A Christmas Miracle for Daisy (Taming of the Sheenans Book 5) (26 page)

“You’ve always been my girl.”

She took his hand, kissing his palm. “You mean your Girl Friday.”

“I’m not your boss.”

“You are most definitely my boss. And I am your subordinate. Every time you issue a directive, I jump.”

“Jump? Ha! You barely budge,” he countered, leaning into the car to kiss her slowly, thoroughly, before lifting his head to look her in the eye. “But thank you. You just gave me an idea.”

*

After dropping Whitney
off at Bramble House, Cormac returned to the hotel and took the elevator up to his room, but his thoughts were still focused on Whitney and their conversation at the lake.

It was the first real conversation they’d had in years. It wasn’t a great conversation, but it was a start. And they had to start somewhere. He needed to fix this with her. It wouldn’t be easy, though. He wasn’t comfortable with words. He wasn’t always sure how to express himself. They’d communicated before by making love and their physical connection had been intense, but they needed to learn how to handle conflict. They needed to learn how to be a true team.

He wanted to marry her. He wanted to raise Daisy with her and grow old with her. But they wouldn’t have a future if they didn’t learn how to talk, and disagree, and make up again.

It was his fault, too. He wasn’t good at compromise. He’d always smashed opposition but that wasn’t the way to handle family. He didn’t ever want to smash Daisy. He certainly didn’t want to smash Whitney, either. He loved her. He did.

Yet today she’d called herself his subordinate.

It was laughable.

When had Whitney ever been his subordinate in anything? He might be the founder, CEO, and President of Inc, but she knew what made Sheenan Media succeed and she’d been instrumental in turning the flailing magazines he purchased around. She’d been involved at every step, overhauling the magazine content, design and advertising base.
Montana Living
,
Wyoming Living
,
Colorado Living
,
Big Sky Design
…those were hers, and the circulation and subscribers were at an all-time high, along with new, vigorous growth in the digital editions, and the executive team knew those successes were hers, too.

But she mentioned the business relationship several times, and she had a point. It was hard to focus on building a personal relationship when there was so much emphasis on the professional.

Maybe it was time she was off the payroll.

Maybe it was time they started a brand new relationship, for the new year. For a new future.

He wanted that future, too. He wanted a future with Whitney…not behind him, not propping him up, supporting him, but a future with her at his side. His true partner. His equal. His mate.

*

For the next
week Whitney worked practically night and day at the house on Copper Mountain Lane getting it ready for Cormac and Daisy to move in before Christmas. She wanted to see them in the house by the 22
^nd
but foul weather and the flu that had hit Heath’s crew made even the 24
^th
look like a miracle.

But she believed in miracles. She also believed in hard work and Whitney poured herself into turning the house into a home for the two people she loved most in the world.

It was impossible to work at the house and not think of Cormac, though.

Kissing him had stirred her emotions, waking dormant feelings that now refused to be silenced.

The problem with feeling was that it made her aware of the good stuff, and the bad.

She’d loved him so much and he’d hurt her so badly.

She’d been blindsided by his decisions in the past. Cormac was not, nor had ever been, a team player. He did what was best for him and she worried that his interest in her now was simply because she was available, and convenient.

It was terrible to think of oneself as fast food or a snack, but that’s how she felt Cormac viewed her.

Entertainment. But not permanent.

And the idea of getting close again, only to be tossed away, kept her from daydreaming about happy ever afters. With Cormac there would be no happy ever afters. Cormac was business, and nothing more.

*

It’d been six
days since he’d dropped Whitney off at Bramble House and he hadn’t seen her since. At the beginning of the week, Whitney was spending all her time in Paradise Valley working on his house, and then on Wednesday he flew back to Los Angeles for another three days of meetings.

In LA, Hartag put all their cards on the table. They needed to sell the company. They wanted to sell to Sheenan, Inc. They wanted to make it happen before the New Year. All Cormac had to do was make a reasonable offer.

Cormac leaned his airplane seat back and closed his eyes.

At any other time, in any other circumstance, he would have made an offer. He’d always been so focused on growing the company, adding value with the right partners and strategic investments, and Hartag would be both. But it meant adding more to his life and in this case it felt like more stress.

More trips to California and New York.

More meetings and conference calls and late nights poring over sales figures and reports.

If he had to be up late at night, he didn’t want to sit in front of his computer. He wanted to be with Whitney. He wanted to watch the news with her and talk to her and make love to her. He wanted to have breakfast with his family and not in an airplane’s first class cabin.

He wanted more of what he’d done these past few weeks…more movies and pizza, more walks down Main Street, more sledding and ice skating and getting Daisy up on skis this winter.

He’d been driven for so much of his life, consumed with controlling his destiny, but Daisy had changed him. She’d opened his mind and his heart and he wanted less for himself, and more for her.

And more for Whitney, too.

He loved Whitney. He’d always loved Whitney but his love had been selfish and immature. He was a different man now. Older, settled, more grounded, as well as realistic. But he was still far from perfect. Patience wasn’t his strong suit. He had to work at being playful and struggled with a sense of shame.

He’d been raised to view emotions as a weakness. To need someone—to seek love and affection—had been a character flaw.

He didn’t even understand how hard he was, and how damaged he was, until he’d broken Whitney’s heart, and then he’d been too ashamed to reach out and try to make amends. How could he ask for her forgiveness? He was a man who wasn’t supposed to need anything, or anyone, much less a woman.

Yet looking at his brothers, seeing how they had all found a partner, and acceptance, he craved that, too.

If they could be happy…if they could make it work…why couldn’t he?

Cormac wasn’t innocent like Daisy. He knew there was no such thing as miracles and magic—those were but stories told to children. And yet that Friday night as he returned to Montana from Southern California, he really wished he could be a boy again, free to trust, and hope…

And believe.

*

Whitney was in
Cormac and Daisy’s hotel suite waiting for his return. Daisy had fallen asleep a half hour ago and Whitney killed time by watching the TV in the living room, the sound down low.

Cormac had texted her when he landed at the Bozeman airport letting her know he was on the ground and would soon be on the way. She was expecting him any minute now. She was looking forward to seeing him, and yet dreading it, at the same time.

It was almost impossible to see him without wanting more. It was a bittersweet trick of fate to have tied them together through work, and then Daisy.

She heard the door unlock and then he was there, setting down his suitcase, taking off his coat. “How is she?” he asked.

“Wonderful, although she’s very concerned about Comet and Cupid. They got into a fight and now all the reindeer are in an uproar, taking sides.”

“As reindeer do,” he answered dryly. “I suppose Kris is filling her head with these stories.”

“She adores him.”

“And what will she think when she doesn’t get her Christmas wish on Christmas morning, because none of us know what that wish is?”

“Kris said he’s working on it.”

“And in the event that he’s taking the first bus out of town on the 24
^th
, what do we need to do to make sure Daisy’s not disappointed?”

“Get her another fairy costume?”

“I’m serious. He’s built this Christmas up so much I don’t know how the reality of Christmas morning can even come close to what she’s imagining.”

“I’ve thought about that,” she admitted. “And I’m hoping that come Christmas morning she is delighted by the gifts in her stocking and under the tree. Speaking of gifts, I have bought a few things for her and will wrap them and put them under your tree at the house.”

“I don’t have a tree.”

“You do now.”

*

It took another
four long days but the construction and the painting and the unpacking was done. The decorations were up. The tree had lights and ornaments and gifts underneath. Fat ivory candles were on the mantel with a half dozen hand-carved wooden angels. A rustic nativity scene was on the dining room sideboard. And last but not least, two knit stockings hung from the handsome mantel, all ready for Christmas Eve.