like me today so I can’t come in the room.”
“Rose!” Natalie yelled, trying to be louder than the television cartoons. Rose had an imaginary dog that didn’t like much of anyone except Rose. Whenever she was in a mood, she claimed Puppy would bite anyone who came into her bedroom—a room that also belonged to her sister.
Of her twins, Lily was the quieter, the more docile child, though sometimes when the two girls were together they could both be a handful.
The other twin, wearing a backward baseball cap and lime-green frog slippers appeared in the hallway. “Are we going to get a Christmas tree? Ashley already has one with ten presents under it.”
Natalie ignored the obvious distraction technique. Rose was an expert at distraction. Natalie crossed the room to lower the volume on the TV set. “Play nicely with your sister or Santa might not bring you anything at all this year. No need for a tree in that case.”
Rose perched a hand on one hip. “Mom! There is no Santa Claus.”
Lily piped up at that. “Yes, there is. I saw him. Remember?”
Rose shot her sister a look. She might only be two minutes older, but sometimes she behaved as though Lily was two. “That was Daddy. Santa doesn’t come anymore since Daddy died.”
Natalie’s heart twisted right in half. Justin had dressed up in a Santa suit every year after the twins were born. He got such a kick out of their squealing reactions and out of making out with Mrs. Claus after the girls were fast asleep. But she couldn’t for the life of her imagine how Rose could remember all that.
She went down on her knees in front of her daughter and pulled her close with one hand as she reached for Lily with the other. “Santa came last year. You just didn’t see him.”
“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Mom,” Rose said, far too grown-up for Natalie’s comfort. “The presents are from you and Grandma in Arizona. I can tell. Santa always brought big stuff.”
Oh, yes, Justin bought out the local toystore every year. “Well, big or not, lady, we always have Christmas.”
“It’s not about the stuff, anyway, is it, Mommy?” Lily, the peacemaker spoke up.
“No, sweetie, Christmas is not about the stuff.” Though Justin had spoiled both her and the girls, Natalie had tried hard to teach them the real meaning of Christmas. Money may be tight now, but she wanted them to know how blessed they were. “Which reminds me. The three of us need to decide our Christmas project for this year. Shall we save pennies for the Salvation Army bell ringers? Pick an angel from the angel tree? Bake cakes for the homeless shelter? Your choice.”
Rose and Lily screwed their identical faces into expressions of deep thought.
Finally, Lily asked, “If we bake cakes, will you let us help?”
The question took Natalie aback. Let them help? Two monkeys in her kitchen? “I don’t know, girls. Let me give it some thought.”
“We’ll be real careful. We won’t stick our fingers in the icing or anything.”
“Or lick the spoon,” Lily put in.
“Or nothing gross like that. We’re not little kids anymore.”
Natalie suppressed a smile. She had to love their independent spirits. She of all people should understand what it felt like to be told she couldn’t do something. Justin had never wanted her to work, never thought she could handle the pressure of doing anything because of her diabetes. In his macho, overprotective way, he’d stolen her independence. She’d felt loved instead of insulted, but after his death, she’d only felt helpless.
“You know, I think you girls are right.”
The twins exchanged wide-eyed glances. “We are?”
“Uh-huh. But you will have to promise not to touch anything that I’m working on for the business. Deal?”
They both nodded solemnly, saying in unison. “Deal.”
“High-fives all around?”
The three slapped high-fives before Natalie grabbed them into a bear hug, tumbling onto the floor for a shower of kisses. Lord, how she loved her babies.
The timer went off again and she untangled herself from the pile of arms and legs to answer the call. She had tester cakes to bake for several brides with appointments at Belle’s on Monday and a cake to decorate for a baby shower tomorrow.
Suddenly friends again, the twins dashed off to make Christmas plans while she got busy. Multitasking was her middle name. Two cakes in the ancient oven, another in progress on the counter, clothes in a basket to be folded and lunch still to be prepared. Her day never ended, but she could deal with that. At least she was making her own way, not being a pretty parasite on a man’s arm.
As she shut the dishwasher with her foot while adding food coloring to six different bowls of frosting, Lily let out a yelp just as the doorbell chimed. Natalie jumped, splattering red down the front of her sweater onto the top of her foot.
The doorbell ding-donged again.
Rose streaked into sight. “I’ll get it, Mom.”
“Don’t open that door,” she warned.
Too late. A blast of artic air sucked the warm, toasty fragrance of caramel pecan cheesecake out into the frigid Saturday afternoon.
“Rose!” she yelled, frustrated that her daughter could never remember to peek before opening. A serial killer would have no problem gaining entrance into this house.
She came around the row of tables piled with her baking tools just as Rose remembered her instructions and tried to shut the door again. A gloved hand shot out, palm up, to brace the door open.
A jolt of concern raced up Natalie’s back. That was a man’s hand. Black leather gloves. No fingerprints.
Rushing now to protect her child, she stumbled over the basket of clothes in the living room and pitched forward, catching her hip on the coffee table.
“That’ll leave a mark,” a deep voice said.
She looked up to find Cooper Sullivan now inside her house, once again sliding an arm around her waist to lead her to a chair. She felt small and helpless and protected.
“This is starting to be a habit.”
Natalie didn’t like feeling helpless. Been there, done that.
“This is starting to be ridiculous,” she said, scowling at Rose. “Shut that door, Rose Isabella, and go to your room.”
The two names rolled off her tongue with ease. She’d said them far more times than Lily Alexandra.
Rose obeyed, her look of chagrin indicating she knew when to make an exit.
Natalie needed to rub her hip bone but not in front of Cooper. What was he doing here, anyway?
“Cooper,” she said, through gritted teeth. “What a surprise.”
A low rumble of laughter. “Maybe I should have called first.”
“Maybe.”
“I could leave.”
“No, of course not. Don’t be silly.” It wasn’t his fault her heart was beating too fast and she’d made a fool of herself in his presence—again. “Take off your coat and have a seat. I’ll be recovered in a moment.”
She gave up and rubbed the smarting hip.
“You’re going to have a bruise,” he said as he slipped out of his coat and draped the long garment over the back of the couch. “Want me to have a look?”
Raising her eyes, she shot him a glare intended to melt iron. He laughed. “Maybe some ice instead?”
“I don’t