One Christmas Knight Read online

  Emma spotted a man dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket shivering on the driveway. He sent a salute and sauntered up to join them.

  “Hey. I’m Rick Lowe,” his shoulders bobbed up and down, “the, ah, dad.”

  When Rick gazed down at the baby, Krystal lifted her higher. “Wanna hold?”

  The man looked sceptical. “Do I need to wash my hands or something?”

  “I don’t know,” Damon replied. “Do you?”

  Rick took Shelley and smiled down, genuine wonder lighting his expression. His sparse unshaven whiskers wiggled as he made all sorts of ‘baby’ faces.

  “When Krys told me I was a father,” he said as they moved inside, “I couldn’t believe it. It’s not something you hear every day.”

  Damon made a point. “Abstinence has its benefits.”

  “You mean no sex?” Rick coughed out a laugh. “Yeah, right.”

  “Do you have family nearby?” Emma asked.

  “Mom’s dead. Dad’s…uh, yeah. Don’t know anymore. Got a brother. He should be out this fall.” He dropped his head close and made a baby noise while he rocked her a little too hard. Emma had to clench her fists to stop from whipping Shelley right out of his arms.

  “I was angry at first,” Rick said. “I felt tricked, you know. Or cornered or something. But the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of a family. I always wanted a kid. A boy.” Looking at Shelley, his smile spread. “But a girl’s good, too.”

  “You’ll make a great dad,” Kyrstal said, and Emma couldn’t help but compare the two men in the room. Appearances weren’t everything. Education didn’t necessarily count. Everyone deserved a decent chance. Only she knew which man would be more likely to take out Dad of the Year.

  “So, you’re looking forward to family life?” she asked.

  “Sure.” Rick snorted―a laugh. “Who doesn’t like meals cooked when they get home from a hard day fitting tires.” He rocked the baby again but then his smile faded. “Can’t say she looks like me though.”

  “Thanks, Em, for looking after her.” Krystal leaned her head on Rick’s shoulder. “I missed her so much.”

  “Better get her stuff, Kryssie.” Rick was still scrutinizing the baby for possible Lowe features. “I’ll carry her out.”

  Emma’s stomach pitched and she stepped forward. “You don’t have to go yet.”

  “It’s an hour’s drive back,” Rick said, already heading for the door. Then he stopped and made a statement like it was a deal breaker. “I don’t do diapers.”

  “What about Christmas Day?” Emma asked Krys. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t bring it up but she had a right to know, didn’t she?

  Rick looked confused. “When’s that again?”

  “Tomorrow,” Damon said.

  Krystal spoke to the baby, “What do you want Santa to bring you, Sweet-pea?”

  Rick nuzzled Krystal’s hair. “I know what her daddy wants.”

  While Emma wanted to gag, Damon siphoned in a deep breath, blew it steadily out.

  Emma spoke up again. She felt as if a rope were slipping through her hands, wearing at the flesh. “I don’t think you ought to take the baby until her temp is down.”

  Krystal narrowed her eyes. “You said she’d be fine.”

  “No one likes to travel if they’re feeling unwell.”

  “Will she cry?” Rick asked.

  “That’s always possible,” Damon replied.

  “You sit in the back with the baby seat,” Rick said to Krys. Heading for the door, he threw a comment over his shoulder. “We’ll be seeing you again. We’re family now.”

  Krystal hesitated at the door. “Emma, I really owe you.”

  “I loved having her. If you ever need a sitter…anytime at all…” She swallowed, went on. “Call when you get home safely, okay?”

  Krystal blinked like she was holding back a flood of tears, maybe thinking of their parents, too, and then followed Rick to the car.

  As they drove away, Emma held back her own tears while Damon put an arm around her, rubbed her shoulder.

  “If you want to cry,” he said, “that’s okay. I could cry myself.”

  Emma felt as if she was sinking into an abyss. “There’s nothing I can do.”

  “Afraid not. It’s your sister’s choice.”

  “I always forgave her mistakes. That’s what family do. But, I swear, if anything happens to that little girl…”

  He tugged her close until she folded in against his chest, her cheek pressed to his sweater, her heart pounding against her ribs.

  “I can’t thank you enough for these past days,” she said.

  “I wanted to be here.”

  “I know. I’m just grateful…” She shut her stinging eyes tight, tried to be positive. But she felt hollow inside. Empty. Somehow dead.

  “Damon, I think I need to be alone for a while.”

  He dropped a soft kiss on her crown, rubbed her back. “You don’t have to be alone. I can stay.”

  Her lips pursed. “At least until tomorrow.”

  He placed a knuckle under her chin and lifted her gaze to meet his.

  “Why don’t you come with me to Hawaii?”

  Emma slumped. If she could, she’d take back that earlier barb. Damon was inviting her to join him and his family for Christmas. Not a small deal. But…

  “I need to stay here in case Krystal needs me.”

  “In case Shelley needs you, you mean.”

  “Yes.” She pulled away, determined. “In case Shelley needs me.”

  He hesitated before saying, “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Because someone I care about might not come back?”

  She was angry again. Upset. It hurt even more that he avoided her point. She didn’t know when or if she would see Kyrstal and Shelley again. What was different about Damon leaving for L.A.?

  A pulse beat in the side of his jaw before, finally, he nodded. “You’re right. It’s best you stay here.”

  “And it’s best that you go.”

  “If you need me―”

  She went inside, shut the door. Minutes later, when his vehicle’s engine started up and he drove away, Emma moved to the Christmas tree. Standing before that star, she put her head in her hands and cried.

  That night when Emma drove to Damon address, no lights were on in the house.

  Well, what did she expect? That he’d be here, twiddling his thumbs, holding his breath waiting for her to drop by. He had probably finished packing and was waiting at the airport. An escape to Hawaii had to look pretty good about now.

  She’d had something to say. But…wasn’t as if it’d make a difference anyway.

  Then she noticed light coming from around back, from the separate dwelling. Just then, an icy wind whirled around her boots and a swirl of leaves chased her down the path. Guess she’d get to see him, tell him, after all.

  She knocked lightly on the door, waited. When she tested the handle and it turned, unlocked, she called out his name and then let herself in.

  He stood by a double bed. Clothes were piled up in a suitcase lying open on the quilt. He ran a hand back over that stubborn curl of hair and waited.

  “I knocked,” she said, crossing over to join him, reciting the words again in her head. “I wanted to see you before you left. I needed to tell you...”

  With his gaze piercing hers, he prodded. “Tell me what?”

  “It’s about today. About the last few days, really.”

  He waited another beat. “Go on.”

  She lifted her chin and then crumbled…let it all out.

  “I’m sorry, Damon. So sorry. I was upset. More upset than I’ve ever been in my life. I don’t want to be angry with you. I don’t want to be angry with anyone.” A suffocating ache pushed further up her throat. “But I can’t stop worrying about that baby. I’ve called but Krystal won’t pick up. I only want to make sure they got home all right. She must know that I’d worry.”

  H
e wrapped his arms around her then, and held her so tight, there was a heartbeat when she almost forgot how much she hurt.

  “I keep telling myself,” she said, “it will be all right. The baby will probably be fine.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But probably isn’t nearly good enough.”

  He leaned his unshaven cheek against her head. “No. No, it’s not.”

  “If Shelley were mine, I’d make sure she had the best life I could possible give her. I can picture her in first grade with piggy-tails, at graduation with her friends. Getting married to a man who isn’t anything like ‘dear old dad’.”

  Or grandad.

  Emma exhaled, pressed her face into his sweater while he rubbed her back, kissed her crown. “I’ve been thinking a lot, too,” he said.

  When he held off saying more, Emma wiped her wet cheeks. His family was waiting. There was another far less complicated life for Damon Knight away from Point St. Claire.

  And still, he kept looking at her. Just looking. Making her sweat.

  Well, if he wouldn’t say it, she’d say it for him.

  “I’ve held you up long enough. You need to get to the airport, catch your flight.”

  He caught her shoulders. “Do you really think I could leave you now?”

  “Damon, your bag is packed.”

  “I packed,” he said, “to come stay with you.” His hand curled around the back of her neck as his lips brushed hers. “I was tired of waiting for an invitation.”

  Christmas Day, December 25

  Emma woke up Christmas morning in a room she didn’t immediately know, with a feeling she’d never experienced before and man she wanted to keep for the rest of her life.

  But she was a big girl. Santa wasn’t real and while the notion was bliss, miracles rarely happened. Still, for now, as Damon Knight gently woke her, she would happily accept every gift he had to bestow.

  Just how many ways where there to kiss?

  Everywhere he touched, with his hands or his tongue or his teeth, was flooded with a rush of heated longing. It was as if she were a well being filled to the brim, drenched to near bursting. Every move he made was purely, utterly, only about her.

  But the more he woke and stroked her, the more Emma remembered of the day before.

  “Damon?”

  He didn’t stop kissing and nibbling her neck…her shoulder. “Hmm?”

  “I feel guilty.”

  She felt his smile spread against her skin. “Guilt is not the emotion I’m after.”

  “Your family will hate me, taking you away from them like this.”

  “Didn’t we talk about this?”

  “You’ve probably got a dozen messages.”

  He’d turned off his phone not long after she’d arrived the previous night. They’d spent all the hours until dawn getting to know one another in every way possible. He’d brought her so high so many times, Emma had finally fallen asleep satisfied in a sense she hadn’t known existed.

  But they couldn’t spend all day making love?

  Could they?

  The tip of his tongue slid up her throat. When his body moved on top of her and his mouth lowered over hers, Emma melted into the sheets. Then his hand grazed up her side, his thumb brushed her breast and her leg automatically wrapped around his.

  Maybe Santa was real.

  Sometime later, the room was spinning again. When Damon nuzzled into her shoulder, out of breath, murmuring her name, Emma slid her palms down the steamy stretch of his back.

  “Do you think you’ll let me out of this bed today?” he joked, before kissing her again, a deep delicious caress that needed an encore. But not yet.

  “You should check your phone,” she said. And I should check mine.

  He pressed the tip of his nose to hers. “Don’t worry about my family. They know I couldn’t make it because of a special someone. They’ll be ecstatic.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Being with you here, now, being with you like this…” There was another huge question that needed an answer. “Damon, why are you still single?”

  “Silly.” His lips grazed hers. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Between them, they were scant on festive food. But Emma had a bottle of red stashed away and the Christmas tree needed company. So Damon grabbed a couple of steaks from the freezer and they drove back to Emma’s place. She phoned Olivia and let her know she wouldn’t be over, and why, today.

  When Emma walked inside her home, she was hammered with mixed emotions. She was grateful to have Damon here, but at every turn she imaged Shelley’s face, or heard her coo. She needed to be positive. No matter what happened, she would make sure she was always in her niece’s life, and one day…

  Well, maybe she might be lucky enough to have a family of her own. Not that she would make any assumptions. She and Damon were spending Christmas together, but he was still leaving the Point come February. There were a lot of miles, and other possibilities, between here and L.A.

  At lunchtime, they cracked open the wine. Damon lit a fire and they spread a quilt on the floor. Leaning back against the sofa, Emma made a toast.

  “Here’s to Christmas.”

  “To Christmas.” They clinked glasses and sipped before snuggling closer while gazing into the flames.

  “Have you wondered how differently this would have played out,” she said, “if Kyrstal had shown up when she was supposed to?”

  “Yesterday. On Christmas Eve.” He leaned in, grazed his cheek against hers. “It was meant to be.”

  “Meant to be.”

  She looked into the fire again.

  “I’d be lying,” she said, “if I didn’t admit that I can’t help thinking about Shelley. But I’m going to be positive.”

  “Good for you.”

  “No more angst. From now on, Emma Bagwell will handle whatever comes with a steady calm and grace.”

  “Let’s test that, shall we?”

  He put down his glass, was about to bundle her close, when a knock sounded on the door. Emma gulped down a breath, scrambled to her feet. Her heart was jumping like a rabbit on steroids.

  “Do you think it’s them?” She hurried for the door then came back to help pull him up. “Hurry, Damon. Quick.”

  “What happened to steady calm and grace?”

  She tugged his arm again.

  When she flung open the door a moment later, however, she was so disappointed. But she couldn’t let her guests see. They all looked ready to let go and party.

  “I believe you’re in need of food and beverage,” Olivia said, looking svelte in her Christmas pants suit garb as she lifted the basket of goodies she carried.

  Max stepped forward to shake Damon’s hand. “Merry Christmas, buddy. Glad you could hang around.”

  Another car pulled up. Melanie Beachmere and her lawyer fiancé Logan Taylor, who had started a practice at the Point, got out. A third vehicle parked at the kerb. It seemed as if Melanie’s younger sister Phoebe and Max’s teenage son Jace would be joining them, too. Emma was taking it all in―the noise, cheer and infusion of energy―when yet another guest arrived. Wandering up, Judd wore a fluffy white beard and tired looking Santa’s cap.

  When he got to the porch, Judd dabbed a kiss on Emma’s cheek and jerked a thumb at his costume. “Do it for the kids.” He looked around. “That baby here?”

  It took an effort to keep her smile tacked up as Emma shook her head. Then, in the spirit of the holiday, she added, “But Christmas isn’t over yet.”

  They all moved inside. The women were sorting out food, the younger generation was checking out the tree, and the men were discussing sports when another knock sounded.

  Damon looked to Emma and she shrugged. She didn’t want to get her hopes up again. “Guess it’s open house,” she said.

  When she opened the door, her skin tingled hot and cold. Her ears started to sing. She put a hand over her mouth to stop a yelp from escaping.

  Her visitor’s smile was apologetic�
�thin and somehow weary, too.

  “Shelley said she wanted to see her aunt Emma Christmas Day,” Krystal said.

  Beaming, Emma smacked a kiss on her sister’s cheek and lowered her head to press her lips on Shelley’s soft brow. Tears dropped down her cheeks. She was so happy. So blessed.

  She took a deep breath, gathered herself, looked around. “Where’s Rick?”

  Krystal’s closed her eyes and shook her head as if she was withering inside.

  “Em, I made a massive mistake. Again. I told Rick this morning. I couldn’t go through with it.” She blew out a shuddering breath. “He isn’t Shelley’s father.”

  Emma gripped the jamb to hold herself up. Her legs suddenly felt as limp as cooked noodles. “If Rick isn’t her father, who is?”

  “The night Shelley was conceived, I drank way too much at a party. I can’t remember past midnight. I woke up alone, but...well, obviously I didn’t start out that way. When I realized I was pregnant, I tried to find out more.” She gnawed her lower lip, grunted. “I have no idea.”

  Emma’s face went hot. Her cheeks and neck were burning. So much was wrong about that story. Drinking too much, unprotected sex. A man who not only took advantage of an intoxicated woman but couldn’t even hang around after the deed was done.

  And the result was this beautiful baby girl.

  “Where does Rick fit in?” she asked.

  “I met him eighteen months ago. He was so much fun to be around. I fell for him…like I do. I don’t know what I was thinking, using Shelley like that to try to get back with him.” Krystal gazed down at the baby who was blinking open but sleepy eyes…looking up at her mom with nothing but trust. “This morning it was like I woke up from a dream. I told Rick the truth. He actually asked us to stay. He said he loved me. I told him I was sorry then I bundled Shelley into the car and drove straight here.”

  Emma was speechless. Rick was out of the picture and Krystal was taking responsibility. She wiped away another tear.

  “You know you’re both welcome to stay here.”

  “Thanks, but Shelley and I should get our own place. Close by.”

  “Very close by.” Emma stepped back. “Come through. People I know would love to see you both.”