Maverick Christmas Surprise by Brenda Harlen

Author:Brenda Harlen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2019-09-11T14:55:39+00:00

* * *

Wilder stacked logs and built a fire in the hearth while Beth arranged Cody’s presents under the tree, then he went to the kitchen to make the hot chocolate.

He returned to the family room with two steaming mugs topped with marshmallows just in time to catch her brushing an errant tear from her cheek.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Under the circumstances, everything is better than okay,” she told him.

“So why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” she denied, as she accepted the proffered mug.

“You just wiped away a tear.”

“A single tear isn’t crying,” she said.

“So what is it?” he pressed.

“Proof that the holidays make me a little emotional,” she confided. “Christmas is my favorite time of year, but it’s a bittersweet time, too, because I can’t help but remember all the happy Christmases of my childhood, which makes me think about my parents, and then I find myself missing them and—” she cut herself off then. “Oh, Wilder, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you lost your mom, too.”

“I didn’t lose her—she left,” he reminded her.

“And she didn’t stay in touch after the divorce?” she asked curiously.

“She died only a few months after the papers were signed.”

She wanted to apologize again for bringing up such a difficult subject, but he would only deny it was difficult. Instead she said, “I’m sorry you don’t have any memories of her.”

He shrugged. “And since I don’t, there’s nothing for me to miss.”

To Beth, that was just as sad.

“So what were your Christmases like?” she asked, hoping he might share some happy memories.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Presents under the tree, a big turkey dinner. Christmas cookies,” he said, and smiled then. “Our housekeeper made these amazing cookies decorated with icing and colored sugars.

“I thought we’d miss out this year, but she sent a box in the mail. There must have been six dozen cookies, and they were gone within two days.”

“Not just between you and your dad?”

“No,” he admitted. “The note said we had to share, so we did.”

She smiled at the obvious regret in his tone. “What about your tree—have you always had a real one?”

“Is there another kind?”

She tapped a finger against one of the branches, watched the tip bob. “They do smell good,” she confided.

“You don’t get a real tree?” he guessed.

She shook her head. “My apartment’s on the sixth floor, and it just seems like too much hassle to drag one into the building, cram it into an elevator, then haul it down the hall and into my apartment, leaving a path of needles along the way.”

“A path of needles would make it easy for Santa to find you,” he pointed out.

“Instead, I have a sign that goes in the window that says Santa, Please Stop Here!”

“You don’t think Saint Nick knows where he’s supposed to stop?”

“I don’t like leaving some things to chance.”

“And what was on your wish list for Santa this year?” Wilder asked her.

“Oh, um, just...you know...the usual stuff.”

“You didn’t make a list for Santa, did you?”

“Not exactly.”

His gaze narrowed thoughtfully.

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