Christmas with Him: The Tycoon's Christmas Proposal / A Bravo Christmas Reunion / Marry-Me Christmas. Jackie Braun
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Thanks.”
She’d already turned and gone before Dawson managed to launch himself from his seat. He caught up with her in the front foyer just as she was pulling on her jacket.
“Eve, wait.”
She turned, a manufactured smile tilting up her lips. “Yes?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Don’t go. Not like this.”
“Like what?”
“Angry.”
“I’m not angry. Why in the world would I be angry?” she asked, tossing the end of her scarf over one shoulder.
“Because I was being a jerk.”
She stopped in the process of pulling on her gloves. “Yes,” she agreed with a considering nod. “You were. A rude jerk to be precise.”
Dawson’s laughter was strained, even though the ice had been broken. “You don’t believe in cutting a guy any slack, do you?”
“To what purpose?”
He ran his tongue over the outside of his top teeth. “Okay, how about this? Do you have any plans for dinner?”
“Tonight?” she inquired.
The woman was definitely playing hardball.
“Yes, tonight.”
“Hmm. Let me think.” She tapped her lower lip with the tip of one gloved index finger. “Not exactly, although I did take a chicken breast out of the freezer to thaw.”
It was a bit of a blow to learn he could lose out to poultry. “I believe Ingrid is making a pork roast.”
“Ah, the other white meat,” she said, repeating the industry’s slogan.
“Yes. She’s a very good cook,” he added in the hopes of aiding his cause.
Eve eyed him stoically. “Is that an invitation, Dawson?” she asked.
“It is.”
“I see.”
She was silent for so long that he was forced to ask, “Does that mean you accept?”
She tilted her head to one side. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On what else is on the menu,” she said.
He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure. Probably some sort of rice or potato dish and a vegetable. Maybe a salad. Do you have a preference? I can let Ingrid know and I’m sure she’ll try to accommodate it,” he offered.
“Actually, I meant in the way of conversation.”
“Oh.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Are you going to talk to me?”
“Of course I am,” he replied, somewhat indignant.
“I mean an actual conversation, Dawson. No chitchat about the weather or diatribes on the economy. I can get that watching the news while I eat Chinese takeout.”
He blew out a breath. “Good God, Eve. You’re a hard woman to please.”
She unzipped the quilted down jacket she wore and laid it over his arm. Her smile was purely female when she replied, “You don’t know the half of it.”
CHAPTER NINE
SINCE they had some time to kill before dinner was served, Dawson suggested they sit in the great room where a fire blazed cheerfully in the hearth. Eve agreed and he helped her carry in the purchases she’d made.
In the past, he’d given Carole carte blanche to buy his family’s gifts. Afterward, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with them. Eve, of course, insisted on running everything past him.
“At the very least you should know what you bought so that when they thank you, you won’t appear baffled.”
“I’m never baffled,” he responded. Her brows rose fractionally as if to say, “Right.”
“Another one of your principles?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
As they sat on the sofa and went through the goods she’d brought with her, Dawson was impressed. The woman had a good eye. She’d pegged his mother’s taste perfectly with a specially designed amethyst ring that was surrounded by smaller stones. Tallulah was going to love it. He told Eve as much.
She smiled, looking pleased. “That was my thought, too. As for your dad, he was difficult. I went out on a limb with this since it cannot be returned, but since Clive seemed to be a real hockey fan, I thought he might appreciate it.”
She pulled a red game jersey from the bag that was on her lap.
“That’s Gordie Howe’s number,” Dawson said as he reached for it. “He was one of the all-time greats.”
“It’s a vintage National Hockey League sweater and it’s signed. I know the Wings aren’t your father’s favorite team, but the Avalanche wasn’t around back in the day.” Her tone turned wry. “I know this because I made a fool of myself in a sports memorabilia store downtown.”
Dawson chuckled. “Dad’s going to love it. He’ll argue, of course, that Ted Lindsay was actually the better player, but he’ll love it. Thank you.”
She rifled through another bag as he folded the jersey and set it aside.
“And here’s the Misty Stark purse I mentioned getting for your sister. I went with something medium-sized from the designer’s spring collection.”
“This spring?”
“I know someone who knows someone who owed that someone a really big favor.” She let out a sigh that was purely feminine. “Lisa’s going to love it.”
The handbag reminded Dawson of a pastel-colored sausage with handles. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” he said dryly.
“I’m still looking for something for your brother-in-law. Suggestions at this point would be appreciated. Christmas is only two weeks away.”
“I’ll give it some thought,” he replied.
“Maybe you could call your sister, pick her brain a little,” she suggested. “Or you could go to Sunday dinner this week and talk to her there.”
“I … I’ll see what I can do.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She leaned forward then to pull a large and very heavy shopping bag across the Turkish rug. “And now for the coup de grâce.”
“What is it?”
“Take a peek.”
He felt a bit like a kid himself when he did. Inside was the gaming system Brian and Colton had been raving about the night of the ball.
“No way!” Dawson said on a startled laugh. “I know you said you could get this for the boys, but … How on earth did you manage it?”
“Trade secret.” She offered a cagey smile. “I can’t give you specifics, but I can assure you that no laws were broken.”
“The boys are going to love this.” He grinned at her. “You’re something else.”
Eve focused her attention back on the bag. “I also picked up a few age-appropriate games to go with it that I think they will enjoy.”
Of course she had. The woman was nothing if not thorough. “You think of everything.”
“It’s my job,” she said lightly. “Besides, after the chemistry set fiasco I felt you needed to really go all out to reestablish yourself as a ‘cool’ uncle.”
He rubbed