Twins For Christmas: A Little Christmas Magic / Lone Star Twins / A Family This Christmas

It felt like high praise. Especially when it came with a smile and a softening of those dark eyes. Yes … the lines of those boundaries had definitely been blurred. Where exactly did they stop now?

Inexplicably, that silent query kicked the tingle up by several notches. In a kind of backwards trickle that went through her limbs and pooled somewhere deep inside.

‘How do you know how to get on so well with kids? You said you didn’t have any younger brothers or sisters, didn’t you?’

She nodded again. ‘I did have a kind of older brother, though. Jack.’

‘A kind of brother?’

‘He was the son of my parents’ best friends. A lot older than me but we got on really well. Still do. He’s … important in my life.’

That was an understatement but Adam had obviously picked up on the vibe.

‘Your boyfriend?’

‘Heavens, no …’ Emma almost smiled at the question but there was something in Adam’s tone that she couldn’t place. Did he want her to have a boyfriend? So that those boundaries were clearly flagged? What would happen when he knew the truth?

‘I love Jack dearly,’ she said quietly, ‘but definitely in the brother category. And he’s happily married now with his first baby on the way. No … he’s even more special now because he became a doctor and then a specialist in oncology. He kept Mum going for a lot longer than she might have had otherwise and she had a good quality of life until … the end.’

And he’d been her primary physician ever since her own diagnosis. How many people were lucky enough to get a doctor who cared so much? Who was so determined to succeed?

‘How long ago did you lose your mother?’

‘Just last year.’ Emma met his sympathetic gaze. The boundary lines were totally invisible now. It felt like she was sitting here talking to a friend, not her employer. ‘And I miss her terribly. You’re very lucky to have your mum as part of your life.’

‘I know. But she does too much. It’s not fair …’ For a heartbeat, as Adam held her gaze, it seemed like he was going to say something else. About his mother? About her?

Something that might reveal he was feeling the extraordinary connection that had Emma slightly stunned?

No. Emma couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment that coursed through her as Adam frowned and looked away. Normal service was being resumed. Maybe a breathing space was a good idea. For both of them. Or maybe she’d just been imagining that connection.

He held up his paper chain.

‘Will this be long enough, do you think? When it’s joined to yours?’

By the time breakfast was ready the next day, the paper chains were back in place as though nothing had happened last night.

Poppy and Oliver had bounced back to normal in the delightful way children could. Not only was Adam apparently forgiven for his outburst, the twins were impressed that he had fixed the paper chain himself.

‘All by yourself?’ Poppy asked.

‘Emma showed me what to do.’

Emma looked up from where she was spooning porridge into bowls and grinned at him. ‘I expect you could have worked it out all by yourself,’ she said generously. ‘Coffee?’

‘Please.’ It made him feel good to remember their time together last night. Talking about things he would never normally share. Feeling as if he was in the company of someone he could talk to about anything at all. Adam began to smile back at her but he was aware of the intense scrutiny of the children so he smiled at them instead.

‘It makes your mouth taste funny after a while, doesn’t it? Licking the sticky paper?’

‘Aye …’ Oliver nodded solemnly as he climbed onto his chair. ‘It does at that.’

Adam’s mouth twitched into a wider smile at the adult turn of phrase from his small son but then it faded as he caught the glance slanted in his direction as Oliver reached for his glass of milk. There was a hint of wariness in those brown eyes that were so like his own. Ollie was on his best behaviour, wasn’t he? Just in case …

And that hurt. How often had his children tiptoed around him? he wondered. To stop him being cross.

Or sad.

The resolution to put the years of mourning behind this family and move forward had seemed more of a mountain to climb when he’d woken this morning after a somewhat disturbing dream that had included the new nanny but Adam had gathered it back and shored it up.

Things were going to change around here.

And Christmas was the perfect time to start.

‘Tonight,’ he told his children, ‘when I get home from work, we’re going to have an expedition.’

‘What’s an exposition?’ Poppy looked at the bowl Emma put in front of her. ‘I don’t like porridge.’ She frowned. ‘It’s icky.’

‘Not when you put a little bit of cream and some brown sugar on it. Here, I’ll help you.’

‘An expedition is an adventure,’ Adam told his daughter. ‘And when I get home, we’ll get the ladder out and go up into the attic.’

Oliver stopped making roads through his porridge with his spoon. ‘The attic? Where the ghost is?’

‘There’s no such thing as ghosts,’ Adam said firmly. ‘It’s where the box of Christmas decorations is. We’re going to find it and then decorate your tree.’

Poppy’s gasp was one of pure excitement. She had to climb off her chair, onto her father’s lap, throw her arms around his neck and plant a kiss—sticky with brown sugar—in the middle of his cheek.

The dogs caught the excitement. Benji barked and chased his tail over by the fire and staid old Bob’s tail was waving like a flag. Even studious little Oliver was grinning widely.

Adam could almost taste the sweetness of the sugary kiss Poppy had bestowed but when she returned to her own chair he looked across to where Emma was sitting with her own bowl of porridge. He might have expected to see her beaming at him with that infectious joy she had but, instead, her smile was poignant and there was a sparkle in her eyes that reminded him of when they had been full of tears.

She knew how much of an effort he was making here. That things were going to change and that this was going to be the best Christmas he could manage for the twins.

The memory of that butterfly’s-wing touch of Emma’s lips on the corner of his mouth came flooding back. And that peculiar moment when he’d caught her gaze after she talked about her mother and he’d had the disconcerting notion that he was actually falling into those blue pools. And that merged into a remnant of his dream that he couldn’t quite catch and probably didn’t want to anyway, but something was hanging in the air between him and Emma.

Yes. Things were changing. Had he thrown a pebble into a still pond and the ripples were only just beginning?

That was disturbing. Adam fed his crust to the dogs and drained the last of his coffee.

‘Time for me to go to work,’ he announced gruffly, careful to avoid any more eye contact with Emma that might add to the alarming impression that he might have started something that could get completely out of control.

‘You won’t forget, will you, Dad?’

‘What’s that, Ollie?’

‘About the adventure. In the attic.’

‘No, son.’ He ruffled Oliver’s hair. ‘I won’t forget. I promise.’