The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [53]
“I hate this confusion,” he muttered. “I’m good at helping my clients sort through their feelings, good at writing about them—but not good at experiencing them. It makes me…miserable.”
“I’ve been pretty miserable myself,” Cassie said.
“Then we should both find ways of dealing with these emotions because I’m not changing my mind.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I mean it, Cassie.”
She wasn’t going to argue. “Yes, I know.”
He stared at her, eyebrows raised. “Don’t be so agreeable. I’m not used to it, and I don’t know how to react when you’re amenable to everything I say.” She nodded.
“See? That’s what I mean.” He pointed accusingly at her. “Listen. I know what kind of man makes a good husband—and I’m not it.”
Cassie had to smile. “That’s something I don’t agree with. You’ve shown me truths about myself. Let me do the same for you.”
Simon shook his head as if that possibility was beyond him.
Cassie wasn’t about to let him assume he was incapable of love when she knew otherwise.
She stood and walked purposefully toward him. He was still pacing, so she caught his hand. Her fingers curled around his and he turned back to stare at her. Not giving him a chance to object, she leaned forward and placed her mouth on his.
Simon slipped one hand around the back of her head and kissed her with a hunger that thrilled her.
“We’ll start with teaching you to accept my love,” she whispered when he broke off the lengthy kiss.
Again he briefly closed his eyes.
“Love is one thing,” he muttered. “But you want children. I don’t know about children except in theory. I’m not good with them,” he said. “They cry and make messes in their diapers and drool.”
“That they do.”
“I don’t understand why people willingly submit themselves to the uncertainty and stress of raising children.” He splayed his fingers through his hair.
Even as he spoke she heard the longing in his voice. Despite his claims to the contrary he desired a family, just like most people did. Just like she did. Unable to resist a moment longer, she slid her arms around his waist and hugged him close. He resisted at first and attempted to break free.
Cassie held tight. Smiling up at him, she stood on the tips of her toes, rested her hands on his shoulders and pressed her mouth to his. It was only a matter of seconds before he became fully involved in the kiss.
When her legs were about to give way, Simon tore his mouth from hers and stepped back, still holding on to her, which was a good thing. Otherwise Cassie would have collapsed in a heap on the floor.
He wagged a warning finger at her. “No more of that.”
“Sorry.” She felt she should probably apologize but giggled instead. “I couldn’t help myself. Oh, Simon, you’re right. I do want children—your children. We’ll have very special babies.”
His expression was wry. “They won’t cry and make messes and—”
“Of course they will,” she said, nudging him.
“Like I already said, I have no skills in this area.”
“But I don’t, either. We’ll learn together, the way other parents do.”
She wasn’t sure if she’d convinced him or not because he continued to stare at her.
Then, as if he’d noticed the Christmas decorations for the first time, he frowned and said, “When you came to me, you talked about a perfect Christmas.”
She nodded.
“I’m not big on Christmas.”
“I think that’s kind of a weak argument,” she told him. “Seeing how every assignment you gave me had to do with the holidays.”
“Only because there’s a surfeit of them at this time of year.”
“True, but there are plenty of others and you chose the Christmas-related tasks.”
“You’ve found some hidden meaning in that?”
“Yes. It’s obvious to me that you enjoy the holidays.”
When he started to protest, she held up a hand.
“Let me amend that. You enjoy watching other people enjoy Christmas.