Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Weaver Christmas Gift\The Soldier's Holiday Homecoming\Santa's Playbook (47 page)

“Didn't happen until later.” Her eyes twinkled. “
Much
later. Like less than a year ago.”

“Get out.”

“It's true. Ethan and Merri, though... Joined at the hip from the time they were fifteen or something.”

“Wow.”

The rest of the egg roll disappeared. “Sabrina and I thought it was all terribly romantic,” Kelly said, chewing. “Well, after we got past being scandalized. What can I say, we were ten. We couldn't even imagine kissing, let alone anything else.” Then, swallowing, she laughed. “Okay, I take that back.
I
couldn't imagine kissing. Bree... I don't even want to know what she was imagining back then.”

Claire smiled. She'd already gathered from Kelly that Sabrina was what her grandmother, now long gone, would've called a “pistol.” She forked in a bite of her own sweet-and-sour pork and asked, “What was she like? Merri, I mean.” When Kelly arched an eyebrow, Claire said, “I have her kid in two of my classes, I'm curious what her mom was like.”

Kelly gave her a “whatever you say, chickie” look, then shrugged. “Blond. Adorable. Very sweet, as I recall. But genuine. I moved away when I was sixteen, after Ethan had left for the marines, but before that I remember him being so...devoted to her. Not like your average teenage boy, that was for sure.”

“So he really was the high school football star?” Kelly shot her a glance. “His dad indicated he was very talented.”

“He really was. Next to Merri, football was his life. Matt played, too—and he was pretty good—but he wasn't consumed by it like Ethan was. He'd even been courted by a couple of major schools. I mean,
major
schools. Notre Dame, Ohio State. Yeah. He was that good. We're talking full-ride scholarships, the works.”

“Then, what...?”

“He decided to go into the marines instead. I have no idea why, although I guess he figured he could still play when his six years were up. Who knows. Except...”

“He got hurt.”

“Exactly. Then Merri turned up pregnant, so they got married...” She shrugged. “I wasn't around, I only know what I've heard from Matt and Bree. All I can say is, though—I've never known anybody able to make lemonade out of lemons like that man. The way he is with his kids... He should give lessons. Seriously.”

“You should hear how his players talk about him.”

“Yeah?”

“I swear, they practically worship the man. I gather he doesn't let 'em get away with crap, but he's always there for them, too. Especially the ones who maybe don't have somebody there for them all the time. Or ever, really.”

Kelly gave her a funny look. “You got a soft spot for the guy?”

“Who wouldn't?” she said, knowing full well what Kelly was asking and honestly not caring. “After everything he's been through... He's something else.”

“Yes,” Kelly said. “Yes, he is....”

Yakking into her phone, Laurel reappeared...but she didn't sit. “Yeah, okay, but it'll take me a minute to get there.” Her voice went all mushy. “Me, too, baby. See you in a few.”

She dropped her phone back into her purse, then consolidated some of her purchases to free up a plastic bag, which she then loaded with her own take-out containers. “Ty and Little Stuff are over at Sears, he needs some tools, or something—Ty, not the baby—so I said I'd meet them, go home from there. That okay with you guys?”

“Sure—”

“Of course—”

Smiling, she leaned over and gave each of them a quick hug, then waved over to Juliette...whose wave back wasn't exactly all happy-happy-fun-fun. Hmm.

“She okay?” Laurel asked.

“I thought she was,” Claire said, then smiled for Laurel. “But you go on, we've got it covered.”

“You sure...?”

“Absolutely,” Kelly said with a sharp nod, even as her eyes darted to Claire.

“Okay...call me!” Laurel said to Kelly before she scooted off like a pack mule on speed. A moment later Claire noticed Juliette glance in their direction again, then get up from the table to dump her trash in the garbage bin, her lower lip quivering.

“Damn,” Kelly muttered.

“Exactly. Should we...?”

“She knows we're here if she needs us. It'll be okay.”

Claire looked at Ethan's sister-in-law, who was finally slowing down with the food consumption. “So how do you know when to stick your nose in and when to let things unfold on their own?”

Her laugh was dry. “Nobody
knows.
We all make it up as we go along. And anyone who tells you otherwise is lying. Also, my kids are ten, three and still inside. I do not know from teenagers. Parenting them, anyway. However, I remember my own teen years vividly—”

Claire sighed. “Don't we all?”

“So sad, right? But from the little I've been around Juliette, I gather she's one of those kids who needs to work out stuff on her own. She's also a lot tougher than I was at that age.”

“Me, too,” Claire said, following the kid's unenthusiastic return to the table, then her short conversation with her friend, who frowned at the oblivious Scott still yukking it up with one of the other guys. After a moment, Rosie nodded, standing to give Juliette a hug before the girl started back toward them. Kelly's eyes cut to Claire's again before she smiled up at Juliette.

“What's up, kiddo?”

“Nothing,” she said with a shrug as she slumped onto the seat beside Claire, her hands stuffed into her vest pockets. Claire nudged the container of egg rolls toward her, but she shook her head. “They want to hit up a lot of stores we already did, so I decided...” Claire saw her swallow before she flashed a fake smile. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm seriously wiped out. You think we can go soon?”

“Of course,” Kelly said, gathering her shopping bags, the leftover food, as Claire did the same. “We've got three more Saturdays before Christmas, plenty of time...”

Twenty uncomfortably quiet minutes later, they were back at the Colonel's, everything transferred to Claire's car so she could take the girl home. As the silence continued, however, after they were once more on the road, Claire finally couldn't stand it anymore.

“Wanna talk about it?”

And the floodgates opened.

“Forget
t-talking
to me, he wouldn't even
look
at me!” Juliette said, scrubbing tears off her cheeks. Mad tears, Claire decided, given both how tightly the girl clamped her arms across her chest and the furious set to her mouth. “What a
jerk!
”

“Well...you were with a large group, maybe he didn't realize—”

“Oh, he realized. He
knew.
” The arms tightened. “He simply didn't want to acknowledge my pr-presence. Never mind that we—”

A chill skedaddled down Claire's spine. “That you what?”

“Nothing.”

“Julie, for heaven's sake—”

“He kissed me, okay?”

“What? When—?”

“Tuesday. During rehearsal, when neither of us were onstage. There's this little janitor's room or something backstage—”

“Yes, I know it. Go on.”

A heavy sigh preceded, “Scott'd been kind of flirting with me all afternoon. During rehearsal, I mean. I thought I was imagining it at first, but Rosie said, no, he was definitely coming on to me, I should totally go for it. Especially since everybody knew he'd broken up with Amber. So he was, you know. Free. In theory, anyway. Then he slipped me a note to meet him backstage....” She pushed out another sigh. “I am
such
an idiot. Because he was only... What do you call that?”

“Using you?” Claire said gently.

“Yeah. And you know what the worst part was? It was my first kiss. So now
that
moment's ruined forever.”

If Claire hadn't been driving, she would have shut her eyes. Since she was, the best she could do was blow out a sigh of her own. Juliette glanced at her, then started gnawing on a hangnail before she caught herself, jerked her hand back to her lap.

“And you don't have to lecture me, I know what I did.... It was stupid. I don't mean kissing him, although that wasn't real bright. I mean, letting him get me alone like that.”

“So...nothing else happened? I mean, he didn't—”

“Nothing. I swear. In fact, I think Scott realized how dumb it was the same time I did. He even apologized. Yes, really. But Dad would still have a cow if he knew.”

“More like an entire herd,” Claire murmured. Beside her, she heard a small laugh. But it wasn't funny, and Claire could only be grateful that it had only been a kiss. Because while in an ideal world boundaries were not only acknowledged, but respected, in the
real
world asshats happened, and boys who should—but for whatever reason didn't—know better far too often mistook vulnerability for opportunity. And, sadly, not to display their better sides.

Even so, Claire said, “Just don't blame yourself for what happened. Because Scott did use you, probably to salve his own ego. No matter what, that was wrong.”

“Duh,” Jules said, digging in her purse for a tissue to blow her nose. “Even so, nobody told me to go with him, to put myself in that situation. Especially since—the other stuff aside—I knew he was still hung up on Amber. I mean seriously, they broke up like five minutes ago....
God
. I'm usually smarter than that. A lot smarter—”

“And do you realize,” Claire said as they pulled into the girl's driveway, “how many times you've put yourself down in the past thirty seconds?”

Juliette's head swung around, her eyes huge. Up on a ladder, Ethan was stringing lights while the boys raked up the last of the leaves. “It's a trap, sweetie,” Claire said. “Making mistakes is how we learn. All of us. Has nothing to do with how smart we are—”

“It's okay,” the girl said, swiping at her eyes. “I'm fine now. Really.”

Of course you are,
Claire thought, cutting the engine. Despite Juliette's obvious need to vent, clearly she wasn't looking to Claire for either sympathy or advice. Then again, she was probably taking her cues from her dad. Didn't take a psychology degree to figure out this was not a family big on exposing their weak spots. Or asking for help.

Which, oddly, rankled a little. Never mind that Claire did not need or want some teenage girl looking to her for answers she sure as hell didn't have. And probably never would. So, by rights, she should feel immensely relieved.

Not...hurt.

Squelching the idiocy, Claire popped the trunk and got out of the car to help Juliette with her purchases as Ethan descended the ladder, outfitted in jeans, a faded New York Giants hoodie and a string of lights. The big, old-fashioned ones now back in vogue.

“Hey, pumpkin,” he said to his daughter, his brow immediately furrowing when she wouldn't look at him as she hauled her bags from the trunk. “Wow. You leave anything in the mall for the other people?”

“Ha-ha,” Juliette said with all the oomph of flat soda, and Claire wanted to say,
If that's how you play “fine,” cutie-pie, your acting skills need work.
From across the street, a boy about the twins' age called over, asking if they wanted to come play video games. Rakes in hand, the guys looked over at their dad, eager as puppies. Ethan waved them off, the rakes clattering to the ground as he returned his gaze to his daughter.

“Wanna help me put up the lights?”

“Actually...I think I'm going to take a nap. The mall totally wore me out.”

“Um...sure, baby. No problem.” But the instant she was inside, Ethan's eyes swung to Claire's. “Kid hasn't napped since she was three. So what happened?”

Maybe Juliette wasn't looking to her for answers, but right now her father was. And wasn't that just dandy? Since being caught in the middle was her favorite place to be. And, based on Ethan's expression, she had approximately five seconds to decide what to do about it.

Although the kiss... That, Claire would keep to herself. For now, anyway. The kid was mad, and her ego had taken it on the chin, but she wasn't traumatized. Those signs, Claire knew. Not from her own experience, thank God, but from classmates, friends. So right or wrong, she was making a judgment call to not send Ethan over the edge about something Claire sure as heck wouldn't have wanted
her
father to know about.

The rest of the story, though, she didn't feel right about keeping to herself, whether it pissed Juliette off or not. Ethan deserved to know as much as possible about what was going on in her daughter's head. Otherwise, how could be the kind of father he obviously wanted to be?

Shivering, she slammed shut the trunk. “You got an extra sweatshirt or something? I could help, if you want.”

“While you talk?”

“You bet.”

He gave her a seriously distrustful look, then nodded. “Coming right up,” he said, disappearing inside, and Claire let out a long, long breath.

Chapter Eight

P
awing through his closet—God knew nothing of Jules's would fit Claire, even though they were about the same height—Ethan irritably mused about how women never thought a guy was sensitive/intuitive/whatever enough to figure out when they were keeping a secret. Granted, the man might not have a clue what the secret was—or, in many cases, the desire or energy to find out—but the signs were obvious, if you knew what to look for.

And Ethan knew those signs, boy. Backward, forward and inside out. Because he'd made it his business to learn them.

Grunting, he yanked out another sweatshirt, giving it a quick sniff test before returning outside, handing it over.

“Thanks,” she said, wriggling it over her vest, then tugging her curls free. She looked absolutely ridiculous. Especially since her legs looked like rolls of gift wrap. Snowmen and reindeer? Really? “Where's the little one?” she asked, folding up the sleeves.

“With Abby, my youngest sister.” He glanced up at the house. “So this will be a surprise.”

“Aw, that's sweet. So tell me what to do.”

“Those lights by the front steps? They need to be untangled. And the longer you avoid the subject,” he said to her Frosty and Rudolph–stamped posterior when she bent over to pick up the wadded coil, “the more I'm gonna assume you're trying to decide which parts of the truth to share. This isn't my first rodeo, you know.”

She stood, shaking out the string. “Although Juliette is your first teenager.”

“That I spawned, yeah. That I lived with?” He shook his head. “Trust me, after Sabrina's shenanigans? I think I can handle Juliette's. As long as I know what I'm dealing with.”

The lights delicately clacked as she shook them a little harder, then squinted over at him. “Is there
anything
you feel you can't handle? That, you know, might be outside the realm of your expertise?”

He felt a flash of...something. Irritation? Surprise? Amusement, maybe? “And why would I admit it if there were?”

“Maybe because it would make you more... What's that word? Oh, yeah.
Human.
”

“Oh, believe me...I'm plenty human.” She bent over again, and the reindeer and snowmen tangoed, and he thought,
You should only know how human I am.
“But I've also got four kids depending on me to be the one in control. The one they can count on.”

The plug end of the string finally freed, Claire set it on the ground and started walking backward, gradually working loose the rest of the lights. “That's a lot of pressure you're putting on yourself,” she said so quietly he almost missed it.

“Only handling what life's tossed in my lap. So. You gonna tell me what's wrong with my little girl?”

“Yeah.” She carefully gathered up the untangled string to set it on the top step. “She's not a
little
girl anymore. She's a big girl. With big-girl issues.”

That spot at the base of his skull? Cramped like a son of a bitch. He glanced up at Juliette's window, then back at Claire. “Meaning...boys?” he said in a low voice.

At least her smile was sympathetic. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

He scrubbed a hand over his head, then pushed out a sigh. “I was hoping for later.”

“You and every other father on the face of the planet.” The tiny diamonds in her ears played peekaboo with her wind-tossed hair as she came closer. “She's gonna hate me for telling you this, but...there's this boy she likes in the play—”

“Who?”

“Never mind, it's immaterial. Yes, it is,” she said to his glare. “Anyway, he had a girlfriend, but they broke up, and I guess Julie thought maybe she had a chance. Except then today—”

“Today? He was at the mall?”

“With all those other kids, yeah. Remember, she called you?”

“Right.” He frowned. “But she didn't say anything about a boy.”

Claire gave him a “oh, you poor thing” look, then said very patiently, “Of course she didn't. Because she knew you'd do exactly what you're doing—”

“But you knew about it?”

“Ethan. Get a grip. We're talking a dozen kids at least. Including Rosie.
Nothing was going to happen.
Except, well... Long story short, said boy totally ignored your daughter. And she took it hard. And
please
don't tell me that was a sigh of relief.”

“You bet it was. She's only fifteen, for God's sake—”

“And
how
old were you and Merri when you first starting going together?”

Heat pricked at his cheeks. “Totally different thing.”

“No, Ethan. It's not. Except that I gather it was mutual between you guys from the beginning. In this case, not so much. Actually, not at all. So you're worrying about nothing. Except the one thing you should be concerned about, which is that your daughter's feelings got hurt today. So be kind.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes at Claire, a trick that usually, and quickly, unearthed any hidden truths the object of his scrutiny might be inclined to hide. But she only lifted her brows and said, “What?”

Cool customer, that Claire.

“So you're telling me she looked like that simply because some dude didn't want to talk to her?”

“Actually, she looked like that because she was mad at herself for being upset that he didn't talk to her.”

“I assume that was supposed to make sense.”

“To anyone with estrogen pumping through their veins, it does. And by the way? If you think for a second I would have
let
anything happen to her, your head's up your butt a lot farther than I thought. What nobody can prevent, though—not even you—is her getting her heart bruised. Even broken. Probably more than once. And yes, I know I've got no business getting up in yours, but tough. Look, I can tell you—and Merri—have given Juliette all the tools she needs to handle whatever life throws at her. But what good are they if you don't let her use them?”

Okay, so maybe
cool
wasn't exactly the right word.

Logically he should be pissed that she
had
gotten in his face, lecturing him on things that were none of her concern. Except, for one thing, she was more right than he wanted to admit. And for another, it took guts to say that stuff. And that he liked.

He liked it a lot.

Still, it seemed prudent to glare at her for another few seconds—you know, to keep things straight between them—before he lowered himself to the small landing in front of the door. “I can't help wanting to protect my kids, Claire.”

“Oh, for pity's sake...” She blew out a breath. “Of course not. You'd be a pretty crummy dad if you didn't. But...”

She sat beside him, her perfume mingling with the scent of fireplace smoke and a neighbor's burning leaves, intoxicatingly exotic and earthy at the same time. “My father was überprotective, too,” she said, her hands plugged into the sweatshirt's pockets as she looked out over the yard. “Especially since not only was I a girl, but his only child. Hovering? The man had it
down.
And in some ways—a lot of ways, actually—I loved him for it. Because I always felt safe. Except...”

Her curls quivered when she shook her head. “But by the time I got to high school, I was like this precious little snowflake that would melt if somebody looked at me wrong. Because Dad's wanting to keep me from getting hurt meant he never let me try anything he thought
might
hurt me. Like find my own way, or use my own noggin to figure things out. Like the world would end if I made a mistake. So I had no clue how to deal with anything, you know? Meaning I also had zero self-confidence. And that blew. Big-time.”

“And yet...you went to New York?”

“Yeah. After four years of college, at least three of which were spent majoring in How to Grow a Pair. In that respect, Jules is light-years ahead of me.” Finally, she looked at him. “She's going to make some iffy choices, Ethan. Stumble and fall and get a few owies. Because that's how humans grow and learn and become adults. But as long as she knows you've got her back, she'll be okay.”

Ethan frowned. “I don't understand. You just said—”

“There's a difference between supporting Jules by showing her how to navigate all the crap life's going to throw in her path and trying to clear it for her.” Looking away again, she said, “Because, believe me, there's no place in today's world for a pansy-assed woman.”

Certainly couldn't argue with that, could he? But still...

“I never thought this would be a cakewalk. In fact, those first few weeks after Merri...” He rubbed the center of his chest where the ache still throbbed, if faintly. “I'm not a big one for praying, but there were nights when I'd lie awake for hours thinking, over and over and over, ‘Please don't let me screw this up.'”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Claire's smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I'd say your prayer's being answered.”

“Is it?” He linked his hands between his knees. “Merri was...easy,” he said, then pushed a short laugh through his nose. “As in, uncomplicated. Easy to get along with. To understand. She never played games. Especially those guessing games so many guys complain about, where their wives or girlfriends let them know there's an issue, then expect them to figure it out on their own.”

“Yeah, I never got that, either,” Claire said, squinting into the sun. “Kind of hard to have a relationship—a real one, anyway—if you're not up-front with the other person. I mean...that's just respect, you know?”

“And you call yourself a Jersey girl,” he said, and she laughed.

“There's different shades of Jersey. ‘In your face' isn't necessarily the same as being honest. At least not with yourself. A girl can hide a boatload of insecurities behind the drama.” She chuckled again. “Not to mention the makeup.”

Ethan smiled, then said, “Jules said you'd been married?”

“I was, yeah. For about five minutes, a million years ago.”

“What happened?”

She curled forward to brush dirt off her boot, then hugged her knees. “Nothing terrible, it simply didn't work. Probably because it should've never happened to begin with. Nobody's fault, really, that we got swept up in the fantasy. And Brad's a nice guy. He remarried, in fact, last summer. The right girl this time. I hope so, anyway. He deserves to be happy. He did not, however, deserve me.”

His forehead cramped. “What makes you say that?”

Claire looked at him, a smile pushing at one side of her mouth. “And why should that matter to you?”

“Because it sounds like you're putting yourself down—”

She made a choking sound. “Say what?”

“You heard me. And that's not right. Because you don't seem like a terrible person or anything. A little crazy, maybe,” he said, which got another light laugh, “but not off the rails. You don't think you deserve good things, too?”

“That's not what I said. Or meant, anyway. Because what Brad did deserve was somebody who was all in. Not someone who felt...crowded. Like suddenly... How do I explain this?” She frowned for a moment. “I felt like I was supposed to be part of a whole—which totally works for some people, don't get me wrong—rather than being whole on my own. Which felt...weird. And uncomfortable. Especially after how hard I'd fought to ditch the insecurities. And it wasn't fair to him, living with someone who kept catching herself wondering when he was going to go home and get out of my space.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly. And the thing was, I did love him. Or thought I did. But the whole point of loving someone is wanting to be with them, right? Instead, I realized it was bugging me, that he was always...there. So then I felt guilty about what I was feeling, and...things went downhill from there.”

“But didn't you have roommates?”

“And I hated every minute of it, believe me. But at least I always had my own bed, in my own bedroom. And yes, I paid more for the privilege. I could
almost
share the kitchen and bathroom without going nuts, but sharing a closet? Oh, hell, no.” Her eyes slid to his. “And I assume from that look on your face you're no longer so sure about my not being off the rails.”

“Actually, now that I think about it, those things on your legs kinda already made that point.”

She stretched out one leg, admiring. “Hey. They make me happy.”

“As I was saying.”

Unfazed, she lowered her foot again, then said, “So you never, ever feel like you want a little Ethan time? Away from the kids, I mean.”

“No.”

She snorted.

“Okay, sometimes. I am human. Despite your doubts about that.”

“You sure?”

“Mostly, yeah,” he said with a slight smile. “But I never felt that way about Merri. In fact, one of the things...” He stopped, took a breath. “One of the things I most miss is how having her in my life... I never felt alone. Even when we were apart, she was there. Here,” he said, pressing a hand into his chest.

“That must've been nice,” Claire said softly.

“It was. What you said? About feeling part of a whole? That's exactly what it was like. Except...” Sighing, he rubbed his head. “It was even more than that. Because it wasn't like we leaned on each other, or needed each other to function. But we were... I don't know. Better together than we were individually, I guess. A real team. In every sense of the word.”

Claire rested her cheek in her hand. “Would you want that again?”

He got to his feet, grabbing the abandoned lights to start stringing them along hooks he'd put up the first Christmas after they'd moved in. “Not something I let myself think about. And anyway...” Ethan looped the strand through the next hook, then the one after that. “Kinda got my hands full with the kids. My job. And we're finally doing okay. Good, even. Why would I want to shake things up? Hand me that next string, would you?”