Read Online Miss Kane's Christmas by Caroline Mickelson - Free Book Online Page A

it did little to relieve the ache there. “He’s a good man.”
    “You’ll talk to Daddy? About Christmas?”
    Carol didn’t hesitate to reassure her. “Yes, Hillary. I’ll do it right now.”
    * * *
    Ben’s arm ached, his head buzzed from a combination of too many sappy movies and two much sugar laden ice cream, and his jaw clenched every time he thought of the children’s excitement about the idea of a puppy. A puppy? Was there no end to the commotion that Carol caused in his house? In his mind? In his heart?
    He groaned and leaned his head back against the sofa cushions. He draped his good arm across his forehead. Maybe if he shut his eyes and counted to ten he’d wake up to find the whole thing had been merely a dream. He closed his eyes and counted slowly before opening them again. No. His living room still looked like a close-out sale at a Christmas in July store. All that was missing from the chaos was a puppy. A shoe chewing, un-house broken, hyperactive ball of fur. He closed his eyes again.
    “What the hell was Santa thinking?” he muttered aloud.
    “So you admit he does exist? That’s progress.”
    Ben started to stand but Carol sat down on the sofa next to him before he could get up. He glanced over, knowing he should avoid eye contact. Hell, any kind of contact. But he couldn’t resist. She was beautiful. And charming. And warm hearted. And intelligent. But most of all, she was trouble.
    “The children are asleep,” she told him. “Now we need to get down to business.”
    He shifted so that he was facing her. “If this is about the puppy, it’s going to be a short conversation.”
    Her eyes flashed. A sure sign she was getting ready for battle, he thought. If he were smart he’d put a stop to this right now. He opened his mouth but she cut him off.
    “Your daughter is afraid you’re going to ruin Christmas.” Carol raised an eyebrow expectantly and waited for him to speak.
    His heart felt like it dropped twelve stories. “She said that?”
    Carol nodded.
    Ben couldn’t remember a time where he’d felt so miserable. He loved his children. Heaven knew he was floundering trying to parent them alone, but he loved them. And he was screwing up big time if they didn’t trust him not to ruin the holiday.
    “After all you’ve been through these last few years I don’t entirely blame you-”
    “Blame me?” he interrupted her. “Me? You’re the one who has turned Christmas into a nightmare.”
    He watched as her eyes widened. He decided to take full advantage of her very uncharacteristic speechlessness. “Before you came here we were fine,” he continued. “The children had low, and I might add, realistic expectations of the holiday.” He held up a finger to forestall the torrent of Christmas rhetoric that she looked about to let loose. “So if anyone around here is in danger of ruining anything, it’s you.”
    Ben waited for an explosion. But none came. Instead, Carol sat looking at him, her anger replaced with a look of…what was it? Frustration? Not exactly. Pity? God, he hoped not. Sadness? Whatever it was, she didn’t look happy and it was his fault.
    He reached out. She moved back, not taking her eyes from his.
    “Carol,” he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, “you have to understand where I’m coming from.”
    “I do.” Her voice was quiet, steady. “I think I understand perfectly well.”
    He frowned. “You do?”
    She nodded. “I understand that you’re afraid to be happy. You’re afraid to let your children be happy in some misguided attempt to keep them from being hurt. And you’re taking it even further, writing your stupid book so that other parents will think they’re parenting responsibly by withholding joy from their children.” She shook her head. “All because you don’t want to get hurt again.”
    He wanted to turn away from her. He needed to turn away from her if he was going to keep any shred of dignity or self-respect but he