Catherine Mann

Playboys' Christmas Surprises


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on another day. For Christmas let’s serve something totally different this year. A standing rib roast...” She snapped her fingers. “Or I know—how about we have a shrimp boil?”

      “A shrimp boil? For Christmas?”

      “Yes,” she said, warming to the idea, feeling in control of the holiday and her new life for the first time. “In the Carolinas we call it frogmore stew, but down here it would be a shrimp boil. Shrimp, corn, new potatoes, maybe crawfish or crab or sausage in it, as well. We could have corn-bread stuffing, or crab and corn bread stuffing. What do you think?”

      He held up a Santa hat and plopped it on her head. “I think you’re so excited I’ll eat anything if it makes you smile like that.” His hand slid down to cup her face. “I’ve missed your smile.”

      Again, she thought about how he must feel in this situation. He’d lost his wife, for all intents and purposes. First to the coma and now to her inability to remember what they’d been to each other. And this certainly couldn’t have been how he’d envisioned their first Christmas with their child. “I’m sorry for all the pain this is causing you.”

      “I’m not in pain right now. I’m happy. Really happy.”

      His eyes shone with sincerity that sent tingles into her stomach.

      “Let’s shop. This is one time I won’t complain about all that money you have. Let’s be Santa.”

      She pushed the cart forward to the next line of plush toys.

      “I like the way you think. And I’m a sucker for stuffed animals.” He tossed a giant polar bear at her. She caught it easily.

      She waved it in front of Thomas, and even gave the bear a voice. Porter pulled down a small duck and started to play along with her.

      It felt so natural. As if they were a normal family. As if they all belonged together. The baby giggled at the impromptu theater provided by his parents.

      An elderly lady walked up to them. “If all parents were like you two, the world would be a wonderful place. You’re giving that child the gift of imagination. It’s lovely. What a beautiful family.” The elderly lady grabbed a small teddy from the shelf.

      “Thank you, ma’am.” Porter rubbed his hand over Alaina’s shoulder.

      His hand sent her senses tingling. It had felt so natural. So perfect. Maybe there was a shot for them all after all.

      “Merry Christmas. Y’all enjoy him while he’s that small and adorable. Before you know it, he’ll be a teenager asking for a car.” She smiled at them and continued farther into the store.

      “A car?” Porter chuckled, plucking up a rattle shaped like a race car. “Easy enough for now. And clearly the polar bear and duck have to come home. They have Thomas’s stamp of approval.”

      “I think you are right. I really like this elephant, too, though.” She scooped the blue elephant off the shelf and her hand tightened.

      The inky tendrils of a memory pushed into her mind. It felt as if she was underwater without goggles. It was unfocused at first. She and Porter at a friend’s baby shower around the holidays. Laughing at the party. Overwhelmed with joy for their friends, for the baby that was about to come into their lives.

      But knowing all the while that a baby wasn’t about to enter her and Porter’s life. How hard it was for them to go back home to their house on Christmas knowing they couldn’t conceive. How much pain welled in her chest even now at the thought of that Christmas.

      “What is it? What’s wrong?” Porter asked, concern flooding his voice as he took the elephant from her.

      The memory evaporated and she sank down, sitting on the edge of a display platform. “I just remembered something. From before. From a Christmas a few years ago, I’m not sure exactly when.”

      “Tell me,” he insisted, kneeling beside her while keeping his hand securely on Thomas.

      She struggled to remember every detail as if that might pry out more. “We went to a baby shower after finding out we couldn’t conceive... I just...” Her voice trailed off. The words faded and closed in her throat.

      “Shhh. It’s okay.” He wrapped an arm around her. Drew her close as ragged breaths escaped her throat. His embrace was somehow more familiar than the kiss, more real.

      He stroked her back, murmured into her hair. This moment felt like the first thing she’d really shared with Porter since waking from the coma. And she sank into that feeling.

      Would she be able to hang on to that once they returned home? Or would it evaporate like that ethereal memory?

       Six

      Porter had a knack for presentation and plans. It was a skill he’d picked up as he grew his construction empire. And it was something easily transferred to romance. He was a big-picture kind of guy.

      And if any of his visions needed to pan out, it was this one.

      The day after their shopping outing, he led Alaina through the house, hands covering her eyes.

      “You swear you can’t see?” His body pressed against hers as they shuffled forward. The light scent of her coconut shampoo wafted in the inches between them, making him remember the countless nights they’d spent together. How he wanted that now. Wanted her now.

      But he had to put recovering their family first. Taking her to bed would jeopardize his plans since she didn’t trust him yet.

      “I swear. But what is all this about?”

      “It’s a surprise. You’ll just have to trust me.”

      Damn. If that wasn’t the statement of the moment. Trust him that the surprise was worth it. And that he was, too.

      He spun her around the room, turning in circles until there was no doubt in his mind that she was completely disoriented.

      Two turns later, and they were in the family room. Dropping his hands, he waited while she surveyed the room and the additions he’d purchased just for her.

      A ten-foot-tall live Christmas tree stood centered in the three bay windows. It was already lit, the white lights bathing the room in a warm glow.

      Two boxes of decorations—special ordered and newly delivered—were stacked on the white-and-tan-striped couch, pushed up against the blue pillows of embroidered crabs and starfish. The shelving unit behind the couch had been emptied of the normal knickknacks of lighthouses, shells and boats.

      A blank canvas. Perfect for making new memories. And maybe uncovering other old ones that would bring them closer together. Of course there was also the risk that she would remember the wrong ones. That she would realize how close they’d come to divorcing and wonder why he hadn’t told her.

      This was how they would build a family together. She had been right earlier. It was time to start creating family traditions. Ones Thomas would grow into.

      Traditions grounded a person, gave them a firm foundation to build a life upon, and clearly Alaina had a gift for that he hadn’t recognized before. Maybe because he’d been too busy trying to wedge her into his preconceived notions of a family portrait rather than letting them make it together.

      He wanted to create the family he’d never had as a kid. It was always just him, his mom and whatever guy she was pursuing at the time. There had been no long-standing traditions on Christmas or any other time. He loved his mother, of course, but they were distant. And he wanted better for his son.

      He’d always wanted this. It was why he’d grabbed this second chance. But he was starting to see he’d sacrificed some of Alaina’s preferences to reach his goal.

      “How did you get this here so quickly?” Gesturing to the boxes and the tree. Blue eyes dancing in