Christmas With The Single Dad. Sarah Morgan
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Her smile didn’t knock his world off its axis, didn’t create a fireball of desire. He let out a long, slow breath. Last night’s reaction had been nothing more than an overload of hormones—a temporary aberration. Understandable given he’d been celibate for the last eighteen months.
He did notice that her hair looked shiny in the dappled light, though, and that her skin had a healthy glow. ‘How did the riding lesson go this morning?’
Her face lit up. ‘Oh! It was the best fun!’
Something inside him thumped in response. He planted his legs and tried to quash it. ‘I hope you didn’t mind that Jack gave the lesson?’
‘Not at all. He’s a great teacher.’
Something in her voice, if not her face, told him she was glad he’d sent Jack in his stead. It made him want to thrust his jaw out and—
He shook himself.
‘He says I’m a natural.’
It was what he’d told Cade too. When Cade had finally shown his face. It was obvious the older man liked her.
‘Sore?’ It was a malicious question and he didn’t know where it came from.
‘Not yet.’
He was going to tell her she would be in the morning, but Ella chose that moment to wriggle out of his grasp. ‘Come and see our picture, Daddy. Nic brought a whole book of pictures and said we could colour in one a day if we want.’
‘Any Christmas pictures?’ he couldn’t help asking.
The colour heightened in her cheeks, but she merely tossed her head. ‘They’re all native Australian bush scenes.’
‘They’re beautiful,’ Ella announced.
He stared at Nicola and pursed his lips. ‘How about a Christmas carol before I get back to work?’
‘Yay!’ Ella clapped her hands.
He could’ve sworn Nicola rolled her eyes.
Ella launched into “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”. To her credit, Nicola started on the song only a beat later. The sweetness of her voice held him spellbound.
She tossed him a crayon and broke off singing to say, ‘Join in or get back to work, those are your options.’
He grinned at the school teacher bossiness of it. He started singing too and coloured a koala blue.
When they finished Ella squirmed in excitement. ‘It’s only twenty more sleeps till Christmas!’
Nicola didn’t say anything.
Cade ruffled Ella’s hair. ‘That’s right, pumpkin.’
‘I want lots and lots of presents,’ the child announced. ‘I want the Rapunzel movie and a Barbie camper.’
Cade stifled a grin. He’d ordered the DVD and a whole load of Barbie accessories over six weeks ago. He hadn’t wanted to risk the stores running out. They were stowed in the top of his wardrobe at this very moment.
‘Nic!’ Ella bounced some more. ‘What do you want Santa to bring you?’
‘I don’t expect Santa to bring me anything because I’m a grown-up.’
Cade cleared his throat. ‘At Waminda Downs, Santa brings everyone a present.’
Comprehension dawned in those amazing eyes.
‘Every year,’ Ella confided, ‘he brings Harry the biggest box of chocolates and … and … something in a bottle.’
Nicola shot him a quick glance. ‘Perfume?’
‘Baileys Irish Cream.’
Her lips twitched. ‘You know, that sounds exactly what I’d wish for too.’
‘Not a Barbie camper van?’ Ella said, her mouth turning down.
‘I already have one. Santa brought me one when I was six.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Ella went back to colouring in.
Cade frowned. A box of chocolate-coated ginger and a bottle of Baileys suddenly seemed all wrong for Nicola. He shifted. ‘If you could have anything, what would you ask for?’
She shook her head and shrugged. The question obviously didn’t interest her and that disturbed him.
‘Other than a horse,’ he persisted, ‘what was the one thing you asked for when you were growing up, but never got?’
She stared up at the sky, lips pursed. ‘Romance novels.’
He blinked.
‘I loved them when I was a teenager and when I was fourteen I asked for a collection of romance novels. What I received was a leather-bound set of the complete works of Jane Austen. Which, technically, are romances, and don’t get me wrong, I love Jane Austen, but …’
But they hadn’t been what she’d asked for.
She frowned. ‘I haven’t read a romance novel in ages.’ She glanced at him and then gave a defiant toss of her head, though he couldn’t help noticing how she was careful not to jerk Holly awake. ‘And no doubt my life is the poorer for it.’
Romance novels, huh?
He stared at her and his youngest daughter. ‘You look like the Madonna and child.’
She snorted. ‘There’s nothing immaculate about me, take my word for it.’
He choked back a laugh. She stiffened and then did that stupid pulling back thing, as if she wished she hadn’t said what she had, even though it was funny and had made him laugh. It ruined his mood completely.
‘Time I got back to work,’ he said abruptly, climbing to his feet.
‘Bye, Daddy.’
He turned away, only to swing back half a second later. ‘A soak in a hot bath this evening will help with the sore muscles.’ And then he turned on his heel and strode off with long strides because the image that flooded his mind of Nicola stretched out in a steamy bath, her eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure, needed to be booted out again asap before the ground beneath his feet started shifting again.
He bit back a curse. Hormones might be a fact of life, but they could be darn inconvenient.
Ten days later Cade’s family arrived—his mother and all her luggage on one plane, his sister and his five-year-old twin nephews on another. His brother-in-law would fly in on Christmas Eve.
This was what Cade had been dreaming of and planning for—a rowdy family Christmas full of fun and laughter and festivity.
He couldn’t help noticing the way Nicola kept herself in the background, though. He’d done his best not to notice her this past week. Not that he’d been particularly successful.
He couldn’t help noticing the way her gaze kept returning to the bowl of chocolate sultanas that Harry had put out as a treat, along with fruitcake and shortbread, either. She ignored the fruitcake and the shortbread, but she eyed those sultanas as if they held the answer to the universe. It made him smile. He held his breath and waited for her to seize a handful and enter into the Christmas spirit.
She didn’t, even though she couldn’t seem to stop her gaze from darting back to them again and again. Something in his chest started to burn.
When a bout of family Christmas carols started up, he couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes dimmed, even though she kept a smile on her face. Or the way she slipped out of the French windows and onto the veranda.
Ella and Holly didn’t notice. They were too entranced with their grandmother,