The Promise of Christmas. Tara Quinn Taylor

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      But then, she’d never found life particularly easy. And that hadn’t stopped her yet.

      LEAVE IT TO KIP to find a quiet corner in a quiet bar—one that actually served food as well as drinks—a couple of blocks down from Ohio State. There was only one other patron in the room and the hostess sat them in a scarred wooden booth all the way at the back, far from the door.

      “How’d you know about this place?” she asked, the menu open in front of her.

      “I didn’t,” he said, laying his menu down. “I’ll have the steak sandwich,” he told the young man who approached the table, pad in hand. “And a beer. Tall.”

      He’d lucked into a quiet bar on High Street. Was there nothing in Kip Webster’s life that wasn’t charmed? Other than his childhood, she reminded herself. From all accounts, that had been sheer hell.

      Which could explain why the man felt compelled to turn his back on fatherhood.

      She ordered the turkey wrap and a glass of wine. She wasn’t like Kip. She couldn’t be like him, couldn’t let herself think about not doing as Cal wished. The irony of that wasn’t lost on her, either.

      “SO WHAT DID YOU THINK?”

      “About the sandwich? Quite good, thank you.” She smiled across at her dinner companion, finding a curious humor in the fact that her dreams had finally come true—she was out on High Street, alone with Kip, on a Saturday night—albeit ten years too late and not quite for the reason she’d hoped. But then fate had a way of doing that to her.

      “I wasn’t talking about the sandwich,” Kip said with a small grin. The flip-flop in her stomach had nothing to do with the food, either. And everything to do with the man.

      “I’d like another glass of wine first.”

      “I THOUGHT THEY WERE ADORABLE,” Leslie said before her second glass of wine arrived. “I’m guessing they were on their best behavior, but they seem like really good kids.”

      “Jonathan’s a brainiac.”

      “A what?”

      “Brainiac,” Kip said, worrying the edge of his drink napkin between his thumb and index finger. He’d removed his jacket, and the green sweater he was wearing brought out glints of gold in his eyes. “His word, not mine. He said the kids at school call him that. Means he’s smart.”

      Her wine was served. Leslie took a gulp, hoping she’d camouflaged the gesture as a ladylike sip. “For a five-year-old, he’s far too aware of others,” she said.

      “You’ve known many five-year-olds?”

      Leslie watched him for a long minute, a silent debate playing itself out as she decided how much of herself to let him know.

      “I want children,” Leslie said. “Not like this, not now, but I’ve known for quite a while that my career isn’t enough to fill my life forever. I want to be a mother, to be pregnant and nurse and potty-train and…and protect.”

      The last word resonated through her system. Or maybe it was just the wine.

      “Is there a man who’s part of all this?” It was the first he’d asked about her love life, but she supposed it wasn’t surprising that the topic would come up, considering they were there to discuss becoming parents—or not.

      “Well.” She cocked her head, hoping she could pull off the sassy smile she’d conjured up inside. “That would be why it’s still just in the planning stages,” she told him. “But…” She held up a hand, glad it wasn’t shaking. “I am a huge believer in stating your intent and focusing on what you desire, so I visit the day care in my office building as often as I can. There are some five-year-olds there during the after-school hours.”

      “So you do have some experience.”

      She couldn’t tell if his tone was accusatory, relieved or neutral. “I haven’t actually talked to them,” she said. “I just stop in, look around, make sure there aren’t any kids being neglected….”

      His eyes narrowed. “You’re making sure that your employees’ benefits are everything they should be.”

      He gave her that look. She’d actually forgotten it—that way he had of looking at her with his eyes warm and hinting at a deeper knowledge, as though he could see right inside her. She’d hated it at thirteen, afraid of what he might see. “Okay,” she said, before he looked any deeper. “Yes, I do regular checks—informal checks—on the quality of our day care because I care about our employees. And their children.”

      His head tilted just a bit as he peered at her. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed about that, Les,” he said, no hint of laughter in his eyes, or his voice. “In fact, I respect the hell out of you for it.”

      She didn’t have anything to say to that. So she took another sip of wine. This might end up being a three-glass night.

      “You’re still planning to accept guardianship of Kayla.”

      “Yes.”

      “How can you do that?” In that moment, he reminded her of himself as a twelve-year-old boy watching her mother make pancakes. He’d insisted on trying for himself and sent batter flying across the stove when he attempted to flip one.

      She frowned. Whether it was due to exhaustion, wine, or just because she was with Kip Webster, Leslie felt unable to keep up the running game of let’s pretend with which she faced her days. “You want the completely honest version?”

      “Aren’t you always honest?”

      “To a point.”

      “Then yes,” he said, leaning forward, arms on the table, as he held her gaze. “I want the completely honest version.”

      “I have no idea.”

      He sat back, still watching her. She suspected it hadn’t been the answer he’d been hoping for.

      “I really don’t know, Kip.” She glanced over as two older couples came through the door, wearing Michigan colors. Their alma mater? Were they local or had they driven in?

      Had Cal taught Jonathan the “Go Blue” theme song, as their father had taught them? Would she teach Kayla?

      “I just know I have to do this.”

      He nodded, dropped his eyes, tore slowly at his napkin. “You’re really going to take her tomorrow?”

      “I’d love to find a reason to delay, but I can’t. I have to get back to Phoenix. I’ve already been away too long. And…” She waited for him to look up at her. “It might seem strange, but now that I know I’m going to be her mother, I don’t want to leave without her.”

      “What about Jonathan?”

      Here came the really tough part. She took a sip from her nearly empty goblet, wishing the table hadn’t been cleared. She could СКАЧАТЬ