Chapter 17.

Simon says: The perfect Christmas is the one I spend with you.

S imon strode into Ca.s.sie's apartment but couldn't seem to stop moving, from door to window and back again.

Ca.s.sie wished she dared to throw her arms around him and halt his frantic pacing.

"Why wouldn't you agree to at least meet John?" The anger seemed to radiate from him.

"Simon, you know why. I'm in love with you."

His eyes slammed shut and he clenched his jaw. "I don't want your love."

"So you said." That didn't change the way she felt, though.

"What harm would it have done to meet John?"

"None, I suppose," she said with a shrug. "But I felt I would've been doing him a disservice."

It was as though he hadn't heard her. "In other words, despite your a.s.surances that you're willing to move on with your life, you refuse to do so," he challenged.

Ca.s.sie sat on her sofa while Simon continued pacing. She tracked his movements with her eyes. "Don't worry. I'll date other men-when I'm ready."

He whirled around and glared at her.

Ca.s.sie felt it was her turn to pose a few questions. "Why are you fighting this?" she asked, looking up at him. "And...why are you here at all?"

"I had to talk to you about John." Simon shook his head. "Don't you realize marrying me would be a disaster?"

"Really?" It didn't escape her notice that he hadn't denied anything-and that he'd brought up marriage. Evidently the subject had been on his mind, which was encouraging. "Why's that?"

Simon abruptly stood still. "I suspect I'm not telling you anything you don't know. I'm not...comfortable with emotions on a personal level. I prefer to a.n.a.lyze and guide other people's emotional lives. I have a hard time admitting this, but I've always steered clear of the intensity, the giving up of control...." He sounded so unlike the confident, self-a.s.sured man she'd come to know, and his vulnerability made him even more appealing.

"I hate this confusion," he muttered. "I'm good at helping my clients sort through their feelings, good at writing about them-but not good at experiencing them. It makes me...miserable."

"I've been pretty miserable myself," Ca.s.sie said.

"Then we should both find ways of dealing with these emotions because I'm not changing my mind."

"So you've said."

"I mean it, Ca.s.sie."

She wasn't going to argue. "Yes, I know."

He stared at her, eyebrows raised. "Don't be so agreeable. I'm not used to it, and I don't know how to react when you're amenable to everything I say."

She nodded.

"See? That's what I mean." He pointed accusingly at her. "Listen. I know what kind of man makes a good husband-and I'm not it."

Ca.s.sie had to smile. "That's something I don't agree with. You've shown me truths about myself. Let me do the same for you."

Simon shook his head as if that possibility was beyond him.

Ca.s.sie wasn't about to let him a.s.sume he was incapable of love when she knew otherwise.

She stood and walked purposefully toward him. He was still pacing, so she caught his hand. Her fingers curled around his and he turned back to stare at her. Not giving him a chance to object, she leaned forward and placed her mouth on his.

Simon slipped one hand around the back of her head and kissed her with a hunger that thrilled her.

"We'll start with teaching you to accept my love," she whispered when he broke off the lengthy kiss.

Again he briefly closed his eyes.

"Love is one thing," he muttered. "But you want children. I don't know about children except in theory. I'm not good with them," he said. "They cry and make messes in their diapers and drool."

"That they do."

"I don't understand why people willingly submit themselves to the uncertainty and stress of raising children." He splayed his fingers through his hair.

Even as he spoke she heard the longing in his voice. Despite his claims to the contrary he desired a family, just like most people did. Just like she did. Unable to resist a moment longer, she slid her arms around his waist and hugged him close. He resisted at first and attempted to break free.

Ca.s.sie held tight. Smiling up at him, she stood on the tips of her toes, rested her hands on his shoulders and pressed her mouth to his. It was only a matter of seconds before he became fully involved in the kiss.

When her legs were about to give way, Simon tore his mouth from hers and stepped back, still holding on to her, which was a good thing. Otherwise Ca.s.sie would have collapsed in a heap on the floor.

He wagged a warning finger at her. "No more of that."

"Sorry." She felt she should probably apologize but giggled instead. "I couldn't help myself. Oh, Simon, you're right. I do want children-your children. We'll have very special babies."

His expression was wry. "They won't cry and make messes and-"

"Of course they will," she said, nudging him.

"Like I already said, I have no skills in this area."

"But I don't, either. We'll learn together, the way other parents do."

She wasn't sure if she'd convinced him or not because he continued to stare at her.

Then, as if he'd noticed the Christmas decorations for the first time, he frowned and said, "When you came to me, you talked about a perfect Christmas."

She nodded.

"I'm not big on Christmas."

"I think that's kind of a weak argument," she told him. "Seeing how every a.s.signment you gave me had to do with the holidays."

"Only because there's a surfeit of them at this time of year."

"True, but there are plenty of others and you chose the Christmas-related tasks."

"You've found some hidden meaning in that?"

"Yes. It's obvious to me that you enjoy the holidays."

When he started to protest, she held up a hand.

"Let me amend that. You enjoy watching other people enjoy Christmas. You understand why it's important to them, the same way you understand-in theory-why love and marriage and children are important. If you don't like Christmas, it's because you're alone. You don't have anyone to share it with. But, Simon, that's about to change."

"Aren't you making a.s.sumptions you have no business making?"

"Is this really so difficult?" she asked.

"Yes," he groaned.

Ca.s.sie gently laid her head against his chest and sighed meaningfully.

His sigh echoed hers. "Oh, I give up. You knew I'd fallen in love with you." He drew her toward him and rested his chin on her head.

"I hoped so."

"I do love you, Ca.s.sie."

"And I love you."

He leaned down and shattered what remained of her composure with a single kiss.

"You seriously want to marry me?" he whispered.

"More than I've wanted anything in my entire life."

"And children. You want children."

She nodded, knowing he wanted them as much as she did. "Two or three, at least."

He closed his eyes.

"You're going to be a wonderful father. And a wonderful husband."

"Our babies are going to inhabit my heart the same way you have. I see it happening already." He gazed down at her with such tenderness it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Inhabit your heart," she repeated. "And you've moved into mine."

"I couldn't forget you for even a second," he whispered, holding her close and breathing the words against her hair. "I'm not sure what it is about you that's different from all the other women I've met, the other women who fell in love with me...or thought they did. I just know you were right when you told me I loved you."

His arms tightened around her. "You're right about Christmas, too."

"I figured as much."

"Am I so easy to read?"

"No."

"We're going to have a very good life together," he murmured. "And every Christmas-"

Her phone rang, interrupting him. Ca.s.sie was content to let it ring until Simon released her.

Checking call display, she said, "It's my brother."

"You should answer it."

Nodding, she reached for the receiver. "h.e.l.lo, Shawn."

"Merry Christmas." Shawn's greeting sounded happier than she could remember hearing in a long, long time.

"Merry Christmas," she said in return.

"You seem happy...Any particular reason?"

"Simon's here."

Shawn hooted with laughter. "He couldn't hold out, could he?"

"Thankfully, no. Christmas came early for me."

"Me, too," Shawn said. "Come and join us, both of you."

Half an hour later, the four of them sat in front of a crackling fire in Angie's small rental house in West Seattle. The clock above the mantel chimed midnight.

"It's Christmas," Angie sang out as she leaned against Shawn.

Simon's arm was around Ca.s.sie's shoulder. "Christmas," she echoed. Then she spoke softly into his ear. "My perfect Christmas, Simon. I have it right here, right now, with you."

ISBN: 978-1-4268-4056-2.

THE PERFECT CHRISTMAS.