Jackson Hole Valentine (20 page)

A sheepish look crossed his face. “I’m not sure.”

It hadn’t taken them long to realize that not only did they possess the same smart phone—great minds obviously think alike and all that—but each phone had been programmed with the same basic ringtone. While he’d promised to change his, his response told her that task was still on his “to-do” list.

Regardless, the jarring ring had shattered the moment. Cole glanced at the display screen then handed the phone to her. “Your phone. Your brother.”

She took the cell from his hands and shot him an apologetic look. “It’s Zac. I really need to take this.”

“Of course,” he said. “Do you want some privacy?”

“Not at all. Stay right where you are.” She clicked on the call. After several seconds of “can you hear me now?” the connection finally improved.

“It didn’t even sound like you,” Zac said. “I thought at first I’d reached some guy.”

“Well, my voice may be a bit low but no one has mistaken me for a man before,” Meg said with a smile. “Happy almost-Christmas, Zac. How are things with you?”

“I’ve been better.” For the first time, Meg picked up on the strain in her brother’s voice.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asked, falling back into that “mother” role with him. She had no idea whether he would share what was troubling him or skirt around the issue, but at least she had to try.

Growing up, Zac had been a closed book. It had been very difficult for her to “read” him. Yet, for the strain to be audible, whatever was going on must be serious. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cole look up from the newspaper he’d picked up and was pretending to read.

“I’m with Elisabeth’s family for Christmas,” he said. “That’s what’s wrong.”

A shower of static drowned out the rest of his words. “Zac. I can’t hear you. Call me back on the landline.”

Meg quickly rattled off Cole’s home number before the call was lost.

Cole lifted a brow. “Bad connection?”

Meg blew out a frustrated breath. “What else is new?”

She wondered if Zac would call back. It wouldn’t surprise her if he didn’t, but seconds later, the cordless phone rang.

“Sorry ’bout that,” Meg said in lieu of a greeting when she picked up the handset.

“No need to apologize to me. I used to live in Jackson Hole,” Zac reminded her in that brash manner she always associated with him. “I know all about the crappy cell reception in the mountains.”

“Okay,” Meg said with a laugh. “Apology retracted. Now, who’s Elisabeth? And what are you doing spending the holidays with her family?”

“Elisabeth—Lissa—is my girlfriend,” Zac said. “We’ve been together for a while now.”

“It must be serious.” As far as Meg remembered, this was the first time Zac had ever given her the name of a girl he was dating.

“I love her and she loves me,” Zac said in a matter-of-fact tone. “We have a baby. His name is Henry. He’s two months old.”

“Henry was the child you were thinking of leaving when we last talked.” Meg immediately regretted the comment. A wise woman knew to always gather her thoughts before blurting out something she might—make that,
did
—regret.

“I don’t know where you got that idea. I’d never leave my son.” An edge of steel ran through Zac’s tone. “Never.”

This time Meg took a second to consider her response.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” she said in a soothing tone, ignoring Cole’s curious glance. “You and Lissa must be serious if you have a baby and are spending Christmas with her family.”

For everyone’s sake, she hoped it
was
serious. Though Meg was a thoroughly modern woman, she still believed little Henry would do best with both his mother
and
his father in his life.

“Lissa is an only child,” Zac informed her. “She couldn’t bear the thought of us not seeing her mom and dad at Christmas.”

“Her being close to her parents is a good thing,” Meg said slowly, gingerly finding her way. Those years of raising teenagers had schooled her in the dangers of making suppositions.

“It might be if they thought I was the right man for her,” he said in a flat tone. “But they don’t.”

Meg fought against a motherly surge of indignation. Any family would be lucky to have her brother in it.

“Then they must not know you well enough,” Meg said in a conciliatory tone, sincerely hoping that was their only reservation. “Because if they did know you, they’d love you like I do.”

“Love.” Zac gave a little laugh. “Right now I’d settle for
like
.”

“Zac,” Margaret began but stopped when she heard her brother talking to someone in the background.

“Margaret,” he said after a couple of seconds, “I need to run. Have yourself a Merry Christmas with your new family. You deserve some happiness of your own.”

“Wait, Zac, don’t go. When are you going to call again?” Meg asked quickly before he could hang up. “I’d love to figure out a time when I can see you, meet Lissa and hold my new nephew.”

“Soon,” Zac said, then the line went dead.

Meg held the phone for several seconds before clicking off, trying to assimilate what she’d just heard.

“Everything okay?” Cole asked.

“My brother has a girlfriend and a baby, a little boy.” Meg still found herself unable to wrap her mind around the thought that Zac was a father. “The baby’s name is Henry, same as our dad.”

Her lips curved upward. For a man who seemed to prefer the less traditional route in life, Zac naming his firstborn after their father spoke volumes.

“Does Travis know?”

“I have no idea who Zac has told.” Meg rubbed a hand across her face. She didn’t want to talk about her brother. Not now anyway. She tilted her head. “What were we talking about before he called?”

“How much I enjoy being with you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“How beautiful you are.” Cole leaned forward, catching up pieces of her hair, rubbing the shiny auburn strands between his thumb and forefinger. “How incredibly sexy…”

Meg’s breath caught in her throat and her heart fluttered. This man definitely knew how to change a subject.

“There wasn’t one woman at that party as gorgeous as you,” he said in a deep husky voice.

Staring into the liquid blue of his eyes Meg almost believed him. Despite knowing that she could be over her head in seconds, there was something that drew her to him, that tempted her to take a step off the firm shore of what she’d always known and take a chance.

Before she knew what was happening, his mouth brushed hers, as soft as butterfly wings and just as gentle. Her lips were still tingling when he sat back. But if he thought he could get by with a drive-by kiss, he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did.

Meg scooted close and wound her arms around his neck. “Lexi’s house had mistletoe everywhere. When we were leaving I found myself thinking that it was a shame.” She pulled her lips together to form a pout. “No kisses for Meg beneath the mistletoe this year.”

Perhaps she should have stopped there. But she was having too much fun. She placed the back of her hand against her forehead and heaved a melodramatic sigh. “Poor, poor Meg.”

She expected Cole to laugh. To her surprise, his expression turned solemn. “Are you telling me you’d have kissed me at the party, in front of all those people?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have gone crazy and stuck my tongue in your mouth, if that’s what’s worrying you,” Meg said with a throaty chuckle. “But you bet your cup of cider I’d have kissed you underneath the mistletoe.”

A pleased look filled his eyes and his hand slid up her neck, getting tangled in her hair. “If you had kissed me, I’d have kissed you back. Just. Like. This.”

Meg didn’t have time to react when suddenly his lips were on hers. A firm kiss that let her know it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. A surge of desire rose inside her. Her breasts tingled and an ache took up residence low in her belly.

As they continued to kiss, the weight of his body pushed her down onto the cushions. Moving from her mouth, his lips traced the line of her jaw, his breath warm against her throat. She shivered and arched her neck, reveling in the fiery sensations sweeping like an out-of-control wildfire through her body.

Meg wanted Cole in a way she couldn’t ever remember wanting anyone before.

His hand closed over her breast just as a plaintive voice filtered down the stairs.

“Mommy. Daddy,” Charlie called. “My tummy hurts.”

Cole’s hand stilled.

Meg’s eyes met his. Her lips quirked upward. “Busted.”

He grinned. “Again.”

With a sigh of regret Meg pulled to her feet.

“Is he calling for Joy and Ty?” Cole pushed himself upright. “Or for us?”

“Does it matter?”

“Good point.”

“I’m coming, sweetie,” she called out loudly enough to reach the top of the stairs.

To her surprise Cold struggled to his feet. “I’m coming with you.”

“But the stairs…”

“Don’t worry. I won’t slow you down,” he said. “I’ll follow.”

“But—”

“I want to be there,” Cole said. “I want Charlie to know that while you’re there for him, I am, too. We’re a family, after all.”

Family.
Meg sure liked the sound of that word.

Contentment slid through her veins like warm honey. She crooked her arm through Cole’s. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“If Charlie wants me to sing him to sleep like he did before, you have to promise not to laugh.”

Chapter Fourteen

T
wo days later, even before Cole stepped out of the shower, he knew in his gut that it would be a good day. During the night the snow had stopped falling, the sun now shone brightly and his relationship with Meg was on the upswing.

When Cole saw the DNA testing kit in his underwear drawer, he experienced a surge of excitement. Ever since he’d arrived in Jackson Hole, he’d been waiting for just the right opportunity to get a sample from Charlie.

The little boy was used to the old-fashioned thermometer popping in and out of his mouth. Taking four cheek swabs should be a breeze. All Cole had to do was figure out how to get the samples in the mail.

With below-freezing wind chills, leaving a package out for the mail carrier didn’t seem prudent. He could hardly ask Meg to hand it to the postman without prompting a slew of questions. And, at this point, he didn’t want to involve her in this matter until he knew if Charlie was indeed his son.

After pulling on his jeans, Cole tugged a University of Texas sweatshirt over his head then put on his shoes. He secured the brace on his knee then opened the drawer again, letting his gaze linger on the package containing the testing supplies.

Yes, today
would
be a perfect day. All he had to do was figure out how to get the envelope in the mail.

“This is fabulous coffee.” Meg peered at Cole over the rim of her mug. As far as she was concerned, nothing beat a good cup of joe in the morning.

“Umakkamecrazy is the perfect blend for any time of day,” Cole said, sounding more like the CEO of the fastest-growing coffee chain in the United States than her housemate. “How was your night?”

Her lips tipped in a wry smile. “You mean after I ran into you skulking around the kitchen and screamed bloody murder?”

“Hey, I was thirsty,” he said. “I was as surprised as you were.”

Meg sincerely doubted that. At 2:00 a.m., she’d slipped downstairs to get a snack. When she’d bumped into a strong, muscular chest in the dark, she’d almost peed her pants. Nope, she could guarantee
she
was the one who’d been more surprised.

“It was a rough night,” Meg said. “Charlie’s stomach had him in the bathroom every couple of hours. Thankfully it seems better this morning and he’s able to sleep. He didn’t even wake up the last time I took his temp.”

“You have to be exhausted,” Cole said.

“I’m okay.” Meg covered a yawn with her hand.

“Remember our deal.” Cole slathered a thick swath of grape jam across his toast. “I watch Charlie this afternoon while you take a nap.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Meg said with a sigh. “I’m just not sure there will be time.”

“Why not?” Cole’s gaze lifted from the toast. “We don’t have any plans.”

“We
didn’t
have any plans.” Meg stirred a spoonful of brown sugar into her oatmeal. “While you were in the shower, I got bombarded with phone calls. Our social calendar is now full.”

Okay,
bombarded
may have been a bit strong for two calls. But considering the phone rarely rang, it had felt like a whole lot more.

“Who called?”

“Ryan.” Meg glanced at her cell phone lying on the table and checked the time. “In fact, he should be here in about fifteen minutes.”