Authors: Tina Leonard
Instead of climbing into the truck, she stopped, enjoying the proximity to him. “If it makes you feel better, I've had some pretty devilish thoughts myself.”
He made a low, nearly inaudible sound in his throat, and his gaze dropped to her mouth.
Heat spiraled through her. When they'd said their goodbyes Sunday night, she'd kissed him for all she was worth, thinking it was their only opportunity. But here he was now, within easy reach.
And what is your plan, exactly? To throw yourself at him in the parking lot of a Christmas tree farm?
With a sigh, she got into the cab. As he started the truck, she finished her hot chocolate. The cocoa was sweet and rich and warm and absolutely no substitute for Daniel's kisses.
* * *
A
S
SHE
WALKED
between the rows of Christmas trees, the air fragrant with pine and crisp with cold, Nicole was grateful for the coat Daniel had loaned her. Of course, it swallowed her whole. She often wore high heels at work to make herself more imposing, but the truth was, she wasn't a very big person.
Give it a few months. You will be.
She actually looked forward to being visibly pregnant; it would make her condition feel more like impending motherhood and not just an erratic case of stomach flu. But, knowing that the physical changes were coming, she appreciated Daniel's admiring gazes even more.
“Hey,” he called from around the other side of a Virginia pine, “you're doing it again! Didn't I tell you it makes me uneasy when you get too quiet?”
She nibbled at her bottom lip, not wanting to share that she'd been thinking about all the weight she was going to gain. Instead, she reached out and brushed a hand over the short, twisted pine needles. “We're working to find me a tree, but what about you? Do you already have one at your house?”
“Nah. I have a wreath I put on the door, but I don't usually bother doing much else. Julieta will find a massive tree, and everyone will go over to the ranch to help decorate it. That's where we have Christmas morning, at the Roughneck. Probably the only reason she and Brock haven't taken Alex to find a tree yet this year is because Julieta's been preoccupied helping Carly with wedding plans.”
“Well, I love Christmas trees,” Nicole said. “During December, I turn on the lights first thing in the morning, so I can enjoy them with my coffee. And I like having them on in the evening. Makes my place less...” She stopped when she realized the adjective she'd been about to use was
lonely.
She didn't want to make herself sound pathetic. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, you might be surprised at what a little Christmas cheer can do for your home.”
“It doesn't feel like cheer to me,” he said softly. “Not without my mom around.”
Her heart constricted in sympathy, and she regretted pushing him to get a tree.
Judging by his faraway expression, he was remembering holidays past. “Mom really got into Christmas. Generally speaking, she was a pretty no-nonsense person. Weathering my father's trial couldn't have been easy for her, but she was tough. And she was tough on me and Jacob, too, grounding us if we got busted for fighting after kids teased us about having a dad who was a crook. She insisted bad behavior was no excuse for more bad behavior. When she married Brock, she had to be firm to run a house with six kids. But at Christmas...
“She did holiday baking and let us eat way more sweets than any other time of the year, including Halloween. Every time she came home from shopping, she'd have a twinkle in her eye and it was obvious she'd found a new gift for one of us.” He shook his head abruptly, as if he could rid himself of the memories like a dog shaking off water. “What about you? Did you get to spend many Christmases with your real mother?”
“No. Holidays are a prime time for junkiesâway too many excuses to party. They justify that they're being social, that they'll quit after the New Year. December memories of my mother mostly involve her being strung out.”
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “I don't mind.” Specifically, she didn't mind because it was him. She found herself wanting to share more with Daniel than she did with most people. Perhaps because his own childhood hadn't been textbook “normal” either. Or, perhaps because, even after such a short time, he meant something to her.
“Besides,” she added, briefly raising a hand to her stomach, “I have lots of Christmases ahead of me. My babies and I will make new memories.”
“Hey!” He grinned proudly. “You said babies, plural, without all the blood draining from your face. That's significant progress.”
Maybe not
significant,
but it was a start. She was making progress on the tree hunt, as well. By the time they reached the last row, she'd narrowed her choices to a couple of small but robust pines. Once she made her decision, a man in overalls and gloves helped Daniel secure the tree in the back of the truck while she paid for the tree and an accompanying stand.
As they drove away from the lot, Nicole felt a little pang of disappointment that their errand had ended. Along with a not-so-little pang of hunger. She'd missed lunch. “Daniel, would you have dinner with me? My treat. I want to thank you for going to so much trouble for me today.”
“If I agree to have dinner with you, it will be because I enjoy your company,” he said. “No other reason.”
“Is that a yes, then?”
He nodded. “But I'm not letting you pick up the bill.” His lips quirked in a sideways smile. “After all, you've got at least two college educations to save up for.”
* * *
T
HE
SOUND
OF
Nicole's laughter filled the cab like music. Daniel found himself exaggerating his funnier adolescent exploits so that he could bask in her amusement on the drive from the restaurant back to the medical compound where they'd left her rental car. He told her about the time during his teen years when he was showing off for one of Savannah's cute friends and accidentally drove the tractor into a tree. Then there was the evening he'd taken his pretty chemistry partner to the barn after studying, supposedly to show her his favorite horse but really in hopes of making out.
Nicole smirked. “Seems like Pretty Girls is the recurring theme in your tales. So what happened when you took her to your barn of iniquity? Because, if the rest of the story is, âWe made out, the end,' I'm going to be seriously disappointed in your narrative skills.”
“First, let me remind you, I was fourteen. It's an awkward age for anyone.”
“Right, right. I'm sure you've become Mr. Suave in the years since. Get to the good part,” she goaded.
“We were almost to the barn, and it was getting dark. Conversation was going well, and I noticed she'd started walking closer and closer to me. In the distance, something howled. Quite possibly a dog reacting to sirens we couldn't hear, but I hinted that it was a coyote.”
“Thus scaring her even closer to the big, strong fourteen-year-old?”
“I had decided the time had come to put my arm around her when suddenly an owlâa really big-ass owlâcame swooping down in front of us to grab a field mouse or something. I was startled enough to jump. Between being startled and trying to put my arm around her, I...ended up knocking her over. And I may have shrieked. A very manly shriek, though.”
Nicole giggled. “So, no make-out session at the barn?”
“She stomped back to the house and later got a new lab partner. I think they ended up going to senior prom together. Meanwhile, I've harbored deep resentment toward owls ever since. If Jacob ever mentions my being âafraid' of them, it's a vicious lie. I just blame them for breaking my fourteen-year-old heart.”
“The entire owl species?” she teased. “Man, you hold a grudge.”
“What about you?” he asked.
“You mean do I hold grudges?”
“No.” He knew better than that from the wistful way she spoke about her mother. Nicole had been willing to forgive the addict who'd screwed up her childhood. And she believed Adele deserved a second chance, too. Nicole was as kindhearted as she was beautiful. “I meant, do you have any mortifying adolescent fiascos you'd like to share?”
“Oh, look, we've reached our destination. What a shame!”
Since the doctors' offices in the complex all closed by 5:00 p.m., not much expense had been put into parking lights. The poles at the far ends of the empty lot provided only minimal illumination.
She eyed the shadowed crevices between buildings. “This place is creepy at night. But on the plus side, you can see a lot of stars.”
“This is nothing,” he scoffed. When you'd been raised on a ranch, it was hard to be impressed by a city sky. “You should check out the view from my back porch.” It was a casual statement, but as soon as he heard it aloud, he realized how much he wanted Nicole to see that view. He wanted her to come to his house, wanted more time alone with her.
Bad idea.
In a couple of weeks, they were each headed their separate ways to very different lives. With the pregnancy, she was already on an emotional roller coaster and didn't need him adding to it. Still, he wouldn't have traded this evening for anything.
When he opened his door, she looked surprised. “You parked right next to my car. I probably don't need the safety escort.” But he thought she sounded pleased, anyway.
They'd already decided that from here he would follow her to the apartment so he could help her get the Christmas tree in the building. It wasn't quite a five-footer. Even with his recovering shoulder, he could manage the weight, and he had no intention of letting a pregnant woman carry it.
“I'll call Adele on the way,” Nicole said, “so we don't startle her when we come in.”
“Do you think she's worried about you?” he asked, knowing she'd left the older woman a vague message about “needing some personal time” this afternoon. She hadn't explained why.
Nicole leaned against her car. “Probably. When she was sick, I worried about her 24/7. That's what family does.”
Exactly. And the bigger the family, the bigger the anxieties. In the past year alone, he'd received calls that Lizzie and Brock were in the hospital and that little Cody had been taken to the E.R. Between his father going to jail and his mother dying, his childhood had taught him that bad things happen. The more people you cared about, the more risks you took of watching them suffer.
It hadn't cost him anything to look after Nicole this afternoon because she wasn't a permanent fixture in his life. Months from now when she went into labor, he wouldn't have to drive her to the dreaded hospital, wouldn't have to stress over every contraction and complication. When he'd told her he thought she could manage twins, he hadn't been lying. She seemed to have the grit and resilience for it. But parenting was an endless source of fear. Personally, he wanted no part of that.
Nicole's smooth palm against his cheek jolted him from his reverie. “Now who's the one getting quiet?” she murmured. “You look deep in thought.”
He tried to joke away his encroaching melancholy. “Nah. My thoughts stay in the shallow end. I was just taking a moment to savor a pretty night with a pretty girl. Recurring theme, remember?” Three years after the owl incident, he'd lost his virginity to a college freshman and lost any lingering shyness around women. But a look from Nicole had the power to jumble his thoughts and send his pulse galloping. “I had a good time tonight.”
“Me, too. After everything you've done for me today, Lord knows I shouldn't ask you for anything else. I do have a request, though, while we're here alone.” Her hand dropped to his shoulder. He wasn't sure which he enjoyed more, the physical contact between them or the husky note of desire in her voice. “Would you...”
Could he really see a blush stain her cheeks in the dark, or was he imagining it? His heart thudded against his ribs. He thought he knew what she wanted, but he craved the words.
“Kiss me,” she said.
Yes.
But despite every instinct in his body wanting to do exactly that, he didn't. Not yet. “Nicole, you know I'm attracted to you. But you're going back to San Antonio to a life of raising twins. And I have a plane ticket to Colorado the day after Christmas.” His friend Bodie had set up the interview and offered to show him around town.
“I only asked for a kiss, cowboy. I didn't suggest we get betrothed.” She huffed out an exasperated sigh as her arm fell to her side. “You're rightâpretty soon, I
will
be raising twins. I can't wait to meet them both. But until then, while my life is still my own, doesn't that make this the perfect time to indulge in a few selfish temptations?”
Her explanation made total sense. But he recalled her sobs earlier in the day. He didn't want to take advantage of an emotionally fragile state of mind.
“I shouldn't have said anything.” She backed away, opening her car door. “Please forget I did.”
“Wait. Nicole, youâ”
Her bright smile was patently fake. “See you at the apartment.” Then she was shooing him aside so she could shut her door.
Dumbass.
Since she'd been at the ranch, he'd thought about kissing her, touching her, at least a hundred times. So why had he turned down something he wanted so much? Worse, he'd embarrassed her in the process.
Maybe he hadn't gotten any better with women since he was fourteen, after all.
* * *
T
HE
C
HRISTMAS
TREE
was tightly bound in netting and wire, which simplified getting it into the lobby. Daniel carried it on his left side, primarily using his injured right arm to stabilize it. Nicole had gone ahead of him to prop open the door. He tried to gauge whether she was still irritated about what had happened in the parking lot.