The Christmas Wife (4 page)

She stared at Deacon who was scrolling through his phone
while they ate lunch.

“I’m working,” Deacon said.

“During lunch?”  Hattie asked.

“Yes, I’m very busy, Hattie,” he replied.

“With making toys?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like making toys?”

Deacon sighed and looked up from his phone.  “Yes, I do.”

“How many toys have you made?”

“Honey, Deacon doesn’t make the toys himself,” Claire said.

“You don’t?”  Hattie asked.

“No,” Deacon replied.  “I’m in charge of the people who make
the toys.”

“Oh.”  Hattie dipped a nugget into the plum sauce on her
plate as Claire pointed to the raw slices of carrots.

“Eat some of the carrots as well please, Hattie.”

“So what do you do then?”  Hattie asked Deacon.

He was looking at his phone again and he gave her an
impatient look.  “What do you mean?”

“What do you do?”  Hattie repeated.

“Well, I have meetings and I make important decisions,”
Deacon said.

“Like what?”

“Like what new toys to make and how many of them.  What
stores we distribute the toys to, and how often,” Deacon said. 

“Oh.  Do you fire people like that lady fired mama?”

“Sometimes,” Deacon replied.

“When they break the toys?”

“Maybe,” Deacon said distractedly.  His phone buzzed loudly
and he stood.  “Excuse me.”

He answered the phone and left the room.  Hattie stared at
Claire.  “Do you love Mr. Stone, mama?”

“Yes, honey.  I told you that on Friday, remember?”  Claire
tamped down her guilt for lying to Hattie.

“Why do you love him?”

“Well, he’s very nice and, uh…”

She trailed off and Hattie stared at her expectantly. 

“He loves me too,” she finished weakly.

“He doesn’t seem very nice,” Hattie said.

“He is,” Claire said.  “Now, finish up your nuggets and
vegetables.  There’s a lady coming this afternoon to play with you while Deacon
and I work on wedding stuff.”

* * *

“Hello, Hattie.  My name is Denise.  It’s nice to meet
you.”  The young woman knelt down and smiled at Hattie. 

“Hi, Denise,” Hattie said.  “Do you like playing cars and
trucks?”

“I love it,” Denise said.

“Really?”  Hattie said doubtfully as she eyed the woman’s
dress.  “You look like you play with dolls.”

“Hattie,” Claire said sternly.

“What?  She does.”

“I do like playing with dolls but I also like playing with
trucks and cars,” Denise laughed.  She held out her hand, “Why don’t you show
me your room and we’ll play in there?”

“Okay,” Hattie took her hand.  “Bye, mama.”

“Bye, honey.  I’ll be in Deacon’s office if you need me,
okay?”

“Okay.”

Claire watched as Hattie led Denise up the large staircase
and disappeared down the hall.  She walked to Deacon’s office and knocked
lightly at the door before opening it and poking her head in.

He was sitting behind the massive desk, staring at his
laptop and he motioned for her to come in without looking up.  She sat down in
the leather seat across from his desk and waited patiently as he typed for a
few minutes before closing the lid of the laptop.

“Hello, Deacon,” she said.

“Hello, Ms. Brooks.”  He opened a leather journal and
produced a pen from the drawer.  “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Of course,” she said.  She crossed her legs and smoothed
the wrinkles from her jeans.

“Good,” he said.  “What is your full name?”

“Claire Victoria Brooks.”

He wrote it neatly at the top of the page.  “And your age?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Your parents’ names?”

“Samantha and Brian.”

“Your relationship with them?”

“My mother died in a car accident when I was sixteen and I
haven’t spoken or seen my father since I was eighteen.”

He paused and looked up from the journal.  “Why not?”

“He’s a raging alcoholic with mental health issues,” she
replied.

He wrote it down in the journal before continuing, “Any
siblings?”

“No.”

“How old is Hattie and what’s her full name?”

“She’s seven and it’s Hattie Victoria Brooks.  Victoria is a
family name.”

He scribbled more notes.  “What about Hattie’s father?”

“He left when Hattie was less than a year old.”

“Why?”

She shrugged.  “He didn’t enjoy being a father.”

“I see.  Were you married to him?”

“No,” she said.

“Were you born and raised here?”

“Yes.”

“Where have you traveled?”

“I’m sorry?”  She frowned at him.

He set his pen down and gave her an impatient look.  “What
places have you travelled?  I enjoy travelling and it would make sense that I
would be attracted to someone who did as well.”

“Oh.  Well, sorry to disappoint you but I haven’t been
anywhere but here.”

He stared at her in surprise.  “You’ve never left the city?”

She shook her head.  “Not yet.  But now that I have some,
um, money, I’ll do more travelling.  I want Hattie to see the world and
experience different cultures.”

He stared for a moment longer at her before looking down at
his journal.  “What’s your favourite food?”

“Sushi.”

He twitched.  “Mine too.”

“Hey look at that – finally we have something in common,”
she said cheerfully.

“Indeed.  Did you graduate high school?”  He asked.

She rolled her eyes.  “Yes, I graduated high school.”

“What jobs have you had in the past?”

She sighed and sat back in the chair.  “Deacon, as much fun
as this game of questions is, why don’t I just tell you a little bit about my
life?  If you have more specific questions, you can ask me, okay?”

He glanced at his watch.  “I have a meeting in fifteen
minutes, Ms. Brooks.”

“I’ll make it quick,” she said.  “Also, maybe you should
start calling me Claire.”

“I’m sorry?”  He gave her an odd look.

“You’re calling me Ms. Brooks.  I get that you’re stand-offish
and not really the ‘lovey dovey’ type but I’m pretty sure even you wouldn’t call
your fiancée by her last name.”

His cheeks reddened slightly.  “Of course.”

“Okay, let’s see.  I’m allergic to penicillin and have a
mild allergy to mushrooms.  My favourite colour is red.  I love to read – I’ll
read anything I can get my hands on - and when I had a TV and could afford
cable I was embarrassingly addicted to “The Real Housewives” reality shows.  My
best friend is Ellen – you’ll meet her on Monday – and she works at the
cleaning company as well.  I hate eggs and I’m terrified of spiders.”

She gave him a sheepish look.  “Seriously terrified.  If I
see one, I’ll either freeze in absolute terror or run screaming.”

“Suffers from severe arachnophobia.  Got it,” he said and
made a note in his journal.

“I graduated high school and went to college for an arts
degree.”

He made a face and she grinned.  “Yeah, I know, but I wanted
to be an actress.  I was going to move to LA and be the next big thing.”

“What happened?”  He asked.

“Well, I met Kevin in my second year and six months after we
started dating I got pregnant with Hattie.  We used condoms and I was on birth
control but apparently it was no match for my fertility powers,” she laughed.

“So you dropped out of college?”  He asked.

“I did.  The plan was to go back and finish my degree once
Hattie turned a year old but Kevin bailed on us when she was seven months.  I
needed to work to support Hattie and me so I took a job with the cleaning
company.  I thought I could maybe take some business courses at night but
daycare costs and just day-to-day living costs were so expensive, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” he said honestly.  “Even when Stone Toys was
failing my family always had money.”

“The toy company was failing?”  She asked.

“Yes.  Ten years ago it was on the verge of bankruptcy.  I
took over after my father’s death and turned it around.”

There was more than a hint of pride in his voice and she
smiled at him.  “Well done.”

“Thank you.  Go on.”  He was oddly fascinated by her life
story.

“Well, for me there just never seemed to be enough money for
anything but the necessities, and I couldn’t really work two jobs because the
extra earnings would just be eaten up with babysitting costs.  I was making it
work though.”

Deacon frowned at her.  “Selling your stuff and being
evicted is ‘making it work’?”

She flushed.  “How do you know I sold my stuff?”

“Hattie told me when you were in the shower.”

She touched the base of her throat before dropping her hand. 
“My car crapped out on me and I needed it to get to work.  I had to use my rent
money to pay the repair bill and I ended up behind on my rent.  I sold a bunch
of stuff to try and get the extra I owed for rent.”

“Obviously it didn’t work,” he said.

“Obviously,” she replied.  “But then you came along with
your ‘marriage’ proposal and now I can give Hattie the life she deserves.”

There was silence for a few moments before he closed his
journal and glanced at his watch.  He pushed a file folder across the desk to
her and she opened it and leafed through the typed pages.

“I’ve taken the liberty of typing up my information,” he
said.  “Please read through it carefully.  If you have any questions, just
ask.”

“Right,” she said as he glanced at his watch again.  He was
obviously dismissing her and she stood as he reached into the drawer again.

“One more thing, Ms. – Claire.” 

He handed her a small velvet box.  She opened it and her
eyes widened at the sight of the ring.  It had a large diamond surrounded by
small sapphires and she swallowed thickly.  “Deacon, this is beautiful but it
must have cost a fortune.  You really shouldn’t have spent so much.”

“I didn’t,” he said briefly.  “The ring was my mother’s and
my grandmother will expect to see you wearing it.”

“Where is your mother?”  She asked.

“She passed away.  It’s all in the file,” he said.  “Try the
ring on, please.  I imagine we’ll have to get it sized.”

She slipped the ring on to her finger and shook her head. 
“Actually, it’s the perfect fit.”

“Good.”

“Okay, well, I guess we’ll see you at dinner.”

He shook his head.  “I have a dinner meeting this evening. 
I’ll be out until quite late.  Mrs. Crane doesn’t normally work on the weekends
but there is plenty of food in the fridge.  Help yourself to whatever you would
like.”

“Will do.”  Claire said cheerfully and left.

Claire closed the file folder and glanced at the clock on
the nightstand.  It was close to ten and after tucking Hattie into bed and
climbing into her own, she had just finished reading the information Deacon had
given her.

She pushed the pillows into a more comfortable position
behind her back and stared at the ceiling.  It was weird to be sleeping alone
in the bed.  She had shared a bed with Hattie since the little girl had
outgrown her crib and she stared at the empty left side.  She wondered if it
made her a bad mom that she was looking forward to sleeping alone.  Hattie had
a tendency to both kick and stretch out across the bed, and Claire had spent
the last six years or so sleeping on the far edge of the bed with tiny feet
lodged against her ribs.

She smiled to herself and traced the file folder with the
tips of her fingers.  Reading Deacon’s life story had been fascinating.  The
guy really had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and she didn’t think
he realized how lucky he was.

Not that lucky.  Both of his parents are dead and he has
no siblings.

True.  They were pretty similar in that regard.  Not that
she knew for certain if her father was dead, but if he had kept up the pace of
drinking he had done when she was a teenager there was no way the man was still
alive.

She mentally went over the information she had just read and
tried to memorize.  He’s
allergic to bees and carries an epi pen, his best
friend is Jude, he’s travelled to Europe, South America, Africa and New Zealand
.

She frowned.  She would have to go over the travel information
again tomorrow and really memorize all the different cities he had visited. 
The man hadn’t been kidding when he said he loved to travel.

His grandmother’s name is Rosa, his cousin is Brandon and
they’ve been fighting over the company for the last ten years.  Brandon is
married to Donna and they have two boys – Brandon Junior and Tyson.  He’s never
been married and he isn’t fond of children.

Alright, so that last part wasn’t actually in the notes but
it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that he wasn’t.  He was oddly stiff
and formal around Hattie, and more than once she’d seen an uncharacteristic
look of helplessness on his face when Hattie was talking to him.  He had no
idea how to be around children and it amused the hell out of her.  She should
probably give him some pointers on how to deal with Hattie.

No, you shouldn’t.  You don’t want Hattie getting close
to him.  You know how she is.  If she gets attached, she’ll be devastated when
you take her away after a month. 

That was very true.  It was better for Hattie if Deacon kept
up that weird distance and formality.  The little girl thrived on attention and
if he continued to ignore her, she would eventually lose interest in him.

There was movement in the doorway, she had left the door
open in case Hattie called for her in the night, and she glanced up to see
Deacon standing in the shadows.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello.”

“How did your meeting go?”

“Fine, thank you.  Was everything okay with you and Hattie?”

“Yes,” she said.  “Everything was fine.”

“Good.”  He paused for a moment longer.  He was still
wearing his suit, she had never seen him in anything but a suit, but he had
loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons. 

“Good night, Claire,” he said finally.

“Good night, Deacon.”

* * *

“Where’s mama?”

The soft whisper pulled him from slumber and he squinted at
the little dark-haired girl standing next to the bed.

“Hattie?”  He said hoarsely.  “Is that you?”

“Yes.  Where’s mama?”

“What are you doing in here?”  He fumbled for the light,
blinking owlishly as he sat up.  “It’s two in the morning.”

“There’s monsters under my bed.”

“There aren’t monsters under your bed,” he said.

“Yes there is,” she argued.  “Where’s mama?”

She stared at the empty side of the bed before giving him a
scared look.  “What did you do to my mama?”

“I didn’t do anything to her, Hattie.  She’s um, she – “

“I’m right here, honey.”  Claire came hurrying into the room
and Deacon breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mama, where were you?”  Hattie threw her arms around
Claire’s waist and clung tightly to her.

“I was just downstairs getting a drink of water.  I told you
to call for me if you got scared, honey.”

“I couldn’t!”  Hattie said dramatically.  “The monsters
under the bed would have heard me if I said anything!”

“Honey, there aren’t any monsters under the bed.  Here, I’ll
show you.”

“No way!” 

Hattie let go of Claire and climbed on to Deacon’s bed.  He
grunted in pain when her knee jabbed him in the balls and Claire winced and
mouthed, ‘I’m sorry’.”

“I’m not going back in there,” Hattie announced.  She
climbed under the covers on the far side of the bed and put the pillow over her
head.

Her voice muffled, she said, “I’m sleeping with you and Mr.
Stone.”

“No, honey, you’re not,” Claire said firmly.

“I have to!”  Hattie wailed as Claire removed the pillow
from her face.  “Please, mama.  Don’t make me go back in there.  Please!”

“I’ll sleep with you in your room, okay?”  Claire said.

“So we can both be eaten by the monsters?”  Hattie gave her
a horrified look.  “No, mama!”

Big crocodile tears were beginning to form in her eyes and
she stared sadly at Deacon.  “Please, Mr. Stone, tell mama I can sleep with
you.”

“Hattie,” Claire said, “You’re a big girl and big girls
sleep in their own – ”

“It’s fine,” Deacon interrupted.

Claire stared at him in surprise as he ran a hand through
his hair.  “You can sleep with us, Hattie.”

“Deacon, she doesn’t need to – “

“Yay!”  Hattie shouted, the tears disappearing immediately. 
She patted the bed.  “Climb in, mama.”

Claire pulled at the bottom of her nightgown as Deacon
stared silently at her.  She blushed when his gaze dropped to her chest and she
plucked the fabric away from her breasts self-consciously.  She really should
have worn her damn bra to bed and maybe her jeans.  And a sweater.

His chest was bare and she couldn’t stop herself from taking
a quick peek at his body.  Shit, she had been right.  The man did have a great
body.  Dark hair covered his broad chest and his arms bulged with muscles.  It
was kind of hard to tell with him sitting that way but he undoubtedly had a six
pack.  She followed the thin trail of hair from his navel until it disappeared
under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. 

That would be a delightful treasure trail to follow
,
she thought dimly and then blushed when Deacon cleared his throat and pulled
the covers up.

“Scoot over, Hattie,” she said.

Hattie shook her head.  “You have to be in the middle,
mama.  I can’t sleep next to Mr. Stone.  I don’t know him very well.”

Claire bit back her highly inappropriate giggle before glancing
at Deacon.  “Uh…”

“It’s fine,” he said.  “It’s a big bed.”

She climbed awkwardly over Hattie, holding on to the hem of
her nightgown and praying she didn’t flash her panties at Deacon, and stretched
out gingerly in the middle of the bed.  The little girl cuddled up to her and
she rubbed her back lightly as Deacon turned out the light.

“Good night, mama, I love you.”

“Good night, Hattie.  I love you too.”

“Good night, Mr. Stone.”

“Good night, Hattie.”

* * *

Claire frowned and wiggled against Hattie’s tight grip.  The
little girl muttered and pressed closer to her back as her feet jabbed
painfully into Claire’s stomach.  She pushed lightly at Hattie’s feet.  The
little girl kicked in response and Claire winced.  God, Hattie could –

She paused, her eyes still closed, as Hattie snored lightly
beside her.  How the hell could Hattie be clinging to her back
and
kicking her in the stomach?  She stared blearily at her child.  Hattie, as
usual, had kicked off the covers and was stretched sideways on the bed.  Her
feet rested firmly against Claire’s stomach and her arms were stretched out
above her head.

Claire looked down slowly and stared at the hand cupping her
breast.  Deacon’s entire body was pressed against hers and his hard leg was
wedged between her thighs.  She could feel his breath against the back of her
neck, and she bit her bottom lip as he shifted and his morning erection pushed
against her ass.

Oh good God.  Deacon Stone liked to cuddle.

She lay silently for a moment, weighing her options.  Okay,
maybe weighing her options wasn’t actually the truth.  After seven years, it
felt really good to be in a man’s arms again.  Hell, good?  It felt downright
sinful.  His hand cupping her breast, the hair-roughened thigh against her own
smooth ones, brought a flood of warmth to her stomach.  Christ, she missed sex.

She twitched when Hattie abruptly sat up.  The little girl
yawned hugely, digging her toes into Claire’s belly before blinking rapidly.

“Hi, mama,” she said.

“Hi, honey,” Claire whispered.  “You need to be quiet,
Deacon is still sleeping.”

She reached for the covers.  She needed to pull them up
before Hattie saw the way Deacon was cupping her breast.  The little girl
yawned again before glancing to her right.  Her eyes widened and she whispered,
“Mama?  Who’s that lady?”

Claire followed her gaze.  An old woman, her silver hair in
a bun at the back of her head and a wooden cane in one hand, was standing in
the doorway.  She stared silently at them as Claire yanked the covers up.

“Deacon!  Wake up!”  She said loudly and tugged at his arm.

He muttered grumpily and squeezed her breast before running
his thumb across her nipple.

“Deacon!”  She said again.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he mumbled.  He gave her breast another
squeeze and pressed a warm kiss against her throat before sliding his hand
between her legs and rubbing her through her panties.

She elbowed him hard in the stomach and he sat straight up
and stared wildly at her.  “What?  What’s wrong?”

“There’s a lady in our room,” Hattie announced.

“What?”  Deacon stared at her in confusion and Hattie
pointed toward the doorway.

“There’s a lady in our room.”

Deacon stared blankly at the old woman.  “Grandmother?  What
– what are you doing in my bedroom?”

Her wrinkled face broke out in a wide grin.  “It’s late, Deacon. 
Get up.”

* * *

Deacon scowled when he entered the kitchen and saw the man
sitting next to his grandmother.  “What are you doing here, Brandon?”

“I was taking grandmother for a drive and she wanted to stop
by.”

“It’s eight in the morning,” Deacon snapped.

“So?”  Brandon eyed his disheveled hair and t-shirt and
pajama bottoms with interest.  “Since when did Deacon Stone ever sleep in?”

He scowled again at his cousin as his grandmother said, “Good
morning, Deacon.”

“Hello, grandmother.”

The old woman still had a broad grin on her face and Deacon
flushed a little as Brandon stared at them curiously.  “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Deacon said.  “Why are you really here, Brandon?”

“Well, I was thinking you and I could meet tomorrow
afternoon at the office.  As grandmother will be signing over her shares of the
company to me in the morning, I’ll need copies of the financial records and
other pertinent information from you.  Maybe you could have them ready for me
and we’ll go through them together.”

“No,” Deacon said.

Brandon sighed loudly.  “Deacon, please don’t make this more
difficult than it needs to be.  I understand that you’re upset but grandmother
made her wishes clear.”

Claire stood outside the kitchen and listened silently as
Deacon growled another terse ‘no’.  She had sent Hattie to her room to brush
her teeth and get dressed, and she had brushed her own teeth and whipped on a
pair of jeans and t-shirt in record time before hurrying down the stairs.

“Alright, Claire,” she whispered, “Showtime.”

She straightened her shirt and breezed into the kitchen. 

“Good morning!”  She said brightly.  She stood next to
Deacon and took his hand, squeezing it and smiling warmly at him.

“Who the hell are you?”  Brandon stared at her.

“My name’s Claire.  I’m Deacon’s fiancée,” Claire said.

“What the fuck?”  Brandon said.

“Brandon!  Language!”  The old woman banged her cane on the
floor and Claire smiled at her.

“Hello, you must be Deacon’s grandmother, Rosa.  It’s so
lovely to finally meet you, Mrs. Stone.”

“It’s lovely to meet you as well,” Rosa said.  “You’re
Deacon’s fiancée, you said?”

“I am,” Claire said.  “I realize this must be quite a shock
to you.”

“It’s fucking bullshit is what it is,” Brandon said.

His grandmother glared at him but he ignored her as he looked
Claire up and down.  “How much is your daily rate?  It must be costing my
cousin an arm and a leg.”

Deacon made a soft snarl of anger and stormed across the
kitchen.  He shoved Brandon against the counter before curling his hands into
the man’s shirt.  “Tell me you did not just insinuate that my fiancée is a
prostitute.”

Claire hurried toward them and pressed her hand against his
back.  “Deacon, honey, it’s fine.  Let him go.”

She tugged on his arm until he finally released his cousin. 
She took his hand and pulled him to the table.  “Sit down, honey, and I’ll make
you a cup of coffee.”

He sat with a hard thump and she kissed the top of his head
before pouring a cup of coffee.  She added a teaspoon of sugar and stirred it
before handing it to him.