All I Want For Christmas (9 page)

R
YAN ENJOYED
Saturdays. He and Maggie slept in and he cooked a real breakfast instead of just pouring cold cereal into bowls. This morning, the smells of coffee, bacon and pancakes filled the kitchen. After a bad night—Maggie had cried herself and her father awake several times—they especially needed a pleasant breakfast.

Ryan had been certain that with Eggwhite caged and safe, his daughter would sleep better. Not so, however, and he felt powerless to help her.

Hell.
Maybe Tina was right, and he should take her to a therapist.

His own sorry state was not terrific, either. He hadn't seen Tina since Monday night. He'd wanted it that way and had meant to get a grip on his undeniable feelings for her. But on his way home from work last night, Norma had called to let him know that she and Maggie were at G. G.' s, and to pick up Maggie there. Knowing he should avoid Tina, Ryan had knocked on the door with way too much anticipation. But she wasn't there. She'd taken advantage of Norma's visit to run to the pharmacy for more pain pills.

His keen sense of disappointment bothered him, and he acknowledged the fact that he hadn't corralled his desire at all. If he could just forget the taste of her mouth and the feel of her body against his….

Scowling, he flipped a batch of pancakes. Lately, he'd worked out so much that his muscles ached, and he was getting pretty sick of cold showers.

According to G. G., Tina hadn't heard about the job yet, but she thought the interview had gone well. Above all else, she wanted a career, and Ryan had best remember that. And he would get through the next week without touching her—or die trying. He set his jaw. Come next Sunday, she'd be gone. Out of sight, out of mind, he told himself, forgetting that the strategy hadn't worked over the past four days.

Until next Sunday he'd continue to remind Maggie—and himself—that Tina was about to leave. With luck, by the time Christmas rolled around, Maggie would be fine and he'd be back to his normal self, a man who resorted to occasional encounters with women who wanted what he did—mutual gratification and nothing more.

He was cooking the last batch of pancakes when his daughter bounded into the kitchen, robe flapping behind her.

“Hi, Daddy! Mmm, mmm, it smells good in here.”

Whatever haunted her in dreams was gone now. Relieved, he ruffled her hair. “Morning, Sunshine. Ready for breakfast?”

“Yes!” Moving away she climbed into her chair. “What're we having?” She reached for the glass of orange juice Ryan had set out for her.

“Your favorite—pancakes and bacon.”

“Yummy!”

“How many pancakes do you want?”

“Five, because I'm five! And one piece of bacon, please.”

Ryan doubted she'd eat more than three pancakes, but this was supposed to be a happy breakfast, so what the heck? “Coming right up.”

He filled her plate and set the food in front of her. Then he served himself half a dozen pancakes and four strips of bacon. After helping Maggie with maple syrup and cutting up her food, he smiled.

“Let's make a toast,” he said with a nod at her milk glass. He'd introduced her to toasts on her birthday the previous August. He raised his coffee cup.

“Oh, goody!” Looking intent and serious and very grown-up, Maggie copied the gesture, using both hands to lift her milk.

“To a great day,” Ryan said.
And a night free of scary dreams.

Maggie clinked her glass against his cup, and they both sipped.

“Can I make a toast, too, Daddy?”

A thin line of milk coated her upper lip. Ryan resisted the urge to wipe it off until after this next toast. “Sure.”

“I get to go to Sam's birthday party today and wear my princess dress. Yay!” Chortling, she again clinked rims with Ryan.

Not exactly a toast, but the giggles filling the room gladdened his heart.

“Can we do it again?” Maggie asked, after all but draining her glass.

Ryan swiped her mouth with his napkin. “Better not, or our food will get cold. Let's eat.”

As he'd predicted, his daughter left half her breakfast. When she was done, he scooped the leftovers onto his plate and finished them.

“Can I go see G. G. and Tina this morning?” Maggie asked.

“In your pajamas?” he teased.

“No, silly. After I get dressed.”

Yesterday G. G. had looked terrible—thin, her face taut with pain and nearly gray. Ryan wondered whether Tina had scheduled an appointment with a doctor in Anacortes and when that would happen. Unless the appointment was today, he thought Tina should take her back to the clinic.

“You saw G. G. yesterday,” Ryan said. “Her hip hurts and she needs to rest. Besides, we have chores to do. It's cleaning day, remember? We want to finish in time for Sam's party.” Which started at two. “And you need time to wrap her present.”

“I know that, Daddy.” Maggie's little mouth tightened into a stubborn line. “But I made G. G. a get-well card last night. Can't I please bring it to her? Then she'll feel better. I promise not to stay.”

The card was news to Ryan. “That's really thoughtful, Sunshine. We'll stick it under her welcome mat. Right now, though, it's time to get dressed.” Hoping that would be the end of the matter, he stacked the dishes, slid back his chair and stood up.

“I could give it to Tina.”

“She's busy with G. G. You don't want to bother her.”

“'Kay.” Maggie gave an adult-size sigh. “Hey, maybe she'll drive me to Sam's party.”

“She may not even go.” Her stricken look tugged at his heart. “If G. G.' s feeling bad, Tina will want to stay home with her.”

“Okay, but Tina knows how to do hair. If I'm a really good girl and get my chores done, can she fix my hair for the party?”

“I'm sick of hearing about Tina. Please, stop talking about her!”

At his sharp tone, Maggie's face darkened. “I thought you liked her.”

The last thing he needed was to upset his daughter. He tucked her hair behind her ears. “First of all, you're always good, Sunshine. Second, I
do
like Tina.” They both did, way too much. That was the problem. “Remember, she's leaving next weekend.”

“I know. Don't be sad, Daddy.” Maggie patted his leg. “It'll be okay. If you want, I'll stay home from the party so you don't get too lonesome.”

She still felt responsible for his happiness, and his short fuse wasn't helping. Ryan lightened his expression. “Hey, I'm not lonesome, I'm fine. But if you stay home,
that
'll make me sad.”

She looked doubtful, so he crossed his eyes, put out his tongue, fixed his thumbs in his ears and wiggled his fingers. “See?”

Maggie giggled, and Ryan blew out a relieved breath.

“If we don't start our chores, they'll never get done.” He gently pointed her toward the doorway. “You get dressed while I clean up the kitchen. Then we'll tackle your room.”

“A
re you sure about this?” Tina asked G. G., who lay on the sofa. Her face was ashen, and clearly she still was in so much misery that Tina wasn't at all sure she should go to the birthday party. “I'm happy to stay home. Kate and Sam will understand.”

“Nonsense. That party will take your mind off the promotion.” G. G. gave her an anxious look. “I just wish Mr. Sperling would call.”

“I'm not worried,” Tina said.

Which was a lie, but G. G. was already concerned enough without worrying over Tina. Jim Sperling was not a man to take his time making decisions, though, and Tina feared that she'd blown it, after all, and he'd chosen someone else for the job. If that happened, G. G. and everyone would be
so
disappointed. The very thought made Tina feel queasy, yet she managed a reassuring smile.

“Look.” G. G. gestured at the front window. “I see Marty and Susan Ross coming up the walk. So go and have fun.”

The doorbell rang, and Tina let them in.

“Hi, G. G., and hello, Tina.” Susan gave Tina a brief hug. “That's a pretty outfit. Isn't it a lovely afternoon?”

At some point overnight or early that morning the rain had stopped and the clouds had vanished, making a welcome change in the weather.

Marty followed, with another hug. “Hi, honey. Afternoon, G. G.” He hung up his and Susan's coats. “You up for a game of Scrabble this afternoon, G. G.?”

“I don't think so.”

Her failure to put on a cheerful face around company, something she otherwise always managed, made Tina uneasy. “I'm staying home,” she said.

“Absolutely not.” G. G. set her jaw. “Help her with her coat, will you, Marty? It's the beige one.”

He took Tina's coat from the closet and held it up for her. “She'll be okay without you,” he said.

“All right, but I'll leave my cell on—so call if you need anything.”

Filled with misgivings, Tina picked up Sam's brightly wrapped tetherball set and stepped outside. Marty closed the door behind her. The sunlight felt good on her face, and she drew in a breath of cold, fresh air and released it.

Aside from a dog barking somewhere in the distance and the occasional sounds of distant cars on Treeline Road, all was quiet. So different from her noisy Seattle neighborhood. Tina hardly knew her neighbors there—another big difference.

She headed along the stone walkway toward her car, which was parked in front of the carport. On the way, she glanced at Ryan's house. She hadn't seen him since Monday night. The front drapes were open. Tina quickly shifted her gaze—in case someone was looking out. Not that that was likely, this being the day father and daughter did their weekly cleaning. Actually, with the party starting soon, Maggie probably was upstairs getting ready.

Tina had enjoyed the little girl's visit late yesterday afternoon, and had been both sorry and relieved that she'd arrived home from the trip to the pharmacy after Ryan had picked her up. Sorry because she liked the man, and relieved for the same reason. She liked him way too much, and could easily fall for him.

A man who didn't want love or a relationship. Which really was for the best, since her life and her work were in Seattle.

Still, feeling as she did, with the memory of Ryan's sizzling kisses so fresh in her memory, it was best to see as little of him as possible. She was only here for another week. Unless G. G. stayed this sick, and Tina didn't want to think about that. Surely by next Sunday she'd feel better. Regardless, aside from Thanksgiving dinner, to which Ryan and Maggie were invited, she would avoid him. When she did see him, she'd be friendly but distant. Nothing more. By the time they gathered again at G. G.' s for Christmas dinner—no doubt Ryan and Maggie would be invited—she'd be completely over him.

She reached around the unwieldy package to open the back door of her sedan. At the same time, Ryan's front door opened. Maggie spilled through it and skipped across the big porch. Behind her, his face dark and unreadable, Ryan followed. Tina's heart gave a joyous thump.

Maggie spotted her and her face lit up, as bright as the sunshine. “Hi, Tina!” she shouted.

Pigtails flying, she bolted toward the street. At Ryan's warning, she stopped to wait for him. He took hold of her hand, but still she tugged him forward, a tiny powerhouse pulling the reluctant full-sized male in her wake.

Tina set Sam's present on the backseat. When she straightened up, Ryan was standing before her. It had been only four days, but she'd missed him. Oh, she had it bad.

She tried to quiet her thudding heart with a deep breath.
Friendly but distant
, she reminded herself. “Hello, Ryan.”

“Tina.”

The pleasure shining in his eyes was at odds with the tense set of his jaw, and she knew he remembered the other night as vividly as she did.

He glanced toward the house. “How's G. G. today?”

“Not so good.”

“She looked like hell yesterday. When is that doctor's appointment?”

“I couldn't get her in until the day after Thanksgiving.”

“If I were you, I'd take her back to the clinic.”

“Believe me, I've suggested that more than once. But you know how stubborn she is. She won't go back.”

Ryan made a sound of disapproval, and Tina glared at him. “I can't exactly force her, can I? At least she's following Dr. Dove's advice and resting more. And she doesn't have a fever. I check every night.”

“Is G. G. gonna die?” Maggie asked. Her eyes were round and dismayed.

“Of course not, sweetie. She'll be fine.”
Eventually.
Tina forced a smile. She noted the gauzy ankle-length pink dress under Maggie's parka and her pink patent leather shoes. “Don't you look pretty.”

The little girl perked up. “This is my princess dress, the one I got for Halloween. Only I changed my mind and didn't wear it then, so Daddy said I could today. Watch me.” Maggie twirled around, the skirt billowing out. “Do I look like a princess, Tina?”

“You certainly do. A beautiful one.”

“Is that Sam's birthday present?” Maggie said, eyeing the package in Tina's car.

Tina nodded. “I was just leaving for her party.”

She'd thought about offering Maggie a ride, but hadn't wanted to see Ryan. Then there was the other problem—Maggie was too attached. Well, so was Tina. And it was too late now. “Would you like a ride?”

“Can I, Daddy?”

Ryan shook his head. “I'm going out anyway, Sunshine, and I want to wish Sam happy birthday. I'll drive you.”

“Then Tina can come with us, right?”

And make things even more awkward? She shook her head. “That's very sweet of you, but I don't think—”

“No sense both of us using up gas,” he said, looking trapped. “You may as well ride with us.”

Maggie jumped up and down. With no way out, Tina retrieved Sam's gift.
Friendly but distant,
she silently repeated, and they crossed the street to Ryan's car.

“O
H
, I
LOVE
birthday parties,” Maggie sang from the backseat, making up the tune and the words as Ryan turned onto Treeline Road.

From time to time she kicked the back of the driver's seat, unable to contain her enthusiasm. Birthday parties always put her in high spirits, and Ryan was glad she'd spend the afternoon with her friends instead of worrying about him. Add Tina beside him in the passenger seat, and his daughter was riding high.

How the hell was he going to patch up her heart after Tina left? he wondered for the millionth time. Tina seemed worried about that, too—at least he figured that was the reason she was subdued. That and concern for G. G.

“Aren't you excited, Tina?” Maggie asked.

Tina glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I certainly am.”

Then she returned her gaze to whatever was out her window—the nearly bare trees, blue skies and houses. Leaving Ryan with a great view of her slender neck.

She must've felt his gaze, for she glanced over at him, blushed and looked away. But not before he noted the warmth in her eyes.

Desire rolled through Ryan. He was sick to death of wanting her, but his body didn't care. Mouth tight, he shifted in his seat.

Fog clouded the front window, and he turned on the defroster and focused on driving. Yet all the while he was keenly aware of the subtle coconut scent that came from her hair.

“Eggwhite says she's sorry she ran away the other night,” Maggie said.

“I know she must be.” Tina twisted around to talk with Maggie.

She'd slipped off one shoe. Why that turned him on was anybody's guess. And sitting beside her was agony.

“We're here.” He signaled and turned. Seconds later, he rolled up the driveway and braked to a stop behind two other cars.

Giggling and bouncing, Maggie unfastened her seat belt. She grabbed Sam's gift, which she'd wrapped all by herself. Despite the heavy use of tape, wrinkled corners and lopsided bow, she seemed proud of what she'd done. That was all that mattered.

Ryan popped the trunk so that Tina could get her gift, then slid out his side and opened the back door. Maggie hopped out, and Ryan bent down to give her pigtails a playful tug. “Have fun, Sunshine. I'll be back to get you later.”

“I thought you were coming inside to wish Sam happy birthday.”

Tina stood behind his daughter, her eyebrows arched slightly.

Right now, he wanted only to put some distance between himself and Tina. “I'll do that when I pick you up, all right?”

Maggie nodded. She gave his cheek a hasty peck, then pulled away. “'Bye, Daddy.”

With eyes that glowed, she grabbed Tina's hand.

His daughter was crazy about Tina. That scared Ryan witless, and kept him from wondering whether he, too, might be falling for her.

T
INA HADN'T BEEN
to a family birthday party in years, not since moving away from the island. Now, sharing the afternoon festivities with Kate, Jack, their kids, parents, other relatives and friends, she was glad G. G. had pushed her to attend.

Standing in Kate's bright, modern kitchen, taking ice cream from the freezer while Kate stuck candles in the cake and her mom carried plates and utensils into the dining room, listening to the sounds of people laughing and chatting at the table, Tina shook her head. “This is some cool party. Now I know what I've been missing all these years.”

“I'm so glad you made it.” Kate smiled warmly. “Now that you know what it's like, maybe you'll find a way to come back for the next one.”

“That would be nice.” Tina made a silent pact with herself to do just that. “It's been great, visiting with Jack and the kids, and your parents. And Paul.” Kate's older brother. “His wife seems wonderful, and their kids are so cute.”

She envied the love that flowed openly among the family members. Maybe someday…“You're so lucky,” she said.

“I know.” Kate let out a happy sigh and lit the candles. “Come on, let's bring out the cake and ice cream.”

After everyone enjoyed dessert, they gathered in the family room, where Sam tore open her gifts, crowing over every one. She loved the change purse Maggie had given her, and clipped it to the sash around her waist. As she peeled paper from the Nerf tetherball set, she squealed—something all the little girls seemed good at.

“Thank you, Tina!” She blew kisses Tina's way.

Pleased, Tina grinned. “You're very welcome.”

Once the gifts had all been opened, the games began. A treasure hunt kicked off the fun, followed by pin the ponytail on the girl. Then they lined up for a chance to break open the pink pony piñata that hung from the ceiling of the back porch. Inside the piñata were toys and candy, and all the children were eager to break it open.

Tina helped, blindfolding and gently spinning the children one by one before they lurched forward, waving a plastic baseball bat in the air and hoping to connect with the piñata. Each got three tries. Though highly stimulated, they were remarkably patient while they waited their turns. Maggie was so excited, she danced her way forward.

Tina fitted the blindfold around her eyes. “Can you see anything, Maggie?”

She shook her head. “Spin me, Tina.”

Tina turned her around several times, then released her. “Go get 'em, kiddo.”

On the first two tries she missed, but on the third the bat connected with the piñata. A loud
crack
filled the room, and the kids went wild, jumping up and down and shouting.

“You did it, Maggie!” Tina pulled off the blindfold. “Hooray!”

The beaming child threw her arms around Tina. “I love you, Tina.”