He opened the passenger door and stepped back to let them in. She propelled Matt like a missile onto the middle seat and jumped in behind him. Jared shut her door and climbed in his side, wondering why she was so prickly about this.
Before he started the pickup, he glanced over. Katherine zipped her jacket part of the way up and hugged the truck door. If she got any closer, she'd plop out onto the pavement for sure. She half-turned and started to buckle Matt's seat belt, however Jared beat her to it. “I got it. Relax."
He turned on the radio, and they listened to Matt attempting to sing Christmas carols for several miles. The temperature during the day stayed at sixty degrees, but it dropped to forty at night. He wished the weather would turn cold, so it would seem more like Christmas. Houston weather differed from hometown New York, where he'd spent years practicing law. Everything was different, which is why he'd moved here in the first place. Nice people. Quiet lives. His engagement to Shannon had proved even he was different. He'd thought he had found someone to love him back. Someone to share his dreams, build a future with. He clenched his jaw. He'd been wrong. Since then, if he wanted sex, willing women were easy to find and even easier to leave and forget.
He glanced over again at the icy beauty. Her rosy cheek appeared practically pasted to the window. He looked back at the road with a silent grunt. She could sit on the roof for all he cared. She didn't have anything to worry about from him. The last thing he wanted was to get mixed up with her. Hell, he liked his women to at least be approachable. But she sure made the scenery more beautiful with those rich jade eyes, ebony hair and silky, smooth skin-not to mention those lush, sweet curves. If she knew how much he enjoyed touching her body, she would brain him with a rolling pin.
Now that the singing from between them had stopped, he glanced down at the source of small snoring sounds. Matt snuggled deeper onto his arm. A warm feeling of tenderness filled Jared's chest. The little boy reminded Jared of himself as a child with the broken family and absent father. Matt was resting his eyes until they got there, as Jared used to put it.
Katherine glanced over at him and Matt, clutched her shoulder bag tighter to her chest, turned her head and stared out the window. The look she threw Jared reminded him of a rattler about to strike.
He glanced down at Matt again and straightened his coat, remembering once again how he stood up for his mom today. How could a man leave a boy like Matt? More incredulous, how could his father not see his son every chance he got? He ground his back teeth together. What if Matt's father was like his-never gave a damn about his son?
Turning his head, he glanced at Katherine, wondering why she'd gotten divorced. As an attorney, he'd seen some flimsy excuses. Were her excuses flimsy? That thought brought him up short. Whatever the reasons, they were certainly none of his business. Don't even go there, he warned himself.
“You sure are quiet over there,” he said. “You fall out that door and I'll have to administer mouth-to-mouth.” He chuckled when she scooted across the leather away from the door.
He'd never seen anyone so jittery around a man. Did she dislike all men, or just him? She must have a problem. He liked his women a little calmer and a whole lot more sure of themselves sexually. No pretending about what they wanted. No shyness about being a woman. They articulated loud and clear their desire for a man to take them to bed.
He glanced at Katherine again. No, sir, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he would make a fool of himself over her. She wasn't his type.
“But, I want this one,” Matt said, standing in the tree lot.
Katherine stared at the beautiful, gigantic, silvery-blue tree. Her father always bought traditional green ones that smelled like evergreen. She bent, lifted the branches of the Arizona Cypress and sniffed, enjoying the same sharp, pungent evergreen scent that brought back so many happy memories. But the idea of not holding to the traditional past bothered her.
A gentle breeze drifted through the tree-lot tent, carrying with it the smells of pine, woodchips from trimming the base of the trees, and cedar. She moved to stand beside a twin to this tree only vivid green instead of silvery-blue. “How about this one?” she coaxed.
Matt crossed his arms.
Jared rounded the corner. His boots crunched as he walked on the pea gravel covering the ground. “I've loaded mine into the truck. I thought I'd come and see if you need any help.” He slowed his steps, stopped in front of them and glanced quizzically from Matt to Katherine. “What's going on?"
“We need help,” Matt said.
“We don't need help,” she corrected.
Jared directed his attention to Matt. He hunkered down next to him. “What's the problem, pal?"
Matt reached to touch his tree and attempted to hug the branches. “I want this one. But Mom wants that one.” He pointed to the mate to his tree, decked in its natural greenery.
Jared stood up and scratched his head. He stared at Katherine. “I don't get it. It's the same tree only one's green and the other has been flocked with a dab of white. Both are beautiful, full and healthy."
Of all the nerve, she could swear he smirked at her. She decided to tell him to mind his own business when he turned to look at Matt.
“Tell you what.” He put his hand on Matt's shoulder. “Why don't we let your mom explain why you can't have the tree you have your heart set on?"
They both turned to face her and suddenly she felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas.
“My dad always-.” She gulped and stared at their blank-faced responses, fighting tears of loss and frustration. “I think we should uphold-."
How did she explain sentiment, wanting-no needing everything to stay the same? How did she explain that she refused to admit her father had died? If she could keep everything the same, he would still be there. A part of him… Her eyes burned with tears, but she kept them at bay.
A man like Jared wouldn't understand her feelings of loneliness, and she didn't want Matt aware of her grief. She looked at Matt's hopeful expression and came to a mother's decision. It would make her feel better to keep everything the same. But she wouldn't risk spoiling Matt's Christmas.
What would her father have done if she'd wanted that Arizona Cypress? She looked at the sky, feeling his approval. Damn right-he'd have moved heaven and earth to give it to her.
Katherine knelt beside her son. She tickled his belly. “Would I ever let you down?"
Matt's laughter said she'd made the right decision.
She giggled at the sound of his happiness. “I changed my mind. Load the silvery-blue tree for me and Matt, please."
As they walked back to the truck, she rationalized her decision over again. After all, one small change isn't much of a concession. Everything else is the same. And she intended to keep it that way this Christmas.
Jared offered her a devastating smile as he shoved the tree into the bed of the truck.
He bent, lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “You made Matt happy. I suspect you sacrificed something back there to make that happen."
Her stomach fluttered as his warm breath caressed her neck. She stepped away from him and shrugged. “That's what moms do."
Jared hooked his hands in his coat pockets and frowned. His eyes clouded with sadness. “Not all moms."
His jaw clenched, and Katherine saw something vulnerable behind the sardonic strength she'd seen so far. Caught up in what she saw, but could not understand, she lifted her hand to touch him. What am I doing? She snatched it back to her side, making a fist.