Chapter 18
“A little more to the left. Yes, right there.”
Jack tilted the evergreen tree to the left, hoping it was finally in the correct spot. “Is this straight?”
“Perfect,” Callie said. “Now hold it still while I tighten the stand.”
He gritted his teeth at the ache in his ribs. But he’d be damned if he’d appear too weak to hold up a friggin’ Christmas tree. This afternoon when they’d cut it down had been bad enough. Callie and Heather hadn’t said a word, but he’d felt ridiculous and emasculated that he needed help cutting and dragging the tree back to the stand where they paid.
The bright spot had been Jonathan. The boy couldn’t hide how excited he was to have his father with him. His incessant chatter with the tree guy was all about his dad and how he’d cut the tree. The tree guy didn’t need to know the women had helped. Hopefully way up here in Vermont no one knew who they were so being called Jonathan’s dad wouldn’t cause a problem.
“There, all tight. Let it go. Hopefully it won’t fall.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he checked out the tree. “If it does, it’s not my fault. My job was to hold it in place.”
“Oh, you.” Callie playfully slapped at his arm then snuggled into it. He pulled her in with his other and held her tight. This is where he wanted her every second. She lifted her face as if asking for a kiss. A request he’d never refuse.
The kiss was light and playful. He couldn’t do much more in front of Heather and Jonathan. That could wait for tonight. When they were in his bed. They’d shared his bed for the last two nights and she gave no indication she wouldn’t join him again. She and Jonathan were here for five more days before they went back to Connecticut. Five days of bliss, and pretense that his life was normal. If it was all he’d ever get, he’d take it.
Heather snapped a few pictures of the tree and them in front of it. She’d been clicking away on her phone the last few days and sending them to him. He appreciated she was helping him store memories.
“Build no-man, Mama?”
Callie looked down at their son’s hopeful face. “I have to help Auntie Heather put lights and decorations on the tree first.”
“I’ll take him out. You ladies can do all the frou frou stuff to the tree. We men will go out and build a man made of snow and maybe gather some sticks for the fire.” He pounded his fist against his chest and grunted. Jonathan mimicked him.
Chuckling, Callie shook her head. “Do you need help getting him in his snow gear?”
“I may not have been around much, but I think I can manage putting one little boy into snow pants and a coat.”
Helping a small child into snow gear wasn’t as simple as he first thought. There was an order to follow that he hadn’t gotten the memo on. Snow pants did not slip easily over boots, and mittens were best put on before the coat so they stayed neatly tucked inside. He shrugged on his own warm sweater, coat and the hat and gloves Heather had picked up for him at the store yesterday.
“Before we start the snowman, let’s pick up some of the fallen sticks and place them by the chalet door, pal. This way we’ll have them nearby when we’re cold and it’s time to go in.”
“I not told, daddy.”
“You aren’t cold now but later you might be. I know I will be since I don’t have the same warm coat and pants you do.”
They wandered around picking up sticks tossed there from the strong winds that had blown last night. The sound had been eerie and Callie had subconsciously snuggled closer to him in her sleep. He hoped the wind would continue each night they were here.
“Great job, pal. I think we have enough. Let’s get to making this snowman.”
Jonathan nodded and they spent the next half hour rolling and patting snow into place. They kept it small as Jack wanted Jonathan to be able to put some of the face details in place himself. He hated to admit picking his son up still hurt like a bastard.
They’d just shoved the stick arms into the side of the snow figure when a plop landed on his head and ice slid into the neck of his coat. He turned. Callie stood there, an impish grin on her face and another snowball in her hand.
“Why you—” Scooping up some snow, he ignored the twinge in his side and wrist, packed it tight and let it fly at her. She ducked behind a snow-covered rock then peeked out and threw the snow at him again.
“Jonathan, I need help, pal. Your mom is beating up on me. Snowballs. I need some snowballs. Can you make some for me, quick?”
Their son looked up and laughed as he and Callie exchanged projectiles. She was a damn fine pitcher.
“Oh, sure, target a wounded man with a bum wrist.” His hand did hurt but he loved teasing her anyway. She stopped for a moment, her face filled with concern. Using that split second of indecision, he whipped another snowball in her direction, landing on her shoulder. The look she gave him shouted loud and clear: All. Bets. Are. Off.
Jonathan mostly jumped up and down yelling, “Mama, daddy, no-ball.” He cheered each time one of them got a direct hit. It didn’t matter who. The fact he didn’t automatically cheer for Callie meant a lot to Jack. She’d been the boy’s only parent his whole life. His little skips in and out could hardly count.
He bent down to scoop up more snow when several wads of slush hit his head. Callie had moved closer and held another few snowballs in her arms. Rushing at her, he tackled her around the middle, ignoring the pain in his side. She fell back and he landed on top of her, pushing some snow into her neck.
“Ah, that’s cold,” she yelled. “Jonathan, I need help.”
The child merely laughed as he cavorted, throwing snow into the air.
“Sneaking up on me, huh? Hardly fair.”
Her face softened as she stared at him, her eyes so expressive. He could see right into her soul but he hated what he saw. The feelings she had for him were close to the surface and there was fear behind them. Not of him, never of him. He’d never hurt her. He hoped she knew that. Never intentionally anyway, but she’d still be hurt when he had to leave and say good-bye to this idyllic scenario they’d been playing out the last few days.
Kissing her nose, he rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll never stop trying to get back to you and Jonathan. I swear until my last breath, I’ll get you out of this situation with Victor.”
Raising her mitten covered hand, she placed it on his hat. “No talking about Victor or leaving. Not this week. This time is for us, no one else. Promise.”
“Promise.”
He sealed it with a kiss. This one started out gentle but the need in him grew. She must have felt it because she wrapped her arms around him and held tight like she’d never let go. Not that he wanted her to. Grabbing her and Jonathan and getting away, that’s what he wanted. Far away where Victor couldn’t reach them. For now he’d simply kiss her.
He couldn’t get enough of her mouth and plundered the recesses with his tongue. The little noises she made spurred him on. Damn, he wanted these clothes gone and her in a warmer place.
“Mama dot a boo-boo?” Jonathan’s concerned face appeared next to Callie’s. Jack leaned back and pulled the boy into his lap.
“No, I simply like kissing her because she’s so pretty.”
“Mama pwetty.”
Turning pink, she lifted herself from the snow. “You two.” She shook her head. “Why don’t we go in and have some hot cocoa? Auntie Heather and I got all the decorations up and we can plug in the lights and sit and watch them.”
Callie had to take a few pictures of Jonathan with his snowman before he would go in but she’d made Jack be in a few also. As they stripped off their wet coats he saw her clicking away at the phone, her face tense.
“What’s up?” He slipped his arm around her shoulder. She looked up, her expression almost guilty.
“I sent one of the pictures to Victor. So he’ll know we’re fine and Jonathan’s enjoying himself. Hopefully that way he won’t bother us while we’re here.”
“You didn’t send him one with me in it, did you?” he teased.
Her head whipped back down to her phone as she checked. She let out a huge breath. He hugged her close.
“I knew I hadn’t but then you got me nervous.” Her eyes flew up to his. “Oh, my God. What if he asks Jonathan about making the snowman? And Jonathan says he did it with his daddy? Jack?”
Taking the phone from her hands, he set it on the end table then pushed her in the direction of the roaring fire. “I’ll be over with hot cocoa soon. Relax.”
Heather had already heated the water so all it took was scooping the chocolate into cups. Adding extra milk to Jonathan’s to cool it quicker, he then settled on the floor, his back against the couch. First, he pulled Callie between his legs and she did the same with their son.
As they sat and watched the fire, he calculated odds of getting close enough to Victor to actually kill him. Yes, it was murder and he might go to jail, or get killed himself, but it might be the only way to get the man out of their lives. The odds weren’t good. But maybe…his mind went back to information he’d gotten when he worked for the mob boss. The risk was worth it. Callie and Jonathan were worth it. He’d do anything for them.
Finishing the drink, he set the cup aside and wrapped Callie in his arms. Nestling his nose in her curls, he inhaled her floral scent. Jonathan was practically asleep in her lap. She leaned against him and sighed. A contented sigh. That was the sound he wanted to hear always.
Slipping his hand under her thick sweater, he caressed the skin on her stomach. She looked over her shoulder at him and frowned.
“Jack? Our son is right here and Heather’s in the kitchen.”
A tiny snore drifted from Jonathan’s mouth and Jack quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t think he’ll notice anything unless you start moaning loud like you sometimes do.”
Her eyes narrowed. He let both hands roam now and cup her sweet curves. Her eyes drifted closed and her back arched slightly. When he nibbled on her neck, she trembled.
“No fair.”
“No one said life was fair, Calico. If it was, I’d be here with you and Jonathan all the time and not—” No talking about Victor she’d said. Remember that.
Moving his hands again, he skimmed them over her soft skin. He’d love to slide them into her pants and drive her to the edge of insanity, but she wasn’t always quiet when he pushed her there so he’d wait. Tonight was soon enough. Once their son was in bed they’d be free to explore all they wanted. And he definitely wanted.
As she stared into the fire, a tiny smile appeared on her face. What was she thinking? If he asked it would break the peace of the scene. For now, and the next few hours, he could sit and watch her and their son and imagine a life that was like this always.
* * * *
“Mama, daddy. Santa tum?”
Callie cracked open one eye and smiled at her son who literally danced on the floor next to the bed. It was too warm and comfortable to want to leave it though.
“Are you sure, sweetie? It’s still dark out. Maybe we should wait a bit.”
The pout on his face was enough to make her sit up. Jack leaned in behind her and reached for Jonathan.
“Come on up here, pal. Let’s snuggle for a bit before we go up. We need to make sure Santa has time to get everything under the tree.”
Jonathan rubbed his eyes and settled down between them. Damn, there went her warmth. Everything about Jack heated her up.
“Come on, Mommy, you snuggle in too,” Jack instructed. He linked his feet with hers and slid his hand across their son to rest on her hip. Closing his eyes, his breathing evened out. Had he fallen asleep again that quickly?
Squeezing her hip, he whispered, “A few extra minutes is all we might get, so don’t waste them.”
Exhaustion seeped through her but she didn’t want to stop looking at Jack. Especially with their son cuddled up close, sucking his thumb. Jonathan seemed content for now but soon he wouldn’t be. The whole Santa hype had been built up by his friends at preschool.
Last night they’d spent a few hours together wrapping Jonathan’s presents and it had made her soul weep. Doing things together for their son and being with each other, knowing it couldn’t stay that way. Later they’d spent hours touching and rediscovering and making sure they stored up enough memories to last for as long as they needed to.
Studying Jack, his face was more relaxed. Yes, he was somewhat asleep but when he’d first come, even in sleep, he’d had a haunted look about him. Having spent the last week here had taken away some of the tension around his eyes and eased the tightness in his face. The last few years had been hard on her, but it was nothing compared to what Jack had been going through. And she’d had Jonathan with her, keeping her sane, giving her a reason to live. Only bits and pieces of that had trickled through to him.
What could she do? She’d tried to help before and it had gotten her into this mess so she’d backed off and left it to the authorities. And they’d totally dropped the ball, leaving Jack hung out to dry. Maybe she could try again. Nothing big, but snooping around wouldn’t hurt. She’d managed to get a peek at the pictures in Victor’s office and get some numbers off his phone. There had to be more she could do while she had free rein of his house. Over the next few weeks, she’d give it some thought.
But not right now. For now she wanted to gaze at the man she loved. His dark hair flopped over his forehead, covering the thick eyebrows that could arch up and make her quiver with simply a look. She let her gaze wander down the strong column of his neck to his wide shoulders and the arms sprinkled with black hair. Those arms that made her feel safe and warm and cared for. Jack had never said the words to her but he’d shown her his feelings every second he’d been here this week. Should she let him know how she felt or would that bring more pain when they had to part again?
They got another half hour before Jonathan started asking about Santa. She insisted they all have a turn in the bathroom first and she grabbed a large sweatshirt to go over her tank top. Jack peeked into the room with the bunk beds and smiled.
“Scott’s still out cold. We’ll let him sleep through the initial present opening, huh?”
Scott had shown up last night in time for supper and Jack had relaxed even more. He was the only family Jack had left, besides Jonathan, and she was glad he’d been able to be here.
“Let’s see what Santa brought for you, pal.”
They traipsed quietly up the stairs and Jonathan’s eyes grew wide. The tree was still lit and dozens of gaily wrapped gifts huddled underneath it. He ran over but stopped and looked at his parents.
“What I do?”
“You open the ones that are yours, sweetie. Daddy and I can read them for you.”
She knelt down and picked up a present and handed it to him. He took no time in removing the wrapper and squealed at the block set inside.
“We pay it, daddy?”
“We can play with it later. You have some more presents and I think I’ll start a fire to warm this place up. Your mommy looks a little cold.”
The air was chilly but all it took was the desire in Jack’s eyes to start a fire burning inside her. Memories of the last week in his arms ignited flames she had to douse in front of her son.
Minutes later a fire roared in the hearth and Jonathan had opened the last of his presents. He bounced from one toy to another, not knowing which one he liked best. They watched their son, amused at his antics.
She made coffee as Jack disposed of the wrapping paper then they settled on the couch, his arm around her shoulder. Heather’s parents used to spend Christmas morning like this, sitting enjoying the children and each other’s company. She’d spent too many holiday mornings at their house. Would Jonathan even remember this day? He was so young.
“Jonathan, grab that gold present for me, huh?” Jack asked.
The child skipped over to the tree and brought the requested gift. He handed it to her and smiled. “This is a little gift from Jonathan and me.”
Their son had gone back to his toys but Jack kept his gaze on her as she pulled off the paper. It held a sturdy box and she held her breath as she opened it.
“Oh, Jack, it’s beautiful.” She held up the delicate gold chain with several charms hanging off it.
“I wanted something you could have to always remember us by. The cat is for you.”
He tapped his finger on the gold feline then moved it to the star. “And this is for Jonathan who will always be the star in your life.”
Adjusting the bracelet, she fingered the little golden heart dangling and shining brightly.
“That’s my heart, Calico. I want you to know no matter what happens, you’ll always have it. It’s yours forever.”
She blinked away the tears threatening to fall. Now was not the time to cry. Jack and Jonathan were with her and she should enjoy every second.
“Thank you, Jack. I love it.” She leaned in to kiss him and he cupped her face in his hands and worshiped her lips. There was no other term for it. He was gentle and caring and he made her feel as if there were no other woman in the world.
When he finished she eased back reluctantly. “We’ve got something for you too. Jonathan can you get the present for daddy?”
Jonathan stopped his play and picked up a parcel with hand drawn snowmen on it. He dropped it in Jack’s lap and whispered, “I do it, daddy.”
“You made this wrapping paper? Wow. It’s amazing. Let’s see what’s in here.”
He opened the gift carefully so he didn’t rip any of the drawings and pulled out a small frame. His eyes grew suspiciously damp.
“Did you do this too, pal?”
The trio of snowmen obviously made by a child decorated the blue page.
“That my foot,” the boy said, proudly then pointed to the puffy white clouds in the sky. “And my hand, right here.” He pointed to the side of his clenched fist.
“You made this all by yourself. It’s wonderful.”
Jonathan looked sheepish. “Mama help me.”
Jack leaned over and kissed her. “Thank you, Mama. I love it. I’ll make sure I keep this where I can see it all the time.”
“That me,” Jonathan pointed to the smallest of the snow people then went down the line. “That Mama and that you.”
She leaned closer, seeing Jack struggled with what to say. He blinked a few times then pulled Jonathan into his arms, holding him tight. It was something that had happened often this past week.
“I love you, pal.”
“Luh you, daddy.”
Sniffing, Jack held his son and kissed his cheek.
A tear slipped down her cheek at the scene. The pain on Jack’s face was evident. He knew this wouldn’t last. He squeezed again and repeated, “Love you. So much.”
Her heart splintered knowing what would happen tomorrow. Guilt also sank in. She was glad Jack could tell his son how he felt but she admitted she was envious. She wished he would say it to her.