Читать книгу Playboys' Christmas Surprises - Catherine Mann - Страница 14
ОглавлениеPorter had a knack for presentation and plans. It was a skill he’d picked up as he grew his construction empire. And it was something easily transferred to romance. He was a big-picture kind of guy.
And if any of his visions needed to pan out, it was this one.
The day after their shopping outing, he led Alaina through the house, hands covering her eyes.
“You swear you can’t see?” His body pressed against hers as they shuffled forward. The light scent of her coconut shampoo wafted in the inches between them, making him remember the countless nights they’d spent together. How he wanted that now. Wanted her now.
But he had to put recovering their family first. Taking her to bed would jeopardize his plans since she didn’t trust him yet.
“I swear. But what is all this about?”
“It’s a surprise. You’ll just have to trust me.”
Damn. If that wasn’t the statement of the moment. Trust him that the surprise was worth it. And that he was, too.
He spun her around the room, turning in circles until there was no doubt in his mind that she was completely disoriented.
Two turns later, and they were in the family room. Dropping his hands, he waited while she surveyed the room and the additions he’d purchased just for her.
A ten-foot-tall live Christmas tree stood centered in the three bay windows. It was already lit, the white lights bathing the room in a warm glow.
Two boxes of decorations—special ordered and newly delivered—were stacked on the white-and-tan-striped couch, pushed up against the blue pillows of embroidered crabs and starfish. The shelving unit behind the couch had been emptied of the normal knickknacks of lighthouses, shells and boats.
A blank canvas. Perfect for making new memories. And maybe uncovering other old ones that would bring them closer together. Of course there was also the risk that she would remember the wrong ones. That she would realize how close they’d come to divorcing and wonder why he hadn’t told her.
This was how they would build a family together. She had been right earlier. It was time to start creating family traditions. Ones Thomas would grow into.
Traditions grounded a person, gave them a firm foundation to build a life upon, and clearly Alaina had a gift for that he hadn’t recognized before. Maybe because he’d been too busy trying to wedge her into his preconceived notions of a family portrait rather than letting them make it together.
He wanted to create the family he’d never had as a kid. It was always just him, his mom and whatever guy she was pursuing at the time. There had been no long-standing traditions on Christmas or any other time. He loved his mother, of course, but they were distant. And he wanted better for his son.
He’d always wanted this. It was why he’d grabbed this second chance. But he was starting to see he’d sacrificed some of Alaina’s preferences to reach his goal.
“How did you get this here so quickly?” Gesturing to the boxes and the tree. Blue eyes dancing in the muted light.
“The idea came to me while we were shopping and I had it all delivered.”
“But you already had the decorations in place for when we arrived.”
“Those were the ones here before, the ones outside and in the living room. It struck me today we didn’t have anything less formal, for us as a family here, to open gifts with Thomas.”
She hugged him hard. “Thank you, it’s perfect.” Then she froze, stepping back and turning away fast to dig around in the box closest to them. She lifted the decorations out and stacked them on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“Did I choose those others in the main living room? They don’t seem like me.” She shot him a look. “They’re so...matchy...modern art deco rather than the smoother Renaissance palettes I gravitate toward.”
“You’re right.” And he was seeing how he’d missed the mark and wished that he’d paid more attention. “Most of the decorations came with the house. I bought the place as a gift to you.”
“You didn’t build this?” Surprise cut into her voice as she lifted the palm tree crèche out of the box. Leaning against the space between the boxes on the couch, she placed the crèche on the center shelf.
“Oh, I did. But for another family. They had everything in place, ready to move in and then they split up. I picked up the place for a song...um...not that I wouldn’t have spent a fortune for you.” A sheepish grin pulled on his cheeks. He placed a running silver reindeer on the lowest shelf behind the couch.
“I know that. Clearly.”
Was that a dig? Was she complaining about their lifestyle? He shook off the defensiveness and thought about her, her wants and preferences, and recalled how uncomfortable she’d always been with his wealth. “We always planned to redecorate and never got around to it. I should have insisted.”
“Or I should have insisted. I’m an adult. I take responsibility for decisions I made, even if I can’t remember them.” She rolled her eyes.
“Would you like to redo the whole place? Or our primary residence?”
“Primary residence? Hmmm. That still feels so...surreal. Like everything else in my life.” She toyed with a red satin bow. “I haven’t even seen our regular house in Tallahassee yet. Is it like this?”
“No, you had carte blanche there.”
“How long have we lived in that house?” She sat on the tile floor between the couch and the coffee table with the box of new tree ornaments in front of her. Each one unique and made by a local artisan. Reaching into the box she began to remove all kinds of ornaments. It was a mismatched set. She set them down, one by one, on the coffee table, eyes sharp with obvious approval.
He thought back to those early days when they’d had so much hope for their future, planning a big family, children, grandchildren, growing old together. “We had it built when we got married.”
“So we made those decisions together.”
“We did.” Kneeling, he helped her take the remaining ornaments out of the box. He lifted the first ornament they’d ever got together as newlyweds: two penguins on a snowbank holding hands. Gently, he set it next to the ornament that sported a snowman made of sand.
“I wish we’d gone to our house first.” Her fingers roved gently over top of all the decorations. It was as if she was trying to gain memories by osmosis. She stopped over a Santa Claus ornament. He was posed in a Hawaiian shirt and board shorts, and he had a pink flamingo beneath his hands. A small laugh escaped her lips and she brought the Santa to the tree and hung it on a bough.
“We still can.” He brought a snowflake ornament with him and hung it slightly below hers.
“But we’re settled for now and have the follow-up appointments with Thomas’s doctor. After Christmas we can settle into a new routine.”
“It’s a lot to take in at once, both places.”
“That’s perceptive of you.”
They kept bringing ornaments to the tree, filling the boughs until they grew heavy with their collective past. He enjoyed the way that she laughed over the ornaments. The way each one was an act of discovery for her.
The evening was too good to be true.
Just as they were getting ready to put the angel on top of the tree, his mother’s laughter floated into the room a second before she entered, hanging on the arm of a man with salt-and-pepper hair.
She waved her son over. “Come here, darling. You too, Alaina.”
What the hell? Porter pushed to his feet and silently fumed. Who was this man? Didn’t his mother realize they needed a calm and quiet family holiday? Her surprise visit had already added enough additional chaos to the equation.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“I want you to meet my new friend Barry. He’s a tax attorney.”
Now that seemed right. He was as polished as she was.
Barry thrust out his hand. “Nice to meet you both. Your mom has been telling me a lot about you.” His grip was tight as he shook Porter’s hand. “Oh, you’re putting up another tree? Best part of the whole Christmas season if you ask me.”
The guy was nice enough. Smooth. But so were most attorneys. They knew how to read people and work a room. This guy was no exception.
“I feel the same way, Barry.” Alaina’s voice cut his thoughts in half.
Courtney hugged Barry’s arm closer. “I’m so glad he’s joining us for dinner tonight. It’ll be a little party.”
“Mother, I need to talk to you. Mind if I show you something?” And with that he hooked Courtney’s arm in his. Smiling tightly, he led her out of the family room and into the hallway.
He glanced back into the room to see his mother’s newest suit-of-a-boyfriend helping Alaina put the angel on the tree. Something he had wanted to do with her. Damn it. Who pushed in on someone else’s Christmas decorating?
“Mom,” he hissed softly, “did you have to bring your boyfriend over now? Alaina’s condition is delicate and we have a new baby.”
“First—” she held up a slim finger “—Alaina is stronger than you give her credit for. Second, your child is asleep. And third, he’s not my boyfriend. We just met at a local fund-raiser I was attending at the invitation of your neighbor Sage.”
How freaking perfect. Sage was up to her usual tricks. She’d probably invited his mother to glean some information about what was going on with Alaina. She’d use their struggle as gossip at the next society function.
“There’s a helluva lot going on here without adding strangers to the mix. You should have spoken to me.”
“Let me get this straight.” His mother folded her arms. “I showed up uninvited and brought my uninvited pickup. That makes you uncomfortable.”
Always the lawyer. Even out of the courtroom.
“You’re leading the witness, Mother.”
“Fair enough.” She held up both hands. “Barry and I will go out.”
He gave an exasperated sigh as he put his hand to the back of his neck. “No, stay. It’ll only be more awkward if you haul him back out after announcing he’s staying for dinner.”
She clacked away from him, back into the great room, heading to the last box of Christmas decorations.
So much for creating stable traditions and experiences like a normal family. Tonight was supposed to have been calm. Relaxing. A night for him and Alaina to grow closer. To move toward becoming a family. Turns out that was just as difficult for him as it was for her.
* * *
Alaina cut through her petite filet with ease. Shoveling a forkful into her mouth, she watched the verbal volleyball tournament between her mother-in-law and Porter. The tension in the room rolled in waves.
“I’m just saying, sweetie, that if you move the Christmas tree closer to the fireplace in the family room, there will be enough room for us to sit comfortably and display all of Thomas’s gifts.” Courtney used her fork to slice up the asparagus before continuing. “Think of how visually appealing that will be. Think of the pictures of Thomas’s first Christmas. You only get one first Christmas, you know.”
Porter set down his crystal water goblet. “Yes, Mother, that is true, but—”
“But what? You’re not worried about the pictures. Believe me, you’ll regret that in a few years.”
Porter let out a deep sigh, and speared a piece of his medium rare steak with his silver fork. His face remained calm, but Alaina noticed the way his jaw flexed. It was a small movement but it was there and had nothing to do with eating his meal.
“So, Barry—” Alaina broke into the conversation in an attempt to let the heat fade “—have you always lived in Florida?”
“No, no. Though I have been here for forty years, so it seems funny to claim another state when I’ve acquired the Florida tan we all get from simply walking around. I’m actually from Colorado originally. Just outside of Denver. Have you ever been there?” Barry sipped his wine, eyes as keen as the cut crystal.
Such a simple question. Yet panic filled her. Had she been to Colorado? That was the tricky part about conversations with strangers.
“Oh, Barry, you can’t put Alaina on the spot like that right now.” Courtney chimed in, touching his arm. “She was a victim of a terrible car accident. She’s got a mild case of amnesia.”
Porter pinned Courtney with a glare. She merely blinked in response. Alaina’s eyes slid from Courtney to Porter. While it was true, she didn’t like the ill effects of her accident being casually brought into conversation. So she decided to take charge of this conversation.
“By mild amnesia, my mother-in-law means I’ve forgotten the past five years.” Alaina tapped her fingernail on her water glass. “Other than that, I’m fine and prefer people not treat me with kid gloves.”
“All right, then,” Barry agreed. “I can understand that—”
Courtney stopped him with another touch to the arm. “It’s just easier if people know what they are dealing with up front. They get a fact pattern and suddenly, they understand how to handle a situation.”
“Spoken like a true lawyer. Give me the facts.” Barry wheezed out a laugh.
Porter’s jaw flexed again. His disapproval of the way his mother had introduced the life-changing accident was more than apparent. Alaina could tell that any second now, he might explode, and that was the last thing she wanted or needed. Not to mention their reactions confused her. What was with all this tension? What was she missing—well, other than five years. So much of her life was confusing.
But right now wasn’t about her. It was about her husband, who was clearly upset. She reached under the table to touch his knee, squeezing lightly until he looked at her. She pleaded with her eyes and somehow he seemed to understand.
Was this what it was like to be married? Was this an almost memory, the way they could communicate without words? It felt good.
“Amnesia, huh,” Barry said between bites of his dinner. “That’s rotten luck, Alaina. I wish you a speedy recovery.”
“Thanks. I’m lucky to have such a great support system here.” It was the most diplomatic answer she could manage. She gave Porter’s knee another quick squeeze of thanks. And then returned her attention to her filet.
From the other end of the room, Thomas erupted in a gut-wrenching cry.
Alaina and Porter both sprang to their feet and rushed to the jungle-themed baby swing. She eased Thomas out and up, cradling him in her arms, rocking him back and forth. He still fussed.
“He’s hungry,” she said, glancing down at her watch. It was definitely dinnertime.
“I’ve got it.” Porter’s murmur was low, almost too soft to hear. Porter left the dining room and jogged into the kitchen. Moments later, he reemerged with a burp cloth and bottle, already a seasoned pro at this dad thing.
How long had they wanted this?
A whispery memory rippled through her mind of her looking at Porter as he held an infant swaddled in blue. But the baby boy wasn’t Thomas—somehow she knew it was the son of Porter’s CFO, the boy who was now a toddler.
Her heart ached to see the longing in his face, and then the memory faded, the rest gone. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and looked at her husband, the man still so new to her now but who had felt so familiar in the memory.
Courtney set her Waterford wineglass down on the table, half rising from her chair to get a better look at them. “Don’t you have a live-in nurse to take care of him, Porter?”
“I just want to make sure I’m there for my son and that he knows who I am.” He tested the milk on his wrist, then handed it to Alaina.
“And you are, Porter.” Courtney dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “But you hired help. So let them help. You don’t need to hover. I certainly never hovered over you and I was a single parent. I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Not when it comes to my grandson.”
“I appreciate that, Mother.” Porter’s tone was level as if he knew to keep it calm for his son, although the set of his broad shoulders made it clear his patience with his mother was nearing an end. “But I think a mix of help and hands-on work is best. Besides, we won’t use the help forever. That’s just until we’ve settled back into a routine.”
So he had been serious when he’d said the night nurse was a component of her recovery. He was sincere about being a fully involved parent. She admired that. Wanted to be part of that unit. Thomas deserved that dedication from both of them.
His mom’s counter came within seconds. “That’s where I think you might be wrong. I think the full-time help is wonderful. It really expands what you can do at the company. You know he’s in good hands. And you can work more, grow the empire and make sure he has whatever he wants in his life.”
Alaina assumed her mother-in-law’s advice was coming from a good place. But it seemed more than a tad controlling. She admired Porter’s restraint in not calling out his mom on that and wondered if he was holding back to keep things peaceful, not just for Thomas, but for Alaina, too.
Maybe this had been why she and her mother-in-law hadn’t gotten along before the amnesia. She didn’t need her memories to clue her in on that.
She just resented the way Porter’s and his mother’s issues were intruding on what had been the best day Alaina could remember having with her husband, when there were precious few to remember.
In spite of knowing there was so much of her life left to uncover, she found herself wanting more of those new memories.
* * *
He closed the door behind his mother. Finally. And not soon enough.
He’d known this was a bad idea, having his mom here for Christmas. She hadn’t ever been the home and hearth for the holidays sort, and she certainly hadn’t got along with Alaina. This wasn’t the joyous, peaceful atmosphere he’d been attempting to create with his wife. This evening was a prime example. His day with Alaina had been derailed by that damn awkward dinner.
At least Courtney was out for the evening with Barry the tax attorney. Just like that, she’d become the mother of his youth. The one who was interested in men more than family. The one who put boyfriends first.
Alaina’s misfortune was that she couldn’t remember a thing. His great curse was that he couldn’t forget a single damn moment. What a pair they made.
Cricking his neck to the side, he strode to his office computer and uploaded some videos of their Tallahassee house onto a disc for Alaina so she could see where they’d lived. Maybe that would jostle a memory. And maybe she would see her own stamp on their life in a way she hadn’t here.
He was struck by the irony. Even with streaming music, some people still made music mixes on CDs as a gift, full of “their songs.” Not him. But then he wasn’t sure she would even like the same music anymore. His whole life felt upside down lately.
He thought all he’d wanted was the family he’d dreamed of having, but in getting to know Alaina again, seeing her in a new way after the accident, his feelings were mixed up.
Even his mother’s behavior tonight had rocked him. It’s not that he minded that she had a new beau. She was a grown-up, after all. But it brought the weight of his past crashing down on him.
Needing to calm himself, Porter made his way to Thomas’s nursery. Seeing his son was a way to remind himself that this was not the past. That he was going to be an active part of his son’s life. That he was making the family he’d always wanted.
Porter had never lacked material objects as a child. His mother was a brilliant attorney and made a decent salary.
But he had been profoundly lonely. And he never wanted Thomas to experience that. Never wanted him to feel as if he wasn’t welcome, as if he wasn’t wanted.
Courtney had chased love for Porter’s whole life. Moving from man to man. Men who seldom bothered to learn Porter’s name, always settling on the generic “sport” or “son.” Nameless. Invisible.
He’d attended an elite boarding school from middle school through high school. He was home for three weeks over Christmas and two months over the summer.
It was common for his mother to promise to spend time with him only to bail in favor of a date and time at the bar. She’d always promised to take him to movie releases, or ice-skating or bowling. But more often than not, Porter did all those things with a nanny instead of with his mother. He was frequently sent to his room so his mother and her current boyfriend could have the run of the house, child-free.
But there had been one Christmas break when he was in seventh grade that completely changed their relationship forever. It was part of the reason he still felt so distant from his mother. The experience left him feeling like a part-time son in a part-time family.
Alaina might not have ever gone to Colorado, but he sure as hell had.
He had come home from break, excited for the plans he had made with his mother over the school year. They were supposed to go skiing in Colorado. It was going to be a winter wonderland filled with snow, hot chocolate and sports.
They had gone to Colorado. But Courtney had brought a nanny along for the ride. As well as her boyfriend. She’d enrolled Porter in a snow camp for the day and the nanny entertained him at night while Courtney wined and dined. He’d even discovered she planned the whole trip around her meet-up with the guy. Porter had felt completely let down. He’d wanted to spend time with his mother. Even as a teen, he’d been seeking that connection. But it was on that trip that he’d realized it would never happen. If he wanted a family of his own, he would have to create it himself.
Shoving the memory aside, Porter stood over the crib. Thomas snoozed, breathing light little breaths. He was so peaceful.
It would be different for Thomas. Porter and Alaina would figure out how to be around each other. They would move past the temporary truce they’d erected before the accident and live as a family. Alaina seemed to feel their connection as much as he did. Even if she regained her memories, surely she would forgive the past and stay this time. And they both already felt so bonded to their son.
A muted knock sounded from behind him. Porter wheeled around to see Alaina standing in the doorway. She’d already changed for bed. She was in a racerback tank top that showed off her ample curves. The black shorts hugged her legs, inching up her strong thighs. His gaze lingered on her smiling face.
“Hey. You know, today was pretty amazing. Maybe you’re not so terrible at that romance thing.” Her voice was low, but playful. Almost like the Alaina he had first fallen in love with. He ached to grab her, to draw her into his arms.
“Well, I only know how to go big or go home.”
“Today was great. All the things we found for Thomas. You bringing the decorations out for us tonight. Trying to get our own holiday traditions started. It was sweet and it meant a lot to me.” She stepped close to him. Just barely out of reach.
Close enough that the coconut scent of her shampoo teased his senses. Close enough that he ached to pull her to him and take her to bed. Patience be damned. But there was too much at stake. Keeping them together. Keeping her happy. Keeping her.
He forced himself to measure his words.
“I want us to be a family.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep from grabbing her and saying to hell with talking. “And I think your idea of a shrimp boil is a great follow-up to what we did tonight. We are a team. Input from both of us matters.”
“I think so, too. The time we’re spending here is helping.” She paused, her beautiful blue eyes glazing over with her attempt at looking inward. “I also vaguely recall making the painting I gave you. I can see it in my mind. It’s a bit fuzzy, but I can remember the colors I used, the brushes...”
Memories. He should be rejoicing. And he was glad for her, but he couldn’t stop the impending sense of doom. What would happen when she remembered all the mistakes he’d made? When she realized those were the questions he had avoided answering?
“It’s great that you’re starting to remember. I love your paintings. Your colors. I can’t wait for you to re-see our house in Tallahassee.”
He just prayed they could mend their marriage—their family—before the rest came rolling in. The bad parts. The possible divorce.
And God—that sucker punched him. The stakes were higher than ever. They had a child now and Porter felt he was getting to know Alaina all over again.
“What other kinds of things did you give me over the years? You know, aside from a beautiful beach house?” Leaning over the crib, she rearranged the baby blanket.
“The humanities, art specifically, is clearly important to you. In Tallahassee, you’re extremely active in the Art Association. And you wanted elementary school kids to be exposed to art. So I started a scholarship program in your name that brings artists into the classroom.”
“Porter, that’s so generous of you. I don’t know what to say.”
Her face flushed with such gratitude he felt guilty for keeping other facts from her. Facts about their marriage. But he was focused on the bigger picture, a long-term answer for them. Their future as a family. She would see that, if she suddenly remembered everything. She had to.
“You don’t have to thank me, Alaina. You deserve it. And the program has been a success. The kids really benefit from it.”
She looked at him them. Really and truly looked at him. He held her gaze, reading the warmth in her sky-blue eyes. The eyes of his wife and the eyes of a stranger at the same time.
Thomas began to stir, making little clucking noises. Poor guy. They were disturbing his much-needed sleep.
“I think we might be too loud.”
“I guess that’s our cue. We’ve got to let sleeping babies sleep.” He took the monitor so he could give it to the matronly night nurse. “Besides, there is one more surprise for you. But it’s back downstairs.”
* * *
Alaina followed him back down the stairs and into the family room. They didn’t bother with the actual light, but chose to sit beneath the glow of the Christmas tree.
“Close your eyes.” His whisper tickled her ear. She let her eyes flit shut. A box was placed gently in her lap.
“All right. You can open them. And the present.” Porter sat across from her, on the ground. Eyeing the box, she tore into the perfectly wrapped package. She lifted the flap.
And gasped in delight and breathed in the scent. Her soul sang.
Canvas paper. Acrylic paint. Oil paint. Chalk. Paintbrushes and sketching pencils. Everything she needed for a quick art set.
“Oh, Porter. You didn’t have to... I mean...you could have waited for Christmas...” Her voice hitched in her throat. Emotions pulsed. Her breathing sped up in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to pour out her emotions on the page.
He cupped her shoulders. “I’m a pretty simple guy. I want my family to have what they want. What they need. And I thought it would be a good outlet for you. I think this is the longest you’ve ever gone without some creative project.”
In the deepest part of her being, she was truly touched. He had been trying so hard to connect with her. To do things to make her feel more comfortable. Even if their life before the accident hadn’t been perfect, the man before her now was putting in a real effort.
“Porter, it’s perfect. Thank you.” She grabbed his hand, beginning to feel as if she knew the texture and feel of him. He tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Of course.”
“Can I ask another question?”
“Always.”
“How did we decide on the name Thomas?” It had been her father’s name. She hoped that had been the reason, but she didn’t trust much about her instincts these days. A pang of sorrow shot through her. Her father would never know her son. She took a shaky breath. His loss felt so recent.
Porter inched toward her. They were side by side. His shoulder brushed hers and she leaned into him. Breathed in the dark clove scent of his cologne.
“We chose the name for your father. It wasn’t much of a discussion. I never had a father and your father sounded wonderful even if I never had the honor of meeting the guy. It seemed right. Fitting.” He wrapped his arm around her, and she buried her face in his chest. The tightness of his arm on hers ramped up her heartbeat. He was beginning to feel like someone she could talk to. Trust was still an iffy idea, but she was moved by his actions today.
She couldn’t deny it. She was ready to take this to the next step. She craved intimacy with him. Her body ached for him, recognizing him on an instinctive level that went beyond memories.
“I know there must have been difficulties between us. Probably a strain because of the infertility,” she began to say. She had to finish before she lost her nerve. “And probably a bunch of other things that I don’t need to know right now...but I’m glad that we are trying to become a family now. And I was wondering if you could stay the night with me. Just sleeping. Nothing else. What do you think?”
His eyebrows shot upward. “I think I would be an idiot to say no.”
