Christmas With You (14 page)

Chapter 12

Santa screwed him over good.

No presents under the spindly Christmas tree Kip had erected in his living room to pacify the twins. No stocking full of candy canes and other sweet goodies—not even a damn piece of coal. And worst of all, no warm, sweet-smelling woman curled around him when he’d woken.

He’d stretched out in his empty bed and watched the first streams of daylight cast shimmering patterns on his floor. Was Carly staring at the lavender walls of her bedroom, wishing she was tucked up against him? Or was she already up, pumped to spend the day with her family?

Christmas was off to a crappy start.

Carly was somewhere other than at his side,
where
she should be
. He remained stuck at his parents’ house surrounded by shifty-eyed glances and awkward silences—except for Ruby and his nephews, whose squeals of excitement had probably caused him permanent hearing loss.

Kip slumped farther into the couch and feigned interest in Lucas’ Lego instructions. With another eardrum-puncturing yelp, the boy ran back to his twin and the chaotic mass of primary-colored blocks.

Vee, next to him, said, “The wind’ll change and freeze your face, grumpy-ass.”

“I’m not grumpy.” He followed the statement with a tooth-exposing smile. “I’m digesting the massive turkey we had for lunch.”

She snorted. “Blaming your foul mood on food…typical guy. Can’t you admit you’re missing her?”

“I’m not missing anything except my afternoon nap.” He stared straight ahead at the Christmas tree, now stripped of presents, but the fairy lights still twinkled since they were of endless fascination to Ruby.

“Uh-huh,” Vee said. “Well, before you settle down for a post-Christmas-lunch snooze, Mum and Dad want to see you outside.”

His mouth twisted. “How about I swap you the parental pep-talk for changing Ruby’s stinky nappies for the rest of your stay?”

“Nice try, Kipper.”

He stood with a sigh.

Vee laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t sell them short. When I told them I was giving up my career to have this baby, they ripped me a new one. But when Patrick bailed on me and Ruby, they got me through a dark time. They love you; we love you. And BTW, I like your new job much more than when you worked in the sheds”—she toasted him with her wine glass—“I sure as hell prefer what you produce.”

“Thanks.” Kip scrubbed his knuckles across Vee’s head and went to find his parents.

They sat under a picnic table umbrella, his mum rocking a pram, the dark-shaded cover keeping the afternoon sun off Ruby’s face.

“She asleep yet?” he asked quietly, taking a seat next to his dad.

“Almost.” She jiggled the handle and rolled it forward. Sleepy cooing noises came from inside. “But if I stop, it’ll be all on.”

Kip grunted and helped himself to a handful of roasted nuts on the table. The candy-canes painted on the little dish reminded him of the twins this morning when they remembered to check the garden. Twelve candy canes had grown from the magic jellybeans. He’d ignored the sliver of hurt piercing him that Carly hadn’t been there to see the boys’ excitement.

“We wanted to say we’re sorry, son.”

The apology nearly caused him to choke on a Brazil nut. He coughed and pounded his chest. James Sullivan didn’t apologize—ever.

Kip poured himself a glass of juice from the pitcher on the table and drained half. “I over-reacted, too,” he said. “And I’m sorry I upset you both, but I’m not changing my mind.”

His dad lifted a shoulder, with a quick turn down of his mouth. “You were right; we never took on board what you said when you left, we just jammed our heads in the sand and pretended you’d come around. We hoped milking fired your blood like me and your Granddad, but it doesn’t, so we’ll move to plan B—bring in a share milker to run things, and keep the farm as an investment…or C, sell it—depending on what you and the girls agree on.”

A mixture of relief and dread filled his gut. “If you sell the farm, what will you do?”

“Oh, I’ll find something. Your mum’s already been online checking out European cruises, and Bounty Bay has a top-notch golf course. Never had much time or energy before.” He leaned over and patted Kip’s shoulder. “The farm has served its purpose all these years, but it’s time for a fresh start—nothing you need feel bad about.”

“No guilt allowed,” Heather said. “We love you and support you, whatever choices you make. We want you to find your place in the world and be happy.”

The tightness building all day in his chest eased. Carly had been right; she’d seen through their intentions to the heart of the matter. He’d been so tangled in his own guilty feelings that instead of talking to his parents over the last two years, he’d chosen to run—a bit of sticking his head in the sand, himself.

“I am happy, Mum. I wake up every day…and not at 5:00 a.m.”—he shot a quick grin at his dad—“and I look forward to going into work and chatting with the locals.”

“They’ve certainly woven you into the fabric of their community, haven’t they?” His mum lifted the corner of the pram cover. With a satisfied nod, she dropped it back in place. “And then there’s Carly.”

Kip opened his mouth to interject, but she steamrolled on. “Yes, she’s another thing that’s none of our business, but since you’re in love with her, it makes her a teeny bit my business, after all.”

In love with—? Kip held up a finger. “Hold on a—Wait, I’m not…”

She raised an eyebrow, and his dad chuckled.

“First time I’ve seen our boy speechless since we found him wrestling with his pretty girl on the bar floor,” he said.

“Didn’t you know you were in love with her?” She made soft clicks with her tongue. “Ah…your father was the same. His mum had to point out I was the girl for him.” She sighed. “Sullivan men—so gorgeous but so slow on the uptake.”

Kip groaned and lowered his head into his hands. It sucked big time when your mother had to state the bloody obvious. Yeah, in the last ten days, he’d zoomed through admiring, respecting, lusting-after, and liking Carly, and had fallen in love with her. And the odds of ever falling out of love with her were equivalent to snow falling out of this perfect summer sky.

He looked up with another groan. His parents studied him with enormous grins, his mum nudging his dad in the ribs.

“Don’t smile,” Kip said. “I think I screwed up everything with her last night.”

His mum rolled her eyes. “You’d better think of a way to fix it, then. We’ve already paid the deposit on this place for the holidays next year.”

Kip’s jaw sagged. “You have?”

She chewed her bottom lip. “Is that okay? Once your dad and I realized you belonged here, we decided to get in quick. We’ve all had such a fantastic time.”

Kip waited for tension to wire through his shoulder blades at the thought of his family descending en masse again, but it never happened. “Sure. Next time, bring Rachel and Kristan, and I’ll hire tents for the backyard—the kids’ll have a blast camping.”

“Wonderful.” She beamed. “And there’s a perfect spot under the pohutukawa trees for a Christmas wedding—just saying.”

His dad coughed and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t scare the poor boy.”

“He’s not scared, are you?” His mother whipped an indignant gaze in Kip’s direction.

“Actually, Mum.” He stood. “I’m freaking terrified. What if she only wants me for you guys?”

Both parents gawped at him open-mouthed.

“Are you nuts?” his father asked.

Kip shoved his hands into his shorts pockets. “She really likes everyone, and she’s always wanted to be part of a family…” Okay, it did sound a little lame in the light of day.

“Oh, honey.” Heather shook her head. “We like her, too, and we’d love her to be part of our family. But trust me, Kip, no woman looks at a man the way she looks at you and secretly thinks, “
I can’t wait to snag this guy so I have my future in-laws around me 24/7
.”

James snickered. “Got that right.” Then he folded his arms and pinned Kip with a stare. “She’s the one, though, isn’t she?”

“Um.” He shot his mother a sideways glance. Maybe he was a little slow on the uptake. “How do you figure that out?”

“You think of it this way.” His dad grinned. “You’ve got another fifty or sixty Christmases left in your lifetime; who do you want to spend them with?”

The answer popped into his brain faster than a speeding bullet.

Carly.

Every Christmas, every New Years, every Valentine’s Day, every damn Saint Patrick's Day. He loved her, and if she was prepared to give him a chance—and he wouldn’t hesitate to use his bartender charms to talk her into it—he liked the odds of her one day loving him back.

“A morbidly romantic idea, darling. I’m impressed,” his mum said.

“We men might be slow to catch on, but Sullivans go after what they want. So go sort things out with your lady.”

As Kip walked away from the table, a lightness to his step he hadn’t had twenty minutes ago, he came up with a plan. A half-assed plan, at best, but it was a start toward showing Carly how much she meant to him.

***

Zoe rushed across Glenna Harland’s massive living room to where Carly curled into an armchair, engrossed in a game of chess with Ben. “Your phone’s ringing!” The girl shoved the phone into Carly’s hand, and she hit the answer button.

“Apologies for interrupting your Christmas Day, dear.” Mrs. Taylor’s voice squawked down the line, not a bit apologetic. “But you’d better come home. You’ve left all the lights burning, and you know how much power costs. I’d go down and switch them off myself, but my arthritis is playing up today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Carly frowned at her phone. “I’ll come down now.”

Hadn’t she turned the lights off this morning before West picked her up? Perhaps not. She’d had very little sleep the night before—tossing and turning while she tried to convince herself she wasn’t in love with Kip. The convincing part hadn’t worked well for her.

It’d been an hour since she’d last daydreamed about him. Well, closer to twenty minutes. Fine. Technically, three minutes, since Ben complimented her chess skills by saying she was on par with Kip.

Double-dammit.

“I’ve got to run home; I must’ve left the lights on,” she said.

Ben stretched out his arms, and Zoe grabbed his hand. “Can me and Jade go for another swim, Dad? Mama says she doesn’t want to because her hair looks like Medusa, so she said to ask you.
Pleeeeease
.”

Ben cut Carly a lazy, hooded glance. “Maybe we’ll walk over to Sunshine Bay, and you two can play with Logan and Lucas again. I’m sure Carly will join us afterward.”

Zoe switched her mega-watt smile to Carly. “Awesome. I’ll go tell Jade.”

“What have West and Del been saying?” she said, once Zoe skipped from the room.

Ben edged around the coffee table. “Didn’t need to tell me anything. It’s all over your face when I mention Kip’s name, plus”—he pointed a finger— “remember the kids’ party? Nothing wrong with my ears.”

“Didn’t think I was that obvious.”

“All day, you’ve looked like a kid who got an empty box instead of an X-Box on Christmas morning. So go turn off your lights and meet us at the beach. Kip will be glad to see you.” Ben sauntered off.

She wasn’t a hundred percent certain about that, but decided to think about it on the way to her place.

Fifteen minutes later, Carly walked through Mrs. Taylor’s gate and along the path. Funnily enough, there were lights on in her little house…colored, twinkling, fairy ones strung across the windows.

What the…

Her heartbeat quickened with her footsteps, then leaped into a wild gallop at her open front door. Freaking hell—somebody was in her house! Somebody who’d sneaked past Mrs. Taylor…Carly paused, narrowing her eyes.

No one got past Mrs. Taylor.

So, it must be someone who hadn’t quite got the idea that burglarizing meant
taking
stuff, not adding stuff like sparkly lights.

She edged closer to the open door.

Someone inside sang about
decking the halls
in a smooth baritone. She eased her head around the corner. The someone displayed a perfect ass encased in khaki shorts, and a tight red tee shirt stretched across broad shoulders as he added a star to the top of a huge, decorated Christmas tree—a tree that hadn’t been there this morning.

“Kip?”

Kip jumped, sending the star whizzing across the room and bouncing off her couch.

He spun around, his face a comical snapshot of shock with a side-dish of guilt. “Hey! You’re, um, back early.”

She leaned against the doorframe. “Mrs. Taylor called to say lights were on in my house.”

His eyes narrowed. “She didn’t stick to the plan.”

“Plan?”

“She spotted me lugging the tree through her gate. I told her what I was up to, but she wasn’t meant to call until I’d finished.” He raked a hand through his hair and gave her a sheepish smile.