Christmas Ever After Page 5

  Trinity studiously ignored the soft scoff from beside her and focused on her daughter's reaction. Big brown eyes trailed between the two of them, then the girl smiled.

  "Does that mean I get to play on his phone all the time?"

  "Oh, honey, he's a busy man and he needs his phone for business,'' she quickly explained.

  The soft scoff came again, and Michael leaned in. "You can play games on my phone and play outside. I have a big backyard."

  She glared at Michael who only looked amused at her display of frustration before taking a sip from his cup of coffee.

  That was another thing that rankled her — he was so unaffected, drinking coffee and gloating. She had been advised to keep off caffeine for the next two days.

  "I know what you're doing," she whispered.

  "I hope so," he replied, his voice low and satisfied, like cat that got the canary.

  It drove a helpless shudder down her spine as she reminded herself to focus on her daughter.

  "Michael and I are getting married and we will have to live with him for a while. I hope you’re okay with that."

  It was a complicated subject to discuss with a five year old, but she wasn’t expecting the reaction.

  "Michael will be my new daddy?"

  She was taken aback by that question. Miranda was looking at Michael with a wide smile on her face, and Michael... Trinity took a quick look at him and was surprised to see contentment and joy. She needed to clear this up quickly.

  "Miranda, honey, he's not your daddy. We're going to be—" She never quite finished the sentence because Michael was out of his seat and crouching beside Miranda.

  The little girl’s starry eyes fixed on his, right before he stole their hearts with his next words. "If you want me to be your daddy, then I’m your daddy. Anything else you want me to be, I’ll try my hardest to be."

  As if that was not enough, he plucked the girl from her seat and hugged her before peering at Trinity over the child’s shoulder. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning look.

  She didn’t like this. She didn’t want her daughter getting too attached to Michael. This could spell trouble when it was time to go their separate ways. She grudgingly mouthed, “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She hoped to God she was doing the right thing.

  The trio left the restaurant and headed for Michael’s car. They were on their way to his house when she asked about retrieving her things, and he casually mentioned that he had her car towed to his house with all her belongings intact. She was shocked again. He had her car towed to his house even before he had a response from her.

  Trinity felt herself losing ground even more. For a single mother who had to weigh her every little action, the reality of having someone else in control and taking care of her was nice, but unsettling. She felt like she was on a rollercoaster ride with no exit in sight, yet she couldn't bring herself to get off the ride.

  He drove the car, his eyes trained on the road while he followed a nonsensical conversation with Miranda from the back seat. He didn't speed or try to show off, and all his movements were economical with a sort of lazy grace.

  She noticed his eyes on her, but only a quick glance before he turned back to the road. The confinement of the car suddenly felt too small. They drove into the grand estate house, down the circular driveway past perfectly manicured lawns, stopping in front of a huge house.

  She forced herself not to gawk when she stepped out of the car since there would be time for that later. However, Miranda was antsy to inspect everything in sight.

  "There is someone I have to introduce you to," Michael called, drawing her attention from her surroundings.

  They entered the house, and Trinity was wowed by everything she saw. The interior of the home was very modern, masculine and gorgeous. Paintings lined the cream-colored walls. There was a spiral staircase that she guessed led to the second floor. Michael headed straight for a room at the other end of the entrance, and judging from the scents wafting through, they had to be nearing a kitchen. Trinity tensed. Was he about to introduce her to his mother?

  She looked horrible after her night in the hospital, and she was sure his mother would not approve of her.

  "Well, what do we have here?" came a broad voice with a slight nasal twang.

  Trinity gasped when she turned the corner.

  The woman was tall and big boned, and her brown skin was just a shade or two darker than Trinity’s. She smiled toward Michael who smiled right back at her.

  No, it couldn't be…

  "Trinity I want you to meet Celia, my housekeeper and woman after my own heart," Michael introduced.

  "Go on with you," Celia said, grinning as the creases formed at the corner of her eyes, the only indication of her age.

  "You know it's the truth," Michael said.

  "Play with an old woman's heart, go ahead." The reply came in such an easy way that Trinity could recognize as a ritual between them.

  "This is Trinity and her daughter Miranda. We're getting married."

  “Married?” Celia wrinkled her brow and opened her mouth, no doubt wanting to extract more information from this sudden announcement but was interrupted by Miranda.

  Miranda thrust her hand at the woman with a very somber expression. "Hello."

  "No, little girl, how about a hug?"

  Miranda looked towards her mom and after Trinity gave a slight nod, she mumbled "Okay," before embracing Celia in a bear hug.

  "I'll leave you here with Celia, and she’ll show you girls your room. I need to make some calls," Michael told them before he excused himself.

  "You girls must be hungry," Celia asked after a moment of silence as Trinity stood rubbing her elbow missing the support Michael’s presence gave her.

  "We just ate breakfast," she answered quickly.

  "Come closer girl, I don't bite, at least not at first." Celia pointed to a stool and patted Miranda on her head before heading to the freezer to remove a few ingredients. She switched on the coffee maker.

  Trinity's eyes followed her actions and the older woman explained, "We have a kitchen staff for this, but I like to put my hands on things or it's quite easy to feel useless around here."

  With the frozen food thawing in the sink, she shifted to the coffee maker, pouring a cup and eyeing Trinity in question.

  "None for me," Trinity answered the unspoken question.

  "Suit yourself." Celia poured a small cup of milk for Miranda before returning to the breakfast nook, and sitting down.

  "So, how did you meet my Michael? I raised that boy and I know everything there is to know about him. You came from out of the blue. You can't blame a curious woman can you?"

  Trinity found herself telling the older woman everything, not even trying to minimize the truth. She found herself talking about her marriage and her problems, down to the happening of this morning. Maybe it was because the older woman was formidable and a little scary, or maybe it was the fact that she reminded her of her own mother — whatever the reason, she couldn't stop the torrents of words until she found herself absolutely drained and oddly relaxed. Who knew she needed someone to unload her burden?

  "I see why he did it. The Harper men are stubborn as hell. You'll meet his grandfather in time and see that truth," Celia replied as she drank her coffee.

  Trinity nodded, tensing at the idea.

  The older woman must have noticed, and added, “Don't be so scared. He's tough on the outside and soft and sweet on the inside."

  "Oh, thank God," Trinity murmured, emotions running through her at lightning speed.

  "But I am worried...for the three of you. Your reasons may be acceptable, but I don't want to see him hurt, or you for that matter," the older woman continued on a more serious note.

  "I would never hurt him," Trinity replied, unsure if it was even possible.

  "You can, girl, but you won't. I see that now, but mistakes happen. So I have a proposition for you." Celia looked her straight in the eye.

  "I'm
listening," Trinity replied, and the out of control feeling churning up her stomach again.

  "Why don't you stay with me instead until you get on your feet again?"

  She thought about it for one split second, sorely tempted. But she turned to find her daughters inquisitive eyes, obviously trying to follow the adult conversation.

  "Ah..." How was she going to explain it to Miranda?

  Celia followed her gaze and guessed the problem in her own way. "Don't stress yourself, girl, it was just an idea, and I’d hate to see the two of you get hurt when other things could have been done."

  "I understand and thank you for offering help to me."

  "Cheer up, he brought you home and I dare say you are better than those stick-thin girls that his grandfather has been throwing at him for years."

  With her own brand of approval tacked to the union, Celia drained her cup, patted Miranda as she collected her milk, and headed to the kitchen sink.

  

  Changes came at her right and left — just when she believed she was done, something cropped up to surprise the shit out of her.

  Cussing in her mind was still cursing, she decided, biting her lips as she stared into the mirror.

  The ceremony was hardly a large affair, smaller than her first wedding day, and even that had been small — just the two of them and close friends.

  This one was much smaller, yet she couldn’t help but to feel panic. Not running yet, but running a low-grade panic fever, like she couldn't decide which direction she was supposed to bolt in…

  Trinity smoothed the pale peach gown across her stomach and exhaled.

  She had not gotten used to the efficient, soundless minions that had transformed her empty room into something vaguely familiar in a matter of minutes, or the fact that the fairies made the dirty clothes hamper stay empty while its contents reappeared, clean and ironed in their closet — all courtesy of Michael’s servants.

  And now she was wearing a gown that she did not pick for her wedding day with elegant shoes of the same design. Even her makeup and hair were taken care of by a silent stylist who had come and gone so fast her head was still twisting.

  But that was not the extent of this rollercoaster ride…

  She could not quite get over the fact that she now had her own lawyer, which Michael insisted, and signing a prenup without reading a word of it.

  Now she was going to marry a man she hadn’t even known for a full week, and having met his grandfather and only relation seconds ago.

  Celia may have warned her, but nothing could have prepared her for the whirlwind that blew in with Michael’s grandfather.

  Michael Harper Senior, or Michael Harper the first, was an intimidating figure. He looked like his grandson minus the silver-grey eyes, since his were blue and just as shrewd. One look at Trinity and she knew he considered her subpar. No words spoken to that effect, and he had made conversation, but something light. She could not remember her replies since the nervous jumping in her stomach stole her senses.

  But he had been kind to Miranda and for that reason she was grateful. She was content with her decision every time she saw her daughter smile, every time she heard her laugh, and every time she saw her being good the little girl she really was.

  She just doubted her decision every other time in between those moments.

  The knock at the door startled her and she recoiled at the sudden noise.

  "Come in…" Her jittery nerves reflected in the tone of her voice.

  The door opened to reveal Celia, with Miranda in tow.

  "Mommy you look pretty.” The little girl had stars in her eyes as she looked at her mother.

  She smiled easily, taking a long look at her daughter dressed in a pale peach gown similar to her own. Her curls were pulled back with a sparkling ribbon of the same color with the bow at a jaunty angle. Trinity’s breath caught in her throat at the sight, reminding her of not so long ago.

  "You look beautiful too, Miranda."

  "We are getting married!" Miranda’s enthusiastic reply and her tension returned twofold at the reminder.

  "You make a fine bride," Celia complimented her with a soft smile.

  "Thank you, Celia." Despite her nerves, the words reassured Trinity.

  "It’s time!" The housekeeper gave a quick nod, and for some reason it felt like a death knell, the passing of a death sentence without a plea.

  "Can you give me a second?" Maybe several minutes? She needed more time to think.

  "Having second thoughts about going through with the marriage?"

  "Yes." Somehow, she found herself staying the truth again.

  "It means you want to be sure you're doing the right thing, and it shows you have some sense and my offer still stands," Celia concluded with a soft smile.

  Trinity bit her lips at that comment. "What if this is all wrong?"

  "Have your reasons for doing this changed?" Celia asked.

  Involuntarily her eyes strayed to Miranda before returning to Celia's. "No." It was the truth.

  “Then you best be prepared to get married today. You have a strapping young man waiting for you in the yonder room." Celia’s words were encouraging, despite her sudden cold feet. "Just remember to breathe."

  "Just breathe," she chorused.

  Taking a deep breath, Trinity snagged Miranda's hand and walked out of her room. Making the long trek to the living room, she knew she had a date with destiny.

  MICHAEL

  D espite the curve of her lips and the easy expression on her face, Michael could still feel the fine trembling of Trinity’s body next to him.

  When the officiating minister had pronounced them man and wife, and ended it with the obligatory you may kiss the bride, she huffed a sigh of relief and finally relaxed, her tense hand loosening in his grasp.

  Totally unprepared for his quick move, he tipped her closer, the movement drawing a gasp from her. Before she could draw another breath, his mouth closed over hers.

  He had not prepared for the taste, that wet warmth. At first, she had been so shocked and stock-still, her lips stiff and unresponsive. But then, she moved. Just one tentative flick of her tongue and he swore, the back of his head had exploded with pleasure.

  It was meant to be a quick, obligatory kiss to fulfill all righteousness and appease the crowd, but before he knew it, he was invading her mouth and she was returning the favor.

  Her taste exploded in his mouth, a light elusive fruity tang that drove him to delve deeper as he tried to decipher the flavor.

  The awareness between them blazed so suddenly out of control, and if it wasn’t for the sudden clearing of someone’s throat, Michael would have completely forgotten their crowd. So had she, judging by the way she appeared startled when pulling back. She blinked as if she didn’t understand what had happened between them, and he mourned the loss of her lips.

  He really hoped he could kiss those lips again.

  They turned hand in hand to the crowd with a smile, then the entire group moved to the dining table for a small feast that Celia had prepared.

  

  Much later in the evening, he knocked at her door. She opened it and flashes of surprise and confusion crossed her face. She stepped out of the bedroom and slightly closed the door, leaving just a little space.

  "Here." He handed her a bunch of papers. It was an odd wedding gift, but he needed to show her that he had kept up his own part of the deal — plus, he’d do anything to scare off the sudden tension rising in the room.

  She collected them, feeling confused and curious. Then, with one look, she understood exactly what he was showing her.

  The tension in her escaped, and with a small sigh, she smiled at him. "Thank you."

  “It's the least I can do," he said, before peeking through the door and catching sight of Miranda sprawled on the bed.

  “We’re sharing a room for the meantime. This is all new to both of us and I want to make sure she’s near me at all times,” Tri
nity said, following his gaze. “All the excitement got to her and she finally collapsed.”

  "Is she okay?"

  She bit her lips with a thoughtful look. A few seconds later, understanding glinted in her eyes — it was such a gratifying process, watching her small smile come to life. Never mind that; he was all too focused on the lips he had kissed earlier.

  "She's just overexcited and stayed up too late, and she finally fell asleep."

  "Alright then. I will be leaving for a business conference soon, and I just wanted to make sure everything is in order before I go." He gestured to the papers in her hand before adding, "Tomorrow we'll go and register her at the Hamilton Academy."

  Trinity gasped, eyes straying to her little child. Her smile dimmed. "I don't think that will be necessary."

  “Why not?"

  "Look,” she started, taking a deep breath before trying again. "We'll only be here for a year, and I don't want to have to pull her out of yet another school when the time is up."

  "I can pay the tuition for two or three straight years, whichever you decide. Oh, and one last thing," he added, holding his finger up.

  "What it is it?" She straightened her tense shoulders.

  "You'll have to resign from your job." There was no other way to say this so he plowed on. "I know you're an independent working woman, and I respect that, it's just that as my wife, being a janitor doesn’t look good."

  She struggled with that one — he could literally see the shadows coasting through her brown eyes before she conceded with a small nod.

  “Thank you," he whispered, truly grateful.

  The silence returned, as did the blaze in her eyes. The tension he had tried to keep away returned, burning brighter than ever.

  TRINITY

  I f she had thought being married was the one huge hurdle to cross before everything settled back to normal, the last week without Michael had taught her otherwise.

  Celia had warned her that she would become a silent ornament, but it wasn’t until Miranda was gone for the day that she truly realized she was.