Unwrapped (14 page)

“Her?”

“Jacqueline is convinced that the baby's going to be a girl. Although she might've just said that because I accidentally used the word
he
and she loves to disagree with me.”

For the first time, Bailey sent him a genuine smile. “She is contradictory. If you say
black
, she'll always say
white
.”

“So I've gathered,” he said dryly.

Her eyes seemed to narrow in on him as she rhythmically tapped the pen on her open file. It was extremely disconcerting, and he was sure that she knew it. “So why aren't you married?”

“I guess I prefer my own company to that of a chattering female.”

Bailey burst out laughing. “And you were attracted to my sister?”

Patrick couldn't help it. He liked this woman. She might be a ball-buster, but she didn't beat around the bush or talk nonsense. If the circumstances were different, they could have been friends. He shrugged. “Circumstances.”

The laughter faded from her eyes. “So you're not attracted to my sister?”

He didn't want to be. Jacqueline was everything he hated and more—rich, compulsive, and spoiled. Still, he couldn't deny that he was attracted to her. When she was in the same room, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. It could be because she was pregnant with his child. But he doubted it. Not when just a flash of her blue eyes made him rock-hard. Still, he wasn't ready to admit it. “What are you getting at?” He leaned up. “I thought we were talking about me being a good father. What difference does it make if I'm attracted to your sister?”

Ignoring the question, she got up and walked over to the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. “You're wrong about her, you know. She isn't ditzy. She scored in the top seven percent on her SATs and barely opened a book. She is compulsive and a tiny bit materialistic. But you couldn't find a more kindhearted, generous, loyal human being.” She glanced back at him. “I know you won't take my word for it, but she'll be a wonderful mother.”

If Patrick took anyone's word, it would be this woman's. He couldn't seem to help it. He liked Bailey and couldn't fault her for trying to protect her sister.

“One year,” he said. “That's all I ask for. I give you my word that I'll take the best care of her and our baby.”

She studied him for a long moment, and he really thought she was going to agree. Instead she dropped a bomb that had him reeling. “I'm going to assume that Jacqueline hasn't told you about getting married.”

Married? Patrick felt like he had the time he'd been wrestling with Matthew and got kicked in the windpipe. Air wheezed out of him, and he couldn't seem to get it back.

Acting like she was completely unaware of his discomfort, Bailey walked over and sat down. “Being that Jac is a bit of a romantic, she wants the full Cinderella wedding complete with a Central Park horse-drawn carriage. And on Christmas day of all days.” While Patrick struggled to breathe, she picked up the pen and started that annoying tapping. “But I can't really complain about the time frame. Not when the baby needs a father figure.”

Air filled Patrick's lungs, followed by a whole lot of anger. “What do you mean a father figure? I'm the father.” His hand came down hard on the desk. Bailey didn't even jump.

“Of course you are.” She smiled in that patronizing way of hers. “But you certainly don't think that Jacqueline will remain single for the rest of her life.”

Patrick didn't know what he thought. In fact he'd been so busy thinking about fitting into his child's life that he hadn't given much thought to how he'd fit into Jacqueline's. Now that he did, he discovered that the mere idea of Jacqueline being with another man pissed him off so much he couldn't sit still another moment.

He got to his feet. “Where is she?”

J
ac didn't know what she'd expected when Bailey got back to the hotel after meeting with the McPhersons, but she certainly hadn't expected her sister to bring the most annoying McPherson with her.

All the questions Jac had been saving up fizzled as she stared in disbelief at the grumpy-looking man who followed Bailey into the room. Patrick was dressed in his usual construction uniform of work boots, faded jeans, and flannel shirt. But today he'd added a green ski jacket that turned his eyes a piercing emerald. His gaze took in Jac and then quickly narrowed on Gerald, who was propped up on the pillows next to her.

Gerald immediately clicked off the television and got to his feet. “Hi, Patrick. What a surprise. Jac and I were just watching
Property Brothers
—her new favorite show. And I must admit that construction brother Jonathan is drool-worthy when he knocks down walls with his big sledgehammer.” His eyebrows lifted. “Do you have one?”

Bailey rolled her eyes. “Cut it out, Gerald. Patrick isn't here to talk about his tools. He volunteered to take us sightseeing. Now show me where the soda machine is so I can get a Dr Pepper before we leave.”

Sightseeing? Had Bailey lost her mind? What happened to Killer Bailey who nailed guys' balls to the wall? Jac might've asked that very question if Gerald hadn't chimed in.

“Ooo.” He clapped his hands. “You're going to show us around, Patrick? What fun.” He sent Jac a bright smile before he headed out the door after Bailey.

For a second Jac thought about racing after them. Patrick did not look like he was in a good mood. Which could only mean one thing: Bailey
had
kicked some McPherson butt. The thought made Jac a lot less angry with her sister. Bailey was probably just trying to appease Patrick now that they were headed back to New York City.

Putting on a happy face, Jac got up from the bed. “It's so nice of you to show us around before we—”

“Do you love him?”

Jac blinked at the quick subject change. “What?”

He stepped closer. “The guy you're marrying. Do you love him?”

Jac tried to hide her shock. Bailey had told Patrick that she was getting married? Why would she do something like that? The light went on in Jac's brain. Of course, how stupid could Jac get? If Patrick thought she was getting married, he wouldn't expect her to stay here. Which meant that all she needed to do was tell him that she loved Renie's dad.

Unfortunately, with his green eyes pinned on her, that was easier said than done. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to get the words out. “Yes, I…umm…I really…” She cleared her throat as his eyes narrowed.

She was about to skip the word
love
and go with
like a lot
when something behind her caught his attention. He stepped around her and walked to the other queen bed. Slipping a hand beneath the pillows, he pulled out his Scottish kilt. Since she'd left the cabin, the soft plaid had become a kind of security blanket for Jac. Something that soothed her when she couldn't sleep, almost as much as Bailey talking law. Of course she didn't want Patrick knowing that. And when he turned and stared at her in confusion, she tried to explain. “I must've gotten it mixed in with my wedding gown that night at the cabin,” she said. “And the reason it's here is because I was going to bring it back to you. And the reason it was under my pillow is because…” She ran out of reasons as Patrick stepped closer. So close that she could smell the fresh outdoorsy scent that seemed to cling to him.

“And I think you're a really bad liar, Jacqueline.” He lifted the kilt. “Not just about this, but about the man you think you're going to marry.”

The word
think
should've set off a warning bell in her brain. But her brain would have had to be working in order for that to happen. And his nearness caused all coherent thoughts to vanish. She swayed toward him, and he rewarded her with a kiss that further fogged her mind. When he finally pulled back, his breath was as uneven as hers. He stared at her with those heated green eyes for what felt like an eternity before he spoke.

“If you're going to marry anyone, you're going to marry—”

Gerald came bustling back into the room. “Now that Bailey has her hit of caffeine, what are we waiting for? Let's go sightseeing!”

It turned out that Gerald didn't really want to sightsee as much as shop. Once Patrick pointed out the 16th Street Mall, all the tourist stops in downtown Denver were forgotten. Normally Jac would've been just as excited about shopping in a new city. But Patrick's kiss had left her feeling like she'd gone for a spin on a carnival ride. Or not the kiss as much as what he'd been about to say. Of course she must've misunderstood. There was no way that Patrick had been about to order her to marry him. Patrick wasn't the marrying kind. And yet she couldn't shake the thought, which left her feeling confused and disoriented.

She was relieved when Gerald finally finished shopping and they left the busy mall. While Patrick and Bailey helped Gerald with his multitude of bags, Jac headed to the bench across the street from the mall. She had just stepped off the curb when a car came zipping around the corner. It would've hit her if someone hadn't grabbed her from behind and pulled her to safety. Once she caught her breath, she turned to thank her savior. She was surprised to find the Santa street person standing there in his tattered coat and green stocking cap.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “That car came out of nowhere.” As she looked down the street after the car, a thought struck her. “Mr. Darby.”

“More like someone in a hurry,” Santa said. “People are always in a rush during the holidays. So how's that happily ever after coming?”

Jac would've continued to obsess about Mr. Darby if she hadn't looked at Santa. There was just something about the man's twinkling eyes and peppermint scent that drained all negative thoughts right out of her. She smiled. “Not so well, I'm afraid, but I refuse to give up.”

He took off the tattered stocking cap and scratched his head. “That's too bad. It would sure make things a lot easier.”

Before she could ask him what he meant, Patrick came striding up with Gerald and Bailey close on his heels. He took her arms as his concerned gaze ran over her from head to toe.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Oh my God, Jac,” Gerald said. “What were you thinking stepping out in the street without looking both ways?”

“She wasn't thinking,” Bailey joined in. “What is up with you, Jac? You've been in a daze all day. Between you walking around like a zombie and Gerald in his silly rabbit hoodie—”

“It's not silly.” Gerald stroked the fur that framed his face.

“I don't know what you'd call it,” Bailey said. “You do realize that Peter Cottontail lost his life for your fashion, don't you, Geri?”

Gerald shot a glance at Santa. “Don't worry, Santa, it's only faux. I wouldn't want you putting me on the naughty boy list over a bunny hoodie.”

“I wouldn't think of it, Gerald,” Santa said. “Haven't you always gotten what you wanted?”

“Well, actually there was that underwear model—”

Bailey slapped a hand over his mouth as Patrick took a business card out of his wallet and tossed it and a hundred-dollar bill into Santa's hat. “Thank you for pulling Jacqueline out of harm's way. If you're interested in a job, call me.” He took all the shopping bags from Gerald and Bailey. “I think we've had enough sightseeing for one day. Why doesn't everyone stay here and I'll go get my truck?”

When he was gone, Gerald spoke. “So? Are we having fun yet?”

“No,” Jac said. “I'm not having fun. First my sister brings home the enemy, and then Mr. Darby almost runs me over.” Suddenly, worried about airing her dirty laundry in front of strangers, she glanced over at Santa. He was gone. No doubt on his way to the liquor store with Patrick's money. Except the image of a drunk didn't fit with the jolly old guy. She'd rather think of him using the money to feed his reindeer.

“For the love of Pete, Jac, enough about Mr. Darby.” Bailey sat down on the cement wall that bordered one of the trees lining the street and pulled off her sensible pump. “You were the one who stepped out in the street without looking. And I don't think that Patrick's the enemy.”

Gerald sat down next to Bailey. “So I gather that Patrick wasn't intimidated by the threat to sue his company.”

Bailey shook her head. “I doubt that the man is intimidated by much. Although I think you overreacted, Jac. Patrick isn't trying to steal your baby as much as spend time with his kid.”

“I don't know what you'd call it. Patrick threatened to sue for full custody if I didn't move here.”

“Only because he thinks it's the most logical plan,” Bailey said as she replaced her shoe. “And I'm starting to wonder if he isn't right.”

“What?” Jac stared at her sister. “Please don't tell me that you're taking Patrick's side?”

Always one to avoid a sister fight, Gerald got to his feet. “If you ladies will excuse me, that scent of peppermint has me craving peppermint hot cocoa, and I'm going over to that coffee shop and see if they have some.”

Once he was gone, Bailey continued. “I'm not taking Patrick's side, Jac. I just want you to use common sense instead of hormonal emotion. What's wrong with moving to Denver for a year? It's not like you have a job or any responsibilities in New York.”

Jac's eyes widened. “Move away from a family I love to live with a man I don't even like?”

“Isn't that what you are planning on doing with Renie's dad? And be truthful, Jac. Do you really dislike Patrick that much?”

Jac took a moment to consider the question. She did dislike his arrogance and bossiness. And the way he could have a civil conversation with Bailey but not with her. But there were some things she didn't dislike. Like his long blond hair, the spring green of his eyes, and the way the soft fabric of his flannel shirts molded to his broad shoulders and muscled chest.

“No,” she said as she sat down next to her sister. “I don't dislike him that much.”

“And you certainly desire him.”

“So what? I've lusted after lots of guys.”

“Really? Name one.”

Jac tried to come up with a name, but it wasn't easy. She had dated a lot of men, but lusted after very few. “When I was seventeen, there was Damon Jackson.”

“You didn't lust after him. You lusted after the shiny new Jaguar his dad bought him for Christmas.”

“What about Mikey Hall?”

Bailey rolled her eyes. “Geez, Jac. You were ten, and he was twelve. Don't tell me you had the hots for him?”

No. More like his mother's homemade chocolate chip cookie recipe.

“Richard Gere!”

“Only because you wanted to be his pretty woman. Besides, movie stars don't count.” Bailey glanced up at the overcast skies, no doubt already worrying about the return flight home.

“Okay,” Jac said. “So I haven't lusted after a lot of men. What difference does that make?”

Bailey looked at her. “Did you ever think that maybe you were saving yourself for the right one?”

“Patrick?” She snorted. “Not hardly.”

“Why not?” Bailey said. “Patrick is young, intelligent, good-looking, and wealthy. You could do a lot worse for a husband.”

“A husband! Have you lost your mind?”

“Think, Jac.” Bailey tapped her head. “The stipulation in the will says that your husband must be from Aunt Frances's social circle. Well, Patrick's wealthy, and his father knew Uncle Thaddeus. And if you're willing to marry some old men for Aunt Frances's money, why not a young, good-looking man who is the father of your child? Maybe if you look forward to the honeymoon, you'll stick around for the ceremony.”

Jac started to argue, but then realized she couldn't. Bailey was right. If her plan was to marry for her aunt's money, why wouldn't she choose a man who made her sizzle? And there was little doubt that the man made her sizzle. As Patrick pulled up to the curb in his big mud-splattered truck, her heart did a crazy little flip, and her face filled with heat.

“But I couldn't live away from you and Gerald for a year,” she said. “At least Renie's dad lives in New York so I'll be able to see you every day.”

Bailey took her by the arms and gave her the serious sister look. “I think it's time you experienced life without me and your sidekick Gerald.” She paused for a moment. “And if you married, you wouldn't have to worry about Mr. Darby trying to kill you—”

“Patrick!”

Jac glanced over her shoulder to see a beautiful dark-haired woman heading toward them. She wore designer jeans that hugged her trim hips and a sweater that molded to her curvy breasts. Curvy breasts that she pressed against Patrick as she launched herself into his arms. Patrick didn't register any signs of surprise at the woman's aggressive behavior. In fact his hands came to rest on her waist as if they'd been there before.

Heat filled Jac's face once again, but this time it wasn't from desire as much as anger.

“It was the strangest thing,” the woman gushed as she pulled back and ran her hands over Patrick's chest like she was reading Braille. “I came out of this store and stopped to put money in this cute little Santa's stocking cap when I saw your business card. I asked him where he had gotten it, and he said you were just outside. So I figured that it had to be fate—you know, just like that movie
Serendipity
.”

Serendipity
? Jac had seen the movie, and this was nothing like it. Especially when she was cast in the role of single sidekick. Before she could stop herself, she jumped up and changed the script.