How did you decide to be a pilot? I don’t remember you mentioning it, back in school.”

  A smile flashed. “Like we talked about career paths? But no, I had no idea then.” Holding a triangle of sandwich, she went on. “It was on my return to the island. Aaron Gabriel—who’s my boss now—had a fledgling seaplane business, Blue Moon Air. I was on his flight and, well, I was pretty upset. About the baby, about having to tell my parents, about how my entire life was going to change.”

  Her brow crinkled and he felt sorry for the girl she’d been. All he’d had to do was cut back on expenses so as to put a portion of his healthy monthly allowance toward child support.

  “After Aaron let the other two passengers off at Galiano Island,” she went on, “he invited me to sit in the seat beside him. He asked if I was okay, and I kind of hiccupped out a ‘no.’ He said, ‘Take the yoke.’”

  “You mean the controls?”

  “Yes, the steering wheel thingie. In his Cessna 180, there’s one on each side. He took his hands off his and I gingerly put my hands on the other one.” Her face brightened. “He told me about altitude and direction, and then he said, ‘There you go, you’re flying.’ And I was. Slowly, it sank in.” Her blue eyes were as bright as a summer sky now. “I was flying like a bird, the whole beautiful, amazing world spread out below. My problems faded from my mind. I felt lighter, hopeful. For the first time, I was happy I was having a baby.”

  So even though she’d decided against an abortion, she hadn’t been happy about being pregnant. He hadn’t really thought about that back then, just respected her decision and been relieved when she turned down his proposal. But of course she wouldn’t have been happy, not when a birth control failure had screwed up her life. “Flying the plane made you feel happy you were pregnant?”

  “It was like the glass half empty switched over to half full. Suddenly, I saw the positives.” She flicked her head. “Oh, I knew there’d be problems, but life was good. I thought how nice it would be in the future, if things were getting me down, to be able to go up in a plane and fly, just fly into the wild blue yonder, and leave all those problems down on the ground.”

  She smiled at Michael. “I glanced over at Aaron and said, ‘You get to do this for a living?’ and he laughed. He said it was the best job ever. I saw the joy in his eyes, and that’s when I knew. So I told him, ‘I want to be a pilot.’ And he helped. He got his instructor rating and taught me. I still had to go over to the Victoria Flying Club, to get my private pilot license and then my commercial license. It was expensive, but those monthly payments of yours helped a lot, and Cole and I stayed with Mom’s parents, who live in Sidney not far from the airport.”

  “It must have taken a lot of hard work and discipline.”

  She chuckled. “Not things I was noted for back when you knew me.”

  “Well, I only saw the party side of you.”

  “I admit that the student side wasn’t all that serious. For me, university was more about getting away from a small community where everyone’s up in your business. I wanted freedom.”

  “And you ended up going home and being tied down by a kid.”

  Even as he said those words, words he’d have believed totally only a day ago, they felt hollow to him. Until he’d met Cole, he’d never really considered settling down and raising a family. But now . . . if there was a paternal instinct switch in the brain or heart, it seemed to have flipped on last night. When he’d started to tell Jillian he had no plans to marry and have other children, the words had stalled and he’d had to force them out. Maybe he no longer believed them? That notion was one he’d need to explore in the months to come.

  “Yes, but no,” she said. “Now I see the benefits of Destiny Island, and of my parents. And of my big brother and Dad’s parents, who live here, too. As for Cole, yes, a child is a huge responsibility, but he’s so much fun.” She grinned, looking almost like a child herself. “Kids know how to have fun better than adults. Besides, if I want freedom, I just leap into the sky.”

  “Fun and freedom. I’m glad you have those things, Jillian.”

  “Me too. Now, how about you?” She picked up her sandwich again. “How did you decide on architecture?”

  He shook his head ruefully, remembering how unfocused he’d been as a brand-new university graduate. “Can you believe I actually went to a career counselor?”

  “Really?”

  “When my parents found out I hadn’t applied to med school or law school, following in one set of their footsteps, they were pissed off. But I’d seen what their lives were like. They do both enjoy their work,
but they’re type A people and their work rules them rather than vice versa. They nagged me to get serious about a career and I had no sense of direction, so we agreed I’d see a counselor. I took tests, which indicated I had the skills and attributes to be an architect.”

  “And you had that big ‘aha’ moment like I did with flying?”

  “Not then. I went home and researched it online, and realized it was perfect.”

  She’d finished her sandwich and now rested her elbows on the table and propped her chin on her fists. “How so?”

  This was strange, the two of them stone cold sober, sitting and talking over turkey-and-cheese sandwiches. But it was good. He still felt a buzz of lust, but he saw that Jillian was more than just a sexy woman and a responsible mom; she was an intriguing person in her own right. He liked that she seemed interested in him, too, though probably her main motivation was making sure he was a fit parent for Cole.

  “On the tech side,” he said, “as well as the Lego thing, I’ve always enjoyed math and science and been good at art, especially the drafting kind. I’m practical-creative.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Painting a picture doesn’t grab me, but I get excited about designing a structure—house, shopping mall, whatever—that achieves multiple purposes and is attractive and eco-friendly. So anyhow, I’ve always had the skills and the interests that apply to architecture, so I’d taken a number of undergrad courses that proved to be relevant. I have the right personality traits, too.”

  “Such as?”

  “Being confident, a good communicator, a problem solver, a negotiator. Flexible. Able to lead but also to really listen to what people are saying.”

  “Don’t forget charm,” she said wryly. “I bet you can persuade clients and contractors to do almost anything you want.”

  Chapter Nine

  Michael chuckled, flattered that she still found him charming. “Except it’s not about what I want. It’s about what the client wants—really wants, which isn’t necessarily what they first say they want—and figuring out how to best bring that to life. That involves intuition, creativity, research. I like to learn, at least if it’s a subject that intrigues me. I’m pretty organized when I’m motivated, and I have an assistant who keeps track of all the important stuff.”

  “Looking at your Web site, it seems it’s just you and your assistant, right? Louise Jones?”

  He smiled fondly, picturing the stylish, personable, and supremely efficient woman he’d been lucky enough to hire. “Yes, and she’s as important to the firm as I am. I thrive on being my own boss and working flexible hours. Louise organizes things so I can do that and so the firm’s still efficient. She’s the office manager, my assistant, the bookkeeper, and she’s even learned how to update the Web site, although she insists she’s a tech dinosaur.”

  “I didn’t know tech dinosaurs still existed, except for seniors.”

  “That’s her excuse. She’s sixty-six.”

  “You hired a senior? Here I’d assumed she’d be young, sleek, gorgeous.”

  Had she felt a twinge of jealousy? For some reason, he hoped so. “Shows how little you know me. And, by the way, don’t ever call Louise old. She says sixty’s the new forty.”

  Jillian chuckled. “She sounds great. Are your parents okay with your career choice?”

  “Okay being the operative word. Not thrilled, but at least it’s a respectable career. Once they reconciled themselves to it, they started referring friends and colleagues to me.” He rolled his eyes. “After all, it wouldn’t do to have a son who wasn’t a success. I hate to admit this, but it’s in large part due to them that I’ve been able to build the firm so quickly.” Them, and the investment of some of the money he’d inherited when his grandmother died.

  “I assume you wouldn’t get ongoing referrals if you didn’t do good work.”

  He smiled at her. “Thanks for that. And no, I wouldn’t. I do very good work. It just rankles a bit that I didn’t make it entirely on my own.”

  She shrugged. “Part of me wants to criticize you as being a spoiled rich kid. But then I’ve taken lots of help from my parents. Family should be there for each other.”

  If Jillian agreed to let Michael be part of Cole’s life, he would tell his family about the boy. Deepa would be a wonderful great-auntie, but as for his parents . . . Would they be any more involved in their grandson’s life than they had been in his?

  “I guess that’s true,” he said. “In fact, right now I’m designing renos for their house, and of course I won’t charge for the work.”

  “There you go.” She sat back and stretched. “So you, too, have a job that offers fun and a fair bit of freedom.”

  “Exactly. And every project is so different, complicated in a unique way, I’ll never get bored.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Do you get bored easily? What happens if you get bored with Cole?”

  He didn’t want to give a flip answer, so he considered her question. Then, shaking his head, he said, “How could a child ever be boring? Especially when he’s your own.”

  “That’s so true.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “There’s still a fair bit of the boy in you, right?”

  “I promise I’m responsible.”

  “Sorry, that’s not how I meant it. It was more that you like to have fun and you approach your job with excitement. The same as I do.”

  He nodded. “In that sense, I hope I never entirely grow up.”

  An alarm beeped and she stood. “That’s my reminder. I have a flight.” She went to the island separating the dining area from the kitchen, and picked up her phone.

  “What’s your work schedule like?” He rose to join her.

  “It varies by season. Winter’s slower, though it’s picked up now because of the holidays. We’re doing at least one morning and one afternoon return trip to Vancouver, with stops in Victoria and wherever else people need to go. We also have individual charters and, with tourists here now, a few sightseeing flights. We have two planes, a de Havilland Beaver that takes six passengers and a Cessna 180 that takes three. Aaron and I try to juggle the flights so we each get time off when we need it.”

  “And your parents help out with Cole?”

  She nodded. “If I have an early flight, they take him to school when they go to the store. If I can’t pick him up after school, either he goes home with his friend Jordan or Mom or Dad get him and take him to the store.” She grinned. “When he finishes his homework, they have him help out. My parents start early with the kids in the family.”

  He smiled. “It seems everyone wants a child to follow in their footsteps.” Then his smile faded and he asked the most important question. “So, what happens next for me and Cole?” One thing he’d realized last night was that, if he consulted a lawyer, he’d probably find that he had the legal right to be recognized as Cole’s dad and to have visitation privileges. He only hoped he’d never have to go that route, though. He wanted a good relationship with Jillian, not a strained one with each of them resenting the other.

  She gazed at him, her blue eyes serious. “Dinner here, the three of us. You can spend the evening playing Legos or we’ll watch a video. But I’m not ready to tell him you’re his father.”

  It was a step in the right direction. Relieved, he said, “Fair enough. Thanks. How about I pick up groceries and cook dinner?”

  “You can cook?” she said incredulously. Then, probably remembering his similar question the previous night, she laughed. “Sorry. We still have some getting-to-know-you to do.”

  Chapter Ten

  When she’d trusted Michael with her house key so he could arrive before her and get a start on dinner, Jillian hadn’t expected to come home to an utterly delicious aroma. Cole, whom she’d picked up at Jordan’s house, said, “Mmm. Is Granny cooking?”

  She hadn’t told her son Michael would be there because she hadn’t been one hundred percent sure he’d show, but the spicy scent was definitely no
t from one of her mom’s recipes. Besides, Mom always used her own larger kitchen.

  Cole didn’t wait for an answer. Nor did he take off his gum boots before running to the kitchen. “Granny, are you—oh! Michael, it’s you. Hi.”

  Michael’s deep voice greeted Cole as Jillian took off her boots and placed them on the mat by the door, beside Michael’s city shoes. She peeled off her coat and toque and, glancing in the mirror by the door, fluffed her hat-flattened curls.

  In the kitchen, she found Michael in the same clothes as earlier, washing dishes. He cooked and he cleaned up after himself? Impressive. And a good role model for their son.

  “Cole, go take off your boots,” she said. And then, to Michael, “What smells so good?”

  “Butter chicken. It’s always been one of my favorites. It isn’t as spicy as a lot of Indian food, so it should be kid-friendly.”

  “A family recipe?”

  “It’s a quicker, easier variation of Deepa’s. And it’s almost done.” Cole had returned, and Michael said, “Why don’t you two wash up or whatever while I finish the dishes?”

  From that excellent start, the evening went better than Jillian could have hoped. The butter chicken, served over rice and accompanied by store-bought naan bread, was delicious. Michael hadn’t brought dessert, so they ate crisp slices of apple along with shortbread with red and green sprinkles, which Jillian and Cole had made.

  She cleaned up the dinner dishes while Cole and Michael got a fire going. Then she relaxed in her recliner and pretended to read, but really just enjoyed watching the two “boys” down on the living room floor playing with Cole’s Mystery Mansion Legos. Their mutual task and similar approaches led to a quick rapport and she knew she’d made the right decision, inviting Michael over tonight.

  But darn it, something pinched inside her at seeing how much fun they were having. She’d never been construction oriented herself, and the only Lego kits she related to were the ones with planes and helicopters.