The Christmas Wife (7 page)

“Hattie, what do you say?”  Claire reminded her as she
jumped up and down.

“Thank you so much, nana!”  Hattie shouted.  “I love my
green bike!”

“I’m so glad, my darling.”  Rosa held her arms out and the
little girl hugged her tightly.

“Now, are you sure you don’t want to stay with me tonight? 
We can make popcorn and watch a movie and play with whatever toys you want.”

Deacon jerked in surprise and gave Claire a quick glance. 
She smiled weakly at him and told herself it was relief not disappointment she
was feeling when Hattie shook her head.

“No, thank you, nana.  I have to go home with mama.”

“I like nana, mama, do you like her?”

“I do, honey.  She’s very nice.”  Claire held back the
covers on Hattie’s bed.

“I like Tyson too.  But I don’t like Brandon.”  The little
girl climbed into her bed.  “I want my truck.”

Claire snagged it from the floor and Hattie placed it beside
her before carefully tucking the covers around it.

“Why not?”

“He’s mean.  He wouldn’t let me and Tyson play with the
remote control truck, and he said that girls were dumb and didn’t know how to
drive trucks.”

“Well, sometimes boys say silly things but it isn’t nice to
call him mean.  You just need to get to know him a little better.”  Claire tucked
the covers firmly around the little girl.  “Honey, are you going to stay in your
own bed tonight?”

Last night she had put Hattie to bed at her usual time. 
When she and Deacon had gone upstairs, they had found her sleeping in the
middle of Deacon’s bed.  Claire had moved her to her own bed and crawled in
beside her.  She was almost certain that the little girl would wake up and
wander into Deacon’s room, and Claire wasn’t sure how many times the little
girl would fall for the ‘I’m getting a glass of water’ excuse. 

She rubbed at her neck.  The bed was comfortable enough but
it was a small twin and she had woken this morning with Hattie legs nearly
wrapped around her head. 

“Maybe,” Hattie said.

“Hattie, I checked under the bed and there are no monsters. 
You need to stay in your own bed tonight and not come into Deacon’s room,
okay?”

“Because you and Mr. Stone are making a baby?”  Hattie
asked.

Claire nearly fell off the bed.  “Honey, where did you hear
that?”

“Brandon.  He said you and Mr. Stone would kiss and stuff
and make a baby.  He said I would have a brother or sister.”

She gave Claire an anxious look.  “I don’t want a brother,
mama.  Can you make a girl?”

“Honey, Deacon and I are not going to make a baby.  So don’t
worry about that, alright?”

“Why not?”  Hattie asked.

“Well, because we just got married.  Usually people wait a while
after they get married before they have a baby.”

“Oh,” Hattie said.

“But you still need to stay in your own bed because you’re a
big girl and big girls sleep in their own bed.  Do you understand?”

“Sure,” Hattie said.  “Can I stay up for a little longer? 
We can watch TV together.”

“No, honey.  It’s way past your bedtime and I’m going to
sleep too.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Will you leave the light on, mama?”

“I’ll leave the nightlight on.”  Claire hugged Hattie
tightly and kissed her soft cheek.  “Good night, Hattie, I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.”

* * *

Claire paused in the doorway of Deacon’s
bedroom.  He was standing next to the bed and he gave her a curious look.  “What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing.” 

“Okay.  Did you put Hattie to bed?”

“Yes, hopefully she stays in her own bed
tonight.”  She walked toward the closet as Deacon loosened his tie and shrugged
out of his suit jacket. 

“I’m just going to change and then go to
bed.”  For some reason her stomach was churning with nerves.

“Sure.”  He was pulling off his tie and she
hesitated for a moment.

“Uh, could you unzip me?”

He stared blankly at her and she flushed. 
“I can’t really reach it.”

“Oh, of course.  Sorry,” he said.

She turned her back and waited in the
doorway of the closet.  When his fingers closed around the zipper she twitched
and he paused before pulling it down.  The sound of the zipper seemed very loud,
and her pulse made a jittering, skipping beat when he trailed one rough finger
down the bare skin of her back.

Did he feel it?  Did he feel that totally
cliché jolt of electricity whenever they touched? 

Walk away, Claire.  Walk away right now
before you do something you regret.

Her inner voice was right and she was fully
intending to do just that when his tongue - sweet baby Jesus, his wet, hot
tongue - licked down her spine and every nerve ending in her body lit up like
fireworks.  Her nipples beaded into hard points and she didn’t stop him when he
unclasped her bra.

His mouth, his warm and sinfully delicious
mouth, licked another slow path between her shoulder blades and she moaned
before sagging back against him.  His hands slid into the opening of her dress
and caressed her sides before pushing her bra up and cupping her breasts.  He
tugged on her nipples and she moaned again before turning her face toward his. 
He claimed her mouth immediately, sliding his tongue between her lips and
tasting her with a rough urgency that brought a surge of wetness between her
thighs.

He kneaded her breasts lightly before
circling her nipples with his thumbs.  She arched her back encouragingly as he
sucked on her upper lip.  He pinched and tweaked and rubbed her nipples as they
kissed hotly.  He groaned when she ground her ass against his erection.

“Claire?”  He muttered.

“Yes?”  She moaned when he pulled firmly on
her aching nipples.

“I’m not doing a very good job at
pretending to be your husband, am I?”

He pulled again on her nipples and she made
a harsh cry of need.  “You – you’re doing fine.”

“Do you really think so?”  He licked behind
her ear.  “Because I think knowing exactly how you look and sound when you’re
coming all over my cock would really improve my fake husband skills.  What do
you think?”

He nipped at her neck and she nodded frantically.  “I think
that’s a good idea, Deacon.  A
superb
idea.”

He started to push her dress from her shoulders and couldn’t
stop his groan of frustration when a voice behind them said, “Mama?”

“Hattie!”  Claire crossed her arms over her chest as Deacon
turned away from the little girl.  “Back to your room.  Now.”

“I can’t,” the little girl began to cry.  “I’m scared of the
monsters.”

“Hattie,” Claire said, “there are no monsters under your – “

“There are!”  The little girl began to cry in earnest. 
“Please, mama.”

“I’m sorry,” Claire muttered under her breath to Deacon.

She snagged her nightshirt from the closet and hurried over
to the little girl.  “Okay, honey, okay.  It’s alright.”

“Please let me sleep with you,” Hattie sobbed.  “I’ll be
good, mama, I promise.”

“I know, honey,” Claire picked her up and rubbed her back
gently.  “But Deacon has to work in the morning and it’s too crowded in the bed
for all of us.  I’ll take you back to your bed and sleep with you.”

“But the monsters!”  Hattie wailed.

“Mama’s not afraid of the monsters,” Claire said firmly. 
“And the monsters are afraid of me.  We’ll be fine.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Deacon who was still
standing with his back to them.  “Um, goodnight, Deacon.”

“Goodnight, Claire.”

* * *

Deacon walked silently toward the staircase.  It was early,
even for him, but after spending a sleepless night thinking about Claire, about
her soft skin and the way she moaned at his touch, he had finally given up on
sleep.  It would be a good idea to go to work early, anyway.  The Christmas season
was in full swing and his workload had increased substantially. 

Bullshit.  You’re sneaking out of the house because you
don’t want to see Claire.

He crept down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen. 
Fine, maybe he was.  But he really needed to put some space between them.  What
was happening couldn’t continue.  He didn’t want a wife and he certainly didn’t
want a kid.  In a month Claire and Hattie would be out of his life, and asking
Claire to spend the month letting him fuck her senseless made him a certified
asshole.  He had nothing to offer her beyond the hundred grand, and he might
not know Claire very well but he knew she wasn’t the type to go for casual sex.

He would keep away from them, he decided as he walked into
the kitchen.  Christmas was the company’s busiest season, and it would be the
perfect excuse for working long hours and avoiding both Claire and Hattie.  He
just had to avoid touching her and everything would be fine.

“Good morning, Deacon.”

He staggered back, staring in surprise at Claire.  She was
standing in the kitchen in her robe with a cup of coffee in one hand.  At his
look of surprise, she smiled nervously and her hand touched the base of her
throat briefly before dropping away.

“You’re up early,” he blurted out.

“Yeah.  Hattie was pummelling me with her feet and I decided
sleep was a lost cause.  Why are you up so early?”

“I’ve got a lot of work at the office.  I’d better get
going.”

“Deacon?”  Claire’s soft voice stopped him in his tracks. 
“We should probably talk about yesterday.”

Claire watched as Deacon’s back stiffened and he sighed
harshly.  For a moment she regretted opening her big mouth but hell, they
couldn’t avoid the topic forever.  Better to get it out in the open and try and
relieve some of the weird tension between them.

“Look, before you say anything,” Deacon swung around to face
her, “I need to apologize for my behaviour yesterday.  I should never have did
or said the things I did and I – “

“We both said and did things,” she interrupted.

“Nevertheless, I think it would be best if we return to our
original agreement.”

The cold and distant Mr. Stone was back and she felt a
moment of longing for the Deacon from last night.  That Deacon had made her
feel more –
want
more - from a single touch than Kevin ever had.

He pulled on the cuffs of his shirt.  “The thing is, Claire,
I don’t want to be a husband or a father.  My career is very important to me
and it doesn’t leave a lot of time for a family.”

“You think I want you to be a father to Hattie?”  She asked
softly.

“No, that isn’t what I mean.  I just – for women, sex leads
to certain feelings and I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.  I know
we have a pretty intense physical connection but it would never be anything
more than that.  I’m not interested in a relationship with you.”

He flinched at the look on her face.  “No, wait.  I didn’t
mean it like that.  I don’t want a relationship with
anyone
.  I like my
life just the way it is.”

Claire would have laughed if he hadn’t looked so damn
miserable and uncomfortable.  She wondered how slutty she would sound if she
told him that she was perfectly fine with a month of casual sex.  Pretty damn
slutty, she decided.  And, for some reason, she didn’t want Deacon thinking she
was even if she was aching to have him between her legs.

“I understand, Deacon and I completely agree,” she lied. 
“It’s a big house - Hattie and I will stay out of your way for the month, I
promise.”

She thought she saw disappointment flicker briefly in his
eyes before he nodded.  “Thank you, Claire.”

* * *

Claire closed the door to Hattie’s room and leaned against
the wall of the hallway.  It was Wednesday night and she was feeling restless
and bored.  She had put the little girl to bed nearly two hours ago and
surprisingly, Hattie was still in her own room.  Last night she had found
Hattie in Deacon’s bed when she had gone upstairs.  She had carried Hattie to
her own bed and, admitting defeat, had crawled into the bed with her.

She glanced at her watch.  It was close to ten and despite
her broken sleep for the last two nights, she was wide awake.  She walked to
Deacon’s bedroom and hesitated at the door to the closet.  Deacon hadn’t come
home until after midnight last night, she had still been awake and had heard
him walking past Hattie’s bedroom, and he was gone in the morning before she
and Hattie had woken.  She suspected he was working long hours the last two
days to avoid her and Hattie and she pushed her twinge of guilt aside. 

He had asked her to be his fake wife, knowing full well that
she and Hattie were a package deal.  It wasn’t her fault he didn’t like
children.  She wandered into the bathroom and eyed the tub.  She would have a
hot bath.  Deacon wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours and maybe the bath
would help relax her. 

She was bored and restless because she had nothing to do,
she told herself.  She had cleaned other people’s houses every day for the last
six years, and to suddenly go to having nothing more to do than taking Hattie
back and forth to school was a jarring adjustment.  Maybe tomorrow she would
borrow Deacon’s iPad and look up some information on business courses at the
local college.  Figure out what she wanted to finally do with her life now that
she didn’t have to struggle to make ends meet every single day.

Feeling better about her decision, she started the water in
the tub and grabbed her nightgown from the closet before stripping out of her
clothes.  She sank into the hot water with a groan and didn’t shut the water
off until the tub was almost overflowing.

“This is the life, Claire,” she murmured to herself as she
sank down until only her head was sticking out above the water.

She closed her eyes and tried to make her mind go blank. 
Instead, images of Deacon’s warm hands cupping her breasts flooded through her
and she scowled.

Stop it, Claire.  Don’t think about Deacon Stone and his
delightfully hard body or thick cock.  There’s no point.

There really wasn’t but it didn’t stop the flood of images
coursing through her head.  God, the sound of his voice when he had pleaded for
her not to stop touching him.  It made her wet just thinking about it.