Page 23 of All I Want for Christmas

“More than the two hours’ sleep I usually get.”

“You can do better than that.”

“When the kids come downstairs in the morning, and their faces light up, I’ve got all I want.” He stopped in front of her apartment. “Are you going back to New York for the holiday?”

“No, there’s nothing there.”

“Your family?”

“I’m an only child. My parents usually spend the holiday in the Caribbean. Do you want to come in, have some coffee?”

It was a much more appealing idea than going home to an empty house. “Yeah, thanks.” When they started up the stairs, he tried to swing tactfully back to the holidays and her family. “Is that where you spent Christmas as a kid? In the Caribbean?”

“No. We had a fairly traditional setting in Philadelphia. Then I went to school in New York, and they moved to Florida.” She opened the door and took off her coat. “We aren’t very close, really. They weren’t terribly happy with my decision to study music.”

“Oh.” He tossed his jacket over hers while she moved into the kitchen to put on the coffee. “I guess that’s why you got so steamed about Junior.”

“Maybe. They didn’t really disapprove so much as they were baffled. We get along much better long-distance.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I think that’s why I admire you.”

He stopped studying the rosewood music box on a table and stared at her. “Me?”

“Your interest and involvement with your children, your whole family. It’s so solid, so natural.” Tossing back her hair, she reached into the cookie jar and began to spread cookies on a plate. “Not everyone is as willing, or as able, to put in so much time and attention. Not everyone loves as well, or as thoroughly.” She smiled. “Now I’ve embarrassed you.”

“No. Yes,” he admitted, and took one of the cookies. “You haven’t asked about their mother.” When she said nothing, Mac found himself talking. “I was just out of college when I met her. She was a secretary in my father’s real estate office. She was beautiful. I mean eye-popping beautiful, the kind that bowls you over. We went out a couple of times, we went to bed, she got pregnant.”

The flat-voiced recitation had Nell looking up. Mac bit into the cookie, tasting bitterness. “I know that sounds like she did it on her own. I was young, but I was old enough to know what I was doing, old enough to be responsible.”

He had always taken his responsibilities seriously, Nell thought, and he always would. You only had to look at him to see the dependability.

“You didn’t say anything about love.”

“No, I didn’t.” It was something he didn’t take lightly. “I was attracted, so was she. Or I thought she was. What I didn’t know was that she’d lied about using birth control. It wasn’t until after I’d married her that I found out she’d set out to ‘snag the boss’s son.’ Her words,” he added. “Angie saw an opportunity to improve her standard of living.”

It surprised him that even now, after all this time, it hurt both pride and heart to know he’d been so carelessly used.

“To make a long story short,” he continued, in that same expressionless tone, “she hadn’t counted on twins, or the hassle of motherhood. So, about a month after the boys were born, she cleaned out my bank account and split.”

“I’m so sorry, Mac,” Nell murmured. She wished she knew the words, the gesture, that would erase that cool dispassion from his eyes. “It must have been horrible for you.”

“It could have been worse.” His eyes met Nell’s briefly before he shrugged it off. “I could have loved her. She contacted me once, telling me she wanted me to foot the bill for the divorce. In exchange for that, I could have the kids free and clear. Free and clear,” he repeated. “As if they were stocks and bonds instead of children. I took her up on it. End of story.”

“Is it?” Nell moved to him, took his hands in hers. “Even if you didn’t love her, she hurt you.”

She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek, to soothe, to comfort. She saw the change in his eyes—and, yes, the hurt in them. It explained a great deal, she thought, to hear him tell the story. To see his face as he did. He’d been disillusioned, devastated. Instead of giving in to it, or leaning on his parents for help with the burden, he’d taken his sons and started a life with them. A life for them.

“She didn’t deserve you, or the boys.”

“It wasn’t a hardship.” He couldn’t take his eyes off hers now. It wasn’t the sympathy so much as the simple, unquestioning understanding that pulled at him. “They’re the best part of me. I didn’t mean it to sound like it was a sacrifice.”

“You didn’t. You don’t.” Her heart melted as she slid her arms around him. She’d meant that, too, as a comfort. But something more, something deeper, was stirring inside her. “You made it sound as if you love them. It’s very appealing to hear a man say that he thinks of his children as a gift. And to know he means it.”

He was holding her, and he wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. It seemed so easy, so natural, to have her settled in his arms. “When you’re given a gift, an important one, you have to be careful with it.” His voice thickened with a mix of emotions. His children. Her. Something about the way she was looking up at him, the way her lips curved. He lifted a hand to stroke her hair, lingered over it a moment before he remembered to back away. “I should go.”

“Stay.” It was so easy, she discovered, to ask him. So easy, after all, to need him. “You know I want you to stay. You know I want you.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her face, and the need was so much bigger, so much sweeter, than he’d ever imagined. “It could complicate things, Nell. I’ve got a lot of baggage. Most of it’s in storage, but—”

“I don’t care.” Her breath trembled out. “I don’t even have any pride at the moment. Make love with me, Mac.” On a sigh, she pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his. “Just love me tonight.”

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