Hunk for the Holidays (22 page)

Tossing his jacket to the kitchen table, Rory walked over and pulled the roll of paper towels off the dispenser. “Why?” he asked as he squatted down and tore off a couple sheets and handed them to her.

She took the towels and started cleaning up the vinegar. “Because she could seriously hurt herself. She’s been riding a two-wheeled bike for only a couple years.”

“No, I mean why did you break it off with Derek?”

It was a good question. One Amy had been asking herself since ending their engagement. Why would she break up with a man she’d dated for years? A man who for all practical purposes was a perfect match for her? The answer came when Rory reached out and covered her hand with his.

Derek might be her perfect match, but he didn’t make her insides tremble at just one touch. And he didn’t make her want to scrub one damned toilet. He filled all her requirements for a husband, just not the ones for
her
husband.

“Would you stop cleaning and talk to me?” Rory said.

His knee was no more than inches away from her, his breath warming the back of her neck. She ignored the feeling his closeness ignited and pulled her hand away so she could continue to scrub the floor. “We didn’t suit.”

“And it took you this long to figure that out?”

She glanced up. “You should talk. At least I didn’t marry Derek before I figured it out.”

Releasing his breath, Rory sat back on the floor and
leaned against the refrigerator. “I figured out I didn’t love Tess long before I married her.”

“So why did you marry her?”

“I tried to convince myself it was because she was pregnant. But the truth is that I moved to Chicago and married Tess because it was easier than staying at M & M and having you treat me as if I didn’t exist.”

Amy stopped scrubbing and turned to Rory. “Tess was pregnant?”

“No. She lied to me just like she lied to you.” He looked at her. “Except I had reason to believe her lie. Why did you believe her when she told you that you weren’t good enough for me?”

She sat back against the cupboard. “Maybe because I was only nineteen and I had already been rejected by my daughter’s father. At that point, I didn’t think very much of myself. I didn’t believe I could get what I wanted.”

“And what did you want?”

“I guess I wanted the dream.” She picked at the paper towel. “I wanted a knight in shining armor to come and sweep me off my feet. Someone who would pay the bills and fix a flat tire and the leaky faucet in the bathroom. Someone to hold Gabby and change her diapers when I was too exhausted. Someone to hold me and tell me everything was going to be all right.”

Rory rested his hands on his knees and stared down at the tile floor. “And what do you want now, Amy?”

It was a good question. One she had thought about all night. One she felt as if she’d figured out.

“I no longer want, or need, a knight in shining armor. I want a partner. A man who will stand beside me, not behind
or in front of me. A man who accepts my weaknesses and rejoices in my strengths. A man who is strong enough to be a husband and a loving father.”

She got up from the floor, threw away the paper towels, and put the trash can back beneath the sink. When she turned, Rory was on his feet. He seemed to fill the entire kitchen. Needing some space, she moved into the living room.

The town house Amy shared with Gabby wasn’t big or fancy, but she had worked hard to turn it into a home. Which was probably why she felt so happy when Rory glanced around the room and sent her a look of approval.

“This is nice,” he said. “How long have you lived here?”

“Almost three years.”

She wandered over to the window to make sure Gabby wasn’t riding the motorcycle down the street. She wasn’t. She still sat on it in the driveway, but now she was surrounded by all the neighborhood kids and a couple fathers.

“I’m sorry.” Rory moved up behind her. So close she could smell the clean, fresh scent of his cologne. So close she thought she could hear the beat of his heart. Or maybe it was hers that thumped wildly as he continued. “I should’ve gotten your permission before I bought the bike. I guess I just wanted to make this Christmas special for Gabby—and for you.” His hands settled on her waist as he stepped closer, and his mouth brushed the top of her head. “I want to be that man, Amy. The one who stands beside you. But I also want to be your knight in shining armor. The one who fixes your leaky faucets, teaches
Gabby the safe way to ride a dirt bike, and the one who holds you when you need holding.”

Rory turned her around. His green eyes were filled with something that had Amy’s stomach taking a nosedive.

“I know I’ve botched things badly, Amy. I always thought I was the levelheaded one of the bunch, but it turns out that I have just as much stubborn pride as the rest of my family. Pride that kept me from claiming you the moment I first set eyes on you. Pride that kept me from telling you how much I love you.” He touched her cheek with just the barest brush of his fingertips. “And I do love you, Amy Walker.” He leaned down and kissed her.

Unlike the greenhouse kiss, it wasn’t quick and desperate. This kiss was soft and sweet. He gently brushed her lips as if asking permission. She gave it by sliding her hands around his waist and pulling him closer. His fingers tunneled through her hair and cradled her head as he moved her away from the window and pressed her up against the wall. Desire flamed to life and sizzled through her veins, and she pressed closer as all the confusion of the last few days melted away. Suddenly everything became crystal clear.

Rory was right. No matter what had happened in the past, she belonged right here. Right here in his arms.

He pulled back from the kiss and rested his forehead on hers. “So I think this is the point where you tell me that you love me too. You do love me, don’t you, Amy?”

“Yes,” she said as she smoothed out the shoulders of his sweater. “And I have since you walked up to my desk and said, ‘Welcome to M & M Construction.’ It took me
five seconds to figure out you were the man I wanted. But it took me five years to figure out that I’m the woman for you.”

Rory kissed her again, this time with a lot more heat. When she was thoroughly dazed, he pulled back and held up a finger. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back. I forgot something in my jacket.” He headed for the kitchen and, a second later, returned with a small box that had Amy’s mouth dropping open.

While she stared in stunned disbelief, he got down on one knee and opened the box to reveal a beautiful square-cut diamond between two glittering emeralds the color of Rory’s eyes.

“Amy,” he said. “I’ve already wasted too much time, and I don’t want to waste a second more. Especially since there will never be another woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Marry me.”

Amy placed a hand over her mouth as tears dripped down her cheeks. “Oh, Rory.” Unfortunately, it only took a moment for reality to slip in. “I can’t.” When hurt entered his eyes, she tried to explain. “I love you. And if it was just up to me, I wouldn’t think twice about marrying you today if you wanted me to. But I have a daughter to think about. An impressionable daughter whom I’ve already put through one relationship and breakup. I can’t just jump into another one without consulting Gabby first.” She reached down and cupped his chin in her hand. “So if it’s okay with you, could we take things a little slow—”

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?”

Startled, Amy turned to see Gabby standing in the doorway of the living room with red cheeks and a baffled
look. Amy’s own cheeks flamed, and she tried to cover the ring with a hand while she stammered out an explanation.

Wouldn’t you know that her headstrong daughter would figure it out all on her own?

With a loud whoop, Gabby jumped up and punched the air. “This is the best Christmas ever! A dirt bike and a McPherson!”

Chapter Nineteen

The kitchen was warm. Too warm. Both ovens worked overtime as the McPherson women fussed with the last-minute preparations for the night’s big family potluck. The heated air carried with it the chaotic chatter of gossip along with a variety of scents—vanilla from the sugar cookies, spices from her mother’s spaghetti sauce, evergreen from the huge Christmas tree, and cinnamon from the candles that flickered on the mantle.

It was enough to give Cassie a sick stomach to go along with her splitting headache. A headache that was the result of finding out she’d been played for a fool. How could she have willingly jumped into bed with the biggest, most deceitful man in Denver?

Cassie rammed the knife back into the bowl of red frosting and scooped up a glob, which she promptly smeared all over the top of a Santa-shaped sugar cookie. The thought of
all the lies James had told her had her hand tightening on the knife.

Santa’s head snapped clean off.

“Shit.” She stared down at the decapitated Santa and the frosting that oozed between her fingers.

“Shit!” Chase, her eighteen-month-old nephew, yelled while beating a spoon on the top of his high chair. “Shit! Shi—”

Cassie quickly rammed Santa’s head in between his rosy little lips. “Have a cookie, sport.” She set the other half of the cookie down on the tray and licked her fingers.

“You shouldn’t give him cookies, Aunt Cassie.” Megan Anne sent her a reproachful look as she removed the cookie from her brother’s reach. Megan was the oldest of Jake’s brood and took her position quite seriously. “Mother doesn’t want us acquiring a taste for sugar.”

“Which is why you’ve eaten the last four I’ve broken,” Cassie said.

Megan glanced over at the women in the kitchen, then replaced the cookie on the tray. “I guess one won’t hurt.”

“That’s what I figured.” Cassie jerked up another cookie, but before she could behead it, one of the twins stood up in her chair and started yelling.

“Mommy!” Her three-year-old niece, Kelsey, waved a frosting-covered plastic knife dangerously close to Cassie’s left ear. “Aunt Cassie just broke-did another cookie! That makes eight cookies she broked!”

“Traitor,” Cassie whispered as she looked up at the horde of McPherson women who had stopped what they were doing to stare at her as if she’d grown horns. “So I
broke a few cookies.” She waved her hand over the cookie-filled table. “I don’t think they’ll be missed.”

“Cassandra,” her mother moved forward with a look of concern, “are you feeling okay?”

She wasn’t. She felt like hell, but she was bound and determined to work through it. “Of course I feel okay.” She brushed back a piece of hair. “Why?”

Her mother shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just that you don’t usually like to be in the kitchen. Especially if you have to help with cooking.”

“This isn’t exactly cooking, Mom.”

Her mother walked over and took off the oven mitt, then placed her hand on Cassie’s forehead. “Still, you feel hot to me. Mary Louise,” she called back over her shoulder, “go get Lisa.”

Her cousin Lisa was getting her pharmaceutical degree and had somehow become the resident doctor for all family gatherings. She might not know what was wrong with you, but she could tell you what to take to get rid of it.

“Don’t bother Lisa.” Cassie removed her mother’s hand and stood. “I’m fine, really. Just because I want to help out in the kitchen doesn’t mean I’m sick.”

“Yeah, it does,” one of her cousins piped up. “You’d rather be burned at the stake than cook one.”

“Boiled in oil rather than boil an egg,” another cousin chimed in.

“Roasted—”

“I get it!” Cassie yelled.

Everyone laughed as they went back to their jobs. Everyone except her mom.

Her mother could work for the CIA, interrogating spies. Those deep brown eyes had a way of staring right through a person, which was worse than any water torture. “So tell me about this new man you’ve been seeing.”

The last thing that Cassie wanted to do was tell her mother about James. It was one thing for Steve Mitchell to find out about your idiocy and another for your mother to find out.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she said. “He was just a guy I dated a few times.”

“Your brothers really like him.”

It figured. The guy they should hate the most, they liked. “Yeah, well, since I’m the person dating him, I’m the only one that counts. And I won’t be seeing him again.”

Those eyes turned soft and knowing right before she pulled Cassie into her arms. “When it’s right, baby girl, everything will just fall into place.”

Cassie believed her, which meant nothing was right because everything was out of place. Right now, all she wanted to do was tuck her nose against her mother’s neck and sob out her anger like she had when she didn’t make the varsity soccer team. Instead, she just rested there and breathed in the smell of vanilla and Joy perfume.

“I’m okay, Mom.”

“No, you’re not.” Her mother kissed the side of her head. “But, unfortunately, heartbreaks are something mothers can’t fix.”

“I’m not heartbroken,” she grumbled. How could a person be heartbroken over someone she’d known for only two days?

Her mother gave Cassie an extra squeeze before she
pulled back and smiled at her. “Why don’t you go into the game room and beat some of your uncles at pool? If you continue to frost sugar cookies, the kids are all going to have stomachaches.” When Cassie nodded, her mother gave her one last worried look before she went back to the kitchen.