Wanted: Mom for Christmas (A Cates Brothers Book) Read online

  Cover copy

  Christmas is coming to Climax, North Carolina—and it’s delivering an unexpected second chance right to Hawk Savage’s door…

  For small-town cop and single dad Hawk Savage, Christmas tends to be more hassle and worry than mistletoe and magic. His daughter, Heather, is ten going on teenager, while his son, Henry Lee, has decided he needs a mommy, ASAP. HL’s constant matchmaking is enough to break a father’s heart, but Hawk has a more immediate problem. His high-school girlfriend, Nora Joy, just arrived on his doorstep, claiming to be his family’s new Rent-A-Mom. He sure didn’t hire her, but he can’t turn Nora’s admittedly shapely tush out on the street.

  Sidelined by injury, Olympic medal-winning volleyball player Nora receives a mysterious Rent-A-Mom job offer just when her finances, and her spirits, are at an all-time low. True, she’s not much for cooking. Or housekeeping. Still, it’s hard to resist Hawk’s children…and Hawk himself has changed from the lanky teenager she once knew to a strong, steady, very tempting man.

  Christmas in Climax is shaping up to be full of surprises. But the biggest one of all might be the happy-ever-after that a little boy’s Christmas wish can bring…

  Also by Lee Kilraine

  You Can’t Hurry Love

  Love 2.0

  Crazy Love

  Could This Be Love?

  Bringing Delaney Home

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  Wanted: Mom for Christmas

  A Climax Christmas Story

  Lee Kilraine

  LYRICAL PRESS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  Lyrical Press books are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2017 by Lee Kilraine

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  First Electronic Edition:

  eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0598-4

  eISBN-10: 1-5161-0598-2

  First Print Edition:

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0419-2

  ISBN-10: 1-5161-0419-6

  Printed in the United States of America

  To all who need some Christmas magic.

  “Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.”

  Hamilton Wright Mabie

  Do you believe in Christmas magic? It’s fine if you don’t. Not everyone does. Certainly not everyone in Climax, North Carolina believes in it. But that’s the beauty of Christmas magic… It weaves its way through lives and hearts and gives those who need it something to believe in. Love.

  Chapter One

  Believe

  “Dad, I need you to take me bra shopping.”

  As a widowed father with a fast approaching teenage daughter, Hawk Savage had been dreading this day for years. He knew it was inevitable. He’d tried to avoid it by having his sister, Georgie, handle it, but that had been a no-go for his very shy daughter.

  “Daddy, did you hear me?”

  “I heard you, Heather.” He kept his hands in the sink, scrubbing the dishes with careful attention lest he turn and look at his daughter. Holy fuck, she was only ten. Still a baby in the scheme of things. Ten seemed too early. He thought he’d had at least another, hell, five years. “I thought your Aunt Georgie took you shopping last week.”

  “She did, but I was too embarrassed. I need you to take me.” He heard Heather’s sneakers shuffle against the floor behind him. “I’m like the only girl in the fourth grade not wearing one.”

  How could that be? Did he know this about fourth grade girls? No. Wait…if she needed a bra then… Closing his eyes, he ran some words through his head, but his brain was refusing to cooperate. “Have you…you know…”

  “Have I what?” Heather’s voice inflected up. Of course his shy, sensitive daughter was as embarrassed by this conversation as he was.

  Hawk had lived through war zones, shoot outs with gangs, and raids on meth labs. All of those seemed easier than what he had to steer through right now. “Have you started menstruating?”

  “Eeew, Daaad, stop. I knew I couldn’t ask you!” Her last word ended on a sob, and she sprinted from the kitchen and up to her room, her bedroom door slamming—a big old exclamation point to how badly he’d messed that up.

  He pulled his hands from the sudsy water, then grabbed onto the sink ledge with a white knuckled grip. Times like this, when he failed his kids, he wished fate had dealt him a different hand. But that only made him feel guilty—because he knew Holly had had the worst deal of all. Hell, he had no doubt if Holly were the one single parenting, she wouldn’t be screwing up like he was. “I could use some help here. A little guidance. Throw me a rope, a sign, anything. I’m heading into unfamiliar territory with no map.”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  Hawk dropped his head and relaxed his grip on the sink. He needed to pull it together. Grabbing the dish cloth off the counter, he dried his hands and turned to his son. “Whoever’s listening, silent ninja.”

  Henry Lee grinned up at him. “I snuck up on you good, huh, Dad?”

  “You sure did.” He scooped him up, tossing him over his shoulder and carrying him down the hall to his son’s bedroom to delighted squeals and giggles. “You probably tried to sneak like a ninja past your bedtime.”

  He tossed his son lightly onto the bed where he bounced and giggled some more, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Did it work?”

  “Sorry, HL. Let’s go. Teeth and pj time.” He usually wasn’t a stickler about bedtimes, since as a working father, some of the best quality time was in these special moments at the end of the day. But Hawk had had a piercing headache for half the day and was ready to crash himself. While HL bounced across the hall to brush his teeth, Hawk grabbed out a clean set of pajamas and his son’s current favorite bedtime story.

  HL frowned at the pajamas when he reentered the room. “Dad, I’m too old for those.”

  “These are your favorite ones.” Hawk sat down on the edge of the twin bed, fingering the once-revered Ninja Squirrel pajamas. They were soft and thin with wear. Damn, his kids were changing faster than he could keep up. Which reminded him…“Hey, anything happen to your sister at school or on the bus today that you know about?”

  Shrugging, Henry Lee grabbed a plain T-shirt from his dresser and tugged it on over his he
ad. “Scott Stokes called her chicken legs, but he does that every day.”

  Oh, boy. Tough to handle for his shy girl, yet she hadn’t complained or cried to him. His sensitive girl who too often internalized things trying not to worry him. Poor kid might have been blessed with her mama’s sweet temperament but physically, she was all Savage. She was inches taller than all the boys in her grade already. She was all long legs, sharp elbows, and angst. And he hadn’t a clue how to help her.

  HL climbed up into the bed, slipped under the covers, and looked up at him with his mama’s dark eyes. “Dad, are you getting married this year?”

  “It’s three weeks before Christmas and I’m not dating anyone, so no, not planning to get married.” He knew how bad HL wanted a mama, but the years of grief had transitioned into years of trying to do right by his two kids. For a few years, he thought he’d managed all right, with help from his family and friends. But now? Now he felt his grasp on parenting slipping away again as the kids got older and their needs were changing. He rubbed his chest, trying to dissipate the tight burning sensation. “We’ve talked about this—”

  “I was just checking before I make my list for Santa.”

  “You know that’s not how it works, right, HL?”

  “I know. I can’t pick my mommy—you have to.” HL shrugged and quickly jumped to the next topic on his mind. “Jordy said Santa isn’t real. Is that true, Dad?”

  Hell. HL’s friend, Jordy, had high school-age sisters. As such, good ole’ Jordy was a font of information that really livened up their dinner table conversations. “What do you think?”

  “I think he’s real. Aunt Georgie said everyone should believe in Christmas magic ‘cause it makes the world a better place.”

  Thank you, Georgie. He was happy to put that off another year, especially since he had to figure out how to handle his ten-year-old daughter speeding toward puberty.

  “Hey, where’s your lucky Pokémon card?” It normally sat in a place of honor leaning up against the Lego lamp on his bedside table.

  “I traded it for something.” HL propped his pillow up and leaned against it. “I’m eight now, Dad. Me and Jordy decided we’re too old for them. I’m getting too old for lots of stuff.”

  “Like what?” Hawk’s chest hurt at the day’s reminders of how fast his kids were growing up. Either that or he was coming down with the flu.

  “Baths. Guys take showers, like you do.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ms. Windsor says I’m too old for shooting spit balls at girls.”

  “I agree with Ms. Windsor.” Even though he, Quinn, and Gage had probably enjoyed that “fun” well into fourth or fifth grade.

  “Pajamas with feet.”

  Which explained the Ninja Squirrel pajamas. “So plain pajamas with no feet. Got it. How about stories at bedtime? Are you too old for them?”

  “No. Ms. Windsor says you’re never too old for stories.”

  “Your teacher is very smart. Okay, scoot over and let’s read. The BFG again?” Hawk settled in next to HL, ready to read his son’s favorite book for the hundredth time.

  “Wait, no!” HL jumped out of bed and over to his backpack on the floor. “Ms. Windsor read The Polar Express in class today and she let me bring it home.”

  Crawling back in bed with the book, the two of them took turns reading. It was easy to see why the book had captured his son’s attention. A story about a young boy and Christmas magic just when other kids in his grade were trying to convince him Santa wasn’t real.

  Just because Hawk had stopped believing in magical Christmases years ago didn’t mean HL had to. And that eased the smallest part of guilt that stabbed at him. They got to “the end” just as his son’s eyelids drooped heavily.

  Hawk helped settle his son under his big, warm quilt and kissed him on his head. “Night, HL. I love you, buddy.”

  Flipping the light off, he paused on his way out at Henry Lee’s sleepy voice.

  “Daddy, I’m not too old for a mommy. In case you were wondering.”

  * * * *

  Nora Joy thought she’d hit rock bottom six months ago when a torn rotator cuff injury had threatened to end her career as one of America’s top beach volleyball players. She’d been dead wrong.

  Because less than an hour ago she’d found out her place on the National team was in jeopardy even after six long months of rehab. She needed a hot bath, a glass of wine, and the understanding shoulder of her boyfriend, Eric, to cry on. Except today wasn’t about her, so she packed all the negative thoughts deep away for now. Today was Eric’s birthday. She’d told him her doctor’s appointment had been bumped back a day so she could surprise him.

  In retrospect, having slipped quietly into their apartment, not a good decision. Turned out he surprised her—because she walked in on him having sex with her best friend. Surprise!

  It hurt like the stab in the back it was. A sharp jagged pain that stole her breath. Sure, maybe her pride hurt more than her heart, but she was too shocked to examine that for the moment. And she honestly wasn’t sure what hurt more: her boyfriend’s infidelity or the betrayal by her best friend and volleyball partner.

  She took one look at their naked lover’s knot and turned right around, leaving as their shocked faces swiveled her way. Okay, maybe she’d thrown Eric’s favorite devil’s food double chocolate cake at them. And fans didn’t call her Nora “Nailed it” Joy for nothing, so yes, it’s possible she’d hesitated just long enough to see the cake explode against Eric’s naked ass as flying globs of icing and cake splattered across their tangled limbs.

  How was this happening? It felt like she was watching one of those over-the-top soap operas. Was it weird that she could still see them in her mind’s eye and the most dominant thought was how come Eric never tried that position when we had sex? Yes it was weird and she needed to pull her crap together.

  She drove to the only place she had left to go: the apartment she used to share with her mother up until she moved in with Eric last year. Her mom sat in the living room drinking a margarita and waving around freshly painted nails.

  “Hey, honey. So, what’s the verdict? What did Doctor Bob say about your shoulder?”

  Nora dropped down onto a dark fuchsia velvet settee that was a new addition since she’d moved out. “It doesn’t matter. I’m quitting.”

  “You can’t quit!” Her mother sat forward on the couch, a frown struggling through her botoxed forehead. “You’re at the top of your game. Once you get past this injury things will be fine. You’ll see.”

  “I just walked in on my boyfriend and my best friend having wild acrobatic sex. Things are not fine, Mom.”

  “Oh, well, that explains it. You’re upset. I understand, but Nora, you and Beth are too close to winning the gold in the next Olympics to let something this little come between you.”

  Something this little? Reason number six hundred and seventy-eight why your mother should never be your manager. But then her mama never had been one of those supportive mothers who’d hug her baby girl when she was down. “About that—Doctor Bob said there’s a buildup of scar tissue from the surgery. He has serious doubts that I’ll come back from the injury—not at an Olympic level. I think I’m done.”

  Her mother sprung up from her seat. “You cannot quit, Eleanor.”

  Nora ran a hand over her eyes and searched deep for whatever last bit of strength and patience she could find. “Ma, we’ll be fine. We’ve got all my endorsement money. I’ll buy us a small house outside of the city and we can—”

  “There’s no money.”

  “Of course there’s money. You’ve been investing my sponsorship money for years.”

  Her mother’s head jerked away avoiding her gaze. “I never actually invested it. The market was too volatile—so I kept it in savings.”

  “Okaaay, so we’ve got a small nest eg
g.” Pain jabbed at her temples as the day kept piling on.

  “I’m afraid not.” Her mom shook her head. “Living in California isn’t cheap. And there are expectations and an image to keep up.”

  “Ma, I practically live in bikinis and workout clothes. What expectations and image are you talking about?”

  “Me! I’m talking about me! When you’re the manager for one of the world’s top beach volleyball players, people have expectations. While you’re off gallivanting around the world, I’m stuck here handling everything. It’s very stressful, Nora. So I’m forced to escape to the spa or do some retail therapy.”

  Handling what? Not the investments apparently. “So there’s no money? Not a cent?”

  Her mother sighed in frustration and plopped back down on the couch, blowing once on her nails before raising her eyes to Nora’s. “Actually, you’re in debt. About twenty thousand, not including late fees and penalties.”

  “What the hell, Mom?” The air whooshed out of her lungs like when she landed hard on the sand after saving a point with a desperate dive.

  “Don’t yell at me, Eleanor!” Her mother blinked back tears.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just a shock.” She sucked in a big breath and released it slowly. And again. “Okay, so we’ll start over. We’ll be fine. We can move somewhere cheaper, preferably far away from the beach volleyball scene. Maybe back to North Carolina.”

  “Beth offered me a job as her manager. I wasn’t going to accept, but since you’re quitting…”

  “You’re taking it?” It was Nora’s turn to jump up from her seat. “Even though she just broke your own daughter’s heart by sleeping with my boyfriend?”

  “Well, I really want that gold medal.” Her mom shrugged like it was no big deal. “Good luck finding a job in this economy. You’ve got a GED and a useless degree.”

  Nora gritted her back teeth together. “You pushed me into that useless degree.”

  “How was I to know you’d turn into a quitter? Jesus, Nora, if I’d known that I’d have steered you into a more marketable degree.” She shook her head in disgust. “You’re really not qualified for anything.”