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A Mummy for Christmas
Cathy Gillen Thacker


Merry Christmas To Friends, Neighbours…Lovers? Neighbours and fellow single parents Travis and Holly don’t know what they’d do without each other. Besides being good friends, they’re each other’s backup in times of domestic chaos, which, with four pre-schoolers between them, is most of the time!They have just one unwritten rule: they have to stay friends. But after sharing a knock-your-socks-off kiss, friendship no longer seems like enough. Could it be that the perfect Christmas solution lies right next door – for both of them?







Travis hadn’t meant to do anything but talk to Holly and give her the emotional support she needed, friend to friend.

He hadn’t counted on how right it felt when he’d instinctively pulled her into his arms to comfort her. Or considered how the look in her eyes as she reached out to him emotionally, at long last, in that distinct woman-man way, would change everything he felt, too.



The boundaries they had painstakingly put in place from the moment she moved in next door had dissolved.



The blinders were off. He saw her as the vital, passionate, loving woman that she was, and the feel of her soft, slender body in his arms sent a charge roaring through him, unlike anything he had ever felt. The tremulous sigh of her breath, the sweetness of her scent and the surrender of her soft lips all combined to further ignite the fire. In just one kiss, one long, sweet, sultry kiss, his whole world turned upside down. Yet never had anything—or anyone—ever felt so right.





A Mummy for Christmas


By




Cathy Gillen Thacker











www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/)


Dear Reader,



Christmas inspires us all. There is something about the month of December that encourages people to give of their hearts, their time and their money. For causes, big and small. And to the benefit of friends and family and the people in their lives that they love most of all. But what do we do when a child asks for something we just can’t give?



Travis Carson is in that predicament. His daughters, four-and-a-half-year-old Sophie and three-and-a-half-year-old Mia, want a mummy for Christmas, and they expect Santa to bring them one. Travis explains this isn’t possible. And, because he wants his two little girls to be happy, begins looking for other ways to give them more of the feminine influence they need in their lives.



His best friend and neighbour, Holly Baxter, does not have that problem. Her three-and-a-half-year-old twin sons, Tucker and Tristan, have never really known the father who deserted them shortly after birth, and they don’t seem to particularly want a daddy, either. The problem is, their dad is suddenly interested in seeing them again. And Holly isn’t sure if this is a gift or a calamity in the making.



Travis and Holly tackle these two problems the same way they approach every other challenge in their single-parent families—together! And before they know it, the Christmas season is bringing them one very wonderful gift, too.



Happy holidays to you and all your loved ones!



Cathy Gillen Thacker




About the Author


CATHY GILLEN THACKER is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas, and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heart-warming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website at www.cathygillenthacker.com for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favourite things.




Chapter One


Travis Carson did not know what he would do without his next-door neighbor, Holly Baxter. And frankly, he did not ever want to find out. The divorced single mom was always on hand to help him out with his two young daughters. And he did the same for Holly and her twin boys. Their kids attended the same Fort Worth, Texas, preschool. Weekdays, they shared a nanny. Weekends, depending on their individual schedules, a little more.

But most of all, they were friends. And right now he needed a friend with a mother’s heart—and accompanying wisdom.

“So what’s the problem?” Holly dodged a Christmas piñata and slipped into the booth of the popular Tex-Mex restaurant. She shrugged out of her trendy red wool coat and gloves, then leaned across the table to be heard above the festive strains of “Feliz Navidad,” playing in the background. “I assume it has something to do with the kids?”

Travis nodded. He reached into the pocket of the black down vest he wore to ward off the chill at the construction site, and handed over an envelope addressed to the North Pole. “Read it and weep. I did.”

Clearly debating whether to take the situation seriously or not, Holly wrinkled her nose, and worked open the seal.

Across the aisle, a tableful of guys in suits were staring admiringly her way. Travis couldn’t blame them. At thirty-three, Holly seemed to get more beautiful by the day. Her long golden-brown hair was silky, soft and incredibly glossy. Her skin held the warm glow that came from living in a sunny climate, her five-foot-six frame the sleek, sexy look of a woman who worked out regularly. There was a lot to admire about her lovely girl-next-door features, but it was the genuine trustworthiness radiating from her wide-set aquamarine eyes that really drew him in. It wasn’t just that they were friends—Holly seemed accessible to him in a way no other woman ever had. Which was what made all that ogling from that group of guys all the more annoying. Travis turned and gave them a look.

They got the hint and turned away.

Meanwhile, Holly was transfixed by at the letter she had unfolded. With a curious lift of her elegant brow, she read out loud the words that had haunted him since breakfast.



“Dear Santa,

“We have been very good this year so please bring us the only thing we want this year—a mommy. “Hugs and kisses, Sophie and Mia.”



The bottom and margins of the page were decorated with childish scrawls, stickers and lots of X’s and O’s.

Holly set the letter down. “Wow.” She rummaged in the canvas carryall that served as her handbag. “It’s almost as good as the letter Tucker and Tristan dictated to me last night.”

Travis kicked back in his seat, enjoying their usual camaraderie. “You can’t beat that.”

Grinning, she handed over the letter. “Read it and weep.”

In the margins of the boys’ letter, were crude drawings of airplanes and trucks.



“Dear Santa,

“We want a spaceship big enough to fly away in.

“Love, Tucker and Tristan.”



The waitress appeared with a basket of crisp tortilla chips, still hot from the fryer, and some freshly made salsa. She stayed long enough to take their orders, then disappeared.

“So what are you going to do?” Holly asked.

Travis shrugged as the waitress returned promptly with two large glasses of iced tea. “I don’t know. I was so taken aback when the girls dictated their letter last night, I didn’t know what to say.”

“Me, either.” Holly sighed.

“When they get it into their head…”

“…that something is possible…” she murmured, continuing his thought.

“It’s awfully hard to change their mind,” he finished.

“Supposedly it’s a stage all three- and four-year-olds go through.” Holly munched on a chip. “You know…where they think they have everything figured out and you can’t convince them otherwise.”

Silence fell between them.

They locked eyes and exchanged beleaguered grins, both of them knowing how lucky they were to have these kinds of problems—especially at Christmas.

“So what do you want to do?” Holly continued to hold Travis’s gaze.

“The usual dinner and a movie?” he offered with a shrug, glad he didn’t have to handle the upcoming “explanation” alone.

Holly perked up. “Tonight?”

He nodded. “The sooner we clear this up with the little ones, the better. And we can fit the ‘discussion’ between the two events.”

Holly grinned as the waitress bustled back to their table with two plates of puffy tacos. “Sounds good to me.”



THERE WERE TIMES IN every parent’s life, Holly Baxter thought, when “backup” was required. Tonight was one of them. Which was why she was so very glad she had Travis Carson to help her face life’s problems, big and small.

“What do you mean we have to write letters to Santa?” Travis’s daughter, Sophie, demanded with all the indignation a four-and-a-half-year-old spitfire could muster.

“We already wrote them!” her three-year-old sister, Mia, complained.

“And we wrote ‘em, too,” Holly’s son, Tucker, stated in frustration.

“Or at least you wrote down what we said,” his three-and-a-half-year-old twin brother, Tristan, concurred.

Holly looked around her kitchen table. The four children looked so much alike, with their blond hair, big blue eyes and cherubic little faces, they could have been siblings. Indeed, during the two years she and Travis had lived side-by-side, the preschoolers had spent so much time together they might as well have been.

Which was what made it so easy to deal with them in a group.

“Your daddy and I know that.” Holly took the lead with Travis’s tacit encouragement. Emboldened by his sexy, reassuring presence, she continued affably, “But there’s a problem with what you all asked Santa to bring you. First of all, boys, they don’t make toy space ships big enough for you to climb in, and secondly, toys like that don’t fly.”

“Well, they should,” Tucker grumbled, crossing his arms in front of him.

Tristan stubbornly agreed. “Yeah, how are we supposed to get to outer space if they don’t go up in the air?”

Travis gave Holly a look from the other end of her farmhouse-style kitchen table. “They have a point,” he mouthed.

She ignored him. If Travis made her giggle, it would be all over.

“Second,” she said, even more gently to his little girls, “Santa Claus makes toys at the North Pole, not people, and mommies are people.”

Travis nodded as if to say, Way to go, team!

“But,” Sophie exclaimed, “a mommy is what Mia and I want!”

“Yeah,” Mia echoed. “‘Cause we don’t have one.”

Actually, Holly knew all too well that they’d once had a very kind and loving mother. When she had first moved into this house, two-and-a-half years ago, Travis had just lost his wife. Back then, Diana had been all he talked about. She’d tragically succumbed to a virus that had attacked her heart and killed her in a matter of days.

Eventually, he had come to terms with the suddenness of his late wife’s death. But the loss of the woman he had loved more than life had continued to haunt him—just as Holly’s unexpected divorce had haunted her.

Eventually, things had gotten better. And now life was pretty much back to normal, Holly thought. With one exception. Neither of them was dating, or intended ever to date again.

“The thing is, girls,” Travis interjected quietly, “mommies aren’t brought by other people.”

“Then how do you get one?” Sophie asked, completely flummoxed.

“Generally, the daddy goes out, and finds a wife. When he marries her, she becomes a mommy,” Travis explained.

“Then that’s what you should do, Daddy,” Mia said, as if it was obvious.

“Yeah,” Tucker agreed, waving his arms enthusiastically. “Just go out and find one.”

Tristan nodded vigorously. “There’s lots of them around. We see them all the time at the preschool.”

“Most of those mommies are already married,” Travis said.

“Our mom isn’t!” Tucker blurted out.

Caught off guard, Holly skipped a breath and felt her pulse ricochet. For a second, Travis looked equally nonplussed. But the moment passed, and Travis took command of the room again.

“What I’m trying to say, kids, is that finding a wife is a long process and it’s not something I have time to do today. I’m very busy downtown.”

“Building the Water Tower!” Tucker yelled, excited as always by the thought of bulldozers, cranes and all manner of construction equipment and trucks at the site of Fort Worth’s newest mixed-use development project.

“It’s called One Trinity River Place,” Holly reminded her son gently. And it was quite a coup. Travis and four of his friends each played a role in making the development happen. Grady McCabe had put the deal together. Dan Kingsland was the architect who had designed the three-block-wide, thirty-eight story building overlooking the Trinity River. Travis’s company was handling the construction. Jack Gaines’s firm was installing all the electronic, satellite and phone systems. And Nate Hutchinson’s financial services company was taking up a huge chunk of office space. The rest would be leased out independently. Plus there were retail shops and restaurants going in on the lower floors, and luxury condominiums taking up the top floors. All in all, it was a pretty impressive project. And Holly’d had work there, too. Right now, she was finishing up a mural in one of the restaurants on the ground level.

“Anyway—” Travis looked at all four kids “—the point is it is December 5, and we need to write new letters to Santa, amending what you asked for into something he can actually bring you.”

“You know,” Holly added for good measure, “something he can actually fit on his sleigh.”

“Like new baby dolls,” Travis told his daughters.

“Or the bikes with training wheels that you boys have been wanting since last summer,” Holly said.

The kids shrugged, their excitement clearly dimmed. “Okay,” Sophie said finally.

“That’s what we want,” Tucker agreed with a disgruntled sigh.

“Can we watch the movie now?” Mia asked. “I want to see what Curious George does tonight!”

“Okay,” Travis said. “But just thirty minutes. And then we’re going home and getting ready for bed. School tomorrow.”

The kids scrambled for places on the L-shaped sectional sofa in Holly’s family room. They lined up together, various blankets and stuffed animals on their laps. Travis set up the DVD player. A second later, the soothing sounds of the video about the monkey and the man in the yellow hat started.

Travis came back into the kitchen.

From where they were standing, they could see the kids. But the children had their backs to them, and were all focused intently on the story unfolding on the TV screen.

“Well, I guess that went okay,” Holly whispered.

He nodded, looking just as uncertain as she felt. Probably because every time the two of them thought they had a situation as tricky as this one handled, it turned out to be not handled, after all. Travis gathered up the pizza boxes and the trash sack. “I’ll take this out.”

Trying not to think how cozy domestic moments like this felt, Holly forced herself to concentrate on the minutiae of her life instead. “Would you mind getting my mail while you’re out there?” she asked. “I think I forgot to bring it in after work.”

“No problem. I’ll get mine, too.” Travis headed out.

Holly loaded the dishwasher.

Travis walked back in, a stack of mail in each hand. “You want to get our trees this weekend?”

Holly nodded. It was something they usually did together. It was easier having another adult helping when trying to select, purchase and wrangle a tree on top of the car in a busy parking lot.

“Saturday morning okay with you?” he asked.

“Sounds perfect.” She looked up at him with a smile.

It was funny, Holly mused, how at ease she felt with him. At thirty-six, he bore the perennial tan of someone who spent a great deal of time working outdoors. His dark brown hair was cut in short, casual layers that withstood the elements and the restless movements of his large, capable hands. Like Holly, Travis was a native Texan. He had big ideas, and even bigger goals, and a practical down-to-earth nature she found immensely comforting.

He was also—not that it mattered—a very good-looking man. And quite masculine as well. At six-foot-three-inches tall, he had the big-boned, broadshouldered build one would expect of a construction worker. A ruggedly chiseled face. Dark chocolate eyes that saw more than he ever said.

He dressed nicely, too. At work, he wore Levi’s, canvas shirts, vests and heavy steel-toed boots. The required yellow hard hat. In his off time, the garments he wore were much more expensive. Like the dark brown cashmere sweater he had on tonight, tugged over a T-shirt, with a newer pair of Levi’s. His boots were made of really nice, soft brown leather.

He smelled great, too. Like Old Spice and soap, baby shampoo and man…

“Earth to Holly,” Travis teased in a low sexy voice, abruptly jerking her back to reality. Startled, she met his grin. “Do you want it or not?” he asked mildly, still trying to hand over the day’s mail.



TRAVIS DIDN’T KNOW WHAT was on Holly’s mind.

It wasn’t like her to lapse into daydreams, unless she was working on a mural. Then she was likely to drift off into that creative place in her heart and mind that brought her so much joy.

But when they were just standing around? Talking?

Never.

He supposed it should have been expected, though.

Mrs. Ruley, their shared nanny, could do only so much in the forty hours a week she worked for them. And with both Holly and Travis working full-time, parenting solo, and Christmas coming up faster than a speeding train…

She had a right to be distracted, he thought as he watched her sort through her mail. But not…unhappy. “Holly?” he asked, wondering why her hands were shaking and her face had abruptly gone so pale. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She tore open the envelope in her hands, removed the letter and began to read. Her face paled even more. “Oh, no,” she cried.

Travis glanced at the kids—they were still entranced by the antics of the monkey and the man in the yellow hat.

His hand around Holly’s shoulder, Travis guided her into the mudroom, off the kitchen, where they could talk quietly without being overheard by their brood. “Tell me,” he insisted.

“It’s a letter from Martin Shield, Cliff’s attorney,” Holly said, looking even more distraught.

Knowing this did not sound good, Travis folded his arms in front of him. He kept his voice even and matter-of-fact. “And…?”

Holly swallowed. “He wants to meet with me. He says Cliff wants to ‘revisit’ the matter of custody and visitation of the kids. That we can do it in court, if I wish, but they would prefer to do it less formally, at least initially.”

Talk about a kick in the gut! And at Christmas, no less, Travis thought. But then what could you expect from a heartless investment banker who had walked out on Holly when the twins were just barely a month old? “I thought he relinquished all rights at the time of the divorce.”

“Cliff ceded full custody to me, and waived his rights to visitation. But he is still the twins’ legal father.”

“What about child support?”

“With the court’s permission, Cliff established very generous trust funds for the twins in lieu of monthly child support, and gave me enough money to buy a house and get back on my feet.”

“So it’s not about money.”

“No. He did way more on that score than he had to do. In that sense, he is a very responsible guy.”

“Just not in the personal arena,” Travis muttered.

Holly lifted her chin, as if surprised by the emotion in his voice, just as he was. Although maybe he shouldn’t have been, Travis thought. He’d come to love Holly’s little boys as much as he loved his own children. And he knew Holly felt the same way about his daughters.

He shrugged and followed that with a very sober, searching look. “Sorry, but what kind of bastard leaves a woman with two adorable kids? Asks not to be apprised of their welfare or progress, only to come back over three years later and want to reopen the custody case?”

Holly flashed a wan smile and said finally, in a wry attempt at a joke, “My ex-husband?”

Another silence fell. Every protective instinct Travis had surged to life. “When does the attorney want to see you?”

“As soon as possible.” She released a short, impatient breath and continued to hold his eyes like a warrior princess in battle. “He says if I call his office, he’ll fit me in.”

Travis’s frown deepened. “Are you going to do it?”

“What choice do I have?” Holly grumbled, keeping her voice slightly above a whisper. “I mean, I could hire a lawyer, but I don’t want to do that—I don’t want to go back to court unless I absolutely have to.”

Travis couldn’t blame her for that. What he knew of divorce court, from those who had been forced to appear there, was not pleasant or pretty. And it would be especially unpleasant at this time of year, which should all be about love and joy, hope and giving. “Want me to go with you?”

Holly nearly sagged with relief. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d really appreciate it,” she said, squeezing his hand. “It’ll be a whole lot easier to face this crisis with you at my side.”




Chapter Two


Travis and Holly sat side by side in the elegant law firm reception area. They were ten minutes early and she was a bundle of nerves, wondering what this was all about.

“So I was thinking…” Travis said quietly, in his attempt to distract her while they waited. His arm nudged hers as he bent his head nearer. “Maybe there is a way to give the kids what they want for Christmas, or pretty close to it.”

Jerked out of her reverie, Holly turned to face him. Like her, he was dressed for a business meeting, instead of the construction clothes he normally wore to work. And although she had seen him many times in a suit before, she was struck as always by how handsome and successful he looked.

“What are you talking about?” she blurted, before she could stop herself. “You can’t actually be…you’re not just going to…!”

“Marry?” Travis shook his head, as if even the idea was ludicrous. “Of course not. But I was thinking we could build your boys a wooden spaceship for the back yard that they could climb in.”

“Are you serious?” Holly twisted around fully, her nylon-clad knee nudging his thigh. A tingle went through her at the unexpected contact. Deliberately, she pushed it away.

Oblivious to the awareness suddenly surging inside her, Travis met her eyes. He shrugged his broad shoulders and spoke in a low, mesmerizing tone, “What’s the point of owning a construction company if you can’t do things to help out your own family, or someone else’s?”

True, Holly thought. And it was so like Travis’s generous nature to think of it. They needed to be fair in the gift giving, though. She studied his face, zeroing in on the compassion in his dark brown eyes. “What about your girls?”

Travis grinned, pleased she was thinking about his children as much as her own. “Well, obviously, we’d have to build them something for our backyard, too. I was thinking maybe a little cottage they could play house in.”

“Ah.” Holly smiled. “So although they wouldn’t be getting a mommy…”

“…any more than your boys would be able to actually fly to outer space.”

“But they would be able to pretend,” she concluded.

He nodded. “They’re only little once. And maybe this will take the sting out of not having a mom.”

And whatever was coming next for her sons, Holly thought pensively.

Travis touched her hand, drawing her back to the conversation. The brief feel of skin on skin was as warmly reassuring as his presence. “So what do you think?” he asked softly.

At the thought of how much joy this would bring to their offspring, Holly felt a wave of excitement. She found herself suffused with the Christmas spirit once again. “Can we get it done in time?”

He nodded, confident as ever. “Sure. I’ll have both items built off-site in the warehouse where a lot of our custom cabinetry is done, and then delivered early on the twenty-fourth.”

The first glitch presented itself. “How will we be able to do that without the kids seeing?”

“We’ll keep them busy elsewhere until it’s dark on Christmas Eve, while the delivery is made. And probably also cover the structures with black construction tarp, to ensure they’re obscured from view. We’ll take that off while they are sleeping, replace with large ribbons. And when they wake up the next morning we’ll give them some time to enjoy what Santa left them under the tree, then take them to the backyard for the big reveal.”

“Sounds like a great plan!” Holly exclaimed.

Travis held out his hand for a fist-bump of victory. Holly fist-bumped back.

The receptionist nodded in their direction.

A minute later, they were settled in family law attorney Martin Shield’s private office, which was just as old-money-intimidating as the reception area of the venerable Texas law firm.

“I’m glad you agreed to come in,” said the distinguished, sixty-something lawyer in the two thousand dollar suit. “Cliff would like to keep this as informal as possible.”

Holly’s throat was so tight it was all she could do to get the words out. “What exactly does he want?”

“To see the kids.”

She had been afraid of that. Determined, however, to play it cool, she held Martin Shield’s gaze. “After all this time?” Did Cliff and his attorney not understand how ludicrous—not to mention selfish—this request was?

Cliff’s attorney did not bat an eye. “My client is well aware it’s been three years, five months and two days since he saw the twins.”

Anger surged inside Holly. She had thought the hurt and pain of her ex’s betrayal was well behind them. She wanted it to stay that way. “Cliff voluntarily chose not to exercise his right to visit the boys at the time we divorced—over my objections, I might add.” Back then, she had been desperate for him to do right by his kids.

“Things have changed. He was making plans to work and live in Europe at the time he divorced you. Now he’s in the process of moving back to the United States. His new position is in Connecticut.”

Holly wasn’t surprised to hear Cliff was on the move again. Frequent transfers were part of the process of climbing the investment banking career ladder. Had the two of them stayed married, she would have been prepared to adapt. Since they hadn’t, she was content to stay in Texas and rear her family in the lovely city where she’d grown up. Wanting as much information as possible, she prompted, “So his visit…?”

“Wouldn’t be for another fifteen days,” the attorney stated. “Handled any way you want.”

Despite her effort to play it cool, Holly tensed. “And if I don’t agree?” she asked in a brittle voice.

The esteemed attorney was ready to play hardball. “Clifford Baxter wants to see his sons. Legally, he has every right to do so.”

Holly said nothing. She was so furious at her ex’s mixture of presumption and disregard for their children’s feelings in all this that she didn’t trust herself to speak.

Abruptly, Mr. Shield became conciliatory. “My client is just asking for a couple of hours one afternoon. He wants to see his children, get an inkling of the little men they’ve become.”

Holly knew if she fought this, they’d end up in court. The result would be the same. Cliff did have every legal right to see his children. It was only a question of how, where and when. Making the process difficult for him would only make it tough on her kids. They had been disregarded enough already. “All right,” she conceded at last. “Two weeks from Saturday, Cliff can see the children in my home, under my supervision.”

“I will be there also,” Travis interjected.

Holly looked at him. Feeling as if she could drown in his empathetic eyes, knowing it would be all too easy to depend on his inherent kindness even more than she already did, she nodded her assent.

The lawyer’s brow furrowed. “And your relationship with Ms. Baxter is what exactly?” he prodded.

“A friend,” Travis replied, then reached over to squeeze her hand. “A very good friend.”

“WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT?” Travis asked, after ten minutes had passed and Holly had yet to say a word about what had gone on. Instead, she appeared deep in thought. A little sad. And a lot worried.

“I don’t think so.” She forced a smile as he parked next to the Carson Construction trailer that served as his private on-site office.

Travis got out of the Expedition and watched as she did the same. Damn, but she looked good today, in that feisty “I can handle anything that comes at me” way…

Not that he should be noticing, given the fact that their relationship was strictly platonic, he reminded himself sternly.

She strode purposefully to her minivan, released the latch and removed a garment bag from the cargo area. Her knee-length skirt and high heels seemed out of place in the dusty, rough-paved parking area.

He tore his eyes from her spectacular legs and visually instructed all the other workers in the area to do the same. “Need a place to change clothes?” he asked casually.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” She ran a hand down the skirt of her sexy, cardinal-red business suit. “I can’t really paint in this and I’ve got to finish the mural at the restaurant. I promised them it would be done today.”

He moved ahead of her to open the door. She took the two concrete steps into the mobile office that served as his command center. In the front room was a desk, drafting table, phone and several computers.

In the middle was a long table and chairs. Behind that, a private bath, complete with shower and a closet where he kept extra clothing.

“You can change in the conference room,” Travis said. “I’ll stand guard to make sure no one comes in.”

“Thanks.” She shut the door behind her.

Travis shrugged out of his suit coat, sat down at his desk, pulled up his e-mails. Made a few phone calls. Accepted a few more.

And still no Holly.

Wondering what was keeping her, he got up and went to the door. Rapped lightly. “Holly?”

There was no answer. Feeling his heartbeat picking up, he rapped again and spoke louder. “Everything okay in there?” Again, no answer.

So there was only one thing he could do.



HOLLY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT was wrong with her. She could not stop crying. And she had been trying for nearly ten minutes now.

Grabbing a hand full of Kleenex from the box on the bathroom counter, she opened the door and was startled to see Travis standing on the other side. Tall and indomitable, he sent her a brief, telling look that spoke volumes about his inherently understanding nature. The emotion still building inside her took another giant leap. “I thought this might happen,” he said gruffly.

The next thing she knew his arms were around her. Her head was on his chest, and the sobs she’d been holding back came out in harsh, ugly sounds that had been years in the making. And still they came—on and on and on, until she thought she would die of embarrassment.

Through it all, Travis simply held her, moving one hand over her spine, threading the other through her hair, the action as comforting as his presence.

Until eventually she did stop crying.

And feeling all the more mortified, she stepped out of his arms, only to bump her hip into the bathroom counter.

She started in surprise and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Red puffy eyes, redder nose and quivering chin. The distressing sight of her weakness was enough to make her tear up again. “Lovely,” she said with disgust. She knew she couldn’t afford to let her defenses down for one instant when it came to ensuring her children’s well-being. Like it or not, she was all they had.

And as for this sudden interest of Cliff’s—every maternal instinct within her said it wouldn’t last. But it would certainly cause havoc in the meantime…

Travis put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face the mirror again. “Yes,” he said simply, clearly meaning it, “you are lovely—even now. And you’re also distraught. And I think it’s high time we talked.”

Holly preferred to handle her problems all by herself, but she also knew she couldn’t shoulder such a pressing burden without talking to someone. And since Travis was her best friend, and most frequent companion, he was the likely choice.

He took her by the hand and led her back into the conference room, and to a chair. He pulled up another, so they were sitting across from each other, and waited patiently.

Glad she had Travis to lean on, she said finally, “I’m afraid Cliff has realized what a mistake he made when we divorced, in voluntarily ceding full custody to me.”

“Why did he do that?” Travis asked gently, covering her hands with his.

Holly shrugged, aware she never talked about this. It was just too humiliating. She leaned toward Travis’s warm and strength, and turned her palms upward, so their fingers were loosely entwined. “Cliff said he realized he was not cut out to be a father, and he wasn’t going to pretend to be interested in the kids when he just wasn’t.”

Incredulity mixed with the concern on Travis’s face. He tightened his grip. “How old were they?”

Holly sighed, remembering that awful time in her life. “Tucker and Tristan were four weeks old the day Cliff told me he wanted a divorce, and walked out. They were four months old when the divorce was final.”

Travis released his hold on her, sat back. “That’s fast.”

She shrugged and kept her voice matter-of-fact. “He wanted out. He went to the Dominican Republic.”

Travis searched her face, finally settling on her eyes. “And since then?” he asked quietly. “Any other flickers of interest from him?”

“No. I haven’t heard a word. He’s never expressed the slightest interest, and given how he felt about Tucker and Tristan—” Holly felt her chin begin to quiver again, as she focused on the deficit of love her sons had received from their biological father “—I was relieved. They’re such great kids.”

“They deserved a hell of a lot better,” Travis agreed brusquely.

“Yes.” Holly thought about what this could to do to her happy-go-lucky kids, if it was handled the wrong way. “They do deserve a whole lot better!” She suddenly pushed herself out of the chair and began to pace. “Which makes it all the more bewildering. I don’t understand why he’s doing this.”

Travis rose, too, and caught up with her. “Maybe he realizes he made a mistake in letting you-all go.”

Holly scoffed in response. “I don’t think so.” She shut her eyes, aware she was near another onslaught of tears. “Oh, Travis,” she whispered miserably. “What if he wants to take the kids away from me?”

Travis embraced her again. “He’s not going to do that.” He silenced her protest with gruff certainty. “I’m not going to let him.”

Gratitude mingled with the overwrought emotion inside her. Holly held him tighter, needing him—his steady male presence and enduring friendship—as never before. And that was when it happened. She saw him the way she would have seen him, when she’d first moved into the house next to him, had she not been so overwhelmed with responsibility and mired in grief over her failed marriage. In that instant, she saw him not as the single dad next door, but as the wonderfully virile, exciting, incredibly principled and loving man he was. Desire swept through her, more potent than any spark she had ever felt before.

At that moment, something wonderful and mysterious shifted in his eyes, too. And then suddenly his mouth was on hers, and the unexpected embrace robbed her of breath and the will to resist.

Holly had never imagined what it would be like to stand wrapped in Travis’s strong arms, her body flush against the hardness of his. Now that it was happening, now that he was actually kissing her, it seemed unreal. And yet utterly amazing and satisfying in a way she never could have fathomed.

For starters, Travis tasted so good, in a way that was unique to him. His lips were soft and tender, the sweep of his tongue evocative and warm, as he brought her back to life, reminding her of all that had been missing for years now in her celibate existence.

And, unbeknownst to her, she evoked the same feeling in Travis.

When he had walked into the conference room, he hadn’t meant to do anything but give Holly the emotional support she needed, friend to friend. He knew she was upset, and deservedly so. He hadn’t expected to find her crying as if her heart would break, hadn’t imagined how simultaneously devastated and protective he would feel as he came to her rescue. He hadn’t counted on how right it felt when he instinctively pulled her into his arms to comfort her. Or considered how the aching vulnerability in her eyes as she reached out to him would change everything he felt, too.

The boundaries they had painstakingly put in place from the moment she’d moved in next door had instantly dissolved.

The blinders were off. He saw her as the vital, passionate, loving woman she was, and the feel of her soft, slender body in his arms sent a charge roaring through him unlike anything he had ever felt. Her tremulous sigh, the sweetness of her scent, the surrender of her soft lips all combined to further fan the fire. With just one kiss—long, sweet and sultry—his whole world turned upside down. Yet never had anything—or anyone—ever felt so right.

Which was why he had to stop it now, before any further boundaries were crossed, and they compromised their current relationship. Shaken to the core, he lifted his head and forced himself to let Holly go. Trembling, she stepped back, too, regret in her eyes. Without another word, she picked up her garment bag and purse. Head down, eyes averted, she rushed for the door.

And Travis knew he had moved way too fast, and in doing so, might just have put everything he held near and dear in jeopardy.

“ARE WE GOING TO TALK about this?” a familiar male voice asked five hours later.

A tingle went down Holly’s spine. She kept right on painting the last little bit of detail of the piazza mural on the wall of the Italian restaurant. “I don’t see why we should.”

Travis strolled nearer, looking incredibly masterful in his work clothes and yellow hard hat. “Because if we don’t, that kiss will always be the elephant in the room. And I for one don’t like living in a zoo,” he drawled.

His lame attempt at a joke eased the tension between them somewhat, as he had to have known it would. Holly sighed and put down her paintbrush. She flashed him a sassy smile she couldn’t really begin to feel, considering the mess they were in. “You really want to know what I think?” she asked softly.

Looking as if he had all the time in the world, Travis perched on one of the sawhorses. “I really do,” he replied, an emotion she could not clearly define in his dark brown eyes.

“Okay.” She wiped her hands on the rag tucked into the belt of her jeans, feeling her cheeks flush at the distinctly male satisfaction in his smile. “My defenses were down because I was clearly out of my mind this morning with worry.”

He paused, clearly caught off guard by her revelation.

Holly pushed on, determined to be honest. “I don’t blame you for kissing me—given the way I was acting. Like I wanted you to ride to the rescue.”

Another loaded silence fell between them.

Holly paused to lick her suddenly dry lips. She didn’t know how he could look so cool, calm and collected, when she felt so frazzled.

She stepped closer so they were toe to toe, then forced herself to go on with the speech she had been mentally preparing all afternoon. “I can see why you would have thought…”

She watched as he rubbed a hand across his closely shaved jaw.

“Hell, for a moment, I thought…may be…” She pushed away the memory of that mind-numbing kiss. Ignoring his slow, sexy smile, she swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat and continued sternly, “But you know as well as I do that it would be wrong for us to go down that path. Especially this time of year.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What do the holidays have to do with this?”

Holly pivoted and moved back to the sawhorse opposite him. “You know how a lot of people get all excited and go out and buy puppies at Christmas to give as gifts?”

He nodded, skeptically.

“They think they want a puppy and are prepared for one—and at first it really is great having one around. But before you know it, the puppy gets a little older and…”

“Poops on the floor?” He wryly guessed at where she was going with this.

Holly rolled her eyes, aware he had just broken her train of thought, which was perhaps his purpose. “All silliness aside, you know what I mean,” she persisted, determined to make her point. “What seems like a great idea when you’re all caught up in the spirit of the holidays often loses its luster after December 25.”

“I would buy that theory.” He gave her a long, steady look. “Except for one thing.”

Determined to hold her ground, she folded her arms in front of her. “And what’s that?”

Triumph radiated in his smile. “You weren’t enthralled with the Christmas spirit at the time we kissed.”

We kissed. A thrill went through her at just the memory…She lifted her chin and put a practical spin on their disturbing lapse in judgment. “My being worried that my ex is going to ruin the holidays with his machinations is more or less the same thing. Whatever Cliff is trying to do put me in a highly emotional state! I turned to you without thinking about the impact this could have on our lives.”

He lifted a discerning brow. “And now that you are thinking about consequences?” he challenged.

She let her glance drop to his broad shoulders and sinewy arms. “I don’t want to lose our friendship or complicate our lives unnecessarily, because you know as well as I do that sex changes everything.”

“So you want me to forget kissing you again.”

Was that disappointment in his low tone? And in her heart? Could she afford to fall victim to these feelings? Especially when she knew romance was based on the illusion of perfection, and that the illusion could never last, when confronted with the wear and tear of everyday living and familiarity.

Once again, Holly let her common sense take over. “Yes, I do,” she reiterated. “For both our sakes.”

Travis was quiet a long time. His expression remained maddeningly inscrutable. Finally, he stood and said. “The last thing I want is to upset you or give you any more trouble than you have at this moment. So whatever you want, whatever you need—” he paused and looked into her eyes “—let me know. And I will be there for you. No questions asked. No holds barred.”




Chapter Three


Once a week, the principal players in One Trinity River Place met for lunch. The meeting always started with business matters that needed to be handled, and ended with more personal conversation among the five longtime friends.

“I see why you’re concerned,” Grady McCabe told Travis over lunch the next day.

“We all are,” Dan Kingsland agreed, cutting into a steak.

“None of us want to see Holly hurt,” Jack Gaines said, with typical overprotectiveness where women were concerned.

“And it certainly sounds like that’s what her ex has up his sleeve,” Nate Hutchinson agreed.

Travis forked up some salmon. He trusted the guys to be objective, in a way he couldn’t be in this particular situation. “So none of you think I’m overreacting here?” Letting my emotions get in the way of sound judgment and common sense?

“It’s not that Holly needs protecting, per se,” Grady—the first of the four single dads in the group to marry again—murmured.

Dan, who had also recently found the love of his life, nodded in agreement. “Ninety-nine percent of the time Holly can handle herself just fine.”

“It’s the one percent we worry about,” Jack said.

“And I have to wonder,” Nate continued, with the cynicism of the only bachelor in the group, “what has happened to make Cliff Baxter suddenly change his mind about seeing the kids.”

Grady frowned. “What exactly do you know about the dude?” Grady asked, getting down to brass tacks.

“Not a lot.” Travis looked around the cozy woodpaneled dining room, which was decorated in exclusivemen’s-club style. “Holly never wanted to talk about him.”

“And now?” Jack prodded.

He thought back to the way Holly had cried yesterday—as if her heart would break. How she had nestled against him as he’d held her. And the way she had kissed him back…as if nothing mattered at that moment, except the passion they’d found with one another.

Grady tilted his head. “Has something changed between the two of you?”

Travis worked to keep a poker face. It wasn’t easy. Part of him wanted to shout to the world how mindblowing that steamy embrace had been. The more private part of him knew this was no one’s business but his and Holly’s. His desire to protect her in every way intensified. “What do you mean?” he asked casually.

The guys exchanged looks. Eventually, Nate said, “We always figured…you and Holly are so close…”

“Hell, you’re practically living together,” Grady stated.

Jack added somewhat awkwardly, “We just assumed sooner or later the two of you would start dating or something.”

After that spectacular kiss, Travis had hoped that would be the case. Until Holly set him straight about her own expectations. “I don’t think that’s in the cards,” he said carefully.

“If you say so.” Dan looked unconvinced.

“Holly and I are friends,” Travis said firmly. And he didn’t want anything interfering with that—even their one ill-timed, incredibly sensual kiss. Reluctantly, he forced himself to put the memory of their passionate moment aside and concentrate on the problem at hand. “I want to help her be prepared for whatever is coming with her ex-husband.”

“Then you’re going to have to do your homework,” Nate said. “And find out everything you can about Cliff Baxter and what might be motivating him.”



TRAVIS CANCELED AN AFTERNOON meeting and set up one with the private investigator who handled all the background checks and preemployment screening for his workers.

When she arrived, he ushered Laura Tillman into his on-site trailer. The statuesque redhead was one of the best in the business. If there was something to be found, he had confidence she would get it.

Laura listened quietly and took notes on everything he told her.

“How soon do you want the information?” she asked in a brisk, businesslike tone.

Travis rocked back in his chair, beginning to relax a bit, now that he was taking a more proactive approach to the situation. “As soon as possible. Definitely before he comes to Fort Worth to see the kids.”

“Does Holly know you’re doing this?”

Guilt filtered through Travis. “No. And I’d prefer she didn’t find out.”

Laura fell silent, considering all the angles. “This could backfire on you, you know,” she warned.

Travis turned his attention to the Christmas pictures Sophie and Mia had colored for him at preschool. Next to those were a couple from Tucker and Tristan. “I know.”

“But?”

“I want her to be prepared. And this isn’t the kind of thing she would do on her own.”

“Whereas you have no scruples,” Laura teased.

He had guilt, all right. Plenty of it. It wasn’t like him to go behind Holly’s back. He wished he didn’t have to do it now. “In this case, the end justifies the means,” he stated.

Laura put her notebook into her carryall briefcase. She paused to study him. “You really care about Holly, don’t you?” she mused.

Warmth filtered through him at the acknowledgment. “Of course.” He forced himself to be practical. “We’re friends.”

Laura lifted a skeptical brow.

“Just friends,” Travis repeated, as much to himself as to the P.I.

“Mmm-hmm.” Laura grinned, still not buying his denial. She stood, all business once again. “I’ll call you as soon as I figure out what’s going on.”

“Thanks.” Travis circled around his desk.

He and Laura were nearly to the exit when the door opened, and Holly walked in. “Oh!”

Travis thought he saw a fleeting glimpse of jealousy in her eyes. Aware that he had jumped to conclusions about the depth of her interest in him the day before, and been wrong, he pushed the tantalizing notion away.

She smiled and tucked a strand of long, golden-brown hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know you were busy.” Her tone was casual.

Trying not to notice how great she looked in her loose blue chambray painting shirt, snug-fitting white T-shirt and jeans, Travis welcomed her in with a matter-of-fact smile. “It’s okay. We’re finished.” Thank God.

“Hey, Holly,” Laura said, smiling as well.

To Travis’s relief, the private investigator looked as innocent as the day was long as she headed for the exit.

“Hey, Laura,” Holly said, just as nonchalantly.

The two women exchanged easy glances and then Laura slipped out, closing the door behind her.

Travis drank in the alluring, feminine fragrance of Holly’s perfume as she neared. Putting a damper on his reaction, he forced himself to focus on the reason for her unexpected appearance. He searched her aquamarine eyes. “Everything okay?”

She nodded, but he could tell from the excessive ease in her manner that she was putting on an act for his benefit.

Her next smile was even more maddeningly aloof. “I just wanted to see if we were still on for Christmas tree shopping tomorrow,” she said.

Travis pushed aside his remorse, at having gone behind Holly’s back to protect her and the kids. He focused on the weekend, and the fun they usually had together,

instead, reminded of what a good team they made. “Absolutely. The girls and I are looking forward to it.”

Holly continued looking at him, her expression becoming inscrutable. “Okay,” she said finally, backing out with a shrug. “I’ll see you then.”



THE WORST HAD HAPPENED, Holly thought to herself as she drove home that evening after work. Travis had kissed her—and she had kissed him back—and now he was acting weird around her, when all she wanted to do was move forward as if nothing had happened.

Fortunately, she had the evening to pull herself together.

She did two loads of laundry, changed the sheets on her bed. Then spent the night alternately worrying about what Cliff was really up to and obsessing over the kiss that should never have happened.

She awakened early, dreaming about Travis’s soft, sure lips, her pillow clasped tightly in her arms.

Telling herself to get a grip, she rose and headed for the shower.

She had just walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the boys when the phone rang. Caller ID said it was the man who’d never been far from her thoughts. Smiling despite her worries, she picked up the receiver.

“Help,” Travis said, his husky baritone a balm to her ravaged nerves. He whispered into the phone. “I’ve got a blueberry muffin emergency.”

He sounded so distressed, Holly couldn’t help but chuckle. “A what?”

“Just come over here.”

Finally, it seemed, they were back to normal. “I’ll get the boys and be right there,” Holly promised.

Tucker and Tristan were delighted to be going next door, so it was no problem to get their jackets on and hustle right on over. They slipped through the back gate of Travis’s picturesque cottage-style home.

Like hers and most of the others in the neighborhood, it was approximately three thousand square feet, and was filled with overstuffed sofas and chairs upholstered in kidfriendly fabrics, plus sturdy wood furniture. The rear of the house had sunlight streaming in the many windows, lighting up the large open area that was kitchen, breakfast room and family room combined. Next to the carpeted play area, where Mia and Sophie were busy with a big box of building blocks, an armoire held a flat-screen television. Instead of a coffee table, there was a long, rectangular ottoman that opened up for storage. The large fireplace took up most of one wall, and matched the collage of charcoal and light gray stone on the outside of the house.

Tucker and Tristan said a distracted hi to Travis as they struggled out of their jackets, then made a beeline for the girls.

“So what’s going on?” Holly asked.

Travis looked great in a soft evergreen pullover and jeans. Wool socks and handsome suede moccasins covered his feet. He waved her to the kitchen, nicely outfitted with white cabinets, speckled black granite countertops and pale gray walls. He turned on the oven light and opened the door slightly so she could peer in.

“Are you cooking biscuits or muffins?” Holly murmured, noting the specks of blueberries poking through the pale, rubbery looking dough.

“Muffins!” Travis said in frustration. “The girls wanted them, and we didn’t have any boxed mix. But we had blueberries, so I got out the cookbook and decided to make ‘em from scratch.”

Holly checked out the recipe, which looked fine. She looked at the ingredients spread out on the counter, spotting a familiar yellow box, but no can. “Did you use baking soda or baking powder?” she asked.

Travis hesitated.

Realizing how rarely he looked uncertain about anything, she smiled.

“There’s a difference?” he asked.

Oh, yeah. Holly moved closer and kept her voice low as she instructed, “Show me what you used.”

He handed her the baking soda.

She peered into his cupboards, which were as familiar as her own, and pulled out a small red can. “This is baking powder. This is the leavening agent you put in cakes and muffins to make them rise.”

“Oh.” He went to back to check the muffins, which were looking sicker and paler and more rubbery by the moment. “So now what?” He scowled, considering, then turned back to face her, his arm nudging hers in the process.

Warmth filtered through her at the brief, accidental contact.

While she savored the sensation, Travis concentrated on the mistake he had made and the dilemma at hand. “Do you think it would help if we sprinkled some baking powder on top of the muffins or stirred some in?”

Holly shook her head, sorry to deliver the bad news. “Not at this point in the baking process.”

“Daddy, we’re hungry!” Sophie declared.

“Are the muffins ready?” Mia asked, looking hopeful, hungry and excited all at the same time. “Tucker and Tristan want some muffins, too!”

He shrugged. “Well…?”

Holly took the oven mitt from him, reached past him, hit the off button on the control panel and took the muffin pan from the oven. “Get your shoes on, kids!” she instructed.

Travis read her mind and went to get jackets for all. “We’re going out for breakfast today!” he announced cheerfully.

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Holly and Travis were seated at a hard plastic table, enjoying their premium coffees and apple Danish pastries, while the kids—who had downed their own breakfasts in record time—climbed on the indoor playground. “You see, for every culinary disaster there’s a silver lining,” Holly teased.

Travis exhaled in frustration, still a little embarrassed by the mistake that had brought them here. He shook his head wryly. “I really thought I had it this time.”

She reached over and gave him a friendly pat on the arm. “You almost did,” she told him with a smile.

Travis shot her a level look. “If I built buildings the way I follow recipes,” he acknowledged dryly, “I’d be in big trouble.”

Holly held up a slender hand, cutting off his self-deprecating remarks. “You’re a very capable man.” She paused and wrinkled her nose at him playfully. “You just can’t cook anything that doesn’t come out of a box or a jar or a plastic bag.”

Travis waved at the kids, who were peeking through a mesh safety barrier at them, then turned back to Holly. “You do it with aplomb. So do a lot of other single parents—men included. My friend Jack, for instance, is an excellent cook. Jack’s daughter loves his cooking, the more gourmet the better.”

Holly’s eyes sparkled as she met his gaze. She leveled him with a look of her own. “First of all, it’s not a competition, between you or me and you and Jack or anyone else, okay? You parent in your own way, just as I do, and furthermore—” a self-conscious pink crept into her cheeks “—you’re a fantastic dad.”

Looking at her determined expression, Travis could believe it. Still, he didn’t like falling short in any category, and that went double when it came to anything pertaining to his kids. “Maybe I should take some cooking lessons,” he murmured.

“You really want to do that?” Holly looked surprised.

A little irked that in some ways she knew so little about him, and what made him tick, Travis tapped the center of his chest and countered, “What? Are you worried I’ll flunk out of the class or something?”

“No. Of course not. I just didn’t think you’d have time for something like that right now, with the holidays and the Trinity River Place project. And isn’t there something else you fellows are bidding on?”

Travis nodded. “A steering committee was just formed by some of the city’s leading philanthropists. They want to build a new opera hall if the funds can be raised, and we want to be ready if the project comes to fruition.” He paused. “And speaking of business, what’s on your schedule for the next two weeks, now that you’ve finished the restaurant mural?”

“Next week I’m doing murals for three exam rooms in a new pediatrician’s office. And a nursery mural for Grady and Alexis’s new baby after that, although I’m still waiting for Alexis to okay the design. We’re supposed to meet at her office next week.”

“You sound busy, too.”

Seemingly as reluctant to break up the cozy tête-à-tête as he was, Holly glanced at her watch. “Which is why we better get a move on if we want to get both our Christmas trees up and decorated today.”



SIX HOURS LATER, THE trees were up and twinkling in both their family rooms. Dinner and dishes were over. It was breaking up the four kids that was proving to be the problem.

“I don’t want to go back to our house, Daddy,” Sophie said with a pout.

“Me, either.” Mia stamped her foot. “I want to stay here with Tucker and Tristan and Holly.”

“You all need baths and pajamas,” Holly decreed.

“Why can’t they take their baths here?” Tucker asked.

“Yeah, they’ve done it before, plenty of times,” Tristan argued.

Holly looked at Travis. He, too, seemed to be wondering if this was a battle worth fighting. Suddenly, wordlessly, they were in agreement. “Okay,” he told the four kids. “You all can have your baths here, but they’re going to be quick ones tonight.”

“And then we get to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas together like you promised!” Sophie reminded him.

They had promised, Holly recalled. Hours ago. When they’d had no idea how long it would actually take to do all they had done.

Travis lifted his hands in surrender. A promise was a promise…

“Okay.” Holly relented, too. She and Travis exchanged empathetic looks before she continued. “And then everyone is going to go to sleep in their own beds.”

“Are we going to get new Christmas pajamas this year?” Tucker asked, once all four kids were back downstairs again, getting settled on the sectional sofa.

“Yeah, ones that match!” Tristan said.

“Of course,” Holly replied. That was one wish that was easily granted.

Travis looked at her with a question in his dark eyes. “It’s a family tradition,” she explained. “The kids get new pajamas on Christmas Eve and wear them to open their presents Christmas morning.”

“Well, we want to do that, too,” Mia said.

“Yeah, and we want ours to look just like Tucker’s and Tristan’s,” Sophie added.

Holly had no earthly idea what to say to that. For one thing, boys’ and girls’ pajamas were usually quite different in color and style. And Travis’s daughters favored pink!

“Can we?” all four kids said at once. “Please…can we?”

Yet again, Holly looked at Travis. And once more, he took the lead. “Sure,” he said, turning on the TV. The video started, and all four kids fell silent.



“DO YOU EVER THINK our families are a little too integrated?” Holly asked, when the two of them had retired to the kitchen.

Travis watched her spoon fragrant decaf French roast coffee into a paper filter. Like their kids, he found himself wishing the evening would never end.

Aware that Holly had paused, waiting for an answer, he said adamantly, “No. I don’t think our lives are too enmeshed.” In fact, there were nights—long, lonely evenings like the night before, when they each did their own thing with their own kids—when he wished they were more entwined.

Holly set the coffee on to brew, then turned around. She lounged against the edge of the granite counter, her hands braced on either side of her, and searched his face. “You never wonder what will happen if one of us moves away?”

Travis moved so they were a foot apart, and his arms folded in front of him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He thought of Cliff’s sudden reappearance in her and the twins’ lives. Uncertainty made him tense. “Are you?”

Her expression said that was a ridiculous question. “Well, no…”

Travis shrugged and held his ground. “Then it isn’t an issue,” he said flatly, wondering when things had gotten so personal between the two of them.

A pulse throbbed in Holly’s throat. “It could be if you started dating someone.”

“I’m not interested in remarrying. You know that.” Or at least, Travis amended silently, he hadn’t been until he’d kissed her. That had opened up such a realm of possibilities he no longer knew what the future held. Except for one thing. The woman next door. His best friend. “Are you?” he persisted.

“No,” Holly answered, just as quickly and resolutely. Her soft lips compressed stubbornly. “I decided long ago that’s not in the cards for me, either.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Travis asked softly, wondering what suddenly had her so on edge.

Holly winced and rubbed her temples. “I don’t know.”

Travis was pretty sure she did know—but didn’t feel comfortable sharing all her concerns with him.

Looking as if she wished the conversation had never started, Holly shrugged off her melancholy mood and moved away from him toward the family room, where the TV was flickering. Her tender smile turned into a quiet laugh and a shake of her head. She put a finger to her lips, then motioned for him to join her.

He walked over. From where they stood, they could see over the top of the sectional sofa. The video had barely gotten started, but all four kids were sound asleep, lying snuggled up to each other like a pile of snoozing puppies.

Travis chuckled, too. “I’ll have to carry them home and put them to bed,” he said.

Holly tipped her face up to his. Once again, she looked so content. His heart filled with admiration and something else—something sweet and satisfying—he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to identify.

She propped her hands on her hips, obviously as reluctant to spend another Saturday night alone as he was. “Want to have a cup of decaf first?”

He liked the spark coming back into her aquamarine eyes, the generous, easygoing attitude she exhibited whenever they hung out together. A wave of tenderness swept through him, as potent as it was unexpected. “Sure.”

She fell into step beside him as they moved toward the kitchen, both of them reveling in the peace and quiet after a very noisy, tumultuous, busy day. She reached the coffeemaker, then paused to look into his eyes. “By the way, thank you for everything. It was a great day,” she told him softly. “A really great day.”

Happiness warmed his soul. “I thought so, too,” he admitted. And it could be even better if they said to heck with what had been till now, and followed their instincts.

Holly started to speak. Travis didn’t know what she was about to say—all he knew for sure was that it was going to have to wait.



HOLLY SAW THE KISS coming and knew she could have stopped it. All she had to do was put a hand to his chest, keeping distance between them, or turn her head and step back. She did none of those things. Instead, for once in her life, she followed her deepest impulses, which led her straight into Travis’s arms.

When his mouth descended, she wreathed her arms about his neck and went up on tiptoe to meet his lips. Before she knew it, she was lost in a storm of heat and need, tenderness and yearning. He caught her upper lip between the two of his, rubbing it softly, then did the same to her lower lip. Holly responded. Together, they found all the ways their lips could fit together, torment and caress. Until that wasn’t enough, and his tongue slipped inside her mouth, to stroke and play with hers. Warmth swept through her; tingles centered in her middle and spread outward. Lower still, she felt the pressure of his need against her. And the desire welling up inside her, unchecked.

“I thought we weren’t going to do this,” she reminded him, trembling.

“So did I.” He smiled down at her with lazy familiarity. “We thought wrong.”

Travis wrapped his arms around her again, hauled her close and kissed her once more, really kissed her. And this time, when the embrace finally ended, Holly didn’t want to list all the reasons why they shouldn’t be giving in to recklessness and pure, unadulterated physical need.

It was Christmas.

This was a gift.

They really didn’t need to know more.

Except…

A self-conscious flush moved from her neck to her cheeks. “I want you to promise me that if we go down this road, embark on something…casual…that fits our situation…we’ll just go with it, without worrying about all the implications.”

His eyes turned serious and he shifted her closer once again. “Sounds good.”

Panicking a little at the fierceness of her emotions, she pushed him away, drew in a shuddering breath. “But if for some reason it doesn’t work out…” Acutely aware how much was on the line here, she gripped the hard muscles of his biceps urgently. “I can’t lose you.” Her voice caught. “I can’t lose all this…and if our going down this path brings up even the possibility of that…then I can’t.”

Nor could he.

Travis held her eyes with his. Sifting his hands through her hair, he vowed, “Nothing will come between us—I promise you that.”




Chapter Four


A blue norther roared in overnight, whipping up the wind and dropping the temperature twenty degrees in a matter of hours.

The abrupt change in weather mirrored Holly’s mood. She’d gone to bed still feeling the glow of Travis’s kisses, and their decision to let whatever happened along those lines happen.

She had awakened wondering if she’d made the right decision, after all. She had never been the kind of person who acted impulsively or had a fling, never had sex with a friend. So her inclination to do so now was disconcerting, to say the least.

She knew the decision to add passion to the platonic friendship she and Travis shared felt “right” at the moment. Especially since neither of them was interested in dating or remarrying. But how would it feel in two days, two months or two years? She couldn’t help but wonder. Would they one day regret this? Want more? Less? If they eventually had to backtrack, would doing so hurt their friendship, or make their relationship so awkward they would never feel the same in each other’s presence? If so, how would they explain that to the kids?

She was still wrestling with her ambivalence when her phone rang early Sunday afternoon.

“I need to go to the pharmacy to pick up some prescription allergy medicine the pediatrician called in for Sophie,” Travis told her over the phone, sounding so harried her heart went out to him. “I was going to take the girls with me, but I don’t think that’s an option.”

In other words, Holly thought, it was Meltdown City over there.

“Any chance you might be able to come over for fifteen minutes and spot me?”

Glad to be able to help lighten his load the way he often had hers, she said, “Sure. Let me round up the boys and I’ll be right there.”

Tucker and Tristan were delighted by the chance to see “their best friends in the whole wide world.” They promptly got into their jackets and raced across the frigid yards to get to Travis’s front door, where they punched the doorbell with childish vigor.

Holly winced, imagining what that sounded like inside. “I think that’s enough, boys.”

Travis opened the door with an amused grin. Three-year-old Mia had hold of one of his legs. Tinsel decorated her blond curls. She peeked around to greet the boys, squinting her eyes and wrinkling her nose. They did the same back, then all three burst into riotous giggles and raced off.

“I’m coloring!” Mia shouted over her shoulder, as the tinsel she’d been wearing as a crown went every which way. “Want to color, too?”

“Sure!” the twins enthused in unison.

Travis stepped back to let Holly pass, and bent to pick up a few errant strands of silver. “Come on in.”

She grabbed a couple strands, too, and handed them over to him, to be returned to the tree. “Where’s Sophie?” It was unusual for the four-year-old, self-proclaimed leader of the Baxter-Carson posse not to appear at the door, too.

Abruptly, the light went out of his eyes. Travis pressed his lips together in parental concern. “On the sofa in the family room,” he said quietly.

Knowing something was up, Holly stopped midstride and curved a hand around Travis’s biceps to halt his progress. That was all it took to remind her of the kisses they’d shared, and her reaction to them. Forcing herself to ignore the jolt of attraction zipping through her, she concentrated on the problem at hand.

Her back to the breakfast room table, where the three younger kids were madly coloring, laughing and talking all at once, she asked with the bluntness of a close and trusted friend, “What’s going on? I mean, aside from the fact Sophie’s under the weather?”

Travis held Holly’s glance, seeming relieved that she was there. “I’m not sure what’s going on with Sophie. She’s been cranky and glum all day. Part of it is her allergies—I know she’s not feeling good.” He frowned in concern. “But there’s something more bothering her, too.”

It was frequently easier, Holly knew, for children to unburden themselves to someone other than a parent, whom they were often trying to protect. “Want me to see if I can figure out what it is?”

“That would be great,” he told her gratefully. He strode over to the sofa, where Sophie lay curled up on the throw pillows, her favorite baby doll in her arms. He hunkered down beside her and patted her shoulder consolingly. “Holly’s here, sweetheart. So I’m going to take off.”

Sophie’s lower lip curled out and she demanded pitifully, “I want to go to bed, Daddy.”

“All right. I’ll get you tucked in…”

“No! I want Holly to do it.” Sophie coughed until she could barely catch her breath. Her nose ran and her eyes watered. The little girl was clearly miserable, and Holly’s heart went out to her. “That darn cedar pollen,” Holly said sympathetically. “It gets you every year.” And it had been really stirred up by the winds the night before.

“I know.” Sophie sniffed again and lifted her hands, signaling that she wanted to be carried.

Travis hoisted her into his strong arms, and she dropped her head in the curve of his neck. “I want Holly to carry me,” she protested weakly.

Travis shook his head. “You’re too heavy, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Holly promised. Sophie coughed again, harder this time, her congestion evident. “You still have a vaporizer?”

“Yep.” Travis strode down the hall and deposited his daughter on the white trundle bed in her room. He stepped back to let Holly take over. “I’ll get it out for you.”

She drew back the pink-and-white covers, and Sophie climbed beneath them. Holly grabbed a tissue from the container on the bedside table and gently wiped the moisture from beneath the child’s nose.

“You always make me feel better.” Sophie flashed a wan smile.

“Being around you always makes me feel better,

too,” she said with a burst of maternal love. She tucked the covers around the little girl.

Travis came back in carrying the vaporizer, he set it atop the bureau and plugged it in. The muted sound of the motor and a whoosh of cool moist air immediately followed. “That’s going to help you feel better,” he promised. Then he looked at Sophie. “Anything else you want me to get you while I’m at the drugstore?”

“No.” His daughter snuggled next to Holly and held her hand tightly. “I have a mommy to make me feel better. That’s all I need, Daddy.”

SOPHIE’S WORDS WERE LIKE a blow to Travis’s heart, bringing up every anxiety he had ever had about parenting his two little girls on his own. From the look in her eyes, Holly seemed equally taken aback, unsure what to say. Because he had no clue, either, Travis simply nodded in understanding and headed off for the pharmacy.

When he returned twenty minutes later, medicine in hand, the younger kids were still coloring, laughing and talking. Holly was upstairs with Sophie, propped against the headboard, reading to his daughter.

And while his little girl still looked physically miserable, emotionally she was much better off. Feeling a bit frustrated that he hadn’t been able to reassure her himself, Travis measured the medicine in the little plastic cup, stood by while she drank it, then handed her the juice box chaser that would kill the yucky taste of the antihistamine decongestant mix.

“Can Holly spend the night with us?” Sophie asked.

“No, honey, I can’t,” she said, keeping her glance averted from his. “But I can stay a little longer this afternoon if it’s okay with your daddy.”

“It’s great with me,” he agreed, letting his tone tell Holly how much he appreciated her being there, since she still wouldn’t look him in the eye. Probably because she was afraid she’d give too much away if she did. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” he said.

Both of them nodded. Judging by the silence that followed, he would barely be missed.

A half hour later, Holly came downstairs and said hello to the kids, who were now congregated in the family room, busily rearranging all the kid-safe decorations on the lower limbs of the Christmas tree.

She moseyed over to the kitchen, where Travis was sitting. “You doing okay?” she asked softly.




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