The Texas Christmas Gift. Cathy Gillen Thacker
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“I’ll do my very best.”
* * *
“ANYONE EVER TELL you that you have the patience of a saint?” Derek asked several hours later, as he paced the length of his two-bedroom hotel suite, his drowsy daughter in his arms.
He had shed the suit and tie shortly after they’d walked in, emerging from the bedroom in a pair of worn jeans and the same pale blue dress shirt he’d had on earlier. With the first two buttons undone, sleeves rolled to just below the elbow and the hem untucked, he looked casual and at ease. Having gotten a glimpse of the man he was in his off hours, Eve liked what she saw. It also gave her hope that she would eventually be able to connect with him on a more congenial level, and talk some sense into him when it came to looking for a place to call home.
In the meanwhile, Tiffany had resisted being tucked in, so Derek was now “walking” her to sleep. It seemed to be working, Eve noted, as she watched the little girl lay her head on his broad shoulder and slowly close her eyes.
Eve smiled as Tiffany yawned again and cuddled even closer against her daddy’s big strong frame. Eve sighed despite herself. Was there anything more compelling than watching a man tenderly care for a child?
Abruptly aware that Derek was watching her as intently as she was watching him, Eve brushed aside the fantasies he’d been engendering all evening and reassured him with a smile. “Not to worry. Adjusting my schedule to my client’s is a necessary component of my vocation.”
She hadn’t planned to be there through Tiffany’s dinner and bath, but it had given her time to get better acquainted with Derek and his daughter and intermittently ask him questions about what he wanted in a home. Which in turn gave her a better idea what properties to show him.
Noting his daughter was now sound asleep, Derek carried her into the adjacent bedroom and set her ever so gently down in her crib. He paused to cover her with a blanket, and then returned to the living room. With his dark hair attractively mussed, the hint of evening beard rimming his handsome face and his long legs emphasized by close-fitting jeans, he was the epitome of masculinity. And way too sexy for her own good, Eve reminded herself.
He plucked the bottle of sparkling water from the room service tray, filled two glasses and added ice, then handed her one. “Ready to get down to business?”
She accepted the beverage with a smile. “Let’s do it.”
She brought up the map of Highland Park on her computer. The town was three miles north of the center of Dallas, and only 2.26 square miles in size. Yet it had approximately 8,900 residents, most living in very luxurious and expensive homes. “Exactly how close do you want to be to your ex-wife’s place?”
Shrugging in response, he pulled up a chair beside her at the desk. He turned it around and sank onto it, his long limbs on either side of the seat, his arms folded over the back. After a moment of deliberation, he slanted Eve a glance. “Next door wouldn’t be bad.”
She turned toward him so abruptly her stocking-clad knee brushed his denim-clad thigh. A flicker of sensation swept through her. “Seriously?”
He lifted his shoulders in another shrug. “Just because Carleen and I are divorced doesn’t mean we can’t give Tiffany the same level of familial happiness she would have enjoyed had we stayed together.” He studied Eve over the rim of his glass. “You don’t believe that can happen?”
She paused, not sure how to answer that. “You two seem to get along great.”
Her caution made him smile and search her eyes. “And you think that’s weird.”
Eve wanted to deny it. But she sensed if she was less than honest, she would lose him as a client. She shifted so they were no longer in danger of touching, and leaned back in her seat. “I think it’s commendable.”
He waited, still studying her.
Eve gulped some water, aware she was going to have to open up even more. “And...unusual,” she said finally.
She lowered her eyes to the strong column of his throat and the tufts of springy, dark brown hair beneath his collarbone, then quickly looked back up. Clearing her throat, Eve tried for diplomacy. “I’m not married. Never have been. But from what I’ve seen, sharing custody can be really challenging.”
He lifted a brow. “You mean ugly.”
“Or just plain difficult.” She shrugged, still feeling as if she were walking through a minefield, courtesy of Derek McCabe. “Given that there are so many emotions involved in these kinds of situations...”
His gaze drifted over her face slowly, before returning to her eyes. “You’re wondering why I’m okay with my wife remarrying.”
Was she that easy to read? And why did she, a consummate professional who made a point these days to keep her personal feelings out of every business situation, really want to know? Telling herself it would help her find the right home for him if she knew more about the overall situation, she shifted a little closer. “Are you?”
He nodded, then rose and walked back to the room service table where several desserts sat untouched. He picked up a plate and gestured for her to have at it, too. “Maybe if Carleen and I had been head over heels in love, I’d feel differently.”
He’d chosen the slice of coconut cake garnished with berries. Eve picked up the crème brûlée.
He settled himself on the sofa. She selected an adjacent wingback chair and spread a napkin over her lap. “But you weren’t in love?” This was getting more interesting by the moment.
Derek exhaled, regret sharpening his handsome features. “We were really great friends from the moment we met at Harvard Business School. We both worked in the financial sector, and wanted the same things, including high-powered careers—and kids. And we figured if you were going to have a family, you should be married.”
“So you tied the knot.”
Savoring another bite of cake, he nodded. “For the first couple of years it was great. We moved back to Texas, where our families were from. We had work and each other. And then Carleen and I met Craig. One of Carleen’s coworkers, he had recently lost his wife to cancer. Needless to say, our hearts went out to him. We started helping him with his brood of kids whenever we could. But I was traveling a lot with my job then, so Carleen spent more time over there.” There was a long silence. “The experience made her really want children, so we started working on a family of our own. She had just found out she was pregnant when I walked in one day and saw the way they looked at each other.”
Eve’s heart stilled. She paused, her spoon halfway through the sugary crust on her crème brûlée. “They were having an affair?” She couldn’t fathom that, remembering the two people she’d met earlier.
Putting his empty plate aside, Derek exhaled roughly and clamped a hand to the back of his neck. “No, they were both too principled for that. But it was clear to me that Carleen was in love with Craig, the way she never had been with me.” He paused, rubbing the tense muscles.
Eve watched Derek rummage around for a coffee cup. Finding one, he filled it from the decanter on the room service tray. “You must have been devastated,” she said.
The look on his face said he had been. “I thought about ignoring it,” he confided quietly, coming back to sit on the sofa. “Just hoping and praying whatever it was they were obviously feeling would fade.”
Eve remembered that they had separated early in Carleen’s pregnancy. “But you didn’t do that.”
He shrugged and turned his eyes back to hers, a mixture of remorse and acceptance visible there. “I realized I couldn’t live a lie for the rest of my life. So I asked Carleen about it, and she finally admitted what I had already observed. That, in an ideal world, she probably would have ended up with Craig...but she was married to me, and she intended to stay married to me.”
“You disagreed?”
He