Merry Christmas, Baby Maverick!

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Merry Christmas, Baby Maverick! Page 3

by Brenda Harlen


  And in order for her earring to end up in his bed—well, he had to assume that Kayla had been there, too.

  And what did it say about him that he didn’t even remember? Of course, it was entirely possible that they’d gotten into bed together and both passed out. Not something to be particularly proud of but, under the circumstances, probably the best possible scenario.

  He tucked the earring in his pocket and finished stripping the bed, shaking out the sheets and pillowcases to ensure there weren’t any other hidden treasures inside. Thankfully, there were not. Then he saw the corner of something peeking out from beneath the bed—and scooped up an empty condom wrapper.

  He closed his eyes and swore.

  The idea that he’d slept with Kayla Dalton had barely sunk into his brain when he saw her later that day.

  She’d been polite and friendly, if a little reserved, and she’d given absolutely no indication that anything had happened between them, making him doubt all of his own conclusions about the night before.

  It had taken a long time for his memories of that night to come into focus, for him to remember.

  And now that those memories were clear, he was determined to talk to Kayla about what happened that night—and where they would go from here.

  * * *

  Kayla was on her way to the newspaper office when she spotted Trey’s truck parked outside the community center.

  She’d heard that he was coming back to Rust Creek Falls for the holidays, but she wasn’t ready to face him. Not yet. There were still three weeks until Christmas. Why was he here already? She needed more time to plan and prepare, to figure out what to say, how to share the news that she knew would turn his whole world upside down.

  The back of his truck was filled with boxes and the doors to the building were open. She’d heard that last year’s gift drive for the troops was being affiliated with Thunder Canyon’s Presents for Patriots this year, and she suspected that the boxes were linked to that effort.

  “Kayla—hi.”

  She didn’t need to look up to know it was Trey who was speaking. It wasn’t just that she’d recognized his voice, it was that her heart was racing the way it always did whenever she was near him.

  But she glanced up, her gaze skimming at least six feet from his well-worn cowboy boots to his deep green eyes, and managed a smile. “Hi, Trey.”

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, flashing an easy grin that suggested he was genuinely happy to see her.

  Which didn’t really make any sense. She not only hadn’t seen the guy in four months, she hadn’t spoken a single word to him in that time, either. There had been no exchange of emails or text messages or any communication at all. Not that she’d expected any, but her infatuated heart had dared to hope—and been sorely wounded as a result of that silly hope.

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  Pregnant.

  The word was on the tip of her tongue because, of course, that reality had been at the forefront of her mind since she’d seen the little plus sign in the window of the test. But she didn’t dare say it aloud, because she knew he couldn’t understand the relevance of the information when he didn’t even remember sleeping with her.

  “Fine,” she said instead. “And you?”

  “Fine,” he echoed.

  She nodded.

  An awkward silence followed, which they both tried to break at the same time.

  “Well, I should—”

  “Maybe I could—”

  Then they both stopped talking again.

  “What were you going to say?” Trey asked her.

  “Just that I should be going—I’m on my way to the newspaper office.”

  “Do you work there?”

  She nodded. “I’m a copy editor.”

  “Oh.”

  And that seemed to exhaust that topic of conversation.

  “It was good to see you, Trey.”

  “You, too.”

  She started past him, relieved that this first and undeniably awkward encounter was over. Her heart was pounding and her stomach was a mass of knots, but she’d managed to exchange a few words with him without bursting into tears or otherwise falling to pieces. A good first step, she decided.

  “Kayla—wait.”

  And with those two words, her opportunity to flee with her dignity intact was threatened.

  Since she hadn’t moved far enough away to be able to pretend that she hadn’t heard him, she reluctantly turned back.

  He took a step closer.

  “I wanted to call you,” he said, dropping his voice to ensure that his words wouldn’t be overheard by any passersby. “There were so many times I thought about picking up the phone, just because I was thinking about you.”

  Her heart, already racing, accelerated even more. “You were thinking about me?”

  “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we danced at the wedding.”

  Since we danced?

  That was what he remembered about that night?

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Under other circumstances, it might have been flattering to think that a few minutes in his arms had made such a lasting impression. Under her current circumstances, the lack of any impression of what had come afterward was hurtful and humiliating.

  “I really do have to go. My boss is expecting me.”

  “What are you doing later?”

  She frowned. “Tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m going to the movies with Natalie Crawford.”

  “Oh.”

  He sounded so sincerely disappointed, she wanted to cancel her plans and agree to anything he wanted. Except that kind of thinking was responsible for her current predicament.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” she said.

  He held her gaze for another minute before he nodded. “Count on it.”

  She walked away, knowing that she already did and cursing the traitorous yearning of her heart.

  * * *

  Trey helped finish unloading the truck, then headed over to the boarding house. He arrived just as his grandmother was slicing into an enormous roast, and the tantalizing aroma made his mouth water.

  “Mmm, something smells good.”

  Melba set down her utensils and wiped her hands on a towel before she crossed the room to envelop him in a warm hug. “I was hoping you’d be here in time for dinner.”

  “I’d tell you that I ignored the speed limit to make sure of it, but my grandmother would probably disapprove,” he teased.

  “She certainly would,” Melba agreed sternly.

  “In time for dinner but not in time to mash the potatoes,” Claire said, as she finished her assigned task.

  His grandmother let him go and turned him over to his cousin, who hugged him tight.

  He tipped her chin up to look into her brown eyes. “Everything good?”

  “Everything’s great,” she assured him, her radiant smile confirming the words.

  “Levi?” he prompted, referring to the husband she’d briefly separated from in the summer.

  “In the front parlor, playing with Bekka.”

  “It’s so much fun to have a child in the house again,” their grandmother said. “I can’t wait for there to be a dozen more.”

  “Don’t count on me to add another dozen,” Claire warned. “I have my hands full with one.”

  “At least you’ve given me one,” Melba noted, with a pointed glance in Trey’s direction.

  He moved to the sink and washed his hands. “What can I do to help with dinner?” he asked, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

  “You can get down the pitcher for the gravy.” Melba gestured to a cupboard far o
ver her head. “Then round up the rest of the family.”

  Trey retrieved the pitcher, then gratefully escaped from the kitchen. Of course, he should have expected the conversation would circle back to the topic of marriage and babies during the meal.

  “So what’s been going on in town since I’ve been gone?” he asked, scooping up a forkful of the potatoes Claire had mashed.

  “Goodness, I don’t know where to begin,” his grandmother said. “Oh—the Santa Claus parade was last weekend and the Dalton girl got engaged.”

  The potatoes he’d just swallowed dropped to the bottom of his stomach like a ball of lead. “Kayla?”

  His grandmother shook her head. “Her sister, Kristen.”

  Trey exhaled slowly.

  He didn’t know why he’d immediately assumed Kayla, maybe because he’d seen her so recently and had been thinking about her for so long, but the thought of her with another man—engaged to another man—had hit him like a physical jab.

  He’d been away from Rust Creek Falls for months—it wasn’t just possible but likely that Kayla had gone out with other guys during that time. And why shouldn’t she? They’d spent one night together—they didn’t have a relationship.

  And even if they did, he wasn’t looking to fall in love and get married. So why did the idea of her being with another man make him a little bit crazy?

  “Who’d she get engaged to?” he asked, picking up the thread of the conversation again.

  “Maggie Roarke’s brother, Ryan,” Claire said.

  Trey didn’t know Ryan Roarke, but he worked with his brother, Shane, at the Thunder Canyon Resort. And he knew that their sister had moved to Rust Creek Falls the previous year. “Maggie’s the new lawyer in town—the one married to Jesse Crawford?”

  His grandmother nodded. “She gave up her fancy office in LA to make a life here with Jesse, because they were in love.”

  “I thought it was because he knocked her up,” Gene interjected.

  Melba wagged her fork at her husband. “They were in love,” she insisted.

  “And five months after they got married, they had a baby,” Gene told him.

  His wife sniffed—likely as much in disapproval of the fact as her husband’s recitation of gossip. “What matters is that they’re together now and a family with their little girl.”

  “Speaking of little girls,” Trey said, looking at his cousin’s daughter seated across from him in her high chair. “I can’t get over how much this one has grown in the past few months.”

  “Like a weed,” Levi confirmed, ruffling the soft hair on the top of his daughter’s head.

  Bekka looked up at him, her big blue eyes wide and adoring.

  “No doubt that one’s a daddy’s girl,” Claire noted.

  Her husband just grinned.

  “Speaking of Kayla Dalton,” his grandmother said.

  “Who was speaking of Kayla Dalton?” Gene asked.

  “Trey was,” Melba said.

  “We were talking about Bekka.”

  “Earlier,” Melba clarified. “When I mentioned the Dalton girl got engaged, he asked if it was Kayla.”

  “Hers was just the first name that came to mind,” Trey hastened to explain.

  “And I wonder why that was,” his grandmother mused.

  “Probably because he was up close and personal with her at Braden and Jennifer’s wedding,” Claire teased.

  “Anyway,” Melba interjected. “I was wondering if you were going to see Kayla while you’re in town.”

  “I already did,” he admitted. “She walked by the community center when we were unloading the truck.”

  His grandmother shook her head as she began to stack the empty plates. “I meant, are you going to go out with her?”

  “Melba,” her husband said warningly.

  “What? Is there something wrong with wanting my grandson to spend time with a nice girl?”

  Claire pushed away from the table to help clear it.

  “Kayla is a nice girl,” Trey confirmed. “But if you’ve got matchmaking on your mind, you’re going to be disappointed—I’m not looking to settle down yet, not with anybody.”

  “And even if he was, Kayla is hardly his type,” Claire noted.

  Levi’s brows lifted. “Trey has a type?”

  “Well, if he did, it wouldn’t be the shy wallflower type,” his wife said.

  “Still waters run deep,” their grandmother noted.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Trey asked warily.

  “It means that there’s a lot more to that girl than most people realize,” Melba said, setting an enormous apple pie on the table.

  Claire brought in the dessert plates and forks.

  “And ice cream,” her grandmother said. “Bekka’s going to want some ice cream.”

  “I think Bekka wants her bath and bed more than she wants ice cream,” Claire said, noting her daughter’s drooping eyelids.

  “Goodness, she’s falling asleep in her chair.”

  “My fault,” Levi said, pushing his chair away from the table and lifting his daughter from hers. “She missed her nap today when I took her to story time at the library.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to put her down as soon as you got back?” Claire asked.

  “You did,” he confirmed. “But every time I put her in her crib, she started to fuss.”

  “Why don’t you give in to me whenever I fuss?” his wife wanted to know.

  He kissed her softly. “Are you saying I don’t?”

  “Not all the time,” she said, a small smile on her lips as they headed out of the dining room.

  “I guess they’ve worked things out,” Trey mused, stabbing his fork into the generous slab of pie his grandmother set in front of him.

  “I really think they have,” Melba confirmed. “There will still be bumps in the road—no relationship is ever without them—but over the past few months, they’ve proven that they are committed to one another and their family.”

  “If the kid doesn’t want ice cream, no one else gets ice cream?” Gene grumbled, frowning at his naked pie.

  “You don’t need ice cream,” his wife told him.

  “You didn’t need those new gloves you came home with when you were out Christmas shopping last week, but you bought them anyway.”

  Trey fought against a smile as he got up to get the ice cream. His grandparents’ bickering was as familiar to him as the boarding house. They were both strong-willed and stubborn but, even after almost sixty years of marriage, there was an obvious affection between them that warmed his heart.

  After they’d finished dessert, his grandmother asked, “So what are your plans for the evening?”

  “Do they still show movies at the high school on Fridays?” Trey had spent more than a few evenings in the gymnasium, hanging with his friends or snuggling up to a pretty girl beneath banners that declared, “Go Grizzlies!” and had some fond memories of movie nights at the high school.

  “Friday and Saturday nights now,” she told him.

  “Two movie nights a week?” he teased. “And people say there’s nothing to do in Rust Creek Falls.”

  His grandmother narrowed her gaze. “We might not have all the fancy shops and services like Thunder Canyon, but we’ve got everything we need.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t have implied that this town was lacking in any way—especially when two of my favorite people in the world live here.”

  She swatted him away with her tea towel. “Go on with you now. Take a shower, put on a nice shirt and get out of here.”

  Trey did as he was told, not only to please his grandmother but because it occurred to him that the high school was likely where Kayla and Natalie were headed.
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br />   Chapter Three

  Kayla gazed critically at her reflection in the mirror and sighed as she tugged her favorite Henley-style shirt over her head again and relegated it to the too-tight pile. The nine pounds she’d gained were wreaking havoc with her wardrobe.

  Of course, it didn’t help that most of the styles were slim-fitting and she was no longer slim. Not that she was fat or even visibly pregnant, but it was apparent that she’d put on some weight, and covering her body in oversize garments at least let her disguise the fact that the weight was all in her belly.

  She picked up the Henley again, pulled it on, then put on a burgundy-and-navy plaid shirt over the top. Deciding that would work, she fixed her ponytail, dabbed on some lip gloss and grabbed her keys.

  “Where are you going tonight?” her mother asked when Kayla came down the stairs.

  She’d mentioned her plans at dinner—when she’d asked her dad if she could take his truck into town—but her mother obviously hadn’t been paying attention. Ever since Ryan put a ring on Kristen’s finger, her mother had been daydreaming about the wedding.

  “I’m meeting Natalie at the high school,” she said again. “We’re going to see A Christmas Story tonight.”

  “Is it just the two of you going?” her mother pressed.

  “No, I’m sure there will be lots of other people there.”

  “Really, Kayla, I don’t know why you can’t just give a simple answer to a simple question,” Rita chided.

  “Sorry,” she said automatically. “And yes—it’s just me and Natalie tonight. We’re not sneaking out to meet boys behind the school.”

  “Your turn will come.”

  “My turn for what?” She was baffled by the uncharacteristically gentle tone as much as the words.

  “To meet somebody.”

  “I’m not worried about meeting somebody or not meeting somebody,” she assured her mother.

  “I had sisters, too,” Rita said. “I know it’s hard when exciting things are happening in their lives and not your own.”

  “I’m happy for Kristen, Mom. Genuinely and sincerely.”

 

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