Daddy's Big Package Read online

  "Hey, you’re showing," he teased lightly. I caught my breath. He was standing so close to me, I could feel the warmth from his body, and he seemed distinctly aware of it too. Before I could say a word, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulled me in close to him, and nuzzled against my neck.

  "Is it weird that I missed you when I was at the gym?” he murmured in my ear. I smiled, unable to help myself.

  "Well, I’m a very easy person to miss," I teased, turning around and winding my arms around his neck.

  He kissed me on the mouth, softly at first, but growing in intensity until our tongues met and his hands were gripping my waist firmly to keep me in place. There was more than a small part of me that wanted to drag this man straight back to bed and spend the rest of the day covering everything that we had missed last night, but instead, I forced myself to pull back.

  "We should go outside," I suggested. "I want to see what it looks like out there with all of the snow coming down."

  "Lead on," he waved for me to go ahead of him but slipped his hand into mine and held it tight as I made my way to the front of the house once more. It was cold, but a nice kind of cold – the sort that was crisp and clear, not damp and cloying. Through every window, the blinding white of the untouched snow beyond seemed to glow like it was from another world.

  "You ready?" he asked as I pulled on a pair of gloves that I had purchased the day before. I nodded.

  "Ready."

  And with that, he pushed the door open and let me see the snow-covered ground for the first time.

  I honestly gasped the first time I laid eyes on it in person. I had never seen anything like it before in my life. It looked fake almost, like this was the set for some romantic movie that the two of us were starring in. I couldn’t help but giggle with delight, slapping a gloved hand over my mouth as I took it in.

  "I didn’t realize it could snow this much overnight," I remarked. "There has to be..."

  "At least six inches here," he replied. "Way more than there was yesterday."

  "Yeah, you’re right," I agreed. And more than that, yesterday’s snow had been all trampled down by people going back and forth this way and that, but right now, I was looking at a near-untouched blanket of whiteness. I tipped my head back to the sky, and a flurry of snow fluttered down onto my face. I stuck my tongue out to catch a drop on the tip of my tongue, closing my eyes as the coldness melted over my lips. It tasted clean and fresh. Nothing like Nevada.

  "You said you’d never really been out in the snow before?” he questioned.

  "No, not really," I shook my head. "Maybe a little sprinkle here and there, but nothing like this."

  "Then I have to show you how to make a snowball," he grinned at me, grabbing my hand again. "Come on, this way – we can go into the trees and make sure we don’t get caught."

  "And what exactly would we be getting caught at?” I inquired, but he didn’t bother to respond. Truth be told, I didn’t care – I was a little giddy from being the center of all of this attention from him, and I was already finding myself addicted to it. I loved the way he lavished me with attention, loved the way he held my hand, and loved that anyone who caught us like this would think we were just a regular couple, goofing off in the snow together. Some part of me wanted someone to stumble across us, just so I could be sure that this was real and not a figment of my imagination.

  We reached the woods not far from the cabin, and he pulled me into the darkened space beyond. Under the trees, it felt a little cooler, the cold trapped by the mesh of branches above us. Where the light managed to filter through the trees, they sparkled gorgeously, as though they were cloaked in diamonds.

  "It’s so pretty up here," I remarked as I followed him a little deeper into the woods. Usually, I would have second-guessed being alone with him like this, but he made me feel so utterly safe, even amid the icy cold and dark of the woods.

  "Okay, just a little bit farther..." he muttered to himself. Then, all at once, we emerged from the dim light and into a bright clearing. I clapped my hands together as soon as I saw it, overexcited as a child.

  "How did you know this place was here?" I asked as I took in the area he had brought me to. It was strikingly gorgeous, lined by a ring of delicate trees that seemed to have peeled their branches back just enough to let the light in. In the center of the clearing, there was a small frozen pond. I wanted to jump right on it, but I had a feeling I would go straight through.

  "I would like to come running out here when the weather’s better," he explained, and he reached down and scooped up some snow in his hands. I raised my eyebrows at him.

  "And what exactly do you think you’re doing?"

  "I’m showing you how to make a snowball," he waved me over to him. "Come on, over here, I’ll show you."

  "Alright, but if you throw one at me..."

  "I promise I won’t," he assured me with a chuckle, and I made my way over to join him. Pulling the gloves around my fingers, I leaned down and grabbed a lump of fresh snow from the ground.

  "Here, now you just compact it in," he explained, leaning over and pressing my hands tightly around the snow until it was one hard lump in my hand. I turned, aimed it at a tree, and let fly, watching as it exploded into a burst of soft white once more. I giggled delightedly.

  "Alright, so you’ve got the snowball thing down," he remarked. "How about a snowman?”

  "I’ve never built one of those before..." I replied nervously. "I don’t even know where I’d start."

  "So, you just start out with a little ball," he continued, crouching down before me. "And then you start rolling..."

  I got behind him and placed my gloved hands against the tiny snowball he had in front of him. Together, using all of our weight, we began to push the ball across the ground. Before I knew it, it had begun to pick up size, expanding rapidly as we slowly rolled it around the small pond.

  "Okay, so we have our base now," he told me once it was of appropriate size. "We need to make some more for his body."

  "Oh my God, this is so much fun," I squealed with excitement as I started making the next ball. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much my kids would love this. They would have such a great time out here, exploring the woods and throwing snowballs and building a whole family of little snowpeople. It would be the best Christmas ever.

  We constructed the rest of our snowman, and I was grateful for Morgan’s strength as he hefted the balls on top of one another until they were placed in one ascending pile. When we were done with that part, he began dressing the snowman, pulling off his coat and sticking it around the shoulders.

  "Hey, you’re pretty good at that," I remarked, and he glanced over at me.

  "I’ve spent enough time in costume departments to know how to dress someone," he replied, grinning in my direction. I felt my heart flutter. He was so damn sweet, that was what I couldn’t get over. For all that he could be this big, swaggering bad boy when he wanted to be, there was something undeniably and impossibly gentle about him when he wanted there to be.

  I watched as he decorated our creation, and an idea crossed my mind. I knew it was a little cheeky, but we had already long since cast out professionalism, hadn’t we?

  I ducked down, as quietly as I could, and scooped up a handful of snow – I quickly compacted it down in my hands until it was solid. I slipped it behind my back and watched as he pulled out a cigar from his pocket and placed it on the snowman’s face, giving him a nose, before adding a couple of rocks for the eyes. Just as he was standing back to admire his work, I let it rip, tossing the snowball at his shoulder. It made contact and exploded in a puff of white. He turned around and raised his eyebrows at me.

  "I should never have taught you how to do that," he remarked, shaking his head.

  "Now, I’m even more trouble," I replied, grinning. Before I could say another word, he lunged toward me, sending me tumbling to the ground; he twisted himself around so that he landed below me, cushioning my fall so I didn
’t come to much harm. I landed with an “oof” on top of him and burst out laughing.

  "Alright, that seems like a bit of an overreaction," I teased him.

  "I’ve trained in action for too long," he remarked, and I was suddenly distinctly aware of how close we were to one another; his hands were on my waist, holding me close, and I was warm against his body, despite how cold it was out here. I glanced down at his mouth, at the mouth that had given me so much pleasure the night before, and I knew that I needed to pull back if I was going to get out of this without making a huge mistake.

  "Snow angels," he suggested suddenly.

  "What?”

  "Snow angels," he repeated himself as he pointed to the ground next to him. "You just make them by lying in the snow and moving your arms and legs around."

  "Oh, right, yeah," I nodded. I quickly rolled off of him. Better to pretend that this was what we had been down here for in the first place because I was starting to feel the resolve I had worked so hard to build up begin to waver. And there was no way in hell I could have that.

  The two of us made snow angels – well, mine looked more like an angel that had been tipped from the sky at a great height and landed with a loud crash, but anyway. When I got to my feet, the cold had seeped into my system, and I shivered.

  "We should get back to the house," he suggested, putting an arm around me. I told myself it was just for warmth, but I still snuggled myself back against him a little.

  "Yeah, let’s do that," I agreed, tilting my head up to look at him. And the gaze he gave me back was almost enough to brush all of the cold out of my system for good.

  13

  Morgan

  "How are you doing?” I asked Kari as she rubbed her hands together by the fire. Her hair was a little damp from the snow, curling around her chin adorably, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and hold her close and make sure she never felt cold again. But I figured it was better to let her come to me. She had to be the one in control here, and I was fine with that.

  "Pretty good," she replied, glancing over at me. Her nose was tinged a little red.

  "You have anything else to do today?” I asked. I was hoping that she was going to say no and that I could coax her back into the hot tub once more, but her eyes lit up as though something had just occurred to her.

  "Actually, yeah, I do!” she exclaimed, getting to her feet. She bounced past me and toward the bedroom, and then returned a moment later with a giant bag of stuff.

  "I had to bring these from work," she explained, dumping them down on the floor in front of the fireplace. Out of the bag slithered a huge pile of clothes, as well as a half-dozen little wooden toys, all of which looked a little battered, as though they had been well-loved before they’d made it to her.

  "I have to fix these up," she went on, sitting herself down among the mess she had made.

  "Fix them up?” I asked.

  "These were donated to the charity a few months ago," she explained. "I want to get them into workable condition for when the Christmas season comes, so I can give them out to the kids."

  "So what are you going to do?”

  "I’m going to stich up the worst of the holes in the clothes," she explained. "And I could use some help sanding down some of the toys, if you want to give me a hand."

  "What did you need me to do?” I asked, crouching down to join her at once. Her eyes were sparkling as she looked down at everything in front of her, as though she could hardly wait to get started. Her passion was so contagious – and that wasn’t something I could say about many people. Most of the time, I found intense passion a little too much to handle, but it seemed as though when it came from her, it just rubbed off on me.

  "Well, I brought some sandpaper with me, and there’s some varnish in there as well," she explained. "If you want to take on the toys, we’ll be done in half the time.”

  "Just let me call my cleaner and let them know what we’re doing," I replied, getting to my feet. "I’ll be back soon."

  I headed to the bedroom to grab my phone – I hadn’t looked at it much this morning, which was new for me. Normally, I would find myself stuck to the damn thing, but I hadn’t really thought about it all day. Dialing the number for my cleaner, I tapped my foot on the ground as I waited for them to pick up.

  "Hello?”

  "Hello, Morgan here," I greeted the woman on the other end of the line. "I’m staying at the lodge in Colorado."

  "Oh, hello," she replied smoothly, slipping into professional mode at once.

  "I need to do some woodwork at the lodge," I explained quickly. "Varnishing, sanding, that kind of thing."

  "Alright," she replied, but she didn’t sound too happy about what I was suggesting.

  "So I need to know that you guys will be able to come and clean up when I’m done," I continued. She fell quiet for a long moment.

  "Sir, I’m really not sure—"

  "Whatever kind of cash it takes," I replied. "I’ll pay three times the hourly rate. Tell your boss that whatever they want, I’ll pay it, and then add a bonus for everyone who comes out to clean, alright?”

  "Well, I—"

  "It’s for a charity project," I told her. "It would be good press, you know."

  "I guess we could manage that—"

  "Good to know we’re on the same page," I cut her off and hung up before she could protest any further. I was going to do this. And sure, I could claim to myself that it was because I knew this was going to be good for my reputation, helping out with a charity like this, but I wanted to impress Kari. I wanted to show her that I’m far from the person she seemed to think I was.

  I made it back to the spot in front of the fire, where she had begun to sort through everything, laying out all of the clothes that she was going to fix up.

  "Shall we take this up to the table?” I suggested, and she glanced up and smiled at me.

  "You want to help?”

  "Sure do," I agreed. "Not going to let my guest take all of this on by herself, am I?”

  "What a good host," she teased. She gathered up the stuff in the bag and handed it to me.

  "Varnish and paint and sandpaper are in there," she explained, and she leaned down to grab the rest of the toys.

  "Let’s get started," I agreed as I helped her over to the table with the armfuls of clothes.

  She settled into the seat opposite me and pulled out a pair of jeans, frowning as she twisted them back and forth and checked for damage. I took the first set of toys – a handful of blocks with chipped letters painted on them – and smiled at her.

  "You do this a lot?” I asked. She nodded, reaching for the needles and thread that she had tucked into the bag.

  "Yeah," she agreed. "We get big donations every few months, and I usually end up being the one who fixes them up."

  "Hey, look," I remarked, noticing something that was sticking up out of the bag. I plucked it out, revealing a small Santa hat. She laughed.

  "Well, that one doesn’t look as though it needs much work done on it," she giggled. I reached over and planted it on her head.

  "There," I announced, happy with my work. She adjusted the hat so that it wasn’t sliding off the back of her head and struck a pose.

  "What do you think?”

  "Looks good to me," I nodded.

  "Does this make me an elf?” she commented, fiddling with the pom-pom where it was sticking up away from the hat.

  "Well, we’re sitting here doing up toys and clothes for Christmas," I pointed out. "I think that makes this Santa’s workshop, right?”

  "If we find another hat in here, you have to wear it," she warned me playfully.

  "Anything you want," I replied. I picked up the sandpaper and started work on the blocks in front of me, beginning by scrubbing off the last of the old paint. They looked well-loved, but I could get them looking perfect again. In fact, it made me a little warm inside to think of some kid opening these up on Christmas day. I had so much cash now that ther
e wasn’t anything in the world that I couldn’t already get for myself, but that hadn’t always been the case. I could remember how precious these gifts could be for a kid.

  "So, when are you going to give these to the kids?” I asked. She just shook her head and shrugged.

  "I honestly have no idea," she admitted. "I’ll be so busy over the next few weeks – between sorting out my kids and the stuff for the charity, it’s just a lot to take on."

  "I can imagine," I furrowed my brow. "Do you guys do a family Christmas? All together?”

  "Yeah, I try to," she nodded. She opened her mouth as though she was going to add something else, but then closed it again without saying anything. I wondered if she’d been about to tell me about her ex, but then had thought better of it. I wanted to press her, to let her know that I knew all about her ex and the fact that he had dumped her for some younger woman, but I knew it was best if she came to me with that information.

  "Missing your kids?” I asked, deciding to shift the subject. She nodded and smiled.

  "Yeah, I really do," she sighed. "You know, I think this has been the longest I’ve been apart from them in...well, since they were born, actually."

  "You’ve never taken a little weekend break?” I asked. She shook her head.

  "I’ve never had the time or the money," she replied. "Between running the charity and raising them, I just didn’t ever think to take some time away from them. I didn’t want to, anyway. I saw so many kids without their parents, for one reason or another, in my line of work, and I didn’t...I guess it just underlined how much I wanted to be around them. How much I wanted to be there for them."

  "Well, I’m flattered that you would come out here to be with me," I replied, reaching across to touch her hand. I swear, it was like a shock of electricity passed between us. I pulled back and started work on the blocks again as she began stitching up some of the holes in the jeans she was holding.