Hayley Gardner

A Baby In His Stocking


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belong together—but I guess we proved him wrong, didn’t we?”

      “Yeah, we sure did.”

      So much for lightening the mood, Jared thought. Unless he missed his guess, Shea was on the verge of tears. He’d already made her cry too many times. He wanted to go, but somehow he just couldn’t say no to her again and walk away. Not when she wanted the help so much.

      “Congratulations on the promotion,” he said. “You always did enjoy the store and everything about it.”

      “I think loving and being committed to Denton’s is a requirement before you can bear the family name,” she said.

      “I’m surprised you ever agreed to leave Quiet Brook to come with me.”

      “I loved you more than the store and the town,” she admitted softly. “More than anything.”

      “And I messed that up, didn’t I?” His jaw moved as he surveyed her deep green eyes and high cheekbones and found her usually expressive face unreadable. “Give me a reason to stay, Shea,” he urged, his voice low. “One that I can understand.”

      He was trying, Shea realized, only she’d run out of reasons for him to stay. The one she wanted—for him to stay for her—wouldn’t work.

      “How about this?” she asked slowly, brainstorming. “If you stay and find the Grinch, you’d be saving Christmas for the needy in a small town in the heartland. A story like that hits the tabloids, and you’d be famous and get loads of publicity for your agency. What do you think?”

      “I think that sounds pretty close to being exploitative,” Jared said. “And cynical. You wouldn’t want me to take unfair advantage of the public’s gullibility, would you?”

      “Yes?”

      He shook his head, pretending sadness. “Being married to me has warped your precious small-town values a little. But I’m still unconvinced. Want to give up now so I can go?”

      “Okay, Jared,” she said, too calmly for his peace of mind, “I wasn’t going to do this, but you’ve driven me to it. I’ll beg. I’ll even throw something in it for you. If I agree to be very, very, nice—” she blinked the thick black lashes of her eyes and closed the distance between them “—will you please stay and help me make Christmas special for the needy kids in Quiet Brook?”

      The closer she got, the more Jared wanted to stay, and not just because he wanted her. It was everything about her that enticed him, including the fact that she cared enough about him to want to give him the family life he’d never had. She was the one woman who might have filled the hole in his life, he realized, but he couldn’t let her—for her own sake.

      He didn’t want to hurt her any further, so he backed away ever so slightly. “I can’t help you, Shea.”

      Her face fell. “Why did I possibly imagine mentioning little boys and girls in the store with no Santa in sight would faze you?” she asked, her voice sadder than he’d ever heard it.

      Her mention of small kids brought the image of that little sandy-haired girl in Denton’s back into his mind. Jared couldn’t move, thinking about how that child had been so damned worried about Shea—and so certain of herself. It was almost as if he’d been visited by... No, he wasn’t going to be sidetracked by the magic-of-Christmas bit. Stupid, fanciful thoughts would get him nowhere.

      She’d struck some chord inside him. Shea knew it, could see the second his eyes changed. Taking a deep breath, she forged on. “There’s something else.”

      He waited. The crisp air seemed to crackle with electricity between them. She crossed her fingers, both for luck and because of the little lie she was about to tell.

      “Mack’s condition is worse than I led you to believe.” Maybe it wasn’t such a lie. Her father’s condition would definitely take a turn for the worse if Mack ever heard about what she’d just said to his best friend.

      Jared hadn’t been expecting that, and the news took his breath away. “If this is a trick, I’m not sure what I’m going to do to you,” he warned. “But I guarantee that it won’t be anything with Christmas spirit in it.”

      “I wouldn’t tempt Fate lying about something like this,” she said, crossing her fingers again under the cover of his jacket.

      “You should have told me earlier.” But Jared couldn’t sustain his irritation, not when he was overridden with worry for his friend and the thought that if something happened to Mack, he would really be irretrievably alone—and so would Shea.

      His throat went dry. Mack was the one person who had never wanted anything from him, no matter what, seemingly from the second they’d met. And Mack’s loyalty was limitless. Even when Shea had left him, Mack had refused to take sides. He’d do anything for Mack—and Shea knew it.

      Yeah, Shea knew it. He gave her a suspicious look. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about your father’s health before?”

      “I didn’t want you to stick around before. Then Mack did his blackmailing bit, and now I need you here.”

      Jared wasn’t at all worried about Mack doing anything to Shea that she didn’t probably deserve, but he had to ask. “What did Mack threaten you with?”

      She looked like she might not answer. As she hesitated, she moved her arms, and his jacket almost slipped off her shoulders. Without thinking, Jared stepped forward and drew it around her again. He could hear her breathing stop and then he backed away, cursing himself for losing his control. He shouldn’t touch her. He really shouldn’t touch her.

      “Mack basically told me if I wasn’t nice to you while you were here, he’d lay me off work until you left.”

      In the front porch light, Shea could see a slow grin cross Jared’s face, lighting up his eyes. A true smile of honest amusement. Caught by surprise, almost mesmerized, she finally released her breath, which she seemed to have been holding forever. Then the meaning of his smile penetrated.

      “Wait a minute. You think Mack’s blackmailing me is funny?”

      “Hell, yes. Ironic.” His chuckle resonated from deep within. “Shea Burroughs actually needed to be threatened to show Christmas spirit? You were always so full of Christmas spirit, I used to think you could convince Scrooge to change into Santa Claus.”

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