Free The Christmas Proposition by Cindy Kirk Page A

question.
    Rachel felt compelled to defend their action, though she didn’t understand it herself. “They are Tom’s parents.”
    “Hey, I didn’t mean anything.” He lifted his hands, an ornament in each one. “It’s…nice…that they keep in touch.”
    “I think it’s weird,” Mickie said.
    Rachel inhaled sharply, too stunned to reply.
    “Mickie.” A hint of reproach filled Derek’s voice. “You owe Rachel an apology.”
    Instead, Mickie’s chin lifted in a stubborn tilt. “But why would his mom and dad call her? Why? ”
    Attitude dripped from the last word and out of thecorner of Rachel’s eye she saw Derek’s expression darken.
    “We had some business to discuss,” Rachel said.
    “Even if you didn’t, you were a part of their family for a good number of years,” Derek said. “I’m sure you had a close relationship during that time. It’s only natural they’d want to keep in touch.”
    Mickie rolled her eyes.
    “Honey.” Rachel stepped close and placed a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder. While she didn’t want to ruin the afternoon, she couldn’t let such behavior go unchallenged. “Rolling your eyes is rude. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that again.”
    Mickie’s bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry.”
    Motherly love rose up inside Rachel. She wrapped her arms around the girl, pulling her close, planting a kiss on the top of Mickie’s curly head. “Forgiven.”
    Rachel lifted her head and her eyes met Derek’s. His slow smile of approval sent warmth coursing all the way to the tips of her toes.
    She pulled her gaze away, her heart full, but at the same time, light. “Why are we standing around? We’ve got a tree to decorate.”
     
    “It’s bee-u-ti-ful.” Mickie clasped her hands together and stared at the large tree, her eyes as bright as the lights gracing its branches.
    “We did good,” Derek agreed.
    Instead of a tedious task, hanging the ornaments and stringing the lights had been a joyous endeavor, thanks mostly to Rachel. She’d made it, well, fun. Before they started, she’d insisted he look through his friend’s vastCD collection for some Christmas music. Surprisingly, they’d found not only traditional holiday classics but some children’s tunes as well. Right now a tune from “A Chipmunk Christmas” blared from the Bose speakers.
    Rachel stood beside him, gazing at the tree. The glow on her face matched the wonder on the child’s face in front of her. Derek fought an almost-uncontrollable urge to slip his arm around her shoulder. Only the knowledge that such an action could ruin the moment kept his hands at his side.
    “Look.” Mickie pointed to the large floor-to-ceiling window almost obscured by the large tree. “It’s still snowing.”
    Rachel’s eyes widened. “Ohmigod.”
    Derek moved past her to the glass. The thick blanket of white covering the ground had grown significantly since they’d gotten home. The way the flakes were falling, the snow was destined to get even deeper.
    “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it was getting so bad.” Rachel’s fingers curved around his arm as she leaned close for a better look.
    Derek inhaled the clean fresh scent of her. The dulcet sounds of Kenny G’s sax had replaced the raucous Chipmunk music and the candles they’d lit earlier added a warm intimacy. For several heartbeats he stood, reveling in the moment which seemed suspended in time.
    Until Mickie wiggled between them. “Are we snowed in?”
    The child couldn’t have sounded happier if Santa Claus laden with gifts had dropped from the chimney.
    “I’m sure we can make it home.” Though the wordswere confident, Rachel’s voice wavered and concern filled her blue eyes.
    A blast of wind hit the windows. The house shuddered.
    Derek shook his head. “It’s not worth the risk.”
    “We don’t want to get in an accident,” Mickie said.
    Hiding a smile, Derek glanced at Fred asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. It was