Cindy Kirk - The Christmas Proposition

That didn’t bother Derek. He was ready to get out of the house, but wasn’t interested in hooking up. Football on the big screen, a couple of beers with the guys was all he was looking for this evening.

“Hey, Rach, could you get the appetizers out of the oven for me?” Mary Karen Vaughn appeared slightly frazzled as she grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard.

“Absolutely,” Rachel said in a cheerful tone, eager to be of help, happy she’d accepted Mary Karen’s invitation. She’d been so busy lately that she hadn’t seen much of her friends.

There had been a few awkward moments initially. Like when Lexi Delacorte had asked if Derek Rossi was really as hot in person as he was on the television screen. The gleam in those amber eyes told Rachel her friend hoped the brief encounter with the sexy former baseball player had made her forget Tom. What Lexi didn’t understand was that Rachel would never, could never, forget her husband.

The shy geologist she’d married just out of college may have been burly and taciturn on the outside, but he’d been sweet and sensitive inside. Her gentle giant. He’d been a fabulous husband. She had no doubt he’d have made a wonderful father …

A familiar pain stabbed her heart. No, it would be nearly impossible to find a man as good as Tom, which was why she hadn’t even tried.

At least this holiday season she wouldn’t need to worry about well-meaning friends trying to set her up. Normally, several times over Christmas there was someone’s friend, cousin, uncle, coworker who was just dying to meet her.

This year all she had to concern herself with was making this the best Christmas ever for Mickie. Rachel’s lips curved upward as she shut off the oven alarm, put on the bulky mitt and pulled out a baking sheet filled with the tiny almond-bacon cheese crostini she’d whipped up that morning. Reveling in the warmth against her face, Rachel inhaled the delicious aromas now flooding the kitchen.

“I should have made sure there wasn’t a single college bowl game on television before I set the date for this party,” Mary Karen grumbled and slanted a glance at the men congregated in her living room.

“I like football.” July Wahl added Fritos to an empty bowl and handed it to Mary Karen’s five-year-old son, Connor. “But I don’t really care who wins the Rotten Apple Bowl or whatever it is that’s on TV tonight.”

Rachel laughed. Mary Karen had thought her party was safe with a second-tier bowl on the tube. She’d quickly discovered otherwise.

“It could be called the Prune Bowl and my husband’s eyes would still be glued to the screen.” With dark hair that stopped just short of being black and amber eyes the color of topaz, Lexi Delacorte was the most beautiful of Rachel’s friends. And the hospital social worker was as lovely on the inside as she was on the outside. “My Nick is a football fanatic.”

A possessive pride filled Lexi’s voice.

“I still can’t believe you fell in love with a man who didn’t know his own name.” Mary Karen handed July a sheet of cheese sticks to put in the oven.

“I didn’t need to know his name or that he loved football to recognize he was someone special.” Lexi’s eyes turned dreamy. “Or to fall hard for him.”

“Two weddings in less than a year.” July closed the oven door and straightened. Her speculative gaze settled on Mary Karen and Rachel. “You realize good things come in threes. That means one of you is next.”

Rachel held up both hands, palms out, and shook her head.

Mary Karen laughed uproariously. “I have three little boys to raise,” she said when she could finally speak. “I don’t need a fourth.”

July chuckled, then fixed her gaze on Rachel. “Come on, Rach. Can’t I interest you in a husband?”

“No husband for me.” This was a discussion Rachel had had with her friends many times. Whenever they brought up the subject, she usually just laughed it off … or changed the subject. “But I will take a glass of wine.”

Mary Karen lifted a half-empty bottle of merlot from the counter just as the doorbell rang. She paused, the bottle hovering over the glass. A frown furrowed her brows. “I wonder who that could be?”

“I’ll go see.” Rachel pulled off the bulky mitt and tossed it on the counter. “Just don’t let anyone near my wine.”

Rachel hurried past the living room full of cheering men and the family room where the kids sat watching a video. She waved at Mickie, wondering who else was coming. Although now that she thought about it, upon arrival Travis had mentioned something to her about inviting a guy he’d met skiing today. Pasting a smile of welcome on her face, Rachel opened the door.

She froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Standing on the porch was the last person she expected to see tonight. “Derek. Hello. It’s … uh … good to see you.”

Rachel couldn’t stop the pleasure that sluiced through her at the sight of the man who’d consumed her thoughts the past five days. She told herself she was so happy because she’d been worried about him and was relieved to see him looking so … fabulous. Instead of being clouded with pain, his eyes were a clear blue. A slight bruising at his left temple seemed to be the only residual from the accident last week.

Yes, she was very happy he’d recovered so completely. Last weekend she’d picked up the phone five or six times to find out how he was doing. But each time she’d clicked off without placing the call, worried that after her fan-girl ramblings, he’d misinterpret the reason for the follow-up.

“This is a pleasant surprise.” Derek’s gaze slowly surveyed her from head to toe.

Rachel shivered. She reassured herself that the response had nothing to do with the heat in his eyes. It was simply because of the frigid temperatures. As if to further substantiate her explanation, the wind gusted, dusting his hair with white flakes and almost pulling the door from her hands.

“Come in, please.” Rachel stepped back and motioned him inside. “It’s freezing out there.”

The second he was in the house, Rachel shut the door behind him. “I’ve wondered how you were doing.”

“All you needed to do was call,” he said in a teasing tone, his gaze never leaving her face. “You had my number.”

Rachel wiped her sweaty palms against her jeans, battling unexpected butterflies. She smiled sweetly. “And you had mine.”

“Touché.” He chuckled and rocked back on his heels. “Well, it appears that despite our mutual lack of effort, our paths were meant to cross again.”

“Looks that way.” Suddenly Rachel was glad she’d chosen to wear her favorite blue sweater tonight, the one that matched her eyes. It gave her extra confidence to see the appreciation in Derek’s gaze.

“Travis Fisher invited me.” Derek glanced around as if expecting the man to materialize. Instead, a loud roar sounded from the living room. “Does he live here?”

Rachel could barely hear the question over the cheering in the other room.

“No, but you’re at the right place,” she said once the noise died down. Rachel gestured toward the living room. “Travis and the other guys are in there. Before you join them, let me take your coat.”

Derek shrugged out of his jacket and handed it over, his hand brushing hers. His eyes darkened for a second as if he’d felt the same spark that shot up her arm.

Static electricity, she told herself. Simple static electricity.

“Is this your house?” His expression gave nothing away. It was almost as if they were polite strangers, which was what they were … right?

She clutched his coat tight against her. Still warm from the heat of his body, it retained the spicy scent of his cologne. “The house belongs to a friend of mine, Mary Karen Vaughn. She and Travis go way back.”