a girl he was dating.
“I love her and she loves me,” Zac said in a matter-of-fact tone. “We have a baby. His name is Henry. He’s two months old.”
“Henry was the child you were thinking of leaving when we last talked.” Meg immediately regretted the comment. A wise woman knew to always gather her thoughts before blurting out something she might—make that, did—regret.
“I don’t know where you got that idea. I’d never leave my son.” An edge of steel ran through Zac’s tone. “Never.”
This time Meg took a second to consider her response.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” she said in a soothing tone, ignoring Cole’s curious glance. “You and Lissa must be serious if you have a baby and are spending Christmas with her family.”
For everyone’s sake, she hoped it was serious. Though Meg was a thoroughly modern woman, she still believed little Henry would do best with both his mother and his father in his life.
“Lissa is an only child,” Zac informed her. “She couldn’t bear the thought of us not seeing her mom and dad at Christmas.”
“Her being close to her parents is a good thing,” Meg said slowly, gingerly finding her way. Those years of raising teenagers had schooled her in the dangers of making suppositions.
“It might be if they thought I was the right man for her,” he said in a flat tone. “But they don’t.”
Meg fought against a motherly surge of indignation. Any family would be lucky to have her brother in it.
“Then they must not know you well enough,” Meg said in a conciliatory tone, sincerely hoping that was their only reservation. “Because if they did know you, they’d love you like I do.”
“Love.” Zac gave a little laugh. “Right now I’d settle for like.”
“Zac,” Margaret began but stopped when she heard her brother talking to someone in the background.
“Margaret,” he said after a couple of seconds, “I need to run. Have yourself a Merry Christmas with your new family. You deserve a little happiness of your own.”
“Wait, Zac, don’t go. When are you going to call again?” Meg asked quickly before he could hang up. “I’d love to figure out a time when I can see you, meet Lissa and hold my new nephew.”
“Soon,” Zac said, then the line went dead.
Meg held the phone for several seconds before clicking off, trying to assimilate what she’d just heard.
“Everything okay?” Cole asked.
“My brother has a girlfriend and a baby, a little boy.” Meg still found herself unable to wrap her mind around the thought that Zac was a father. “The baby’s name is Henry, same as our dad.”
Her lips curved upward. For a man who seemed to prefer the less traditional route in life, Zac naming his firstborn after their father spoke volumes.
“Does Travis know?”
“I have no idea who Zac has told.” Meg rubbed a hand across her face. She didn’t want to talk about her brother. Not now anyway. She tilted her head. “What were we talking about before he called?”
“How much I enjoy being with you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“How beautiful you are.” Cole leaned forward, catching up pieces of her hair, rubbing the shiny auburn strands between his thumb and forefinger. “How incredibly sexy…”
Meg’s breath caught in her throat and her heart fluttered. This man definitely knew how to change a subject.
“There wasn’t one woman at that party as gorgeous as you,” he said in a deep husky voice.
Staring into the liquid blue of his eyes Meg almost believed him. Despite knowing that she could be over her head in seconds, there was something that drew her to him, that tempted her to take a step off the firm shore of what she’d always known and take a chance.
Before she knew what was happening, his mouth brushed hers, as soft as butterfly wings and just as gentle. Her lips were still tingling when he sat back. But if he thought he could get by with a drive-by kiss, he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did.
Meg scooted close and wound her arms around his neck. “Lexi’s house had mistletoe everywhere. When we were leaving I found myself thinking that it was a shame.” She pulled her lips together to form a pout. “No kisses for Meg beneath the mistletoe this year.”
Perhaps she should have stopped there. But she was having too much fun. She placed the back of her hand against her forehead and heaved a melodramatic sigh. “Poor, poor Meg.”
She expected Cole to laugh. To her surprise, his expression turned solemn. “Are