What the f**k? When had that happened? Why hadn’t Sierra told him?
“What’s Sierra saying?” Ellen demanded. “Has she changed her mind? Tell her we’ll have a wonderful time together.”
Ellen spoke so loudly Sierra had heard every word.
This back and forth bullshit hurt his ears and his head. Nothing would be resolved today anyway. “Look, Ellen, let me talk it over with Sierra and we’ll figure something out. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, all right?”
A long pause. “All right. She’s my daughter too, Gavin. And don’t think for a second I don’t miss her, because I do.” She hung up.
Fuck. He wished he could just be pissed off at Ellen for being unreasonable, but she had a point. This was the longest she’d been away from Sierra. Granted, it’d been Ellen’s choice, but he felt he should at least try to find a way for them to spend time together.
He handed Sierra’s phone back.
“Please, Dad, don’t make me go.”
“Sierra, sweetheart—”
“I can’t believe you’re even considering this!”
I can’t either.
“You won’t let me drive into Sundance by myself but you’d send me halfway across the world by myself? That makes no sense.”
“She’s your mother. She has a right to see you.” Gavin glanced up to see that I’ll argue this to death stubborn set to his daughter’s chin so he tried a different approach. “She misses you. And I know you miss her too. So think about that before you say or do something rash.”
Sierra made an exasperated sound and stormed out.
He turned to the window and opened the shade. The sunshine reflecting off the snow made everything blindingly white. From this distance the pristine view looked like an old-fashioned scene from a vintage postcard.
Maybe it was silly and sentimental, but he’d been looking forward to their first Christmas in Wyoming. The snow covered pine trees and the chilly air made everything more festive. Add in all the upcoming McKay family parties and for once he wasn’t dreading the holidays.
Sierra had spent the last five Christmases with Ellen, leaving him to face the day alone. After his mother died the pity invites for Christmas dinner tended to piss him off—to the point he morphed into Scrooge the week before to stave off said invites.
He’d never been that big on holidays anyway, not even when his parents were alive, save for the few times he had Sierra all to himself on Christmas morning. Seeing her eyes light up when she saw her gift from Santa and the piles of presents from him. The two of them lazing around all morning in their pajamas, playing with her new toys and eating Christmas candy for breakfast.
Eventually they’d get ready for Christmas dinner at his parents’ house. Sierra dolled up in a fancy holiday dress—the more taffeta, lace and velvet the better, with matching shoes and hair ribbons.
Gavin remembered combing the tangles from her snarled hair and her explicit instructions on where to place the barrettes, headband or ponytail holder. Her instructions had amused him, because he’d been putting her hair in a ponytail or pigtails since she’d turned two.
Now she was sixteen. Sometimes he wondered how that’d happened so fast, her change from a sleepy-eyed toddler dragging her favorite Tigger blanket, to the eye-rolling teen with her hand out for the car keys.
Arms snaked around his waist. Body heat and his lover’s sweet honeysuckle scent surrounded him. Rielle placed a kiss between his shoulder blades.
“You okay?” she asked. “I heard Sierra’s door slam.”
“Yeah. Just lost in thought.”
“I know. I called your name but you didn’t answer.”
He turned around and held her face in his hands, kissing her deeply. When he eased back, she wore the secret smile that was an instant aphrodisiac. He seriously considered sweeping everything off his desk and taking her right there.
“I recognize that look in your eye, tycoon. But I’m afraid I’ll have to take a raincheck, since there are four loaves of cranberry orange hazelnut bread and eggnog spiced pumpkin bread baking in the oven that will require my attention shortly.”
“Mmm. Hot bread sounds almost as good as hot sex.” He kissed her again, with a little more zeal, letting his hands wander to fondle her br**sts. When Rielle emitted that sexy squeak, he grinned at her. “Sorry. Just a self-reminder that nothing compares to sex with you.”
“You are tempting me to just let the damn bread burn.”
He had a brilliant idea. “Ree. What are you doing for Christmas?”
Her eyes narrowed at the abrupt subject change. “Same thing we do every year. Put up a tree, bake and eat until my jeans are too tight and hang out by the fireplace with Rory, chugging hot chocolate or wine…depending on the day. Why?”
“How would you like to go to Paris with me for Christmas?”
Rielle’s jaw dropped. “What? Paris? As in Paris, France?”
“I sure wasn’t talking about dragging you to Paris, Texas,” he said dryly.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Doesn’t that sound romantic? You and me strolling along the Seine? Kissing on the Eiffel Tower? Checking out the handmade goods at the markets? Sipping wine by candlelight in a cozy café? Rolling around in a big bed in our hotel suite?”
A couple long seconds passed before she said, “Gavin. I’m…stunned.”
“Good. Then say yes. We’ll spend two weeks together, just the two of us. You’ll be pampered like you deserve. You won’t have to lift a finger or do anything but relax.” He kissed her again. “You work too damn hard, honey. Let’s take a break.”
Rielle stepped back. “I can’t afford a trip like that.”
He tried to curb his offense, but his words came out clipped. “I don’t expect you to pay your way. I was inviting you as my guest.”
“As your guest?” The look in her eyes and her tone made the word guest sound like whore. “Then definitely not.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” She threw up her hands. “Who suggests a Christmas vacation in Paris? Who can just set aside two weeks and go play tourist? Maybe you can, but I sure as hell can’t. I have responsibilities—”
“Here we go. You act like you’re the only one in the world with a job, Ree. Like the entire state of Wyoming will fall into ruin if you’re not around to do your part.”