A Husband for the Holidays (Made For Matrimony 1) (9 page)

“Of course I’ll stay. I’ll make it work,” she said with far more confidence than she actually felt. They needed her here, far more than they needed her at work. What did that say about her career? “I need to call my boss and make some arrangements.”

Marla grabbed her hands and squeezed tightly. There were tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Darcy. I know—I know there are parts of this that aren’t easy for you.”

Darcy squeezed back. “You’re welcome. It’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about anything but getting Joe back on his feet.” She glanced at the clock. “I’m going to give my boss a call and get this all arranged.” She had several weeks of vacation. Sad to say, she almost never used any of it. She’d convinced herself she loved her job, and she was pretty sure that was true. But more than that, she didn’t have anyone to share the time off with. So really, why bother?

Somehow she’d convinced herself that was okay.

She pulled on her jacket and shoes and grabbed her bag. It’d be easier to do this in the car, without anyone overhearing. She pulled out of the tree farm and drove the little way into town, where she parked in the diner parking lot—she’d noticed earlier her phone signal was strongest there—and hit Ross’s number on her phone. It was six o’clock in Chicago, an hour behind, but she knew that he’d be there. Sure enough, he answered on the third ring.

“Darcy. Please tell me you are coming back early.” His voice was tense.

Darcy’s heart plummeted and she gripped the phone tightly. “What’s going on?”

He launched into an explanation of how one of her accounts, the one she’d worked so hard to bring in to the company, was teetering on the edge of disaster. Darcy propped her arm on the steering wheel and rested her head on her hand, the urge to scream building like a head of steam. Why hadn’t she been apprised of any of this? Her team was in contact with her, but hadn’t said a word. She cut Ross off. “I’ll call Mally and talk to her,” she said with a calmness she didn’t feel. Ross could be an excellent boss, but if he sensed weakness, you’d be out on your tail before you could blink. She’d seen it happen before. And this was why what she was about to ask was risky. “I need the month of December off, Ross.”

Silence. Darcy stared at the lit windows of the diner. A couple was laughing, framed by Christmas lights. The woman leaned forward to accept a forkful of something from the man. A simple scene. Why couldn’t things in her life be simple? How had she gotten so far off track that she’d lost the simple things?

“You’re joking.” It wasn’t a question. “Your account is going to hell and you’re asking for a month off?”

They got the week between Christmas and New Year’s off anyway, but Darcy wasn’t going to point that out. She kept her voice soothing. The best way to deal with Ross was to stay calm. “My family needs me. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“Your family needs you,” he repeated, and laughed. “Darcy, you never talk about your family. I didn’t know you had one. It’s why you are the perfect employee. You give me—this company—100 percent. Without fail. There’s never any drama with you. It’s as if you are married to the company.”

Tears stung Darcy’s eyes because he was right. It wasn’t a compliment. She’d given far more of herself than she’d ever get back. And Ross would take as much as she’d give and come back for more. She knew this, had always known this. But she’d managed to convince herself it was a good thing.

“I need the time off, Ross. My uncle had a serious heart attack and I need to run the business.”

“What kind of business is that?”

“A Christmas-tree farm.”

A pause, then a bark of laughter exploded in her ear. “A Christmas-tree farm? What the hell do they need you for? Are you going to chop trees in a suit and heels?”

Chapter Nine

D
arcy was taken aback by this view of her. Clearly, she’d been good at hiding her past, at making herself over—too good. Not that her boss should necessarily be her friend, but the whole idea that he thought it was ridiculous nettled her. “Of course not. That’s ridiculous. I grew up here, Ross. I know what I’m doing and they need me to run it.” It was more than a business. It was about traditions, for her family and the families that came to the farm every year. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

She heard the squeak of Ross’s desk chair as he dropped into it. It drove all the employees crazy, that squeaky chair. It was the only thing not full-on chic in her boss’s office. Hearing it now, she realized he must have been pacing in front of the windows overlooking Michigan Avenue. She’d bet he hadn’t noticed any of the Christmas cheer that Chicago put on, or the beauty of the falling snow. She herself hadn’t, not for years, and on purpose. “Darcy. I need you here.”

“I can manage my team from here,” she said, wishing she had room to pace herself, but the wind outside would make conversation difficult. And stomping around in the slushy mess in the parking lot would ruin her shoes. “I’ve been checking in with them periodically. And really, Mally is perfectly capable of handling this on her own, Ross. You know she is.” Darcy had spent much of her professional life putting out fires before they even reached Ross’s radar. Mally needed to do that. Darcy was betting that the account wasn’t that bad at all. Now he was seeing just how valuable Darcy was—in time for her to step away. She couldn’t help wincing. “I’ve got plenty of time to take off. This isn’t a hugely busy time for us.”

It took the better part of an hour, but she got Ross to agree to her time off. She called Mally next and filled her in. Thankfully, the woman was calm and unflappable and very good at what she did. She and Darcy made an excellent team. Mally sounded surprised when Darcy told her she was taking an entire month off, but she didn’t make a big deal of it. “Good for you, showing him work isn’t the only thing you’ve got in your life. He tends to think that’s how it should be. Probably because it is for him.”

Darcy didn’t want to be like Ross, so tied to his company he couldn’t separate out his real life from his work life. But she was well on her way. It made her wonder—for the first time—if something had happened to send him to seek solace in his work. Like what she had done.

She drove back to the house and sat in the driveway for a minute, just looking. The Christmas lights were on, outlining the house and blanketing the bushes. A huge lit wreath glowed on the side of the barn. The tree dazzled in the living room windows. The whole scene was cozy and familiar and Darcy realized how much she’d missed it. Missed being here.

She thought of Mack’s house, the charming bungalow that he’d restored so beautifully. But he had no Christmas decorations up, save a small tabletop tree on the dining room table she’d bet he never used...and she’d double down on the bet that the little tree was his mother’s doing.

They’d lost so much, at the time of year when families were supposed to be celebrating.

They’d lost everything.

Darcy swallowed and gathered up her stuff. She’d assumed Mack would move on. That he, wrapped in the Lawless name and family, would be able to grieve and let go and start his life over, without the specter of his very short marriage and almost parenthood hanging over him. It was a huge part of why she’d run.

No, not run. Running implied she’d been unable or unwilling to deal with things as they’d been. But they’d been too much of a mess to fix. She’d seen that clearly. Leaving had been her last gift to Mack, the only way she could see to make it all up to him. Setting him free of all of it.

But—maybe she hadn’t. And the thought that she’d given up so much for nothing made her feel ill.

* * *

Mack knew he was burning the candle at both ends. Which was why he knew it was a waste of time to stop and grab a beer with Chase. Except Chase was insisting on it and Mack had finally given in.

So he parked in the icy gravel lot of Sloan’s Bar and got out, noting he’d beaten his brother here. He pushed through the heavy door and headed up to the bar, where they always sat. This late on a Tuesday, the place was fairly empty. He sat and smiled at Sally, the bartender tonight.

“What’ll it be, hon?” was Sally’s cheerful greeting. She called everyone hon. He ordered from the tap and waited for Chase. She set the glass in front of him. “You alone or are you meeting someone?”

“Chase,” he answered drily. “He asked me to come.”

“And now he’s late.” Sally smiled. “Big brothers, huh?”

“Yeah.”

He and Sally had graduated together. She had an older brother, too, but he was in and out of jail. Not really the same.

Chase slid next to him then. “Sorry I’m late.” He gave Sally his order and dropped his keys on the bar. “Hell of a day.”

“Yeah?” Mack was more than happy to listen to someone else’s problems. Anything but his own.

Chase explained how he had a supplier that had first sent the wrong kind of shingles, then the correct ones only to realize they had a major defect. Each delay was more of a setback on a project that was running perilously close to being late as well as over budget.

Mack listened sympathetically. Until Chase cut himself off and said, “What’s going on with the tree farm?”

“Going on?” If he played a little dumb, maybe Chase would let him off the hook.

Chase gave him a look and Mack nearly groaned. He wasn’t off the hook.

“Come on, Mack. You’re spending more time there than at your practice.”

Mack folded his arms on the bar and fixed his gaze on the hockey game on the TV across the room. How the hell did he know that? “Joe had a heart attack. You know that.”

“Yeah. And you told me he’ll be okay.”

“He will,” Mack agreed. “But not in time to finish out the season. So I’m stepping in.”

“Stepping in,” Chase repeated. “How does Darcy feel about that?”

Mack took a sip of his beer. “She’s not thrilled.”

“I bet.” Chase dug into the bowl of peanuts that Sally had placed in front of them. “How’s it going? Is she speaking to you?”

“Fine. And yeah. We’re adults, Chase. All that was a long time ago.”

“Mmm-hmm. That’s why you’ve been seen with her around town.”

Mack opened his mouth, then shut it and shook his head. “That’s not your business.”

“When it comes to her, yeah, it is.” Chase’s tone hardened. “She left you. She wrecked your marriage. She wrecked
you
. There’s no way you can go through that again. Hell. No way we can watch you go through it.”

Mack rubbed his unpeanutty hand on his face. “Chase. Let it go. Please. She did what she needed to do.” The words were low in his throat, almost a growl.

“What she needed to do was stick around and see it through.” When Mack’s head snapped around, Chase held up a hand. “She never gave you a chance to see if you could go on. To grieve together.”

No, she hadn’t. And that was something that had bothered Mack for years. Why hadn’t she? Why had she shut down and run? He’d never been able to figure out the answer. “Not your business,” he ground out, and Chase gave him a hard look, then sighed.

“I know. But after last time—”

“She’ll go back after Christmas,” Mack said tightly, and Chase gave a hard nod.

They spent the rest of the time talking about nothing and Mack relaxed. When he went home, he went through the ritual with the dogs and headed for bed, for dreams of Darcy, where she came to him willingly.

But he knew that was all it was—a dream.

* * *

Darcy spent a good chunk of the next day on the phone with her team. The good thing was, Ross’s interpretation of the situation was wrong, which relieved Darcy. Mally had it all well in hand, which she’d already determined from their conversation yesterday. They agreed to stay in touch with emails and calls every other day, unless Mally needed more. Darcy didn’t think she would.

Mack’s truck, which had been there earlier in the day, was gone when she got back to the farm. No doubt he’d gone to his real job.

She wished she could make him see that she had this under control. That while his help was appreciated, she didn’t need him to come every day for ten hours. He didn’t have to give anything up for her. For them. For whoever.

He was stubborn. She knew this all too well.

She dropped her laptop off in the house, got her winter stuff on and trudged over to the barn. They didn’t open until three on weekdays, so she had a little time. She checked the wreath orders when she was in there, and started making another one. They had four due to be picked up today, and a few more the next day. This was a part she’d like to expand. The wreath making, the grave blankets, the garlands, all the piney decorations.

Of course, it didn’t matter now. This was the end of the road for the tree farm, and thinking of ideas now didn’t help. Why hadn’t she made the suggestions before now?

Because you hadn’t known. You should have known.

And that was a loop that had played in her mind over and over since she came back. It was pointless and frustrating. And maybe wouldn’t have made any difference after all. Her aunt and uncle were selling because it was time to move on. Not because of anything she’d done, or not. She couldn’t prevent them from aging or retiring.

But the guilt sat heavily in her chest as she went through the motions of making a wreath.

You should have known.

* * *

“Darcy.” Marla looked up with a smile when she came into the house. Joe sat at the table, still looking pale, but far better than he had been. Recovery was taking a while, but he was getting there.

“How’s it going out there?” Joe’s question was casual, but the slight tension in his body gave away how much he missed being in the action.

“Just fine,” Darcy said. She put the paper with the notes she took in front of him. It had the sales on it and other information he just devoured. It was a kind of unspoken compromise. He’d stay in the house and she’d give him the information he wanted.

Marla held out a carefully packed casserole. “Can you take this to Mack? I told him I’d be by but—” she glanced at the clock “—I’m not going to get over there before my book club comes over.”

Caught, Darcy took the pan. There was no way to say no. “Of course. I’ll get right on that.”

“Thanks,” Marla said gratefully, and untied her apron. “I’ve got about fifteen minutes.”

Darcy was about to ask why she was hosting it, at this time of year, but then she realized of course Marla wasn’t going to leave Joe alone. And her friends would understand that.

She went back out the door to her car and drove to Mack’s. This time, the porch light was on. She parked on the street and went up the front walk. She knocked and realized that she hadn’t asked if Mack knew she was coming.

When he answered the door, his warm smile slipping into clear shock that she was standing there, she had her answer. “Marla couldn’t make it,” she said, holding out the packages. “She ran out of time. So she sent me instead.” This was stating the obvious and she felt a little silly. She was always so off-kilter around him.

He stepped back. “Come on in.”

“Oh, I can’t stay,” she said, and found herself stepping into the warm house anyway.

“I’m sure there’s enough for both of us,” he said wryly. She wondered if it was what Marla had in mind. Now that she thought about it, she wouldn’t put it past her aunt. “Sure,” she said, and took off her coat, then followed him into the kitchen. This house was big for a bachelor. Unless—

“Mack, do you have a girlfriend?”

The question was out before she could stop it. He dropped the silverware he’d just pulled out of the drawer. “What the hell kind of question is that?” He stepped over the pieces on the floor and came over to her, the look on his face completely predatory. “Do you think, if I had a girlfriend, I’d do this with you?” And his mouth came down on hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was an angry kiss, a punishing kiss. A kiss that shot to her soul and flared to life.

She needed to stop it, to push him away. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back, all the hunger and need she’d felt since she came home—probably well before that—pouring out of her. When he backed her into the fridge, she welcomed the hard press of his body, the way his hands fisted in her hair and his mouth plundered hers.

When he pulled back, the loudest sound in the room was that of their ragged breathing. “Does that answer your question?” His voice was rough, and the sound made shivers skip over her skin.

For a moment, she couldn’t recall the question.

“Yes,” she managed, when the fog cleared enough for her to think. “It does.” But it opened up more questions, the biggest one of which was
why?
Why had he kissed her? Why did he still care? Why did she?

Those weren’t questions she could answer. That she
wanted
to answer.

“So I guess I’ll leave you to dinner,” she said, and edged for the door.

He looked at her, his eyes still smoky with desire and want and need. “Running away?”

She stopped, affronted, but couldn’t make herself meet his gaze. “What? No, of course not.”

“Are you sure?” He stepped closer. “You were willing to stay until I kissed you.”

Caught, she just looked at him, afraid of what he might see, of what she wasn’t ready for him to see. Of what she wasn’t ready to admit to herself. She tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll behave,” he said, and the wicked tilt to his mouth made her raise an eyebrow. “Scout’s honor.”

Now she lifted both eyebrows. “Were you ever a Scout?”

“No,” he admitted. “But Chase was.”

“All right,” she relented, and moved back toward the island. She didn’t really want to leave. “Anything I can do?”

He directed her to the glasses and she got out new silverware, placing the pieces that had been on the floor in the sink. It didn’t take long to get the simple meal on the table—and Darcy would bet that her aunt had planned this. Book club, dinner, send her out to run the errand—it had Marla’s fingerprints all over it.