Sleigh Ride with the Single Dad, page 7
She prodded one of the cookies.
‘Still too hot, guys,’ she said. ‘But our mac and cheese has cooled down. You can have some of that and then the cookies will be ready for dessert.’
She lifted one twin and then the other off the bench. ‘Do you want to take your monkey suits off now?’
‘No. We want to be George.’
‘And watch George,’ Max added, nodding his agreement.
‘Okay. Do you eat your dinner at the table?’
‘Our table,’ Cameron told her. ‘With TV.’
‘Hmm. Let’s wash those monkey paws.’
Grace wasn’t sure that eating in front of the television was really the norm but, hey...they were all tired now and it was a birthday, after all. She served bowls of the homemade pasta bake on the top of a small, bright yellow table that Cameron and Max dragged to be right in front of the widescreen television. The chairs were different primary shades and had the boys’ names painted on the back. Fortunately, it was easy to see how to use the DVD player and an episode of Curious George was already loaded.
The smell of the mac and cheese made Grace realise how hungry she was herself. She knew she should tackle the mess in the kitchen but it wouldn’t hurt to curl up on the couch with a bowl of food for a few minutes, would it?
The yellow table, and the bowls, were suspiciously clean when Grace came in later with the platter of cookies and Houston had an innocent air that looked well practised. She had to press her lips together not to laugh out loud. She needed some practice of her own, perhaps, in good parenting?
The thought caught her unawares. She’d been enjoying this time so much it hadn’t occurred to her to realise that she was living a fantasy. But that was good, wasn’t it? That day at the park, she had wanted to able to embrace a special moment for what it was and not ruin it by remembering old pain. She had done that with bells on with this unexpected babysitting job.
The laughter had evaporated, though. And her smile felt distinctly wobbly. It was just as well that Cameron turned his head to notice what she was carrying.
‘Cookies...’
Max’s chair fell over backwards in his haste to get up and Houston barked his approval of the new game as they all rushed at Grace. She sat on the couch with a bump and held the platter too high to be reached by all those small fingers.
‘One each,’ she commanded. ‘And none for Horse, okay?’
They ended up having two each but they weren’t overly big cookies. And the crumbs didn’t really matter because a leather couch would be easy enough to clean. Not that Grace wanted to move just yet. She had two small boys nestled on either side of her and they were all mesmerised by what Curious George was up to on the screen.
‘He’s a very naughty monkey, isn’t he? Look at all that paint he’s spilling everywhere!’
The boys thought it was hilarious but she could feel their warm bodies getting heavier and heavier against her own. Houston was sound asleep with his head pillowed on her feet and Grace could feel her own eyes drooping. Full of comfort food and suddenly exhausted by throwing herself so enthusiastically into what would undoubtedly become an emotionally charged memory, it was impossible not to let herself slip into a moment of putting off the inevitable return to reality.
She wouldn’t let herself fall asleep, of course. She would just close her eyes and sink into this group cuddle for a minute or two longer...
* * *
It was the last thing Charles had expected to see when he let himself quietly into his apartment late that evening.
He knew his boys would have crashed hours ago and he had assumed they would be tucked up in their shared bedroom, in the racing car beds that had been last year’s extravagant gift from their grandparents.
They were, indeed, fast asleep when he arrived home after his hectic troubleshooting in a stretched emergency department, but they weren’t in their own beds. Or even in their pyjamas. Still encased in their little monkey suits, Cameron and Max were curled up like puppies on either side of Grace, who was also apparently sound asleep on the couch. Houston had woken at the scratch of the key in the lock, of course, but he wasn’t about to abandon the humans he was protecting. He didn’t budge from where he was lying across Grace’s feet but he seemed to be smiling up at Charles and his tail was twitching in a muted wag.
It might have been a totally unexpected sight, but it was also the cutest thing Charles had ever seen. He gazed at the angelic, sleeping faces of his sons and could feel his heart expanding with love so much it felt like it was in danger of bursting. They were both tucked under a protective arm. Grace had managed to stay sitting upright in her sleep but her head was tilted to one side. He had never seen her face in slumber and she looked far younger than the thirty-six years he knew she shared with him. Far more vulnerable than she ever looked when she was awake.
Maybe it was because she was a single unit with his boys at the moment that she was automatically included in this soft wash of feeling so protective.
So...blessed?
But then Charles stepped closer. What was that in Grace’s hair? And smeared on her cheek?
Chocolate?
A closer glance at the twins revealed unexplained substances in odd places as well. Charles could feel his face crease into a deep frown. What on earth had been going on here? Walking quietly, he went through the sitting room towards the kitchen and it wasn’t long before he stopped in his tracks, utterly stunned.
He’d never seen a mess like this.
Ever...
His feet were leaving prints in the layer of flour on the floor. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes. There was a deep dish half-full of what looked like mac and cheese and a wire rack that was covered with cookies. Cookies that were decorated with...good grief...what were those strange blobs and squiggles with chocolate candies poked amongst them?
Ah...there was one with a recognisable shape.
A spider...
And then it hit Charles. Grace had been making Halloween cookies with the boys and clearly she had let them do most of the decorating themselves.
Suddenly, the appalling mess in the kitchen ceased to matter because Charles had glimpsed a much bigger picture. One that caught his heart in a very different way to seeing his boys sleeping so contentedly.
This was a kind of scene that he had never envisaged in the lives of his precious little family. Because it was a dimension that only a woman would think of including?
A mother?
Somehow, it wrapped itself into the whole idea of a home. Of a kitchen being the heart of the house. Of putting up with unnecessary mess because that was how children learned important things. Not just about how to make cookies but about...about home.
About being safe. And loved.
For a moment, the feeling was overwhelming enough to bring a lump to his throat and a prickle to the back of his eyes that brought all sorts of other sensations in their wake.
Feelings of loss.
And longing...
He had to cradle his forehead between his thumb and finger and rub hard at his temples to stop himself falling into a complete wreck.
It was too much. On top of such an emotionally charged day riding that roller-coaster between remembered grief and the very real celebration of his boys’ lives, topped off with an exhausting few hours of high-powered management of a potentially dangerous situation, it was no wonder this was overwhelming.
It was too much.
But it was also kind of perfect.
* * *
It was the gentle extraction of a small body from beneath her arm that woke Grace.
For a moment, she blinked sleepily up at Charles, thinking that she was dreaming.
That smile...
She had never seen anything quite so tender.
He was smiling at her as if he loved her as much as she knew he loved his children.
Yep. Definitely a dream.
But then Max gave a tiny whimper in his sleep as he was lifted. And the warm weight on her feet shifted as Houston got up and then it all came rushing back to Grace.
‘Oh, my God...’ she whispered. ‘I fell asleep. Oh, Charles, I’m so sorry...’
‘Don’t be.’
‘But the mess. I was going to clean it all up before you got home.’
‘Shh...’ Charles was turning away, a still sleeping Max cradled in his arms. ‘I’ll put Max down and then come back for Cameron. Don’t move, or you might wake him up.’
That gave Grace all the time she needed to remember exactly what state she’d left this beautiful apartment in. It was bad enough in here, with the television still going, scattered toys and dinner dishes where they’d been left, but the kitchen...
Oh, help... She’d been given total responsibility and she had created a complete disaster.
But Charles didn’t seem to mind. He lifted Cameron with a gentleness that took her breath away. Maybe because his hands brushed her own body as he slid them into place and she could feel just how much care he was taking not to wake his son. His gaze caught hers as she lifted her arm to make his task easier and, amazingly, he was still smiling.
As if he didn’t actually care about the mess.
Grace cared. She got to her feet and any residual fuzziness from being woken from a deep sleep evaporated instantly as she went back to the kitchen.
It was even worse than she’d remembered.
Should she start with that pile of unwashed dishes or find a broom and start sweeping the floor?
Reaching out, she touched a puddle of chocolate icing on the granite surface of the work bench. It had hardened enough that it would need a lot more than a cloth to wipe it clean. Where were the cleaning supplies kept? Grace pushed her hair back from her face as she looked around and, to her horror, she found a hard lump that had glued a large clump of hair together. Hard enough to suggest it was more chocolate icing.
She was still standing there, mortified, when Charles came to find her.
For a long moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say that could encompass how embarrassed she was. Finally, she had to risk making eye contact. He had to be furious, surely, even if he’d been doing a superb job of hiding it so far.
He caught her gaze and held it firmly. Grace couldn’t look away.
Yes...there was something stern enough there to let her know he knew exactly how major the clean-up job would be. That he knew how carried away she’d been in her attempt to keep the twins entertained. That she’d surprised him, to say the very least.
But there was something else there as well.
A...twinkle...
Of amusement, laced with something else.
Appreciation maybe.
No...it was deeper than that. Something she couldn’t identify.
‘What?’ she heard herself whisper. ‘What are you thinking? That you’ll never leave me in charge of your kids again?’
One corner of his mouth lifted into a smile that could only be described as poignant.
‘I’m thinking,’ he said quietly. ‘That I’ve spent the last three years trying to be both a father and a mother to my kids and keep their lives as predictable and safe as I can and then someone comes in and, in the space of a few hours, wrecks my house and shows me exactly what I didn’t realise was missing.’
Grace’s brain had fixed on the comment about wrecking his house.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.
Charles’s gaze shifted a fraction. Oh, help...was he staring at the lump of chocolate icing in her hair?
‘I’ve never even thought of making cookies with the boys,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start. I know Maria makes them sometimes, but all that’s involved there is slicing up a frozen roll and sticking them in the oven. I’m surprised you even found a bag of flour in the pantry. Not only that, you let them draw spiders on the top.’
‘Oh...’ Grace could feel her lips curve with pleasure. ‘You could tell what they were, then?’
‘Only after I spotted one that you probably did. Some of them seem to have eyes on their legs.’
‘Helps to see round corners,’ Grace suggested. Her smile widened.
Charles was smiling back at her and that twinkle in his eyes had changed into something else.
Something that was giving her a very distinctive shaft of sensation deep in her belly.
Attraction, that’s what it was.
A very physical and very definite attraction.
Maybe Charles was feeling it, too. Maybe that was why he lifted his hand to touch her hair.
‘Chocolate,’ he told her.
‘I know...’ Grace made a face. ‘You might find you need to wash the boys’ hair in the morning as well.’
‘It’s not a problem.’ Charles was touching her cheek now, his finger feather-light. ‘You’ve got some here, too.’
Grace couldn’t say anything. She was shocked by the touch and the electricity of the current it was producing that flashed through her body like a lightning bolt to join the pool of sensation lower down.
The smile on Charles’s face was fading fast. For another one of those endless moments, they stared at each other again.
Fragments of unformed thoughts bombarded Grace. Memories of another time when they’d looked at each other just like this. Before Charles had kissed her for the very first time. Snatches of the conversation they’d just had. What had he meant when he’d said that she’d shown him what he hadn’t realised was missing in his life?
Surely he didn’t mean her?
Part of her really wanted that to have been the meaning.
The part that held his gaze, willing him to make the first move...
He was still touching her cheek but his finger moved past any smear of chocolate, tracing the edge of her nose and then out to the corner of her mouth and along her bottom lip.
And then he shut his eyes as he bent his head, taking his finger away just before his lips took its place.
Another shock wave of unbearably exquisite pleasure shot through Grace’s body and she had to close her own eyes as she fell into it.
Dear Lord...she had relived a kiss from this man so many times in her imagination but somehow the reality had been muted over the years.
Nobody else had ever kissed her like this.
Ever...
It was impossible not to respond. To welcome the deepening of that kiss. To press herself closer to the remembered planes of that hard, lean body. It wasn’t until his hand shifted from her back to slide under her ribs and up onto her breast that Grace was suddenly blindsided by reality.
By what Charles was about to touch.
She could feel the adrenaline flood her body now, her muscles tensing instantly in a classic fight-or-flight reflex, in the same moment that she jerked herself back.
Charles dropped his hand instantly. Stepped back from the kiss just as swiftly.
And this time there was a note of bewilderment in his eyes. Of horror, even...
They both looked away.
‘Um...’ Grace struggled to find her voice. And a reason to escape. ‘I...I really need to take Houston downstairs. He must be a bit desperate to get out by now.’
‘Of course.’ Was it her imagination or did Charles seem grateful for an excuse to ignore what had just happened? ‘He needs his garden.’
‘I can’t leave you with this mess, though.’
‘My cleaner’s due in the morning. It really isn’t a problem.’
No. Grace swallowed hard. They had another problem now, though, didn’t they?
But she could feel the distance between them accelerating. She wasn’t the only one who needed to escape, was she?
They hadn’t just crossed a barrier here. They had smashed through it with no consideration of any repercussions.
And maybe they were just as big for Charles as they were for herself.
But Grace couldn’t afford to feel any empathy right now. The need to protect herself was too overwhelming.
With no more than a nod to acknowledge her being excused from cleaning up the mess she had created, Grace took her leave and fled downstairs with Houston.
She had no mental space to feel guilty about escaping.
Besides, Charles had created a bit of a mess himself, hadn’t he? By kissing her like that.
That was more than enough to deal with for the moment.
CHAPTER SIX
‘OH, MY...’ VANESSA DAVENPORT looked slightly appalled as she peered more closely at what was being held up for her admiration. ‘What are they?’
‘Cookies, Grandma.’ Cameron was using that patient tone that told adults they were being deliberately obtuse. ‘We made them.’
‘And Gace,’ Max added.
‘Gace?’ Vanessa was looking bewildered now but Charles didn’t offer an explanation.
He was kicking himself inwardly. He should have known exactly what his mother’s reaction would be to the less than perfect cookies, but he couldn’t forgive the slap to his boys’ pride that had prompted them to insist on bringing their creations to the family afternoon tea.
It was the complete opposite end to the spectrum that Grace was also on. She’d been just as proud of the boys at the results of their efforts. This morning, she’d sent him the photo she’d taken of them sitting on the bench, their hands clasped and eyes shining with the tray of cookies between them. It even had Horse’s nose photobombing the bottom of the image and Charles had been so taken with it, he’d thought of using it for his Christmas cards this year.
Maybe not, if his mother was going to look like this.
‘Let’s give them to Alice.’ Vanessa was an expert in ignoring anything that she didn’t approve of. ‘She can put them in the kitchen.’
