Carolina Man (21 page)

Kate swirled her pink Moscato d’Asti cocktail. She’d never had one before. She was doing all kinds of things she’d never done before, including grabbing a holiday drink with Alisha.

Alisha took a sip of gingerbread martini. “I’m just saying, I’d be happy if Luke Fletcher was coming down my chimney.”

Kate smirked. “Ho ho ho.”

“‘Ho,’ yourself,” Alisha retorted. “So, how often is Staff Sergeant Sexy stuffing your stocking?”

Kate laughed and almost choked on her drink. She swallowed hastily. “‘Stuffing my stocking’? Where do you come up with this stuff?”

“All those long, lonely nights with nothing to do but paint my toenails. You know how it is in this job. Half the guys I meet are deadbeat baby daddies and the other half are junkies. So tell me everything. And give details. I want to live vicariously.”

Kate felt her face heat. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve only seen him a couple of times since the hearing.”

“So, where did you go?”

“We don’t go anywhere. He comes over.”

“Well, that can be good,” Alisha said. “Long, romantic evenings in front of the fire . . .”

“No fire. I don’t have a fireplace.”

“But you’re having hot sex.”

“Amazing sex,” Kate confirmed.

“And now you’re just being smug,” Alisha complained. “So, are you like a booty call? Or friends with bennies? Or what?”

Kate toyed with her orange twist. “We’re definitely friends.”
Friends
was good. She needed more friends in her life. “I don’t want to . . . We’re not rushing into anything.”

“Does he spend the night?”

Kate shook her head. She had been the one to set limits on their relationship. She couldn’t complain if they occasionally felt . . . limiting. “He has to get home to Taylor.”

Alisha picked thoughtfully at the cookie crumbs on the rim of her glass. “Maybe you should go to his place. Then you could fool around after his little girl goes to bed.”

“He says he doesn’t want me to have to drive home alone late at night.”

“Then sleep over.”

“Alisha, you’re a social worker. Are you honestly suggesting we have sex while there’s a young, impressionable child in the next room?”

Alisha grinned. “Honey, how do you think most parents have sex?”

“I’m not Taylor’s mother.”

“But you like her.”

“She’s a wonderful little girl. That’s why I’m trying to protect her. I don’t want her to be hurt. Or disappointed. In case things don’t work out.”

“How can they work out if you don’t give them a chance?”

“Now you sound like Luke.”

“Do I? Good. I was afraid maybe he was the one dragging his feet.”

Kate thought of Luke, laughing, urgent, doing her against the wall of her apartment last night, and a blush worked its way from her toes to her hairline. “No, he’s more the ‘full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes’ type.”

Alisha arched an eyebrow. “Torpedo, huh? And you had problems with ‘Christmas stocking.’”

Kate laughed. Drew her finger through the water ring on the table. “He wants me to come for Christmas,” she confessed. “To his parents’ house.”

“That’s great.”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too soon.”

“Too soon for what?”

“Too soon for me to know how I feel. Certainly too soon to trust how he feels.”

“Honey, it’s obvious how you feel. It’s all over your face.”

Kate felt a jump in her belly that could have been pleasure or panic or acknowledgment. Or all three. “What if I go and it’s a bust?” she blurted.

“What if you don’t go and regret it?”

Kate exhaled shakily. “Is that a social worker thing? Answering a question with another question?”

“Is that a lawyer thing? Not answering at all?”

They smiled at one another.

Kate took a solid gulp from her glass. “We should have done this before.”

“Never too late.” Alisha raised her martini in a toast. “Or too soon.”

“Sneaky,” Kate decided.

“All I’m saying is, you think about it. But if you decide you’re not ready for his family, you come with me to my mother’s.” Alisha reached across the table and patted Kate’s hand. “Nobody should be alone on Christmas.”

 • • • 

N
OBODY SHOULD BE
alone on Christmas
.

Alisha’s words followed Kate home to her empty apartment. Luke’s flowers gleamed white against the gloom, breathing the fragrance of roses and pine into the still, chill air. Kate stood listening to the rain against her windows, but the sound did not fill the silence.

Kate sighed. Maybe she should get a cat.

But it wasn’t Snowball she was missing.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled her phone from her bag and hit
CONTACTS
.

Three rings. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mom. It’s Kate,” she added, even though her name and number must have shown up on her mother’s phone display.

Silence.

Kate swallowed. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, dear.” Brenda Dolan sounded faintly puzzled, as if she couldn’t imagine why her only child would be calling two days before Christmas.

Kate tried again. “How was your drive?”

“Traffic was terrible. Well, you know how it is around the holidays.”

“I’m sorry.” Kate tried to find another, more pleasant subject. “And Aunt Sharon? How is she?”

“Very busy with her family. Everyone is here,” Brenda said. “Julie and Christopher and the children.”

“That’s great,” Kate said, squashing her feelings of guilt. Her aunt had not invited her for Christmas. And Brenda had turned down Kate’s offer to come home, claiming there was no point in cooking a big meal and putting up a tree for just the two of them. She preferred to go to her sister’s, where she could enjoy all the trappings of the holiday without any painful reminders of Christmases past.

“I guess you all have a lot to catch up on,” Kate said.

It was the only verbal cue her mother needed. Brenda launched into the news of her sister’s family, her monologue like one of those Christmas newsletters. Lots of accomplishments, no awkward confessions or messy emotional details. No unpleasantness.

See?
The list said.
I made the right choices in life. I don’t need your pity.

“Mom,” Kate said abruptly.

“Yes?”

“Don’t you want to ask about my day?”
My life
.

“I assume you went to work.”

“Well, yes. I mean, I met with clients today.”

“Breaking up families? Taking children away from their parents? Why would I want to hear about that?”

“Protecting children in abusive situations? Yeah, I can see that wouldn’t be an interesting topic for you.”

An offended silence rolled from the phone.

“Mom. Mom, I’m sorry.”

“I think this conversation is over,” Brenda said with chilly dignity.

“Mom.” The words stuck in Kate’s throat like a hair ball. “I love you.”

“Oh. Well, I . . . Well, thank you, Kate.” Brenda’s voice shook slightly. “I have to go. It’s almost dinnertime. Tenderloin tonight.”

Kate closed her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too, dear.”

Kate sat a long time, gripping the phone. Whatever it was she wanted, she would not get it from her mother. Ever.

You could find substitutes, surrogates, for a mother’s love. But the hope, the expectation, never went away.

And the wound never healed. If your own mother could not love you, who would?

Eventually, Kate ordered herself to move, to put on the kettle for tea, to sort the day’s mail.

There was a Christmas card from the Blakemores, the wronged wife, the cheating dentist, and their three beautiful children, picture perfect in matching holiday sweaters.

Kate sighed. She’d had another tearful phone consultation with Tammy Blakemore this week.
I can’t leave him
, Tammy had sobbed.
Not at Christmas. How would it look? Where would I go?

And so Tammy stayed, letting her fear keep her with a man who did not love her the way she deserved to be loved.

Kate wanted to scorn the dentist’s wife for her decision. But was Kate any better, was she any braver, letting her fears keep her away from seeking love at all? Keep her away from Luke.

Her phone lit up and buzzed on the counter. Kate tensed until she recognized the number.

Her heart lifted. It was Luke. Maybe he was calling to tell her he could get away tonight after all.
Booty call?
Maybe.

Whatever he wanted
, whispered her heart.

Whatever she had it in her to give.

“Hi,” Kate said breathlessly. “Are you coming over?”

“I wish. You coming for Christmas?”

The word escaped before she could catch it. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

She bit her lip. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble. That’s . . . God, that’s great. I’ll tell Mom.”

His response warmed her. “She won’t mind a last-minute guest?”

“Are you kidding? She’ll be thrilled. They all want to get to know you.”

“Oh, God.” A trickle of panic leaked through the warmth. “What should I do? What should I wear?”

“Besides the good underwear?”

“They’re not going to see . . . Luke, I’m serious.” But a smile tugged her mouth.

“It’s casual. We do the whole church thing Christmas Eve, so the day is pretty relaxed. When we were kids, we didn’t even get dressed until lunchtime. We just stayed in our pajamas and played with our toys.”

“Really?” She was fascinated by this glimpse of a family so different from her own.

“Yeah. Unless we got bikes or rollerblades or a new basketball hoop. And even then we put our jackets on over our pajamas.”

A new thought struck her. “Presents. I have to buy presents.”

“Kate, I don’t want you to get clutched up about this. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Right.” She attempted a joke. “It’s not like you’re bringing me home to meet the family.”

“Well, no. That would be dumb.”

Right
. She winced.

“Seeing as you’ve already met them,” he continued. “They already like you. They appreciate everything you’ve done for me and for Taylor. Mom would have invited you even if we weren’t seeing each other.”

A little flush of nerves and pleasure washed through her. “Are we? Seeing each other?”

“Hell, yeah. We’re sleeping together.”

“I meant . . . Exclusively.”

“We’re together,” he repeated. “I thought that was a given.”

Oh, boy
. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Then I’m definitely bringing flowers.”

She might not know the rules of normal family life. But flowers for the mother of the man you were seeing—
exclusively
—seemed like a no-brainer.

“That’d be great.” She could hear his smile.

“Or wine. Do your parents drink wine?”

“Mom’s Italian. Of course they drink wine.”

“And I should bring a gift for Taylor.”

“If you want to, and you have the time to shop, fine.”

“What does she like?”

“I wish I knew.”

“What did you get her?” Kate asked.

“A Wii. And some dance game.”

There was a terse note in his voice that hadn’t been there a minute ago. “That’s a wonderful gift. She’ll love that.”

“Hope so. She played it at some friend’s house.” A pause. “I had to call the friend’s mom to find out the name. I don’t know my own daughter well enough to pick out a damn present.”

This wasn’t, she realized, about the game.

“You’ll figure it out,” she said gently. “The way you did with Dawn’s picture and the cat.”

“You gave her the cat.”

“Because you came looking for it.”
With your big muscled arms and your big generous heart and your tight-lipped determination to be what Taylor needs. How could I resist you?

He sighed. “I’m glad you’re coming for Christmas.”

Her heart jerked. “Are you?”

“It’ll be fun.”

She was no good at fun. She had no idea how a regular family behaved at Christmas.

But he already knew that. He wanted her anyway. Maybe it would be all right.

“So.” She heard the intake of his breath. “How was your day?”

Breaking up families? Taking children away from their parents? Why would I want to hear about that?