The Christmas Proposition

Chapter Four

Mickie leaned back against the overstuffed sofa with a contented sigh. If Rachel hadn’t agreed to take her in, she’d be spending the holidays in a group home. Instead she was here, surrounded by new friends.

She liked Mary Karen’s house. Everything about it felt like a home. From the skinny Christmas tree decorated with strings of popcorn and dried cranberries to the tiny toy cars and plastic soldiers on the floor. When Mickie had first walked through the door she’d been a little scared. But then Addie, Lexi’s daughter, had arrived with her family. They’d become instant friends.

“How long will you be staying with Rachel?” eight-year-old Addie asked.

“Until New Year’s Day.” Although she and Addie had lost interest in the movie after the first five minutes, the twins were still watching the DVD, so Mickie kept her voice low.

“That soon?” Addie’s face fell. “I wish you were staying longer.”

A familiar tightness gripped Mickie’s heart. “I wish I could, too. Rachel is super nice.”

In many ways the nurse reminded Mickie of her mother. Although she couldn’t recall her mother’s face, she remembered how she’d felt when her mom was alive. Safe. Loved. She felt that same way when she was with Rachel.

Addie twirled a strand of dark hair around her finger. “Maybe she could adopt you. Then you could stay.”

As much as Mickie wished and prayed that would happen, it didn’t seem likely. “Rachel said she’d like to keep me, but she works at the hospital and she’s always gone.”

“My mom works at the hospital,” Addie said, a puzzled look on her face. “Up until she married Nick she had two jobs.”

“Then it’s an excuse.” Tears pushed against the back of Mickie’s lids. “She probably doesn’t want me and is just saying she doesn’t have enough time.”

“Or maybe …” Addie’s amber eyes lit up like a Christmas tree “… she thinks you need both a mom and a dad.”

Mickie chewed on her lower lip. Rachel had told her more than once that she was sure there was a mommy and daddy out there for her somewhere. She hadn’t just said a mommy. She’d said a mommy and a daddy. “You may be right. But while I’d like a dad, I really want Rachel to be my mom.”

Addie’s brows furrowed. “We have to find her a husband, like Nick. Only she can’t have Nick because my mommy loves him. I love him, too.”

Mickie fought back a pang of envy. “Rachel doesn’t even have a boyfriend. And I’m leaving in three weeks.”

“That’s plenty of time,” Addie said with a sureness that buoyed Mickie’s spirits. “When my mommy met my stepdad, it only took a few days for them to be in love.”

“Really?” If it took Addie’s mother only a few days, surely Rachel could find someone in three weeks.

Addie’s eyes took on a determined gleam. “We have to find a man who doesn’t already have a wife. And he has to think Rachel is pretty. It won’t work otherwise.”

“Once we find this guy, how do we get them together?” Mickie felt silly asking a third-grader such grown-up stuff, but for being only eight, Addie knew an awful lot. Especially about moms and dads.

“You’ve got to get them to kiss.” Addie picked up her Barbie and Ken dolls and pressed their faces together. “Like this.”

“I saw Rachel kissing a guy in my mom’s bedroom tonight,” Connor said, not taking his eyes off the television screen.

Mickie was about to tell him he shouldn’t be listening to a private conversation when the words registered. “Who was she kissing?”

“Was it Travis?” Addie asked, eyes full of excitement.

“Naw,” Connor said, still not looking their way. “The new guy.”

“That has to be Mr. Rossi,” Mickie said. “He’s really nice. Rachel and I went out for pizza with him once.”

Addie dropped Barbie and Ken to the sofa, her eyes wide. “They’ve already been on a date?”

Mickie found Addie’s excitement contagious. “I guess they have. And if they’ve already kissed …”

“I saw them,” Connor said loudly.

“Connor sees everything,” Addie said and Mickie could hear the admiration in her tone. Oh, yeah, Addie knew a lot.

“So what’s the next step?” Mickie asked.

“They have to be together so they can do more kissing,” Addie said. “Being together is veeeery important.”

“That might be a problem.” Mickie’s heart sank. “Until tonight Rachel hasn’t seen Mr. Rossi since last Saturday.”

“You have to figure out a way,” Addie said. “Otherwise they’re not going to fall in love and you won’t be able to stay here.”

Mickie had tried being good and not asking for much because she’d wanted Rachel to like and hopefully keep her. That hadn’t worked. Rachel liked her, but she was still sending her back.

Addie was right. Finding a husband for her temporary foster mom was her only chance. Mickie had to make Mr. Rossi and Rachel fall in love and get married. And she had less than a month to make that happen.

Although Addie’s mom and stepdad had fallen in love in days, Mickie wasn’t leaving anything to chance. She’d start right away. She had a lot riding on this and she couldn’t afford to waste a single minute.

After the game ended at ten-thirty, Derek and the other guys left the big screen behind and wandered into the kitchen.

During the commercial breaks, Derek had learned a little bit about each of the men. David Wahl, an emergency room physician and Travis’s longtime friend, was also Mary Karen’s brother. Like Travis, David worked with Rachel at the local hospital. Nick Delacorte, Lexi’s husband, was a partner at a law firm in Dallas. He and his family lived part of the year in Texas and the rest in Jackson Hole. And Travis, well, Derek had been shocked to learn that the young doctor had helped raise seven younger siblings. No wonder he was in no hurry to settle down.

He’d enjoyed watching the game with them. The beer had been cold, the appetizers unending and the high-def television had surround sound so he could hear every hit. The only downside to the evening had been the incident with Rachel. Although he knew she’d deny it, he’d taken advantage of her. Just because she’d kissed him first didn’t mean he had to respond so enthusiastically.

She’d barely spoken to him since. Even when she’d put the sloppy joe on his plate, she’d only said a few words to him.

Despite her attempt at a freeze-out, when he entered the kitchen he looked for her. He found her at the counter, back to him, adding ground beans to the coffeemaker.

“Would you like a brownie with ice cream?” Lexi gestured to the plate of chocolate squares on the counter in front of her.

Derek hesitated. They looked delicious, but he’d eaten two sloppy joes and way too many appetizers while watching the game. Still, he did like chocolate….

“Don’t worry,” a small voice said. “My mommy made them herself. They’re super good.”

Even though there seemed to be a gazillion kids running around the house tonight, he immediately made the connection. It wasn’t difficult. The child was the spitting image of her mother. “You must be Lexi’s daughter.”

“That’s right. I’m Addie.” The child slanted a sideways glance at Mickie, who’d just walked up. “He’s smart. I like him.”

Mickie’s cheeks turned a bright red. “How did you like the football game?”

“It was okay.” Derek elbowed Travis in the side. “Though the company left a lot to be desired.”

“Hey, any more talk like that and we won’t invite you back,” Travis shot back.

“I think I may have something to say about that.” Mary Karen chuckled. “This is my house after all.”

Mickie stiffened and exchanged a worried glance with Addie.

“It’s okay.” Derek placed a reassuring hand on Mickie’s shoulder. “We’re just joking.”

“Why don’t you girls grab some dessert and take it over there.” Mary Karen gestured with her head to a card table in the corner of the kitchen. The boys had been put to bed, but Addie and Mickie had been allowed to stay up.

Carefully balancing her dessert, Addie made her way to the table, but Mickie stayed put, her gaze firmly fixed on Derek. “I have something to ask you.”

Mickie looked so serious, the teasing words he’d been about to say died on his tongue. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “You’re giving private pitching lessons this Saturday, right?”

“I am.” He wondered how she knew, then remembered the topic coming up when everyone was getting their food earlier.

“Will you give me a lesson?”

She looked so earnest, he hated to turn her down, but he didn’t have a choice. “I’d love to, sweetheart,” he said. “But I’m afraid all the slots are filled.”

A stricken look crossed the child’s face. “Please. You said I had a good arm.” She clasped her hands together and lifted them as if praying. “I’m not good at anything, but I’d like to be. Can’t you please help me? Pretty please.”

“Mickie, Mr. Rossi said no,” Rachel said from across the room, her voice firm but gentle.

The girl’s shoulders dropped. Her bottom lip trembled. The look on her face said he’d dashed a lifelong dream by not giving her a private lesson. He thought for a moment, considering the options. “Come around noon. All the appointments will be over by then.”

“Derek, you don’t have to do that,” Rachel said.

He smiled, feeling his spirits lift. At least Rachel was talking to him now. He placed a hand on Mickie’s shoulder. “I like helping aspiring ballplayers.”

“Afterward you can come to Rachel’s house and have lunch with us.” The words tumbled from Mickie’s lips, one word chasing the other. “You can meet Fred, Rachel’s bloodhound. He’s super sweet. He—”

“Mickie,” Rachel interrupted. “I’m sure Mr. Rossi has better things to do.”

“Actually, I don’t.” Even if he had, Derek would have changed them. The pleading look in the girl’s eyes tugged at his heartstrings. He shifted his gaze to Rachel. “Unless you have other plans?”

For the first time he was aware of other eyes on them. Let them stare, he thought. There was only one person’s response he cared about.

“No.” Rachel reached behind her and pushed the start on the coffeemaker, her cheeks a becoming pink. “No plans.”

“Great.” He exhaled the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I’ll see you both at noon on Saturday.”

“Thank you so much.” Mickie wrapped her arms around his waist in a quick hug, then headed to the card table until Lexi called her back for her brownie.

When Lexi handed him a plate filled with ice cream and a large brownie square, Derek didn’t have the heart to refuse.

“You made Mickie’s night.” Rachel took the plate of dessert that her friend pushed into her hands, then slipped past Derek to take a seat at the dining-room table.

“It seemed to mean a lot to her.” Derek commandeered the seat next to her, placing his plate on the table.

“Until tonight I had no idea Mickie was so interested in sports,” Rachel mused, picking up her fork.

“It takes time to get to know someone.” Derek couldn’t help thinking of Niki and how long it had taken before he’d seen her true colors. “Perhaps she’s just now feeling comfortable enough to share more about herself with you.”

Rachel forked off a piece of brownie. “Perhaps.”

“I didn’t know you had a bloodhound,” he said, wanting the conversation to continue. “I grew up with one. We called him Gus.”

“Cute name,” Rachel said.

Derek wasn’t sure about the name being “cute,” but it had fit the dog.

“A lot of people think it’s crazy for me to have an animal that big when I live in a condo,” she continued. “But once I saw him, I couldn’t imagine getting a different breed.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Okay, so they were talking about a dog. At least they were talking.

“He’ll be excited to see you,” Rachel said.

Will you be excited to see me? Instead of asking, Derek took a bite of brownie and reminded himself that Saturday wasn’t about him and Rachel; it was about Mickie. He needed to keep that in mind before he did something he’d regret.

Something like forgetting he was supposed to be girlfriend-free for the next six months.

“I’m ready to go.” Mickie twirled around in Rachel’s small living room, while Fred sat in the doorway watching her.

Rachel smiled. Addie loved to twirl and had shown Mickie how it was done when they’d been at Mary Karen’s house.

“Honey, it’s only eleven.” Rachel glanced down at her watch just to be sure. “Eleven-oh-six to be exact. It takes less than ten minutes to get there. Besides, I still have some picking up to do.”

Although Rachel normally kept her apartment spic and span, this week she and Mickie had done more socializing than cleaning.

“I understand.” Mickie stopped twirling long enough to kiss the top of Fred’s head. “You don’t want Mr. Rossi to think you live in a pigsty.”

Rachel chuckled. “Do you even know what a pigsty is?”

“A messy house,” Mickie said promptly. “That’s what the social workers always called my aunt and uncle’s home. But their place was a zillion times worse.”

“Thanks.” Rachel scooped up a newspaper she’d left on the sofa. “I guess.”

She couldn’t believe Derek was coming over for lunch. If Mickie hadn’t arranged the lesson, Rachel doubted she’d have seen him again.

Her lips quirked up in a wry smile. Of course, given her luck, their paths would have crossed again.

“Do you like Mr. Rossi?” Mickie called out, mid-twirl.

Rachel paused, dust cloth in hand. “He seems like a good guy. Why do you ask?”

“When we were at the sports facility, you were nice to him.” Mickie stopped twirling. “But not at Mrs. Vaughn’s home.”

Rachel pulled her brows together. Surely that wasn’t true. She’d been embarrassed by her behavior in the bedroom, but that whole incident had been her fault, not his.

“You acted like you hated him,” Mickie continued. “I could tell it made him feel bad.”

Rachel’s heart dropped. “You think so?”

Mickie nodded with such decisiveness that Rachel’s heart dropped even lower. “Maybe if you’re extra nice to him today he’ll know you don’t hate him.”

“That’s a good idea.”

The child smiled and once again began to twirl.

Chapter Five

Derek had been so focused on showing a young boy how to throw a slider that he couldn’t say for sure when Rachel and Mickie had entered the Indoor Sports Facility. All he knew was when the boy and his dad walked off, he caught sight of them leaning against the wall.

When he met Rachel’s gaze she surprised him with a friendly smile. After the kisses in the bedroom, the interaction between them had been strained and he’d worried he’d damaged their budding friendship.

He returned Mickie’s wave and made his way across the gym floor, hoping all was forgiven and forgotten. He really would like to be Rachel’s friend.

“Hi, there!” he called out as he drew close.

“Good morning,” Rachel said, then glanced up at the large clock on the wall. “Or rather, good afternoon.”

“Hi, Mr. Rossi.” Mickie hurried to his side with a speed that surprised him. Once there, she tugged on his sleeve. “Don’t forget you’re coming for lunch. We’re having grilled cheese sandwiches.”

For a second Derek got the impression that the child was more excited about the lunch than the lesson. But that was crazy.

“I haven’t forgotten.” He shot her a reassuring smile. “Lunch. After the lesson.”

“I’m curious.” Rachel glanced around the gym. “Since Mickie has never played before, where do you begin?”

Today Rachel had pulled her hair back in a ponytail and dressed simply in jeans, a red sweater with silver threads and sneakers. Even though she didn’t appear to be wearing makeup, she had to be because her lips were almost as red as her sweater. He couldn’t help remembering how sweet those lips had tasted.

With great effort Derek pulled his attention back to the matter at hand. “We start with the basics. Like how to grip a ball. Then, I thought she could throw the ball to you while I coach her on her stance and technique.”

“I don’t have anything to put on my hand.” Mickie raised her left arm and wiggled her fingers as if showing off her bright pink polish.

Derek tilted his head. Sometimes little girls could be very confusing creatures.

“She doesn’t have a glove,” Rachel clarified. “We were running late and by the time I remembered, we were almost here.”

“Rachel had to make sure the house was clean for you,” Mickie added.

Derek swore he heard Rachel groan. He hid a smile.

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel said. “Here you go out of your way to help and—”

“No worries.” Derek lifted his hand in a dismissive wave. “We have plenty of gloves kicking around here. And she’s not the only one who’ll need one. Because Mickie will be throwing to you, you’ll need one as well.”

“Me?” Rachel’s voice rose, then cracked. “I haven’t had a glove on since college. And that was only intramural softball.”

“You’ll do fine,” Derek said. “After all, today is all about learning and having fun.”

Rachel reminded herself that she was throwing a ball to a ten-year-old, not trying out for the major leagues. “All right, then. Let’s play ball.”

He shot Rachel and approving smile, then refocused on Mickie.

“Lesson number one.” Derek held up the ball in his hand. “The best way to grip a ball is across the seams.”

He held it out so both Mickie and Rachel could see. “And when you hold it, try to keep the ball out on your fingertips, not up against your palm.”

“Why?” Mickie asked as he flipped the ball to her.

The girl caught the ball easily, but struggled to get a good grip.

“Holding it the proper way helps your speed and accuracy when you throw,” he said.

Derek stepped forward, positioned the ball in Mickie’s hand, then ran backward while slipping on his glove. He punched the pocket with his fist. “Throw it here.”

She lifted her hand and with a stiff arm tossed it to him. It went far to his left, but he easily snagged it.

“Good effort.” He moved to her side and showed her how to cock her wrist back and use it as part of the throwing motion.

Once the girl had a good start on that skill, he gave both of them gloves and had Mickie throw the ball to Rachel. While the child threw, Derek coached her on her stance.

Thankfully Rachel had no problems catching the balls. Mickie improved with each throw and showed definite potential. Oddly, she seemed more interested in talking about all of Rachel’s wonderful attributes than in paying attention to her throwing technique.

“My stomach is growling,” Mickie said when only a half hour had passed.

Derek motioned to Rachel.

“Mickie is hungry,” he said when she drew close.

“Mr. Rossi is hungry, too,” Mickie protested.

“You’re right.” He smiled at the child. “I am.”

“How does grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato basil soup sound?” Rachel asked. “Be honest. We want you to be happy.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.