The Texas Christmas Gift. Cathy Gillen Thacker
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congratulated Derek again, more formally this time, and then bid him good-night. It was a good thing her business with Derek McCabe was almost over. She was going to have a hard enough time forgetting the powerful attraction she felt for him as it was.
* * *
EVE WAS STILL thinking about the congratulatory hug from Derek—and her unprecedented reaction to it—when she went to the hospital the next morning to help with her mother’s transfer.
As expected, even though the facility was bright and cheerful, Marjorie was less than enthusiastic about her upcoming stay in the cardiac rehab unit.
“I’d rather just go home,” she grumbled, accepting the bag of comfortable clothing Eve had brought her.
Aware of the irony in taking on the parental role in their relationship, Eve handed over her mother’s computer tablet and the weekend newspapers. “This is a necessary part of your recovery, Mom.” Although she doubted her mother would change anything about her life without putting up a heck of a fight.
Marjorie made a face and removed the real estate inserts from both papers. “Have you found Derek McCabe a house yet?”
Grateful for the change of subject, Eve gave her the details.
Her mom blinked. “I thought he was in the market for an eight-million-dollar home!”
Eve knew a transaction of that magnitude would have likely given them a solid lead in the annual sales race. Refusing to feel guilty for doing what was right for her client, however, she explained, “He decided he wanted something much smaller in scope and more baby-friendly. The good news is he’s very happy.”
Or at least he had been the night before. Eve still had the feeling it was all happening a little too fast for comfort.
Her sense of foreboding increased the next day.
She had been given permission to get contractors in to look at the property in advance of the closing, and she went to the house to let them in. By the time they’d finished, Derek had arrived. The kitchen and bath designer, plumber, electrician, flooring rep and painters all conferred with him, and promised to have formal estimates for him the following morning.
Bad news relayed, they filed out, one by one.
Leaving Derek and Eve alone.
“So what do you think?” she asked, looking around at the empty house. The heating and ventilation system was out of commission, so the interior was chilly and dank. A light rain was falling, and on this gloomy December day the house seemed even more in need of tender loving care. “Feel overwhelmed yet?”
Derek shook his head. “Excited.”
Glad to see he hadn’t changed his mind about his spur-of-the-moment decision, because deep down she sensed that this was indeed the perfect home for him, she allowed herself to tease, “And here you thought you weren’t the fixer-upper type.”
He gave her a leisurely once-over. “Sometimes it’s necessary to get business out of the way. So you can move on to more important things.”
Puzzled, Eve tilted her head. “Like what?”
The look he gave her was direct, uncompromising, confident. “Asking you out.”
For a second, she was certain she hadn’t heard right. The sparkle in his eyes told her that she had. Her pulse pounding, Eve worked to get air into her lungs. “On a date?” she asked hoarsely.
His sexy smile widening, he inched closer. “That was the general idea,” he said.
Eve pressed her palm to her chest, trying to tamp down the immediate spark of excitement she felt. “I’m flattered.”
Derek sobered. “I don’t want you to be flattered,” he told her huskily. He took her in his arms and pulled her flush against him. “I want you to say yes.”
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