Unwrapped (26 page)

“What are you doing here, man?” Jonesy threw an arm around him and pulled Patrick in for a quick hug. “I thought you spent Christmas Eve with your family.”

“I do,” Patrick said, “but I have to pick up my wife's sister. What are you doing here? I thought you left last week.”

“I planned to, but then I met this girl at a Starbucks and…” He flashed a grin. “It's nice being the boss. And speaking of being the boss, I talked it over with Mike and we still want you to build the sports bars.” When Patrick started to speak, he held up a hand. “Even if that means I have to go with M&M and whoever you and your crazy family hires for my on-site project managers. I want you on my team, man.”

Patrick grinned. “That's great, Jonesy.”

He pointed his finger. “But I still expect you to supervise—even after you're rolling in your wife's money.” When Patrick sent him a confused look, Jonesy socked him on the arm. “You sly dog you. No wonder you decided to get leg-shackled so quickly. I would get married too if all I had to do was stay married for a year to get billions. Mike couldn't believe it when I told him who you married. I guess he knows the last dude Jacqueline left at the altar, and Gerhardt told Mike all about the stipulation in the aunt's will.”

While Patrick tried to piece things together, Jonesy went on. “According to Mike, Gerhardt was only going to get a small percentage. Please tell me that you worked out a better deal with Jacqueline before you signed the prenup.” He glanced at his watch. “Shit, I'm going to miss my flight.” He thumped Patrick on the back. “I'll call you after the first, and we'll get everything in writing.” He turned and hustled off.

For a moment Patrick couldn't seem to catch his breath. He felt like he had been plunged under water without any warning and was now floundering to find the surface.

Needing air, he headed for the exit. Once outside he pulled in greedy gulps. The sharp coldness expanded his chest and brought with it the stark truth.

Jacqueline had played him for a fool. She was exactly who he'd first thought she was. A manipulative, spoiled socialite who loved one thing—money. She hadn't married him because of their mutual attraction. Or because of their baby. She'd married him to get her hands on her aunt's inheritance. And that had probably been her plan all along, and the reason she'd come to Denver in the first place. Her standoffish behavior had been a ruse to throw him off—to make him think that marriage was all his idea.

Betrayed
was too mild a word to describe how Patrick felt. He felt blindsided. As if sleepwalking, he headed to the parking garage. He didn't pay any attention to the travelers who bumped him as they hurried home to their families, or care about leaving Bailey stranded. He only cared about one thing.

Ending the hoax of his marriage.

W
hat do you mean Patrick isn't there?” Jac didn't wait for Bailey to answer her before she pulled the phone away from her mouth and addressed Gerald, who sat in the front seat of Aunt Wheezie's car with Barkley. “Geri, didn't Patrick say that he was going to the airport to pick up Bailey, and if he didn't get back in time, he would meet us at the church?”

Gerald sent her an annoyed glance for interrupting his conversation with Barkley about spring fashion. “That's what he told me.” He turned back around. “So where was I, Barkley? Oh yes, I was telling you about the new teal tennis shorts I found at Neiman Marcus…”

Now more than a little worried, Jac returned to her conversation with Bailey. “Do you think something happened to Patrick? Maybe he got in an accident. Or some mugger accosted him in the parking garage. Or he got hit by one of those rental car buses. Those guys always drive so reckless—”

“Calm down, Jac,” Bailey said. “I'm sure Patrick didn't get in an accident. He's probably just parking. It's a madhouse here. I'll text him and meet him at the pickup area outside. Now, what's this I hear about church?”

Jac cringed. She had purposely kept the entire midnight mass thing to herself. Bailey didn't believe in God and had spent her adult life avoiding church. Which was more than likely due to their mother's religious craziness. Every six months she would drag them to church, where she would sob and carry on in a dramatic display of repenting her sins. Then, less than twenty-four hours later, she'd be sinning again. Jac didn't hold that against the church as much as against their mother.

“The McPhersons always go to midnight mass on Christmas Eve,” she said. “And I thought that maybe you'd like to—”

“No.” Bailey cut her off. “I don't mind suffering through the entire McPherson Christmas, but I refuse to spend Christmas Eve in church. I'll have Patrick drop me off at the hotel, and I'll see you in the morning.”

Jac wasn't happy about having to wait to see her sister, but there was no arguing with Bailey when she made up her mind. “Fine. I'm making you your favorite French toast for breakfast, but without the cream cheese because Patrick doesn't like cream cheese. And with a side of bacon because Patrick loves bacon. And we'll have to wait to eat until after Patrick and I go on our morning run.”

“Patrick has you exercising?”

“It's not really exercising, and I don't really run. I walk while Patrick laps me, then we walk to the bakery a couple blocks over and he buys me a chocolate croissant. Although, with it being Christmas, the bakery will probably be closed tomorrow.”

There was a pause before Bailey spoke in an awed voice. “Gerald was right.”

“Right about what? Did he tell you about Mr. Darby?”

Bailey groaned. “Please, Jac, I refuse to listen to one more crazy story about Mr. Darby trying to kill you. I was talking about you being in love with Patrick.”

Try as she might, Jac could no longer deny it. Somehow, some way, she had ended up in her own romantic comedy. A romantic comedy where the heroine falls head over heels in love with her hero. Uncaring that Wheezie sat in the seat next to her listening, Jac finally allowed the truth to spill out. And with it came a giddy sense of rightness. “I do love him, Bay. And I don't know how it happened. One second he was this arrogant, macho man, and the next second he became everything I've ever dreamed of.” Jac couldn't keep the smile from her face. “I thought we were so different that we could never get along, but our differences are what make us so compatible. He likes to eat comfort food and I like to make it, he likes to listen and I like to talk, he likes to make money and I like to spend it. So it turned out that we are perfectly matched. He's like my…” She struggled to find the right word and was surprised when Wheezie helped her out.

“Soul mate.”

Jac glanced over to find the old woman's eyes sparkling. Jac nodded. “Soul mate. Patrick is my soul mate.”

“Well, I think I just spotted your soul mate,” Bailey said. “So I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

Even after she'd replaced her phone in her purse, the bubble of happiness continued to swell in her heart. Although the happiness was mixed with awkwardness when Wheezie spoke.

“So you thought my nephew was an arrogant, macho man?”

Jac cleared her throat. “Maybe a little.”

Wheezie tipped back her head and laughed, which caused Jac to start giggling. They were both still laughing when Barkley pulled up in front of the large Catholic church.

“I'm going to drop you off at the steps so you ladies don't have so far to walk,” he said.

“You aren't coming in?” Gerald shot him a disappointed look.

“Barkley never comes in,” Wheezie said as she pulled on her gloves. “Which leads me to believe that he's a vampire and worried about turning to dust.”

Gerald glanced over at Barkley and sent him a seductive smile. “Jac and I have always had a thing for vampires.”

Barkley didn't reply, and Jac had to wonder if he was as interested in Gerald as Gerald was in him. He didn't appear to be very happy when Gerald decided to skip midnight mass and keep him company. Wheezie, on the other hand, found the entire situation funny. As Jac helped her up the flight of stone steps that led to the entrance of the church, the old woman chuckled.

“It serves him right for not telling me about Gabby's father.”

The church was a beautiful building with vaulted, ornate ceilings, huge stained-glass windows, and a reverent silence that freaked Jac out.

Unlike Bailey, Jac believed in God. Not as the burning bush in
The Ten Commandments
, but as a bigger, sterner version of George Burns in
Oh, God!
As she followed Wheezie down the long aisle, she waited for him to hover over her with his cigar and get after her for all the lies she'd told over the years. Which probably explained why she jumped when Al McPherson popped out of nowhere.

Big Al was just as scary as God.

“There you are, Wheeze.” His booming voice echoed off the high ceiling, causing more than a few people to turn and stare. Their annoyed expressions didn't seem to bother Big Al, or Wheezie, who laughed as she gave her nephew a hug.

“I figured you two would work things out and get back here in time to spend Christmas with your family.”

He smiled, a smile that looked just like Patrick's. Which made Jac a little less scared of him. “We would've been here a lot sooner if Mary Katherine wasn't so stubborn.”

Mary swatted at her husband. “Lower your voice, Albert. We're in church.”

He looked around, and his smile got even bigger. “We are, aren't we?” He gave his wife a resounding kiss on the cheek before turning to Jac. “Where's that ornery son of mine?”

Since it took a moment for Jac to find her voice, Wheezie answered for her. “He went to the airport to pick up Jacqueline's sister, but he should be here anytime now.”

Big Al gave Jac a thorough once-over. “You're Catholic, I take it.”

She swallowed hard. “No, sir.”

His eyes crinkled as he studied her. “Well, I'm sure Mary Katherine can change that. And not sir. Just Al…or Dad.” He pulled her into his arms and gave her a bone-crushing hug. “Merry Christmas, Jac, and welcome to the family.” Before she could get over her surprise, he released her and ushered his wife into a pew. A pew already filled with McPhersons. Since they had been at the Christmas Eve party, Jac had expected to see Rory, Amy, Gabby, and Douglas. She hadn't expected to see Jake, Melanie, and their children. And neither had Wheezie.

“What happened to your ski weekend?” Wheezie asked.

“The kids got bored with skiing. And since Rory and Amy came home early, we figured we would too,” Jake said.

Melanie leaned around him. “It wasn't because of Rory and Amy's decision as much as Jake's bad mood the moment we left the city limits. My husband does not like changing tradition.”

A scowl settled over his features. “Okay, so I like tradition. What's wrong with that?” He glanced down the pew at the aisle. “And it looks like I'm not the only one.”

Matthew and Ellie entered the pew. “We caught a late flight,” Matthew said as he helped Ellie off with her coat. “After Ellie's parents renewed their vows, they pretty much pushed us out the door. I think they plan to spend their Christmas in bed.” He dodged Ellie's playful swat. “Well, it's the truth. And I can't say as I blame them. I'm looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.” He winked at his wife. “Or not sleeping.”

“Shush, Matthew.” His mother got after him. “Sit down and behave yourself.”

“Things never seem to change. Do they, Mattie?”

At the words, everyone looked at the aisle to see Cassie filing into the pew, followed by James. It appeared that the McPhersons didn't like to be away from one another at the holidays. And Jac understood exactly how they felt. She wished Gerald and Bailey were there. But mostly she wished that Patrick were there, hooking his arm around her and pulling her close like James did with Cassie.

Cassie smiled up at her husband before she addressed her family. “When James's dad and stepmom heard about Jace's ear infection, they decided to come here for the holidays. Since they were tired from the trip, they volunteered to stay with the kids while we came to church. I didn't realize the entire family would be here.”

“Not the entire,” Wheezie said. “But Patrick will be here soon. Now everyone sit down so I don't have to crane my neck.”

The family followed her orders. Once seated, the McPhersons stretched the entire length of the pew. They were an imposing group. And a loving one. Jac watched as Amy snuggled Douglas to her shoulder, and Rory pulled Gabby closer and kissed the side of her head. Jake collected the cell phones from his two daughters and turned them off before handing them to Melanie, who had just finished taking earphones and a video game from their son. Matthew whispered something to Ellie that made her blush, and Cassie whispered something to James that made him laugh. And Big Al presided over it all with a content smile on his face.

This was what Jac imagined when she dreamed of a family—all the loyalty, laughter, and love. Suddenly everything became as crystal-clear as the cross that hung above the altar. Gerald was right. Money didn't buy happiness. The McPherson family proved it. They weren't happy because they had money. They were happy because they had love. Because they woke up every day knowing they were cherished. Jac had been no happier living with Aunt Frances than she had been living with her mother. In fact, the happiest moments of her life had been spent with Gerald and Bailey when she had very little money…and with Patrick in a small condo with a herd of stray animals and a large pool table.

It turned out that Jacqueline didn't want money.

She wanted love.

She looked up at the stained-glass window closest to her—at the savior with the soft blue eyes and loving smile—and she prayed. She prayed a prayer of thanks to God for having known what she needed when she hadn't.

It seemed fitting that Patrick would appear at that moment, his hair mussed and cheeks red from the cold. His gaze found her, and she discovered that his cheeks weren't the only things that looked cold. Her joy fizzled, and fear took its place. Especially when Patrick made no effort to move down the pew toward her.

“Sit down, Patrick,” his mother whispered under her breath. But he ignored her and motioned to Jac.

Terrified that something had happened to Bailey, Jac got up and scooted past the legs of every McPherson as she made her way to the aisle. Once she was there, Patrick took her arm and quickly propelled her toward the front doors. When they got outside the church, he released her.

“What is it?” she asked. “Is it Bailey? Did something happen to Bailey?”

He turned from her and walked over to the stairs, his hand running through his hair. “Why did you marry me?”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. “You brought me out here to ask me that? Geez, Patrick, you scared me to death.”

He turned back around, his features hard and unyielding. “Just answer the question, Jac. No lies. No manipulation. Just the damn truth.” His anger and desperation finally got through to her, and she felt almost as scared as she'd been before.

He knew. He knew about the will.

“Bailey?” she whispered. “Bailey told you?”

“No. I didn't wait for Bailey at the airport. Which is a good thing since I probably would've strangled her. She knew. Gerald knew. My friend from college knew. The only person who didn't know was the fool you suckered into marrying you. You care nothing about the baby—or me. You just care about your own selfish needs.”

She released her breath, and it turned to fog in the cold air. “You're right. I did want my aunt's money to begin with. To me, it was security. Something I never had in my life. But you're wrong if you think I don't love our baby, Patrick. I love our baby as much as I love you.”

He froze, his finger in midair. Then, just as quickly, it dropped limply to his side as he shook his head. “I'm not falling for your act, Jacqueline. Not again. You don't love me. You don't know what love is. When the year is up, you're planning on being long gone. And you're going to take my child with you. Admit it. That's the plan, isn't it?”

That had been the plan. But somewhere along the line, it had changed. Instead of one year, she wanted a lifetime. A lifetime of loving Patrick. But the look of hate in his eyes caused that dream to evaporate like her steamy breath in the cold air. Once it was gone, so was the desire to defend herself.

“Yes,” she said. “That was the plan.”

He stared at her a moment, her pain reflected in the clear green of his eyes. Behind her the door of the church opened.