The Christmas Proposition (14 page)

“Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen.”

There was an odd catch in her voice. Surely she didn’t think she was too old to start a family…

“I’m older than you and I still plan on having a houseful of kids,” he said. “It’s not too late for either of us.”

“You’ll be a good dad,” Rachel said.

There was sadness in her voice he didn’t understand. He found himself wishing she was in bed with him now so he could comfort her. He’d discover what was troubling her and make it better.

Because that was what a man did for a woman he loved.

R
achel had been grocery shopping with Lexi for almost an hour and it seemed as if every aisle of the large store had at least one seasonal display. Rachel slowed her steps, then stopped when Lexi paused the cart in front of a display of chocolate-covered marshmallow snowmen. Her friend picked up a handful of the brightly wrapped treats and tossed them into the cart.

Rachel smiled. “Don’t tell me we’re having those for dessert at the party instead of your famous gingerbread with spiced crème anglaise?”

A sheepish look crossed Lexi’s face. “These little guys are for me. They’re one of my secret passions. Give me Cadbury eggs at Easter and chocolate marshmallow snowmen at Christmas, and I’m happy.”

“No faves at July Fourth? Or Thanksgiving?”

Lexi shrugged, a smile teasing the corners of her lips.
“Laugh all you want. I’m sure you have your passions, too.”

“Not unless you count Derek Rossi.”

“Are you saying… Oh. My. God.” Lexi’s gaze searched hers. “You slept with him.”

“Lex,” Rachel hissed. “Keep it down.”

“It’s just that I’m so jazzed.” Even though her eyes still snapped with excitement, Lexi’s voice dropped to a conversational level. “When did this…event occur?”

Rachel sighed, knowing Lexi would hound her until she got some details. “Saturday night.”

“How was he?” Lexi pressed. “I mean, how was it?”

Rachel thought back to all the times she and Tom had made love. Predictable. Pleasurable. But those words didn’t come close to describing Saturday night in front of the fire. “It was…mind-blowing.”

“Oh, Rach, I’m so happy for you.” Were those tears in Lexi’s eyes? “We all love Derek. And you make such a great couple.”

It took a second for the words to fully register.

“Couple?” Rachel’s heart fluttered like a trapped butterfly in her throat. “Derek and I, we’re not a couple. We’re simply FWBs. Friends with benefits.”

By the look on her face, Lexi obviously wasn’t convinced.

“You’re the one who said friends can sleep together,” Rachel reminded her.

“They can.” Lexi’s eyes softened. “But we both know that’s not what’s going on here.”

A shiver of unease traveled up Rachel’s spine. “I don’t know any such thing.”

“This is me. The woman who fell in love with a man who didn’t even know his own name.” Lexi pushed the cart off the main aisle and parked it by a display of holiday cards. “When I realized I was falling in love with Nick, it was scary. But I took a chance and I’m so glad I did.”

“I’m happy it worked for you,” Rachel said. “But Derek is my friend. That’s all.”

Lexi heaved a disappointed sigh. “I really thought it was
L-O-V-E
between the two of you.”

“Nope. Just
H-O-T S-E-X.
”

Lexi laughed and they proceeded to the checkout lane. Once there, Rachel busied herself unloading the cart.

“You sly dog.” Lexi chuckled. “When were you going to tell me about the wedding? Were you keeping it a secret until the party?”

Rachel whirled, a carton of whipping cream in hand. “What wedding?”

“Yours.” With a Cheshire-cat smile, Lexi gestured to the rack of tabloids.

Rachel gasped. A picture of her and Derek adorned the front cover of one of the papers. A red arrow pointed to her ring finger. She read the headline:

Did Sexiest Player FINALLY Make It to the Altar?

Rachel opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Lexi snatched the paper from the rack and tossed it on the belt. “If you won’t give me the scoop, I guess I’ll have to get my information elsewhere.”

Her friend’s voice bubbled with laughter, but Rachel wasn’t amused.

The tattooed cashier picked up the paper. After
scanning it, she glanced at Rachel, then back at the paper. “Your new hubby’s a hunk. Congrats.”

Rachel blinked.

“Just smile,” Lexi whispered in her ear. “And tell her we’ll drive up for the groceries.”

Derek would never have believed skiing with a bunch of children could be so much fun. Even Travis seemed to be having a good time.

When David offered to watch his nephews so Travis could do his own thing, they all expected the sandy-haired bachelor to jump at the chance. Instead, he stuck around and spent the afternoon on the beginner slope helping the twins.

And when the kids begged them to stop at the lodge for hot chocolate with candy canes, Travis surprised them by coming along.

The pleasant afternoon started to unravel when Connor and Caleb grew bored, grabbed their peppermint sticks and began a sword fight. It completely fell apart when, in trying to stop them, Travis’s cup of cocoa ended up in his lap.

That was when they all decided to call it a day. But Derek still had to take Mickie to Christmas Eve program practice at church. He couldn’t believe she’d turned down Nick’s offer to ride with him and Addie.

After buckling her seat belt, Mickie crossed one leg over the other and swung the top leg back and forth. “Thank you for today, Mr. Rossi. It was a blast.”

Derek put the truck in gear and smiled. It had been heartwarming to see Mickie laughing and playing in the snow. “You’re welcome.”

Mickie stared out the window at a passing minivan filled with parents and children.

“It’s so not fair,” she said with sudden vehemence.

Confused, Derek cast a sideways glance. Were those tears in her eyes?

“I want to stay here. I want to live with you and Rachel. It’s all I want. It’s all I’ll ever want.”

Derek’s heart gave a lurch. He understood. He didn’t want to be without her or Rachel either.

“You understand…there is no Rachel and me.” Yet.

“There could be.” Mickie stopped swinging her leg and turned in her seat, the tears gone. “You love her, don’t you?”

Derek hesitated. “I do. But I’m not sure how she feels.”

“I know the problem.” Mickie heaved a heavy sigh.
“Tom.”

“She still wears his rings.” The words were out of Derek’s mouth before he could stop them. Obviously his conversation with his mother had impacted him far more than he realized.

“She still has his pictures all over the house,” Mickie added.

“He was her husband,” Derek pointed out.

“Was,”
Mickie emphasized. “She needs to forget him.
You
need to make her forget him.”

“The decision to move on is hers alone,” Derek said. “I thought her text meant she was ready. I’m not so sure now.”

Mickie stared at the floorboard. “So it’s hopeless. I go to a group home. You go back to L.A.”

“Not so fast.” Derek wanted to be with Rachel, but
even if that didn’t happen, he still wanted Mickie to be his daughter. Yet he didn’t want to give her false hope. “In the past, when I thought about taking in a foster child, I thought I’d have to be married to make it work. And in my mind, the child was always a boy.”

“Yeah.” Mickie slumped back down in her seat. “Everyone wants a boy.”

Derek’s gaze settled on this funny, smart, amazing girl.

“Then I met you,” he said. “And I wondered how I could have been so foolish.”

“Really?”

Derek nodded. “I also met some amazing people who made me realize that life doesn’t have to fit into some nice, neat slot.”

Mickie’s gaze grew puzzled. “I don’t understand.”

“Mary Karen is raising three small boys on her own. Lexi raised Addie by herself until last year when she met Nick.” Derek’s resolve to make this situation work strengthened with each word. “If they can do it, I can, too.”

Hope lit the child’s eyes. “Are you saying…?”

“I want you to be my daughter,” Derek said. “Assuming I can get your caseworker’s approval, when I return home to L.A., I’d like you to come with me.”

The choral director turned his attention to the preschoolers for a second and Mickie scooted over to where Addie stood so she could finish the story she’d started earlier.

“Then he told me he wants me to live in California with him,” Mickie said.

“Yippee.”

When the choral director shot her a warning glance, Addie smiled sweetly. “I mean, praise the Lord.”

“Let’s go over here.” Mickie took Addie’s hand and pulled her across the shiny linoleum of the church basement until they stood behind a large green plant. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Duh, you go with him. This is what you wanted, remember?”

“I want Rachel, too,” Mickie reminded her friend. “And so does Mr. Rossi.”

“Hmm.” Addie brought a finger to her lips and a thoughtful look crossed her face. “You’re right. Who wants half a sundae when you can have the whole thing?”

“Huh?”

Addie leaned close. “You have to figure out how to get the whole sundae.”

Mickie paused. Was this a riddle?

“You have to make Rachel see that she loves Mr. Rossi and has to forget all about her husband,” Addie said impatiently.

Mickie thought how Rachel had reacted to her putting the pictures of Tom in the drawer. “That’s not going to be easy.”

“Maybe,” Addie said, beginning to twirl. “But just think how great it’ll be when you have both a dad
and
a mom.”

T
he garage door rumbled open and Rachel’s heart skipped a beat. Derek had given her the pass code for the gate as well as a house key so she could drop off the groceries for tomorrow night’s party. He shouldn’t be surprised to see her.

Still, by the time he walked into the kitchen, her heart was thumping like a schoolgirl’s. She fumbled with some condiments on the counter, but relaxed a little when his lips widened into a smile.

“I just dropped off Mickie at the church,” he said. “I thought you’d already be here and gone. This is a nice surprise.”

Even though she’d like to believe otherwise, Rachel knew the warmth rushing through her had nothing to do with the furnace kicking on. “How’d the skiing go?”

“Couldn’t have been better. Mickie did fabulous.”

“Good to hear.” Dear God, could she sound any more tongue-tied and gauche?

His brows pulled together. “Is something wrong?”

“Do you read the tabloids?” Rachel nearly groaned aloud. She’d planned to be casual and offhand about the whole matter, not blurt it out.

“Not usually,” he said. “Do you?”

“Only when my picture is on the front page.” She gestured to the paper she’d left on the table. “See for yourself.”

His frown deepened and he dropped down into a chair.

She stood behind him and peered over his shoulder. “The picture was taken the night we ate at Perfect Pizza.”

In the photo she was smiling across the table at him and he was staring into her eyes with that sexy intensity that made her squirm even now.

Derek barely glanced at the photo.

“The interest in me had died down,” he murmured to himself as he flipped open the paper and paged until he got to the article. “What could have gotten it stirred up again?”

Assuming the question was rhetorical, Rachel remained silent while he read.

“It’s Niki.” He shoved the paper aside in disgust. “The article mentions she’s up for a role in a movie that’s being cast next month. Obviously this is her way of keeping her name out there.”

While it appeared to make perfect sense to him, for Rachel the puzzle pieces didn’t fit. “She gets free press by making it look like you got married?”

“The fact that I finally married is the article’s hook, which is only interesting if you bring up my past,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“That’s why they included all that information about your former fiancées.” Rachel had read the article several times—okay, close to ten. It had been impossible to find a trace of the man she’d come to know over the past few weeks in the slanted piece. Still, there was no denying the fact that Derek had walked away from three women he supposedly loved enough to propose marriage.

“Let me tell you what they got right,” he said, his eyes serious and very blue. “And what they got wrong.”

“Like I said when we first met, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Yes, I do.” His gaze met hers and the depth of emotion reflecting back at her made her heart pound even harder. “Things are different now.”

It was true. Three weeks ago they’d barely known each other. Now they were…more.

“According to the article, you’re my wife,” he said, flashing a grin. “That means you should know the truth.”

Without waiting for a response, he stood, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “First, let’s find some place more comfortable to talk.”

They’d barely gotten settled on the sofa in front of the fire when he began his story.

“Jenna, my first fiancée, was my college girlfriend. When I got drafted, we discovered that we’d had a miscommunication of sorts. I thought we’d get married and she’d move with me. Came to find out she thought I
wouldn’t get drafted. She had no intention of leaving Minnesota. It became a stalemate with neither of us willing to give.”

“I came to Wyoming with Tom,” Rachel said. “Even though I really didn’t want to move so far from where I’d grown up.”

“That’s the difference.” A muscle jumped in Derek’s jaw. “You loved him. Neither Jenna nor I loved each other enough to make the sacrifice.”

The situation seemed more sad than anything else.

“What about fiancée number two?” Rachel asked, when he sat silently staring into the fire. “They say you got cold feet and dumped her at the last minute, leaving her with thousands of dollars of wedding expenses.”

Derek pulled his gaze back to her.

“I met Heather when she was on the rebound. I’d have moved anywhere, done anything for her.” The flash of pain in his eyes told her more than any words that he’d loved Heather deeply. A stab of jealously lanced Rachel’s heart. “But shortly before we were to be married, she came to me in tears and confessed she was still in love with her old boyfriend. She’d made a mistake by agreeing to marry me.”

“But all the news reports at the time said
you
broke up with her.”

“That was the official story.” Derek raked a hand through his hair. His lips twisted in a semblance of a smile. “Her dad was a huge baseball fan. Heather used to tease that he loved me more than he did her. We both knew he’d never forgive her for dumping me. So I took the heat.”

Rage at Heather for leading Derek on and then
breaking his heart rose up and spewed out. “What kind of woman—”

“Heather did a brave thing in being honest with me,” Derek said simply. “Now Niki on the other hand…”

“Fiancée number three.”

He shook his head. “That whole relationship was a big mistake.”

Rachel listened attentively while Derek explained. Her outrage grew with each detail. “I can’t believe she tried to trap you with a pregnancy.”

“She knew how much I wanted children,” he said. “It was a brilliant plan.”

Derek loved children. Wanted lots of children.

A cold chill washed over Rachel. She shook it off. He hadn’t said anything she hadn’t already known.

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight.” Rachel paused for a second. “You found out she was a big fat liar and called it off. Now the woman is out to get you.”

“Not out to get me. Out to get publicity.”

“Same thing.” Rachel waved a dismissive hand. “You should tell your story. Expose her for the fraud she is.”

“It’d be nice if the world worked that way, but it doesn’t.” Derek shook his head. “Tabloid journalism isn’t interested in truth. They’re interested in selling papers. I’m just sorry you got caught up in it. You don’t deserve this.”

The warmth in his voice, the concern in his eyes said how much he cared.

In that moment Rachel realized she was no better than Heather. Like his second fiancée, she’d led him on. She’d made him believe her heart was free, made him believe they could have a future together.

Derek wasn’t a player. He was the marrying kind. That was why she had to end this relationship before it went any further.
Now.
She had to do it now.

But before she could say a word, he took her hands in his.

“Being with you these past couple weeks has meant the world to me.” His gaze never wavered from her face. “You’re going to be a hard woman to forget.”

Relief mixed with disappointment washed over her. The words Rachel had been about to speak died on her lips.
Hard woman to forget?
Although he obviously cared, he wasn’t thinking long-term.

Then why tell him goodbye now? In a little more than a week, he’d be gone anyway and her life would then return to the way it had been before. It was a depressing, er, reassuring, thought.

His gaze slid to the vee of her sweater. “What time do you need to pick up Mickie?”

The spicy scent of his cologne teased her nostrils and tiny sparks of electricity filled the air.

Her heart stuttered at the heat in his gaze. “Ah, not until five.”

“Well, because our fictitious union has been blessed by the tabloids…” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each of her fingers. “I was thinking we should do what newly married people do and—”

“Make love.” She’d planned to say “have sex,” truly she had, but somehow between her brain and her mouth, the message must have gotten scrambled.

“See, we’re even thinking alike.” He pulled her to her feet and she laughed. “Want to try a bed this time?”

The fire warmed the air and the light from a Tiffany
lamp lent a golden glow to the room. Outside, large flakes continued to fall, adding more fluffy softness to the already-thick blanket of white.

His eyes met hers and Rachel found herself drowning in the liquid blue depths. The world beyond this room ceased to exist. Nothing mattered. Except her. And him. And right now.

Rachel’s fingers moved to the front of her shirt. With her gaze firmly fixed on his face, she began unfastening the buttons one by one. “The sofa works for me.”

“Sofa sex.” Derek’s eyes shone with a wicked gleam. “You, my dear, are a woman after my own heart. I love…it.”

Her fingers stumbled on the buttons, rattled by hearing
heart
and
love
in the same sentence. But then his mouth was on hers and her fingers were unbuckling his belt. And thinking became impossible.

As she sank to the sofa cradled in his strong arms, Rachel realized it wasn’t his heart that would be broken when he left…but hers.

By the night of the Christmas party, Rachel had begun to wonder if she was obsessed. Whenever she was around Derek, all she wanted to do was get naked.

But tonight wasn’t about sex, it was about friends and family and celebrating. When Derek asked her to stand with him at the front door to greet the guests, she’d almost said no, worried they’d look too much like a couple. Then she realized she was being ridiculous. Most of the people coming to the party were strangers to Derek. It only made sense that there was a familiar face at the door to buffer the initial awkwardness.

Only after the guests had begun arriving did Rachel realize Derek would have done fine on his own. Like now, he stood conversing with David and Mary Karen’s parents as if he’d known them his whole life.

“Thanks for being here with me,” Derek said to her after the couple walked off in search of a glass of wine.

“I’m not doing anything special except stand here,” Rachel demurred.

“I strongly dis—” His words were cut off when Ron appeared at the door.

One of the staff Derek had hired for the evening whisked away Ron’s coat, but the older man kept a firm hold on his bottle of champagne. He greeted Rachel with a hug, then pumped Derek’s hand in an enthusiastic shake before handing him the bottle.

“Congratulations,” Ron said. “The wife and I were having breakfast at The Coffeepot yesterday when we heard the news.”

Rachel exchanged a glance with Derek. He shrugged and she refocused on Ron. “What news?”

Ron grinned. “Heard you two got hitched.”

Derek groaned. “The tabloid article.”

Rachel placed a hand on Ron’s sleeve and, with a bit of dramatic license, paraphrased Mark Twain. “I regret to inform you that the reports of my marriage are greatly exaggerated.”

The older man cocked his head. “Huh?”

“We’re not married,” Derek said. “There was an article in a supermarket tabloid that suggested that, but it isn’t true. Though I admit it did fool a lot of people. In
fact my mother and sister saw the article and called me, upset they weren’t invited to the wedding.”

“Take a look at your wife’s left hand,” Ron said. “I know a wedding ring when I see one.”

Heat crept up Rachel’s neck.

“Rachel was married before,” Derek said smoothly. “She wears the rings to honor her deceased husband’s memory.”

“I never noticed ’em before,” Ron said stubbornly.

Time to move on.
Rachel flashed Ron a warm smile and changed the subject. “Where’s your wife? I thought she was coming with you tonight.”

“She’s got that stomach bug that’s been going around,” Ron said. “Started yesterday. She’s a little better today, but not up to a party.”

“Be sure to tell her she was missed and that we hope she feels better soon,” Derek said, slipping his arm around Rachel’s waist.

His arm stayed there until all the guests had arrived. Then he took her hand and they started mingling.

Rachel slanted an admiring glance in his direction. “You’re so good at this.”

“At what?” he said, effortlessly scooping up a runaway cherry tomato from the floor and handing it to one of the waitstaff.

“At being a host.”

“Well, you’re an even better hostess.”

“Are you kidding? I’m totally out of my element,” Rachel said with a laugh. “I’ve never even had a dinner party at my home.”

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. “You and your husband never entertained?”

“Tom wasn’t much for socializing,” Rachel said simply. “But despite my inexperience, I’m discovering that I like it. A lot.”

He smiled and brushed a kiss across her lips.

At her startled look, he pointed to a spot directly above them where a sprig of mistletoe hung.

Rachel resisted the urge to touch her still-tingling lips. “Is it only my imagination or is there an overabundance of mistletoe in this house?”

“Travis’s contribution to the party.” Derek grinned. “He even put them up.”

“It surprises me that he went to so much trouble. I mean, there aren’t that many single women here,” Rachel said.

“But the one woman he is interested in kissing is here,” Derek said. “Mary Karen.”

“Nah.” Rachel shook her head. “He and Mary Karen are just old friends.”

They’d just stepped into the kitchen when Derek grasped her arm and pulled her to a stop.

“Does that look like they’re just friends?” Derek spoke in a low tone and gestured with his head to the doorway leading to the walk-in pantry.

Rachel inhaled sharply and widened her eyes. Travis and Mary Karen were kissing with a feverish intensity that brought heat rushing back to Rachel’s cheeks.

When Travis’s hand closed over Mary Karen’s breast, Rachel had seen enough. She looped her arm through Derek’s and pulled him to the other part of the large kitchen. Once there, she paused.

“She’s had several glasses of champagne,” Rachel
said, pulling her brows together in worry. “Do you think she knows what she’s doing?”