Cindy Kirk - The Christmas Proposition

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.