C.J. Carmichael - Christmas with Daddy

Nick Gray was the kind of guy smart mothers warned their daughters about.

After five years of living in the same neighbourhood, Bridget had seen Nick with so many different women, she’d given up asking their names.

Still, sometimes when Bridget looked at him, she felt a crazy, unfamiliar excitement. He made her aware of possibilities she would never normally consider. Possibilities that were neither safe nor sensible.

It took only a few seconds for her to shake off that feeling, though. Nick was drawn to glamour, sophistication and style. The women he dated turned heads on the sidewalk.

Just as well she wasn’t Nick’s type. She’d never been one for flirting and casual dating. Whereas even Nick’s relationship with the woman he’d married had lasted less than a year.

It was an appalling record, and she ought to think less of Nick for it. But she couldn’t help liking him, despite his rather obvious character flaws. Someone who loved his baby as much as he did couldn’t be all bad.

Hard to imagine a more glamorous life than being an accountant, isn’t it? Still, CJ Carmichaelgave up the thrills of income tax forms and double-entry bookkeeping when she sold her first book in 1998. She has now written more than twenty-five novels and strongly suggests you look elsewhere for financial planning advice.

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Deepest love to my mum, Kay Daum

Thanks To:

My writing friends

Brenda Collins, Donna Tunney and Sherile Reilly,

who sat around my dining-room table, talking and

brainstorming, as the Gray brothers came to life.

Pauline Edward

for sharing her expertise in numerology.

Constable Chris Terry

from the Calgary Police Department for once again

answering my questions about crime investigation. I’d

also like to thank his wife

(my hairstylist), Tracy, for introducing us

(and for many years of great haircuts)!

NICK GRAY’S BABY daughter, Mandy, was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Too bad he didn’t have a clue what to do with her.

She smiled adoringly at him from her seat in the stroller, showing off the two tiny teeth she’d sprouted this month. Flanking the stroller were a bulging suitcase and a pink diaper bag.

Pink.

Like he was going to carry that around.

His ex-wife stood behind all this, looking like a model in a sleek leather jacket and high-heeled boots. No one would guess Jessica had ever had a baby, let alone just six months ago.

“I can’t do this,” he said flatly. “You’ve never let me have Mandy overnight before. Now at the last minute, you expect me to take care of her full-time for three weeks?”

“I guess if the Hartford Police Department believes you’re smart enough to be a detective, you ought to be able to handle a baby. I’ve written out everything you need to know in here.”

She passed him a notebook, as well as another, thicker book. “Plus, I’m lending you my copy of What to Expect the First Year. Don’t lose it.”

“Jessica—”

“Look, I’m not wild about leaving her with you, either. But this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for me.”

“Spending your Christmas vacation in Australia, compliments of an Aussie snowboarder you met on the slopes two weeks ago. Yeah, some lifetime chance .”

“Will is a great guy.”

“I’m sure. Aren’t they all?”

“You’re a fine one to talk. What’s the longest you’ve stuck with one girlfriend?”

“Let me see…nine months?”

Her face reddened and he knew he’d scored a point. “That doesn’t count. You only married me because I was pregnant. We both knew it was a mistake almost right away.”

“Wrong. You’re the one who decided it was a mistake.” When he’d said his vows, he’d intended to stick by them. Not that he and Jessica were such a perfect couple. But when you had kids, you stepped up to the plate.

It was what all the Gray men did. And while he couldn’t live up to his older brothers in many other ways, in this one area he’d tried to do what was right.

“Don’t give me that crap. You were relieved when I moved out. Even if you won’t admit it.” She pulled up the sleeve of her jacket so she could see the gold watch on her wrist. “We don’t have time to argue. Will’s picking me up for the airport in half an hour.”

“Okay, so let’s schedule our fight for when you get back. Is January fifth good for you?”

She ignored him, but he could tell she was struggling not to smile. Instead, she bent to whisper something to Mandy.

He heard snippets. “Mommy loves you…lots of presents…miss you, baby.”

When she straightened, there were tears in her eyes. Not that he’d ever doubted that Jessica loved their daughter. But what kind of mother left her six-month-old baby while she cavorted with her new ski buddy in Australia?

“You’re not listening to me. This really is a problem. I took today off, but I have to work tomorrow.”

“Don’t you have any vacation time coming?”

He grimaced. “Yeah, right.” She knew he’d used it all in the weeks after Mandy was born. Besides, he’d just been promoted, assigned a new partner and given a high-profile case. “What am I supposed to do with Mandy while I’m on duty?”

“What all the rest of us working parents do, Nick. Hire a sitter. Or ask your mom.”

He knew better than to mess with his mom’s bridge/Scrabble/shuffleboard plans. Gavin and Allison would be the perfect choice. They were already looking after eight-year-old Tory and their new son, Jack. What was one more baby?

But his middle brother and his new wife lived in Squam Lake, New Hampshire. Much too far for a daily commute to Hartford.

Nick’s head was still spinning with possibilities— or rather the lack of them—when Jessica put a hand on his arm. He looked at her white-tipped fingernails with mild curiosity. Once, her touch had set his libido on fire. Now he felt nothing.

“Mandy has had her breakfast and her diaper is clean. In about two hours it will be time for her nap. Good luck, Nick. I’ll check in with you after we land in Sydney.”

And then she left.

Seconds ticked by. A minute passed. Silence.

Mandy’s big eyes were fixed on him. She seemed expectant.

He turned his hands palms up. “Sorry kid. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

SINCE HE’D MADE detective and stopped shift work, Nick had fallen into a routine of spending Sunday afternoons with Mandy. The routine went like this:

Pick up Mandy after her nap. Strap her into the infant car seat that Gavin and Allison had bought him for a baby gift, then drive to Matthew and Jane’s place.

Hand baby to either Mom, Jane or Matthew.

Grab a beer.

Watch TV, with intermittent interaction with baby.

At dinnertime, warm up the bottle and canned baby food that Jessica had packed in the diaper bag—yes, the ugly pink one.