A Father for Christmas: A Veteran’s Christmas, #1 Read online

  Tyler squeezed his fists inside his pockets. He wasn’t about to speculate or contradict Carina. “Thank you for the tickets. I’ll prepare the speaker’s folders and have them on your desk by tonight.”

  “Great. Lock up. I won’t be back until late. Dylan’s sure to take all day.” She picked up her suit jacket and purse and gave him a stiff smile. “Try not to blame yourself. You didn’t know. Next time, make it your business to know everything about everyone who contacts Warspring. Our reputation is all that we have as far as donors are concerned.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Tyler wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to his work after sending Sawyer an email about the audition.

  As for Kelly, he was through with her. He should have trusted his instincts and not pushed her to apply for the job. It was obvious she’d been hiding something, although truth to tell, he thought it was Bree’s father. He hadn’t believed her artificial insemination story.

  But insider trading? Wall Street greed? Bailouts? Fraud? Junk securities foisted on unsuspecting pension plans? Wiping out honest people’s savings? Kelly had been a part of it. Not just a part, but she’d hoped to profit by cheating.

  How well did he know her? Apparently not well enough. The façade she played at her church was just that: the efficient volunteer, the careful mother, the independent woman. How much was real? She’d only expressed real interest in him after he’d gotten the job at Warspring. Had she been planning on using him to bilk Warspring?

  He was still creating the handouts when someone rang the buzzer. The receptionist was out, so Tyler answered it.

  “Kelly.” He startled at the sight of her and sucked in a breath. She was stunning, more stunning than her friend, the redhead, looking every bit the investment banker from her well-tailored suit jacket to the tips of her shiny black leather pumps.

  “Am I late?” Kelly glanced over his shoulder at the clock.

  “No, you didn’t get Carina’s email?”

  She stepped in after him. “I last checked before getting on the train. Why? Did she have to go somewhere?”

  “Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a smartphone.” Tyler rocked on the balls of his feet. “You can login from my computer, or I can boot up the receptionist’s.”

  He reached under the desk and turned it on. “I have to finish the speaker’s materials. I’ll be right over there.”

  “Tyler?” Kelly placed a hand on his arm. “You won’t even look at me. You know, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know, and so does Carina.” He jerked himself away from her. He’d seen his family and neighbors lose their homes and farms, and had their small businesses swallowed up by vulture capitalists.

  Kelly followed him to his cubicle. “I can explain.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I’m busy.”

  “I understand.” She lowered her face and turned toward the door. “All I wanted was a chance, a second chance.”

  Tyler’s throat was dry, his mouth frozen, but he didn’t stop her from walking out the door.

  17

  ~ Kelly ~

  “Hey, you’re back early.” Ella glances from the couch and switches off the TV. “Bree’s doing better. She’s a little sleepyhead, but she ate lunch and drank lots of fluids. How did the interview go?”

  “It was over before it even started.” I kick off my uncomfortable but stylish heels. “They knew.”

  “Crap. What about Tyler? What did he say?”

  “He doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” I recount his attitude, how he couldn’t even speak two kind words to me.

  “He doesn’t know why you did it. How desperate we all were with Mother’s apartment in foreclosure, and her insurance company upping the premiums.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I broke the law. Thanks for watching Bree.”

  “I thought he was into you. I can’t believe he didn’t listen.” Ella follows me to Mother’s bedroom where I’d left my street clothes.

  “I don’t need him anyway. It’s all for the best. At least Bree won’t get hurt.” I blink and turn toward the wall.

  “Do you think he’ll still come to Bree’s Christmas play?”

  “I doubt it.” I unbutton my linen shirt and hang it. “I saw tickets on the printer for the Annual Donor’s Ball for Friday. One of them had my name on it and another one had Sawyer McGee, Tyler’s friend who busks in the subway.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it? He was planning to invite you.”

  I unzip my skirt. “Was. Did he think I’d miss Bree’s play for his fancy ball? Doesn’t matter now. He didn’t invite me.”

  “That sucks.” Ella crosses her arms and juts her jaw. “Really sucks. If I ever see Tyler, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. Arrogant wuss.”

  It’s always heartwarming to have family stick up for me. I reach over and grab my sister for a hug. She might have her quirks and lives in a world of dance and costumes, but she’s always had my back, even though she’s more than ten years younger than me.

  “Don’t worry about it. Bree and I will be just fine without Tyler.”

  “Is Ty coming to Chwistmas play?” Bree’s little voice pipes from the doorway.

  I throw on a t-shirt and pick her up, pressing a hand on her forehead. “You feeling better, honey? You’re not as hot.”

  “Me not hot. Yay!” Bree puts both hands up in the air like she crossed the finish line at a race. “I want Ty to play reindeer with me. He can let me ride on his back. I tie a string on his nose and pull.”

  “Ty’s busy. Maybe Jaden can do the reindeer for you,” I say, darting a glance at Ella.

  “Yes, Jaden’s a funny reindeer. He can jump and prance all the way up the chimney.” Ella pantomimes reindeer prancing on the rooftop.

  Bree claps her hands. “You marry Jaden and Mommy marry Ty. I be flower girl.”

  “Whee!” Ella takes Bree from me and spins her around. “Want to put on that daisy costume I made for you? I’ll be the ladybug and you can be a flower.”

  “Will Mommy be the bumblebee?”

  “Yes, perfect!” Ella squeals.

  “Oh, no, if I bad girl, Mommy sting me.”

  “She won’t. Bees love flowers because they make honey from flowers.” Ella flows a kiss on Bree’s cheeks.

  She’s good at distraction. I finish changing and hang my clothes in the dry cleaning bag. I won’t be needing business outfits at the rate things are going. My cleaning shift starts in a few hours so I better start cooking dinner.

  ~ Tyler ~

  Tyler completed his tasks early. After updating all the slides, he printed and collated the handouts and assembled the folders. It was a little after five, and he still had time to catch Kelly before her six to midnight shift at Mogul.

  He shouldn’t have let her walk out without giving her a chance. Hadn’t she given him a chance when she trusted him with Bree after knocking her down? She’d even allowed him to take her to the park and hang out with her family.

  A dull ache sat in his belly at the way he’d dismissed her, as if she were nothing but a common criminal. During his break, he’d searched the internet. Her mother had been at death’s door and her apartment was being foreclosed on. Her friend, Rebecca Morley, had raised money for Kelly’s legal fees. The website was still up. Not that it was right or moral, but Kelly had wanted to pay for her mother’s costly treatments.

  She’d been remorseful and earned a light sentence. Shouldn’t he, of all people, allow her a chance to explain? Besides, when Kelly walked out, it was like a piece of him left with her, leaving him hollow and achy.

  He stopped by a florist and bought a bouquet of gardenias and lilies, adding a giant candy cane to his purchase.

  ~ Kelly ~

  Donna, the receptionist, hangs up the phone and wags her eyebrows. “He’s been here again.”

  A bouquet of roses, larger than yesterday’s orchids, sits on the front desk of Mogul Bank.

  “You keep them.”

  Donna
makes a sad pouty face. “He’s not interested in me. Why would I want his flowers?”

  “I don’t know. Donate them? I can’t eat or gift them.”

  “Whatever happened, he’s awfully sorry,” Donna says, handing me a golden box of chocolates. “Let’s see, Monday was the gardenias and lilies with the jumbo candy cane, Tuesday, assorted tulips and giant lollipop, yesterday orchids and chocolate dipped strawberries, and now we’ve graduated to red roses. You know what they say about red roses and a box of Godiva chocolates. L. O. V. E.”

  “It’s nothing like that. I gotta get to my job.” I keep the chocolates and take one last look at the array of flowers, my heart aching at the emptiness of the gesture. He feels guilty, nothing else.

  I slave over the kitchens and bathrooms, wiping up a conference room with more spills and splats than an elementary school cafeteria. Must have been some food fight.

  By midnight, I’m exhausted. The day off tomorrow is a godsend. I tuck the box of chocolates under my arm and exit the building. Bree’s been sleeping over at Mother’s all week because Ella’s home from college and plays with her all day.

  I exit the building and head for the BART. The last train departs in less than half an hour so I have to hurry.

  “Kelly.” Tyler jogs up to me. “Can we talk?”

  He’s wearing his old raincoat, a pair of holey jeans, a sweatshirt, and a watch cap. He presents a single red rose, probably plucked from the bouquet he knew I wasn’t going to keep.

  “Not now. I’m running late.” I avoid facing him and keep walking.

  “I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did.”

  “Why not? I’m a convicted felon.” My voice is hard and clipped.

  “You paid your penalty. I’m sure jail was unpleasant.”

  “Look, if it makes you feel better, thanks for the candy. Bree and my mother enjoyed them, although I didn’t tell them who donated them.” I increase my speed to a jog.

  “Kelly, don’t cut me off.”

  “I’m not, but if I don’t make that train, I’ll miss the connecting bus and I’ll have to walk the rest of the way home.”

  He grabs my arm. “I’ll call a cab.”

  “I’m not riding in a cab with you, and I can’t afford the fare. You know that. Not many employers will take a chance with a jailbird.”

  He punches something on a new smartphone. “Stay still. A car’s coming.”

  “Take the chocolate.” I shove the golden box into his hands and sprint toward the train station.

  “Kelly.” He gives chase and runs me down within a block, grabbing my arm. “Give me a chance. Everyone deserves a second chance. Don’t I?”

  A car honks and a yellow cab pulls to the curb. Tyler opens the door. What choice do I have? At the rate he keeps stopping me, I’ll miss public transportation.

  I slide into the back seat, and he gets in after me. He doesn’t attempt to speak to me, preferring to chat up the driver, an Ethiopian man who used to be a college professor.

  We arrive at my apartment. Tyler pays the fare. Silently, I walk to my unit with him glued to my side.

  “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” I ask when I open my sliding glass door.

  “They gave me the day off in light of the Donor’s Ball. I got a ticket for you.”

  I step into my apartment and turn on the light. “Sorry, can’t go. Bree’s play, remember?”

  “You must be really tired.” He puts a warm hand on my shoulder. “Her play is Saturday night. I checked the church website.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He shows me the screen on his smartphone. Sure enough, I had the date wrong.

  “I’m still not going to the ball with you. I’m sure I won’t be welcome. They’d think I was there to steal from them.”

  He grabs me be the arms. “Stop it. Stop cutting yourself down.”

  “I’m only speaking the truth. What changed? Did you read up about me? What my friends said? What my family was going through? What jail was like for me? How they abused me because I was the Gucci girl? The rich white bitch? The guards would randomly announce a search, dump out our mattresses and make us strip naked and squat in front of them, like we’re hiding knives in our private parts. Humiliated, degraded, and humbled. Is that why you’re here?”

  “No.” His grip tightens. “I’m here because I care about you. I want to help you.”

  “Sorry.” I peel his hands from me. “I’m not your project.”

  He grabs both sides of my cheeks and lowers his head until we’re nose to nose. “I want you, Kelly, as a woman.”

  Sparks fly and my resistance short circuits behind the tide of wanting and needing. His lips meet mine, fitting perfectly. Sensations I’ve never felt before bloom over my body, everything coming alive.

  His lips and tongue speak to my very soul, comforting and exciting. He backs me until my legs touch the sofa. I float down onto the cushions. Tyler sheds his raincoat onto the floor and kneels at the side of the couch.

  Our lips reconnect. There’s an urgency, a hunger that wasn’t there before. He slides over me, propping himself with his elbows, his knees still on the floor.

  He smells rough, like he’d been out in the sun, unlike the smooth banker fragrance he wore earlier. My hands sneak under his sweatshirt. Our lips part as I pull the shirt over his head, then rejoin after a gasp of air.

  I drag my hands over his chest, the light sprinkling of hair in the center, then trace the intricate dragon tattoo over his shoulder and down his back.

  He removes his black watch cap, and his hair falls onto my forehead. We continue to kiss, growing hungrier with each stroke, each smack.

  I’m hot and want to remove my sweatshirt. Pausing to pull it up, I interrupt the kiss. Instead of helping me, Tyler’s body tenses and he pushes away from me. I toss my shirt, but it’s too late.

  He gets off the floor and stands. “I came to talk to you, not to seduce you.”

  Shame engulfs me, heating my skin red hot. I close my eyes and lay back. Nervous laughter jiggles my belly. “I’m tired. I can’t go on like this.”

  “If you want to sleep, I’ll stay here on the couch.” His voice is gentle, comforting. “We can talk in the morning.”

  “That sounds good. I’m going to take a shower.” I lift myself from the sofa and pull a blanket from the linen closet. “Will this be warm enough?”

  “For a guy who sleeps on the street, this is a 5-star hotel.” He shakes the blanket over the sofa. “Good night. Thanks for letting me stay.”

  18

  ~ Kelly ~

  A man’s choked scream wakes me. I sit up in my bed, my heart racing. It’s silent. Did I dream it? I turn over and rest my head on the pillow. My pulse swishes in my ear. There it is again. A garbled cry. Tyler.

  Rushing into the living room, I find him on the floor, his eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. He’s thrown the blanket.

  “Tyler.” I kneel and reach for him.

  “Stay back.” He blocks my progress. His breathing is rapid and shallow, and sweat runs down his forehead, plastering his blond curls to his temples.

  “Tyler, I’m here.” I maneuver myself into his field of vision.

  Gradually the blank stare gives way to recognition and his breathing slows. His jaw slackens and he whispers, “Kelly.”

  His eyes twitch and close. He sucks in several loud breaths, shuddering in between, but he seems calmer.

  I brush the hair from his face and kiss his cheek. “Are you okay?”

  He doesn’t answer. His chest rises and falls steadily, as if he’s fallen back asleep. Taking a wet paper towel, I wipe the sweat from his face, then blow.

  “That feels good,” he murmurs.

  “You’re awake?”

  He doesn’t answer, but when I pull his hand and tell him to get up, he complies. I lead him to my bed and pull him in with me.

  He sighs and relaxes as soon as he hits the mattress. “I need you.”

  “Stay
here with me.” I rest my head on his chest and he wraps his arms around me. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

  “Me either.” He kisses the top of my head.

  I yawn and close my eyes, lulled by his steady, strong heart. Every thump speaks of another chance, another tomorrow, a future, and maybe, just maybe, a father for Bree.

  When I wake, Tyler is already up. He wipes his wet hair with a towel. “I took a shower, I hope it’s okay.”

  I allow my eyes to feast on him. It’s more than okay. He’s muscular, but not bulky. Water droplets glisten on his chest, and the tattoo running over his shoulder around his bicep sharpens his sexiness.

  I swallow hard and lighten the mood. “Of course. I always bring guys home for a shower.”

  He chuckles, pulling on the towel to dry himself. “Did I scare you last night?”

  “Come, sit here.” I pat the bed. “You didn’t scare me. You never do.”

  “I’m taking my meds, trying to keep everything in control.” His weight lowers the mattress. “I’m really trying.”

  “So am I.”

  Trying to keep from jumping your bones.

  I lower my gaze to his legs. “I’m not a criminal.”

  “You’re not. I trust you.” He rubs my shoulder, kneading away the tension.

  A flurry of excitement spreads from his firm, strong hands. I almost purr at the sparks arcing between us. I can’t let him know how he affects me. I’m not a weak woman.

  Stiffening my back, I give him a push. “You’re only saying that because you have nothing to steal. Try trusting me with the assets of your foundation.”

  “I’ll speak to Dylan. He’ll give you a chance.”

  “I don’t deserve it. I lied to them.” I swing my legs from the bed. “So, what are we going to do today?”

  “Play hooky. Spend the day together, and go to the ball tonight. I’m sure you have a few clothes left.” He lifts his jaw in an arrogant tilt, smirking.

  Since when did I agree to go to the ball with him? Get the man a job and suddenly he’s Prince Charming?