Mistletoe Baby. Tanya Michaels
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its glow on the living room sofa. But it had been a ridiculously warm winter that year, and to make the house cold enough, he’d cranked up the air-conditioning. That was David, determined to control his environment.
Then again, there was something to be said for a man who worked that hard to create a romantic moment for his wife. He’d met her while she was vacationing in Mistletoe, and knowing their time together might be temporary, he’d systematically pulled out all the stops in wooing her. He’d—
“Rachel?” Arianne prompted.
She started guiltily, as if she’d been caught committing a crime instead of daydreaming about her own spouse. “I had to let the dogs out! Winnie’s dogs, I mean. Th-that’s why David and I arrived separately.”
“Yeah, we know.” Arianne studied her, looking perplexed.
Well, subterfuge never was my strong suit. Shrugging out of her coat, Rachel scooted past her sister-in-law to greet the rest of the family, which was segregated along gender lines. She heard Tanner and Zachariah offering unsolicited advice on how to arrange the logs; the women were gathered in the kitchen. Rachel made a beeline for the latter and hung her jacket over the back of a chair. Her black jeans and red scoop-necked sweater certainly fitted in the overall color scheme.
Lilah sat at the table in a casual red dress chopping carrots, while Susan, wearing a white-and-red checkered cardigan over dark slacks, seasoned the pot of stew on the stove. The dishwasher stood ajar. Since Arianne hated to cook, Rachel bet her sister-in-law’s job had been unloading dishes.
“Smells divine in here.” Rachel kissed her mother-in-law’s cheek.
She’d always admired Susan’s aura of balance and domestic elegance. The woman seemed comfortable at home cooking for her husband, but equally capable when she was juggling volunteer work in town and at the store. Rachel’s own mom had fought hard to be successful in the workplace, devoting a lot of energy to her career. Though Rachel hadn’t questioned whether she was loved, Mrs. Nietermyer had never seemed completely, well, motherly. As a girl, Rachel had thought her mother harbored an unspoken disdain for homemakers, as if they weren’t as smart or driven. But Susan Waide was sharp as a tack, and Rachel now wondered if what she’d perceived from her mom had been, in part, jealousy…envy over skills she herself couldn’t seem to master.
What kind of mother would I have made? Her chest tightened at the thought, and she pushed away the painful “what if.” “What can I do to help?”
“We’re pretty well set in here,” Susan said. “Could you go remind Zachariah that he and Tanner were supposed to put the extra leaf in the dining room table?”
“Arianne and I can probably take care of that.”
“I appreciate the offer,” Susan said as Ari resumed putting away pots and pans. “But if the boys plan to eat with us, they have to do their part. It won’t hurt them to work for it, dear.”
Lilah laughed. “That sounds like something Aunt Shelby would say.”
Though Rachel always considered Lilah a Mistletoe native, the woman hadn’t been born here like David and his siblings; she’d moved in with her aunt and uncle years ago after her parents had died in a crash. Lilah’s uncle Ray would walk her down the aisle.
“That’s because Shelby Tierney is very wise,” Susan said approvingly. “You’ll have no shortage of marital advice, if you want it. I’m always here.” She swung her shrewd gaze back toward Rachel in clear invitation.
Rachel swallowed. She’d considered discussing the deteriorating state of her marriage with Susan, but it had seemed somehow disloyal to run to David’s family with their problems. Weren’t the Waides duty-bound to take his side? Well, maybe not Arianne. She regularly labeled her older brothers as pains in the butt.
I’ll miss them all so much. She turned away. “I’ll go see about having the guys set up the table.”
Before Rachel reached the living room, she heard masculine laughter. From the snatches she gathered, David and his brother were teasing their father about a fire he’d once tried to start on a camping trip.
“To this day,” Tanner was saying as she entered the room, “Mom still—Oh, hey, Rach.” He crossed the room to hug her, so like his brother in build and coloring that her return embrace was awkward. It had been such a long time since David had held her just to be close. She used to laugh at the way he’d hug her from behind at silly times—while she was trying to put away groceries or brush her teeth. She missed those embraces, but as their married life had grown more tense, their physical relationship had withered.
Now, David watched her wordlessly from the hearth. Their gazes met, held, as the flames behind him crackled. Her stomach somersaulted, not with nausea this time but jitters. A confusing combination of dread and excitement reminiscent of a teenage crush. Zachariah Waide moved in for his hello, interrupting the visual contact.
Rachel regained her composure enough to smile up at him. “Your wife sent me to remind you about the table.”
He grunted in acknowledgment. “Knew I forgot to do something. Come on, Tanner. You can help me while Rachel and David start opening boxes.”
The tree stood in the corner. Someone had brought down four large containers, two cardboard and two clear plastic, of Christmas paraphernalia from the attic. After dinner, they would all help decorate. She thought of the Our New Home ornament she’d put in David’s stocking their first year of marriage. It had fallen off the tree once, knocking off the chimney and cracking the roof on the little house, but he’d glued it back on, insisting the ornament was as good as new.
“Hey.” He spoke first, not looking nearly as nervous as she felt.
After a moment, she realized she was studying him a bit too intently. He hitched an eyebrow questioningly.
“So.” Boxes, Rachel told herself. Much safer to divert her attention to the boxes. “Where should we start?”
He glanced down, considering. “The lights. Might as well check to make sure they’re all working before we go to the trouble of putting them on the tree.”
Rachel read Susan’s neat handwriting and meticulous labels. Assuming everything had been put away correctly, the lights should be in the cardboard box closest to her. She bent at the waist and unfolded the flaps.
Rachel straightened, saying over her shoulder, “Here they—What are you doing?” she demanded as David hurriedly raised his gaze.
“Hmm?” he asked, not meeting her eyes.
Rachel frowned, the tingles shivering through her making her self-conscious. Was she crazy or had he actually been ogling her butt? “Were you…”
“Just standing here. Waiting for you to hand me one end of the lights so we can plug them in.” But she wasn’t the only one who was bad at subterfuge. Even with his head ducked, she recognized the glint in his eyes—she’d been his lover for five years.
She couldn’t help grinning at how unconvincing he was. “You lie.”
“Oh, really?” He did look up then, his answering smile a challenge. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”
They both knew the answer to that, but she wasn’t quite gutsy enough to vocalize it. She’d felt David pulling away physically, had thought for a while that he didn’t find her attractive anymore. So, on the one hand, it was validating to catch him staring, made her feel feminine in a way she hadn’t for a long time. On the other hand, they’d split up, even if they were the only ones here who knew that. Why confuse the issue with flirtatious conversation?
“Never mind,” she backpedaled. “I was mistaken.”
He moved toward her, reaching for the lights. “No, you weren’t.”
Please don’t. She didn’t want to be seduced by the mischievous note in his voice, reminded of everything good they’d shared—sure,