One Christmas Knight (5 page)

In a few weeks, Damon was leaving the Point, and not simply to the next town or next state. He was settling all the way across the country. If anything serious started up to tonight, there was only one way it could end. And that wasn’t ‘happily ever after’.

A heartbeat before his mouth touched hers, Emma dropped her head, turned toward the door.

He hesitated before joining her in the hallway. She left the door open a crack so that a wedge of light fell on the floor between them both. When Emma finally lifted her gaze to meet his, the lidded intensity in his eyes left her in no doubt. He wanted her.

But for how long?

Then his chin went up and a comprehending smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Try to get a good night’s sleep,” he said, before pressing a kiss on her brow and quietly letting himself out.

Emma stood there thinking for a few more moments before finally going back into the bedroom.

Shelley hadn’t moved. Not one bit. Emma put a palm near that button nose. Still breathing.

Of course, she was.

Crossing to the highboy, she pulled out a drawer and found a garment with its price tag still in place.

She’d bought the negligee on a whim. It had lain in the same spot for months, white and sheer and alone. She lifted the slip out and brought it to her cheek, closed her eyes. She didn’t want a fling. She wanted more…a partner.

A happily ever after.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it smells so…” Emma drew in a deep breath. “So
Christmassy
.”

Damon had arrived five minutes earlier. After downing a quick cup of coffee, he’d charged outside to his car again. He’d come back with this perfect Yuletide surprise.

“When I was a kid,” he said, dragging in a seven-foot tree, “my brothers and I would go with Dad to pick out the perfect fir. One year we were too late. All the good ones were gone. So, we bought this spindly excuse of a thing and piled it so full of decorations, it literally snapped in two.”

She laughed but quickly sobered. “I don’t have any decorations.” Zip, other than the pint-sized tree on the mantle.

He put a finger to his nose, St. Nick style. “Got it covered.”

He went outside again and this time returned with a giant box filled with tinsel and all kinds of baubles and bells. After Emma propped Emma up in a lounge chair, making sure she was comfortable and had a good view, he handed her some tinsel and they got to work.

“What was your dad like?” Emma asked, as she crossed under his stream of tinsel and he crossed over hers.

“Solid. Thoughtful. Kind. Strong in a way all men ought to be. This one night, my dad, an older brother and I were coming back from a ballgame when we came across two teenage boys belting up a smaller one. Dad busted up the fight, made sure the kid was okay. When one of the bad asses came at him with a broken bottle, Dad didn’t flinch. He always knew exactly what to do…calm and quick. Mom was more a firecracker. A bit like you.”

“I wasn’t always a firecracker.”

He handed over two silver bells. “You don’t need to apologize for speaking your mind.”

“It wasn’t an apology.”

He grinned like she’d just agreed with him.

The baby was quiet, amused, the whole time they trimmed the tree. Finally, Emma stepped back to admire their work. The tree sparkled and twinkled and made her want to dance around its branches, a little girl again. But she’d forgotten one thing.

She went to her briefcase and found the card that had kicked all this off. She found a branch dead center and placed the card between the tinsel.

Damon’s dreamy voice was at her ear. “We make a good team, don’t you think?”

Filled with emotion, Emma nodded.
Really good
.

“We had a tradition in our house,” he said, digging out a packaged box. “Bon bons. Whoever won the most got to hang the star.”

After unwrapping the box, he offered one end of a giant bon bon. They pulled, it snapped, and ignited powder scent filled the air.

Emma waved her end at Shelley. “Look, baby. I won!”

Enjoying the show, Shelley kicked her feet and then sucked her fist while Damon revealed a big gold star.

Taking the star, Emma checked out the height of the tree and looked around. “I need a chair.”

“I have a better idea.”

Damon placed sturdy hands around her waist and effortlessly lifted her high above the ground. Feeling as if she had wings, Emma leaned in and slotted the ornament in place. She patted the hands gripping her ribs.

“Mission accomplished,” she said.

As he lowered her down, he angled her around as well, until she her front faced his and their eyes were level. Her socked toes wiggled mid-air and her heartbeat skipped while he held her there, suspended. Grinning, she looped her arms around his neck.

“The star’s hung,” she said “You can let me go now.”

“But I don’t want to let you go. In fact, I vote we start another tradition.”

His body was so hard pressed against hers. With his arms firmly lashed around her back now, Emma felt as if her feet might
never
touch the ground.

“So, what’s this new tradition?” she asked.

“Whoever got to hang the star has to kiss the one who missed out.”

She made a point of studying the ground. “I don’t appear to have a choice.”

His expression intensified.

“Em, you have all the choices in the world.”

His tone…those words…

Carefully, deliberately, she filed both sets of fingers up the back of his hair then met her lips with his.

The next day, Shelley didn’t want to finish her bottle. She looked drowsy but wouldn’t settle.

When Damon arrived around eight in the morning, Emma let him know before he’d even come in off the porch. Other than a flash in the depths of his eyes, his expression remained neutral. Calm. She hung his coat as he made a beeline to see the baby.

“Hey, Shell-Bell,” he said, hovering over her where she lay on the bed. “How you feeling today?”

The baby blinked slowly then pulled the most adorable pained face and gave a whimper that made Emma’s stomach turn. If she had just one wish, she’d make certain no child suffered. Upset tummies, ear ache, viruses…they would all be banished for good.

“There’s no rash,” she said.

“Let’s check her out anyway.”

Five minutes later, Damon was finished his examination. “Temperature’s a little high again.”

Emma lifted the swaddled baby into her arms. “I shouldn’t have taken her outside yesterday.”

“Ten minutes in the middle of the day…the fresh air would’ve done her good.”

“Are you sure?” Emma shook herself. “Of course you’re sure.” She took a breath, got a grip. “I’m doing it again.” Getting wound up.

He ran a gentle finger around Shelley’s cheek and asked Emma, “Have you heard from Krystal?”

“Not today. Not yet.” A chill ran up Emma’s spine. It was early yet, but she was beginning to worry. “Krystal gets distracted. Caught up in things. We’re different like that. I have no desire to jump out of planes or swim with sharks or―”

“Leave your baby to play make-up with the ex?”

Emma couldn’t argue. She’d thought the same thing. “I can’t help wondering what kind of father this guy will make.” Emma studied every line of her beautiful niece’s flushed face. “Shelley deserves a good life.”

“A
happy
and safe life.”

A sharp rap on the door made Emma jump. Damon looked at her as if she’d turned white. And, in that instant, she did feel faint. She wasn’t sure why, but that knock reminded her of the day police had knocked on their door. The day of the accident.

“Want me to get it?” he asked.

She pushed back her shoulders. “We’ll both go.”

When Damon opened the front door, Krystal stood on the porch, shoulders hunched in her white parka, a guilty half-grin on her face. Her focus instantly dropped to Shelley.

“How’s my baby?” she asked, stepping forward and scooping the infant out of Emma’s arms.

It wasn’t as if Emma had held the baby twenty-four-seven, but now it was as if a piece of her had been torn away. Emma looked on as Kyrstal rubbed her nose against the baby’s.

Had she told the father? How had he taken the news?

Emma stepped aside. “Come in out of the cold. Shelley has a temperature.”

Krystal’s gaze snapped up. “You said she was over that.”

Damon introduced himself. “I’m Damon Knight.”

“Damon’s a doctor,” Emma said. “The one who made the house call.”

Krystal’s questioning gaze cleared before she frowned again. She looked between the two of them, like Judd had the other day. “Are you two a
thing
?” she asked.

Sudden anger flared in Emma chest. Damon wasn’t exactly hers to steal away, but the idea that Krystal thought he
might
be brought her claws out. Not that Damon would be any part of it. As far as morals went, he and Grant were worlds apart.

Krystal threw a glance back over her shoulder. “I, uh, have someone with me.”

Emma spotted a man dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket shivering on the driveway. He sent a salute and sauntered up to join them.

“Hey. I’m Rick Lowe,” his shoulders bobbed up and down, “the, ah,
dad
.”

When Rick gazed down at the baby, Krystal lifted her higher. “Wanna hold?”

The man looked sceptical. “Do I need to wash my hands or something?”

“I don’t know,” Damon replied. “Do you?”

Rick took Shelley and smiled down, genuine wonder lighting his expression. His sparse unshaven whiskers wiggled as he made all sorts of ‘baby’ faces.

“When Krys told me I was a father,” he said as they moved inside, “I couldn’t believe it. It’s not something you hear every day.”

Damon made a point. “Abstinence has its benefits.”

“You mean no sex?” Rick coughed out a laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“Do you have family nearby?” Emma asked.

“Mom’s dead. Dad’s…uh, yeah. Don’t know anymore. Got a brother. He should be out this fall.” He dropped his head close and made a baby noise while he rocked her a little too hard. Emma had to clench her fists to stop from whipping Shelley right out of his arms.

“I was angry at first,” Rick said. “I felt tricked, you know. Or cornered or something. But the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of a family. I always wanted a kid. A boy.” Looking at Shelley, his smile spread. “But a girl’s good, too.”

“You’ll make a great dad,” Kyrstal said, and Emma couldn’t help but compare the two men in the room. Appearances weren’t everything. Education didn’t necessarily count. Everyone deserved a decent chance. Only she knew which man would be more likely to take out
Dad of the Year
.

“So, you’re looking forward to family life?” she asked.

“Sure.” Rick snorted―a laugh. “Who doesn’t like meals cooked when they get home from a hard day fitting tires.” He rocked the baby again but then his smile faded. “Can’t say she looks like me though.”

“Thanks, Em, for looking after her.” Krystal leaned her head on Rick’s shoulder. “I missed her so much.”

“Better get her stuff, Kryssie.” Rick was still scrutinizing the baby for possible Lowe features. “I’ll carry her out.”

Emma’s stomach pitched and she stepped forward. “You don’t have to go yet.”

“It’s an hour’s drive back,” Rick said, already heading for the door. Then he stopped and made a statement like it was a deal breaker. “I don’t do diapers.”

“What about Christmas Day?” Emma asked Krys. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t bring it up but she had a right to know, didn’t she?

Rick looked confused. “When’s that again?”

“Tomorrow,” Damon said.

Krystal spoke to the baby, “What do you want Santa to bring you, Sweet-pea?”

Rick nuzzled Krystal’s hair. “I know what her daddy wants.”

While Emma wanted to gag, Damon siphoned in a deep breath, blew it steadily out.

Emma spoke up again. She felt as if a rope were slipping through her hands, wearing at the flesh. “I don’t think you ought to take the baby until her temp is down.”

Krystal narrowed her eyes. “You said she’d be fine.”

“No one likes to travel if they’re feeling unwell.”

“Will she cry?” Rick asked.

“That’s always possible,” Damon replied.

“You sit in the back with the baby seat,” Rick said to Krys. Heading for the door, he threw a comment over his shoulder. “We’ll be seeing you again. We’re family now.”

Krystal hesitated at the door. “Emma, I really owe you.”

“I loved having her. If you ever need a sitter…anytime at all…” She swallowed, went on. “Call when you get home safely, okay?”

Krystal blinked like she was holding back a flood of tears, maybe thinking of their parents, too, and then followed Rick to the car.

As they drove away, Emma held back her own tears while Damon put an arm around her, rubbed her shoulder.

“If you want to cry,” he said, “that’s okay. I could cry myself.”

Emma felt as if she was sinking into an abyss. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“Afraid not. It’s your sister’s choice.”

“I always forgave her mistakes. That’s what family do. But, I swear, if anything happens to that little girl…”

He tugged her close until she folded in against his chest, her cheek pressed to his sweater, her heart pounding against her ribs.

“I can’t thank you enough for these past days,” she said.

“I wanted to be here.”

“I know. I’m just grateful…” She shut her stinging eyes tight, tried to be positive. But she felt hollow inside. Empty. Somehow dead.

“Damon, I think I need to be alone for a while.”

He dropped a soft kiss on her crown, rubbed her back. “You don’t have to be alone. I can stay.”

Her lips pursed. “At least until tomorrow.”

He placed a knuckle under her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his.

“Why don’t you come with me to Hawaii?”

Emma slumped. If she could, she’d take back that earlier barb. Damon was inviting her to join him and his family for Christmas. Not a small deal. But…

“I need to stay here in case Krystal needs me.”

“In case
Shelley
needs you, you mean.”

“Yes.” She pulled away, determined. “In case Shelley needs me.”

He hesitated before saying, “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Because someone I care about might not come back?”

She was angry again. Upset. It hurt even more that he avoided her point. She didn’t know when or if she would see Kyrstal and Shelley again. What was different about Damon leaving for L.A.?

A pulse beat in the side of his jaw before, finally, he nodded. “You’re right. It’s best you stay here.”

“And it’s best that you go.”

“If you need me―”

She went inside, shut the door. Minutes later, when his vehicle’s engine started up and he drove away, Emma moved to the Christmas tree. Standing before that star, she put her head in her hands and cried.
 

That night when Emma drove to Damon address, no lights were on in the house.

Well, what did she expect? That he’d be here, twiddling his thumbs, holding his breath waiting for her to drop by. He had probably finished packing and was waiting at the airport. An escape to Hawaii had to look pretty good about now.

She’d had something to say. But…wasn’t as if it’d make a difference anyway.

Then she noticed light coming from around back, from the separate dwelling. Just then, an icy wind whirled around her boots and a swirl of leaves chased her down the path. Guess she’d get to see him, tell him, after all.

She knocked lightly on the door, waited. When she tested the handle and it turned, unlocked, she called out his name and then let herself in.

He stood by a double bed. Clothes were piled up in a suitcase lying open on the quilt. He ran a hand back over that stubborn curl of hair and waited.

“I knocked,” she said, crossing over to join him, reciting the words again in her head. “I wanted to see you before you left. I needed to tell you...”

With his gaze piercing hers, he prodded. “Tell me what?”

“It’s about today. About the last few days, really.”

He waited another beat. “Go on.”

She lifted her chin and then crumbled…let it all out.

“I’m sorry, Damon. So sorry. I was upset. More upset than I’ve ever been in my life. I don’t want to be angry with you. I don’t want to be angry with
anyone
.” A suffocating ache pushed further up her throat. “But I can’t stop worrying about that baby. I’ve called but Krystal won’t pick up. I only want to make sure they got home all right. She must know that I’d worry.”

He wrapped his arms around her then, and held her so tight, there was a heartbeat when she almost forgot how much she hurt.

“I keep telling myself,” she said, “it will be all right. The baby will probably be fine.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But
probably
isn’t nearly good enough.”

He leaned his unshaven cheek against her head. “No. No, it’s not.”

“If Shelley were mine, I’d make sure she had the best life I could possible give her. I can picture her in first grade with piggy-tails, at graduation with her friends. Getting married to a man who isn’t anything like ‘dear old dad’.”

Or grandad.

Emma exhaled, pressed her face into his sweater while he rubbed her back, kissed her crown. “I’ve been thinking a lot, too,” he said.

When he held off saying more, Emma wiped her wet cheeks. His family was waiting. There was another far less complicated life for Damon Knight away from Point St. Claire.

And still, he kept looking at her. Just looking. Making her sweat.

Well, if he wouldn’t say it, she’d say it for him.

“I’ve held you up long enough. You need to get to the airport, catch your flight.”

He caught her shoulders. “Do you really think I could leave you now?”

“Damon, your bag is packed.”

“I packed,” he said, “to come stay with you.” His hand curled around the back of her neck as his lips brushed hers. “I was tired of waiting for an invitation.”