A Temporary Christmas Arrangement Read online

  Those gorgeous eyes gleamed at her. “I think you’ve earned it.”

  “True. I’ve been such a good neighbor.”

  “The best.” The kids laughed and chattered together as Linc and Harper continued to gaze at each other. His voice low, with a delicious hint of roughness, he coaxed, “Stay...”

  Chapter Two

  They had story time in the master bedroom, all four of them together on the king-size bed.

  After The Name Jar, Dragons Love Tacos and an older book of rhymes by Shel Silverstein, both kids were droopy-eyed and yawning. Jayden asked Harper to tuck him in and Maya held up her arms for Linc, who scooped her against his broad chest and carried her to the bedroom across the hall.

  Jayden took Harper’s hand. “This way.”

  In his room, Harper pulled back the covers on the bottom bunk. He wiggled between them and stretched out with his head on the pillow. She tucked the Star Wars comforter in around him.

  “Harper?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Sometimes in the nighttime, I miss my mom.”

  She smoothed the thick, dark hair from his forehead and whispered, “I really did like your mom a lot.”

  “She died. My daddy died, too.” His eyes were wide and soft and full of hurt. “It makes me feel sad.”

  She laid her palm gently on the center of his small chest. “I remember that they both—your mom and your dad—loved you so much.”

  “I ’member that, too.” His little face was so very solemn.

  “That’s good. Because when somebody loves you a lot, you never lose them. Not really. You always have them, the good memories of them, in your heart.”

  “Harper, I ’member everything.”

  “Keep those memories. Treasure them.”

  “I promise I will.”

  “Excellent. Do you have a prayer you like to say at bedtime?”

  He closed his eyes and whispered, “Dear God, thank You for another good day. Please give us a tall Christmas tree and make the snow come down so I can have a snowman. Bless Uncle Linc and Maya and Gramma and PopPop. And Mom and Daddy up in heaven...” His dark lashes fluttered as he sneaked a peek at her. “And Harper, too. Amen.”

  “Amen.” She bent to brush her lips across his forehead. “’Night.”

  “G’night—and Harper?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t forget the Christmas show...”

  “I won’t forget. I’ll talk to your uncle tonight.”

  * * *

  When Harper got downstairs, she found Linc in the kitchen pulling bottles from a box.

  He held up a bottle of red and another of Ketel One. “Pick your poison.”

  “Wine, please.”

  He put the vodka back in the box. “Let’s go in by the fire,” he suggested, after he’d opened the wine and she’d found two stemless glasses in one of the cupboards.

  In the living area, they sat on the sofa and he poured them each a glass. “It’s good,” she said after her first sip.

  They sat in silence for a bit. She hardly knew him, and yet it was easy to sit with him and say nothing, to simply enjoy the warmth of the fire and the rich, dark taste of the wine.

  Her thoughts went to the little boy upstairs and the things he’d said before his bedtime prayer. “While I was tucking him in, Jayden said how much he missed his mom and dad...” She waited for a response.

  None was forthcoming. Linc stared at the fire and took another slow sip of wine.

  Okay. Now she did feel awkward. “The kids seem to be doing really well.”

  He slanted her a wry glance. “Given that they lost both their parents ten and a half months ago, you mean?”

  “Yeah.” She wanted to reach out, touch his hand, pat his big shoulder. But that seemed presumptuous, somehow. Instead, she struggled with how to offer her condolences. “I’m so sorry, Linc. That you lost them. I met them last year, over Christmas.”

  “Yeah. I figured you must have gotten to know them a little. Jayden mentioned hanging out with you and your sister last year.”

  “I thought they were wonderful, both Megan and Kevin. So in love. Good parents, completely committed to their family, to the kids...”

  “Yeah. It’s been hard, losing them. Jayden acted up some at first. There were angry outbursts, essentially out of nowhere, and sudden bouts of crying. I talked it over with Jean and Alan. We decided to send him to a therapist. That helped.”

  “Right now, he really does seem happy, overall.”

  “Yeah, he’s coping, I think.” Linc had resumed staring into the fire. “I didn’t get together with my sister and her family enough before the crash. I regret that now, that I didn’t make the time to fly down to Sacramento now and then...”

  Anything she might have said felt either inadequate or shallow, so she said nothing.

  He didn’t seem bothered by her silence. “I don’t know how I would have made it these past months without Jean and Alan,” he said. “They left their cozy place in Carmichael, California, and moved in with me in the West Hills to help me look after the kids.”

  There were a lot of big houses in the West Hills of Portland. Harper had no doubt that Linc’s was one of them.

  He said, “Having their grandparents taking care of them gave Jayden and Maya time to adjust to the new normal, I guess you could say.” He shifted his gaze down and seemed to contemplate the dark color of the wine. Shaking his head, he took another sip. Then a grim laugh escaped him. “Kevin loved that damn plane of his. It was his pride and joy...”

  “I heard about what happened.” The Hollisters had left the kids with the grandparents in Sacramento and flown off for an overnight getaway in Monterey. They’d crashed in the Santa Cruz Mountains and were killed instantly.

  “It was a shock,” he said. “To everyone. I don’t really think we’re over it yet.”

  Again, she had to resist the urge to reach out—clasp his arm, pat his shoulder. “Something like that, you never really get over. But it does get better—you know, over time.”

  He turned his gaze on her, his eyes darker than before, more bittersweet chocolate than caramel. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

  “Yeah, you could say that...”

  The way he looked at her—as though she fascinated him. How did he do that? He made her feel seen in the truest sense of the word. “Tell me,” he commanded.

  She shifted on the cushions and took another sip of her wine. “When I was five, my brother Finn got lost in Siberia. Then, when I was seven, my parents died.” She chuckled at the look of disbelief on his face. “My parents were big on travel. Finn was eight when he disappeared. We’re still looking to this day, but we haven’t found him. Yet. Two years after we lost Finn, my parents headed off on a romantic getaway, just the two of them, to Thailand. As my oldest brother, Daniel, always explained it to the rest of us, the Thailand trip was supposed to be a way for them to reconnect with each other, to try to move on a little after Finn went missing. They arrived right in time to be killed in a tsunami.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “It was, yeah. But we got through it. There were eight of us at home then, including Daniel. Daniel took custody of the rest of us. Our ancient great-aunt, Daffy, and great-uncle, Percy, were always there to help. Daffy and Percy are the Bravo family’s Gramma Jean and PopPop, I guess you could say.”

  He was still watching her, his expression hard to read. “Thank you.”

  “For...?”

  He gave a half shrug. “Sometimes I forget I’m not the only one who ever lost a sibling. I get feeling down, remembering all the ways I wasn’t there for Megan when I should have been, worrying the kids will never fully recover from losing her and their dad. But you’ve made it through more than one personal tragedy as a child and grown up with a great att
itude. Not to mention, you’re generous and kind, and willing to come to the rescue of the clueless guy next door. So, yeah. Thank you for all of that.” He tapped his glass to hers.

  “I never said I thought you were clueless.”

  His mouth quirked at the corners. “But you did think it, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe. At first. But you’re good with the kids, and it’s clear they love you and trust you.”

  His grin had turned rueful. “I have a confession to make.”

  She held up her wineglass in a salute. “Now you’re talkin’. Spill.”

  “Jean tried to tell me I would need help for the holidays, but I wouldn’t listen to her. I was positive I could do it all, get the cottage opened up, run to the grocery store, look after Jayden and Maya—and fit in working remotely a few hours a day, too. Today was a crash course in harsh reality.”

  “You might have been maybe a touch too ambitious.”

  “You think?” He laughed, a low sound, intimate. Just between the two of them.

  She tried to remind herself—again—that she’d only just met him. He was a Stryker, an important name in Oregon, and only here for the holidays. Come New Year’s, he’d be gone. Back to Portland to live in a West Hills mansion and run his family’s shipping empire. She would be heading for Seattle, where she would rent an overpriced studio apartment and try to figure out what she really wanted from life.

  Didn’t matter, though, how mindful she tried to be of all the ways they were strangers. Somehow, in the span of an afternoon and evening, she felt as though she’d known him for years.

  He smiled his devastating smile. “Jayden chattered nonstop all the way here from Portland.”

  “Why am I not surprised? He’s wonderfully verbal.”

  “Verbal.” Linc shrugged. “That’s Jayden, all right. And my point is, all the way here, you and your sister were the main topic of his never-ending monologue. He couldn’t wait to see you. He has all these plans for hanging out with you—for building snowmen and being in your Christmas show...”

  “Which reminds me, I promised him I’d talk to you about the show.”

  “Don’t worry. If you think it’s a good thing, I’ll say yes. I’m pretty much incapable of telling Jayden no.”

  “Well, I’m not arguing that you can never say no. But the Christmas show should be a definite yes. He starts kindergarten next year, right?” At his nod, she continued, “So next Christmas, you won’t be able to stay the whole month. He shouldn’t miss this chance. He’ll get to be around a lot of other kids and the rehearsal schedule isn’t all that demanding. You could start him next week if you want to wait until after Thanksgiving.”

  “Hold on. The rehearsals have already started? How will he catch up?”

  “It’s a series of sketches, songs and dance numbers. My sister Hailey directs the whole thing. She’s amazing—and I say that with absolute objectivity.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m serious. She has the kids practice all the songs and skits separately, in small groups, and then puts everything together during the last week before the show opens. We will fit Jayden in, and he’ll have a wonderful time. He’ll need to be at the theater for a few hours most weekday afternoons, depending on which numbers he’s in. There are two performances, both matinees, on the second and third Saturdays of December. I can hook you up for carpooling with other parents. Once you’re comfortable with the process, you don’t need to be there if you don’t want to be. Jayden will be busy with his part in the show and there’s constant adult supervision. Even Maya’s old enough to participate this year.”

  He frowned. “She’s barely two.”

  “I know. But if they can walk and understand basic instructions, they’re in. The older kids love looking after the little ones, kind of shepherding them along. Maya can be in a couple of sketches if she’s comfortable with it. That would take a little more time on your part—or for anyone you get to look after the kids. Children four and under require a supervising adult for each rehearsal they attend.”

  “What about the performances? She could wet her diaper, start crying...”

  “Linc, it ain’t Broadway. Everybody understands. You would just go up onstage and get her, take her out to the lobby to settle her down or whatever. Meanwhile, the show would go on.” She set her glass on the coffee table.

  He put his down beside it and poured them each more wine. “I’ll tell Jayden he’s in.” At some point, he’d rolled his sleeves to his elbows. His forearms were the good kind—corded with lean muscle, traced with a couple of so-sexy veins and dusted with just the right amount of silky dark hair. He had gorgeous wrists, too, lean, the bones sharply defined.

  And seriously? Gorgeous wrists? She should probably say no to that second glass of wine...

  And what were they talking about...?

  Right. He’d just said that Jayden could be in the show. “Terrific. He’ll be so pleased.”

  “I’ll have to think a little about putting Maya in.”

  “I hear you. I’ll give you my number.” She took out her phone, entered her PIN and handed it to him.

  He sent himself a text. On the coffee table, his phone chimed. “Done.” He passed her phone back and relaxed against the cushions again, wineglass in hand. “I need to ask you...”

  Anything. “Yeah?”

  “Last year, did you maybe babysit the kids now and then?”

  “Yes, I did. It was fun—and you should see your face.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” His slight grin let her know he was teasing her.

  “Nothing wrong, exactly. But I do detect a calculating gleam in your eye.”

  “You’re onto me.” He studied her for a long count of five. “Jayden and Maya adore you. You’re amazing with kids.”

  “Um. Thanks?”

  “And I’m facing reality here, admitting that I do need a nanny while we’re in town. Will you consider taking the job? Flexible hours, whatever you can manage. As I already said, you’re so good with them, and you’re also right next door. You could just come on over anytime you’re available.”

  She sipped that second glass of wine she shouldn’t be having and considered the idea. She did enjoy being with the kids...

  He coaxed, “Say yes. I’ll definitely make it worth your while in terms of the money.”

  Now he’d done it—found her weak spot. She needed to save every penny she could get her hands on for her upcoming move. “You have an hourly rate in mind?”

  “Eighty an hour?”

  She tried not to gape. His offer was a lot more than she’d dared to hope for. “I could come in the afternoons. Mornings, I need to be at the theater. And then some days I would switch, watch the kids in the morning, go to the theater in the afternoon.”

  “As I said, whenever you’re available, I’m grateful for the help.”

  He’d pretty much had her at that giant hourly rate. Still, he needed to understand that she did require flexibility in terms of her schedule. “I really can’t work for you full-time.”

  “You already said that, and I heard you.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. Jayden and Maya love you, and you’re so good with them. If you could be here every weekday for a few hours—and longer whenever you can manage it? That would give me the time I need to put out any fires at Stryker Marine.”

  She suddenly felt hesitant, somehow.

  But why? She needed the money and he could use the help. Plus, it would be no hardship for her to spend time with Maya and Jayden.

  She would have to sock away every penny she could get her hands on to achieve her goal and make her move by February, and this was a golden opportunity to fatten her malnourished bank account.

  Linc leaned a fraction closer. She got a hint of his aftershave. Fresh and clean and manly. He was w
ay too attractive. And too rich. She’d read somewhere that he’d been CEO and President of Stryker Marine Transport since he was twenty-five. “Harper.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Just say yes.”

  Oh, come on. Why not? Instead of spending hours alone at her cottage, she could be here making excellent money, taking care of two great kids for this way-too-attractive man. “Yes.”

  His smile made her pulse speed up. “Can you start tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent. You just made my month—oh, and I have meetings I can’t get out of in Portland on Thursday and Friday the first week in December. Any chance you could spend the two days there with me and the kids at my house, looking after them while I’m at the office? I would pay you for eighteen hours a day on those two days if you can swing it.”

  She did the math. Almost three thousand dollars for two days. She would have to work it out with Hailey and Doug Dickerson. The theater’s volunteer lighting director, Doug would be stepping up into Harper’s job when she left in February. “Sure. I’ll make it work.”

  “You’re a lifesaver. Don’t move from that spot. I’ll get you a key and grab my laptop. We’ll download a simple contract, fill in the blanks to our mutual satisfaction and be good to go.”

  * * *

  After Harper left, Linc checked on the kids. They were both sound asleep, looking so pure and innocent, untroubled by the hard realities of life. He went into the master suite and spent about thirty seconds staring at the king-size bed. The duvet was rumpled from the four of them—Harper, the kids and him—lying there together to read bedtime stories.

  Linc glanced at his watch. It was barely nine.

  He could get a head start on messages before he turned in, find out more than he wanted to know about how everyone at the office was getting along in his absence.

  Downstairs again, he got his laptop from the office room and returned to the living area, where he sat on the sofa and started checking email and messages. Harper would be over around one tomorrow. She’d said she could stay into the evening if he needed her.

  He would absolutely need her.