Bride Under the Mistletoe: The Magic of a Family Christmas

Harry’s grin grew. Wendy shook her head and led him into the kitchen for a snack. She’d never seen a kid who got such pleasure from little things the way Harry did.

Tired from the day out, Harry fell asleep on the sofa and Wendy carried him up to bed.

When she returned downstairs, she tuned the television to one of her favorite shows, but without the distraction of Harry, her mind drifted back to that kiss with Cullen.

She pressed her fingers to her lips. It was hard to believe that a man like Cullen would find her attractive, let alone that he’d kiss her. But she did eventually make some sense of it. In their discussion over tea, they’d realized how different they were. They both knew nothing would come of this attraction, so maybe he felt safe in kissing her? He probably considered it a one-time thing. A chance to give in to the attraction, albeit a little, just for a taste.

The very notion made her dreamy and she sighed heavily. Was it so wrong to want a little romance in her life? Just a little. Just something to make her believe that someday she would find somebody else.

Realizing the television show wasn’t going to hold her attention, she walked back down the hall to the library, found a book and went to bed.

Because she read most of the night, she woke late and the morning routine she’d envisioned with Harry went to hell. The twenty minutes they had before Harry had to be at school were pure chaos. She’d called the principal on Friday morning, after she’d gotten word that she would get Harry on Saturday morning, and had had them reactivate his records. He was actually returning to the very class he’d left. That part of things worked out so well that she couldn’t let him be late for his first day back. She quickly dressed Harry and herself and headed out the door to drive him to school.

She took him to the office where one of the administrative assistants walked him to the room he already knew. Happy that she’d gotten him to school on time, she breathed a sigh of relief, then realized getting him to school on time had made her late. She thanked the principal and raced out of the building to her car.

Even driving as fast as was allowed on the quiet streets of Barrington, she was twenty minutes late for work.

At her desk she shucked her coat and scarf, waving silent hellos to coworkers who said good morning as they passed her door, and walked to the open door of Cullen’s office.

Dressed in a dark suit with white shirt and pale-blue tie, he looked as good—as yummy—as he always did.

“Sorry I’m late.”

He glanced up from the computer. Their eyes met. Everything female in her burst with life and energy just from the look in his beautiful dark eyes. It was all she could do not to sigh with longing.

Instead, she cleared her throat. “Harry and I had trouble getting accustomed to our morning routine.” There was no way she’d tell him that she’d overslept because she hadn’t been able to sleep the night before because she’d been thinking about how he’d kissed her. He might be attracted to her, but he’d made his choice. And she’d made hers. Attracted or not, they weren’t a good match.

“Ah. First day of school.”

“I was lucky enough to get him back into the class he was in before his mom died.”

“That’s great.” He glanced down at his desk then up at her again. “Did you tell him I had to leave? That’s why I didn’t say goodbye?”

She nodded. “He wants me to invite you to dinner.”

He laughed. “Tell him thanks.” He paused then added, “But just between you and me, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Staring into his dark eyes, she wanted to sigh with disappointment, but they’d actually come to this conclusion at the breakfast table Sunday morning. They were attracted, but different. Too different really to have a relationship. No matter how good the kiss at her door.

“Okay.” She took a careful step into the room. “Is there anything you need me to do this morning?”

“I’m fine for now.” He caught her gaze again. “But I’d like you to walk with me into the plant when I make my morning rounds.”

“To introduce you?”

He nodded.

She smiled. “Okay. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

She left his office extremely proud of both of them. They were adults who knew better than to give in to silly chemistry. There were too many differences between them. They came from two different worlds. Wanted two different kinds of lives. So they were being smart. Savvy.

It was nearly lunchtime before Cullen had her guide him through the plant. He’d already met with the supervisors, so his trek around the manufacturing floor was to give the regular employees a chance to get comfortable with him.

They stepped through the door separating the office from the cooking area and were immediately immersed in the scent of chocolate. The men by the kettles grunted greetings, but otherwise kept to their work. The men watching the assembly line where chocolate poured over creamy centers, smiled and said, “Hello.”

But the female candy packers visibly stared as Wendy introduced him to the group in general.

“These are the first-shift packers.”

Cullen smiled and nodded. “Ladies.”

“Good morning, Mr. Barrington.”

“And back here we have shipping and receiving.”

A titter of giggles followed them as they walked away. Wendy pressed her lips together to keep from laughing herself. Cullen had just made himself the object of everybody’s fantasies and today’s lunchtime topic of conversation.

After visiting the remaining departments, they returned to their work space.

Cullen paused by her desk. “They all seem like very nice people.”

He said it as if that surprised him and Wendy gaped at him. “Of course they’re nice!”

He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Yes. Of course.”

With that, he went into his office and closed the door. Wendy stared at it for a few seconds, thinking his comment was odd, but shook her head to clear it of any thought of Cullen. It was better not to get too involved, especially not to try to figure him out. Plus, it was time for her to go to lunch.

In the small lunchroom, she pulled her brown bag from the refrigerator and made her way to the table where her two friends sat.

“He’s cute!” Emma Watson said before Wendy even sat down. Ten years older than Wendy, Emma was a short brunette, married with two kids.

“Yes, he is.”

“And you’re single,” Patty Franks reminded her. A fortyish blonde, recently divorced, Patty continually tried to get Wendy to hit the bar scene with her.

Wendy laughed. “He is a rich man with an exciting life in Miami. What the heck would he want with a little Pennsylvania bumpkin like me?”

Emma and Patty exchanged a look. Emma sighed. “Uh, Miss Pennsylvania Bumpkin, it seems to me you were married to a doctor. I’m guessing you have to know you’re the kind of woman a rich guy wants on his arm.”

Wendy gaped at her. “You think I want to be on some guy’s arm?”

Patty pressed her hand to her chest. “I would kill to be able to attract a guy like that. You should be dressing a little better,” she said, pointing at Wendy’s simple red sweater. “Wearing perfume. Tempting him.”

Wendy’s mouth fell open. “Are you nuts?”

“I saw him looking at you,” Emma said slyly. “He likes you.”

Wendy felt a blush creeping into her cheeks. Maybe she and Cullen weren’t as good at hiding their attraction as they believed. A little honesty was the only thing that would nip this in the bud. “Even if we were attracted, think it through. We aren’t suited.”

“I’m almost tempted to ask you to pretend you are.” Patti leaned close to Wendy and whispered, “We could use a spy. There’s a rumor going around that he’s actually here to close the plant.”

Wendy gasped. “That’s not true!”

Emma said, “How do you know?”

“Yeah,” Patty seconded. “How do you know?”

“Because I know.”

“You don’t think it’s odd that Mr. McCoy suddenly decided to go on vacation?”

“No.”

“Or that the Cullen Barrington decided to step in for him?”

It was odd, and Cullen had behaved oddly on Saturday morning, not letting her see the letters he’d typed. Plus, there was the matter of the missing final copy of the forecast.

She gave herself a mental shake. The company made too much money for Cullen simply to close it. With the profits the company made, the Barringtons shouldn’t even be considering selling it. But she couldn’t tell her friends that. She knew how much money the company made because she typed the financial reports. Confidentiality precluded her from discussing what she saw.

“No, I don’t think it’s odd that Mr. Barrington is standing in for Mr. McCoy. I think he has his reasons. He could be here simply because it’s been five years since his family were directly involved with the plant. They might have decided it was time one of them was.”

“Maybe. But you can’t explain away the fact that we haven’t gotten a raise since his mom retired. No raises usually means things aren’t going well. Now that the Barringtons are in Miami, they don’t care about us. They could close this factory—” she snapped her fingers “—like that.”

“No. Stop!” Wendy held up her hand. Patty was interpreting the facts all wrong, but Wendy couldn’t talk about what she knew from typing confidential financial statements. With everything going on in her life, she also didn’t have the quickness of mind to make up an alternative story. “I don’t have the brain power to think about this right now. Even if I would date him to spy for you guys, I can’t. My plate is full with Harry—”

Patty put her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist. “Really? There’s a good chance they’ll find his dad tomorrow and Harry won’t be an issue.”

Only Emma or Patty could be this brutally honest with her, and though right at this minute she wished they couldn’t, she also saw Patty’s point.

“I just don’t want to see you lose a good opportunity,” Patty said. “Guys like Cullen Barrington only come along once in a lifetime. If you’re not following up on your attraction because of Harry, you could be making a big mistake.”

She shook her head. “There’s no point to following up when we don’t want the same things.”

“How do you know you don’t want the same things?”

Wendy glanced over at Patty. Damn the woman was quick. But Wendy was quicker.

“Did you look at him? His clothes scream designer names. My clothes are from a discount department store. I don’t fit into his world. That is, if he’d even want to make room in his world.”

Emma sighed. “You’re a pessimist.”

Wendy took a bite of her sandwich, chewed and swallowed then said, “I’m a realist.” She glanced around to make sure no one else was paying attention then she added, “You guys know what happened with Greg. I let him make all the decisions because he was so sure of where he wanted to go and it cost me the opportunity to have a child.”

Emma frowned. Patty rolled her eyes. “So don’t let this one make all the decisions.”

Wendy toyed with her sandwich. “Not all men are like Greg, but Cul—Mr. Barrington is. Just from the way he works, I can tell he’s a man accustomed to giving orders and getting his own way.” She wouldn’t tell them about his investment-counseling business, about being able to arrange his life any way he wanted, that would prove they’d had a private conversation. As much as she loved Emma and Patty, the gossip would spread like wildfire and Cullen’s stay would be hell for both of them. “I want a man who wants a partner, not arm candy.”

“Arm candy.” Both Emma and Patty grinned.

Emma said, “How appropriate for a guy who owns a candy factory.”

“You guys are hopeless.” She pulled in a breath and changed the subject. “Things went very well with Harry this weekend.”

Emma grinned. “So how does it feel to be a mom?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not letting myself feel too much. Just as you said, they could find Harry’s dad tomorrow.”

The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the lunch break, and Wendy made her way back to her desk and resumed her typical Monday chores. Around two o’clock, Cullen stepped out of his office and handed her some notes he wanted typed. When he returned to his office, he left the door open.

Wendy immediately went to work on the notes. She typed them quickly, e-mailed them to his computer, printed them and slid the hard copy onto his desk.

Without looking up, Cullen said, “Thanks.”

Happy that they were behaving like a typical boss and assistant, she returned to her desk and went back to work.

On Tuesday everybody still gossiped about why the Cullen Barrington would stand in for the plant manager. Finishing up the Christmas rush might be the reason. But that only spurred more questions that rumbled through the workers on the plant floor. Why had Mr. McCoy taken a vacation during their busiest time of the year? Had he been fired? Was the plant about to close?

Wednesday at lunch, Patty and Emma speculated that Cullen had asked Mr. McCoy to take a vacation and was there as a spy of some sort. That made Wendy laugh. “I can understand you wanting to spy on him. But why would he spy on us? What could he possibly be looking for?”

That stopped Patty cold and made Emma frown in consternation.

At lunch on Thursday they decided he was looking for ways to make his father and himself more money from the factory, and that, Wendy had to concede, made at least a bit of sense.

It actually calmed the gossip, until Emma said, “And if he doesn’t, we’re history.” Then that rumor caught fire and spread throughout the factory.

On Friday the conversation mercifully turned to everybody’s plans for the weekend. Patty had a date. Emma was taking her kids for pictures on Santa’s lap. Wendy’s heart stuttered with joy at just the thought of getting Harry’s picture taken on Santa’s lap. Also, involving Harry with other kids, especially for a holiday reason, was a good idea.

“Can Harry and I meet you at the mall at about one o’clock?”

Patty rose from the lunch table. “Sounds great. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“You’ll love him.”

Wendy made her way back to the office amazed that within six short days she’d not only gotten the hang of thinking of Harry first, but also that the rumors of the plant closing seemed to have died down, if only for the weekend.

At about a quarter to three she heard a noise, looked up and saw Randy Zamias walking into her office.

She pulled in a breath. “Mr. Zamias.”

Tall and thin, wearing a neat-as-a-pin brown-tweed suit, Harry’s case worker took the remaining steps to her desk. “Ms. Winston.”

Because she didn’t have a seat in her office to offer him, she rose. “How can I help you?”

“I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news.”

“News?”

“Yes, we’ve located Harry’s father.”

Her heart stopped. She told herself that Harry would be better off with his biological father, but Harry didn’t remember his father. Fear coursed through her. “You have?”

Randy cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, he’s dead.”

This time the world spun. “That’s…” She swallowed, as mixed feelings danced around inside her. Even as her heart swelled at the prospect of getting Harry, it also broke for the little boy who now had no parents. “That’s sad for Harry.”

Randy pushed his glasses up his long, thin nose. He pulled in a breath. “He was killed in a fight in the prison yard three years ago.”

Right about when Harry said he’d last seen his dad. Wendy fell to her seat. “Oh, my God.”

Randy sighed heavily. “Betsy had been informed, but by that time she’d divorced him.” He shook his head. “There’s a lot Betsy didn’t tell us when we visited her.”

Wendy could only stare at him. The knowledge that Harry’s dad was dead was difficult, but she understood Betsy’s reasons for not being forthcoming with Mr. Zamias. She had been ill and protecting her child.

Cullen stepped out of his office. He looked from Randy to Wendy and back to Randy again. His eyes narrowed. “Can I help you?”

Wendy quickly said, “This is Mr. Zamias. He’s Harry’s case worker from social services.” She motioned toward Cullen. “And this is Cullen Barrington.”

Randy’s entire demeanor changed. He went from being a stiff and formal prude, to being awestruck in the blink of an eye. He stuck out his hand to shake Cullen’s. “Mr. Barrington! Such a pleasure to have you back in town.”

“I’m only here for a few weeks.” Cullen turned to Wendy. “Are you okay?”

“Mr. Zamias just told me that Harry’s dad is dead.”

Cullen looked shocked. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Randy frowned. His beady brown eyes narrowed. His voice dripped with disdain when he said, “So it appears custody falls to you, Ms. Winston.”

Not knowing what to say, Wendy stayed silent. She knew Randy Zamias wasn’t thrilled with the way she’d demanded the rights granted to her by Betsy’s will while social services searched for Harry’s father. But with the news of Harry’s dad’s death, she became Harry’s guardian. End of story.

“Don’t get smug,” Randy said, folding his arms on his chest. “The will may give you custody, but because Harry was in our system, we can check up on him. Check up on you.”

Wendy suspected Randy was only blustering because she’d challenged him, but before she could say something conciliatory to smooth things over, Cullen walked to Randy and slid his arm across his shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been interacting with Harry since he’s been in Ms. Winston’s custody.”

“You have?”

“Yes. If you’re concerned about this transition period, I’m in Barrington until Christmas. I can continue to help out while Harry gets adjusted.”

“That does make me feel better.”

“Great,” Cullen said, leading Randy to the door.

Watching the exchange, Wendy didn’t know whether to be grateful or appalled. Cullen had taken the entire discussion out of her hands. He hadn’t even given her a chance to be her own diplomat. If she had any doubts that Cullen was exactly like Greg, he’d just eliminated them.

The second Randy was out of hearing range, Cullen spun to face her. “What the heck did you do to get on his bad side?”

“When Betsy died, Harry was put into foster care because I didn’t know about the will. None of us did.” She pulled in a breath and caught Cullen’s gaze. “When her lawyer finally contacted me, I immediately petitioned the courts to get Harry while they searched for his dad.”

“You made him look bad to his superiors.”

“I wasn’t saying he made a bad decision, just an ill-informed one. None of us knew about Betsy’s will. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that Harry had gone into a foster home. But I didn’t want Harry to be with people he didn’t know when he could have been with me.” She paused. Though it felt odd to thank him for high-handing her, she knew she had to. “I guess I should thank you for smoothing things over.”

“Save your thanks. I might just become a thorn in your side. Since I told old Randy I’d help with the transition, I’ll have to take Harry up on his offer of dinner every few nights.”

“That I can handle.” Sort of. She wasn’t happy he had insinuated himself into her life, but she did know his offer had given Randy a graceful out in their situation and he probably wouldn’t bother them. Harry was all hers to raise—

She stopped her thoughts as a terrible realization occurred to her. With Harry now officially in her custody, everything to do with the little boy was her responsibility.

She looked at Cullen again. “I have to tell Harry that his father is dead.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“DO you want me to be there?”

Wendy bit her lip, considering that. Cullen had promised Randy Zamias he would be part of things while he was in town, but she didn’t want Harry to see Cullen in such an important role that he’d grow to depend on him and have a hole in his life when Cullen returned to Miami.

Still, this was a delicate situation and the more people Harry had around him for support, the better.

She glanced at her watch. “I’ve hired a babysitter who’s been staying with him after school until I return from work. I’m trying to decide if it’s better to let him have another afternoon of thinking he’s got at least some family, or if I should just go home and be honest.”

“Let’s go be honest.”

Leave it to Cullen to make the decision for her. In another twenty seconds she would have said the same thing. Yet, he beat her to the punch. Still, in this case, it really didn’t matter. Harry would appreciate having Cullen around when he got the news about his dad. Anything else was irrelevant.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

They drove their separate cars to her house. Wendy parked in the driveway beside the babysitter’s SUV. Cullen parked on the tree-lined street in front of her house. The ice from the storm over the weekend had melted. Broken limbs had been cleared away. The sun smiled down from a bright-blue sky, but the air was cold, promising that before too long there would be snow on the ground, a sparkling white blanket for Christmas.

She walked into her warm kitchen, where Mrs. Brennon was setting a mug of steaming hot cocoa beside a plate of iced Christmas cookies for Harry’s after-school snack.

“Mrs. Winston!”

“Hi, Mrs. Brennon. I know I’m early today but I really need to talk with Harry.”

Cullen walked in the kitchen door behind her.

Harry’s face instantly brightened. “Cullen!” He bounced off the chair and raced to Cullen to hug him around the thighs. “I missed you.”

Cullen stooped down. “Hey, kid.”

Harry glanced at Cullen’s topcoat, black suit and silk tie. “Were you at work?”

Cullen nodded. “Yeah. With Wendy.”

Wendy tapped Harry’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why don’t you and Cullen eat those cookies while I spend a minute with Mrs. Brennon?”

“Sure!” Taking Cullen’s hand, Harry led him to the table.

Wendy directed Mrs. Brennon to the front foyer. She explained that they’d gotten the news that Harry’s dad had passed away and they needed to tell him.

Mrs. Brennon’s eyes filled with tears. “How sad for that sweet little boy.”

“I know.”

The babysitter walked to the closet and pulled out her winter coat, mittens and scarf. “I’ll just be on my way then.”

“Thanks. We’ll see you on Monday.”

Mrs. Brennon said goodbye and exited through the front door.

Wendy took a deep breath then walked into the kitchen. Cullen had removed his topcoat and hung it on a hook beside the door. He sat at the table eating cookies with Harry.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hey, Wendy.” Harry peered at her above his glasses. “Cullen likes my cookies better than yours.”

“Well, yours were definitely prettier.” She took another breath. “How about if we go into the living room for a minute to talk about something?”

Harry grabbed two cookies. “Sure.”

He scrambled into the living room ahead of them. Without speaking, Cullen and Wendy followed him. He bounced onto the sofa. Wendy sat on one side. Cullen sat on the other.

“Randy Zamias from social services came to see me today.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “He’s bad.”

“No. He’s trying to look out for your welfare,” Wendy said. “But he also had some news.”

When Harry didn’t answer, Cullen touched his forearm and Harry faced him. “About your dad.”

Harry looked at Wendy. “My dad?”

“Yes, honey. Randy was searching for your dad and he found him. But he’s…Well, he’s…”

“He’s like my mom, isn’t he?”

Wendy nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. He died.”

It took a few seconds for that to really sink in, and when it did, Harry’s little face crumpled and tears welled in his eyes.

Wendy took his free hand, as Cullen grabbed the cookies that were falling from his other hand. Harry hadn’t seen his father since he was three. Technically, he’d lost his dad years ago. Wendy knew his tears weren’t so much from loss, but from fear. Now he was totally alone.