BABY & THE BEAST Read online

  It was fun and truly lovely, but Isabella's mind was elsewhere. Thank goodness her friends had steered clear of discussions about Michael Wulf. She appreciated them for that and so did her heart.

  "I'll make some more popcorn," Isabella announced, coming to her feet.

  But before she could get halfway to the kitchen, there was a knock at the door.

  "Did you invite some boys, Isabella?" Connie asked with a grin.

  Wendy clasped her hands together. "Ooh, I heard Ronnie Mills has a crush on you. And he just got his braces off."

  Isabella grinned at the schoolgirl sound of that as she walked to the door.

  "Maybe it's a stripper," April offered, and they all laughed.

  But it was no stripper.

  Looking incredibly handsome in a black sweater, gray pants and his long black coat, Michael Wulf leaned against the door and smiled. "Hi, Bella."

  The room behind her fell dead silent, but Isabella could hear her heart battering against her chest. It seemed as though she hadn't seen him in years, not weeks. Her longing for him surged to the surface like a fisherman's bobber.

  "You're home," she said inanely, her cheeks growing instantly warm. "I mean, you're back from California."

  His gaze roamed over her, drinking her in, unnerving her jumbled nerves. "I couldn't stay away. Not from Fielding or—"

  "Your glass house?" The bitter tone was uncontrolled. Why did he have to come here and torture her?

  "Can I come in?"

  It took every ounce of self-control she had to say, "I have friends over. Maybe some other time—"

  Ignoring her protest, he stepped past her into the apartment. "This can't wait." He nodded at her friends. "Hello, ladies."

  They all mumbled hellos, then turned their gazes back to what they were doing.

  "I'm sorry to interrupt the evening," he said, "but I have something to tell Bella that just can't wait."

  Connie stood up. "We should probably go—"

  "No. You all—" he looked pointedly at Molly and she blushed "—need to hear this."

  Isabella found her voice. "Michael, what's going on?"

  He turned to face her again, his gray eyes softer than she'd ever seen them. "I had a conversation with your father today."

  Her heart lurched. "You went to the cemetery?"

  He nodded.

  "Why?"

  "I needed to tell him something." He reached for her hand, lifted it to his mouth and kissed it softly. "I love you, Bella."

  Eyes wide, she just stared at him. "You what?"

  "He said he loves you," April said. Connie quickly shushed her.

  Isabella hardly heard her friends. Her mind was reeling, her heart pounding. "But you told me—"

  "I know what I told you. I was a fool. I thought that I was doing you a favor by getting out of your life. I thought that your being involved with the Wulf could only hurt you and Emily." He released her, brought his hands up and cupped her face. "But I changed the day I opened that car door and found you. You changed me from an impenetrable creature who didn't want to leave his cave to a man who wants a life, wants to be known and wants to be loved."

  Connie sighed, Molly's eyes filled with tears, and Wendy whispered, "If she doesn't kiss him right now, I will!"

  April snorted. "Get in line."

  "Goodnight, girls," Isabella said.

  After her friends wished them both a Merry Christmas and made a quick exit, Isabella faced the man who made her see stars and spoke what was in her heart. "I love you, too, Michael. I've loved you … Lord, it seems like a lifetime. But I'm afraid to believe this."

  "I know what it's like to be afraid, sweetheart," he said gently. "I spent most of my life that way, and I don't recommend it." A grin played about his lips. "You taught me how to love, Bella. And I won't let you go."

  "You won't?"

  "No. I'm no good without you."

  Her heart squeezed painfully. "Are you sure?"

  He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Positive."

  "Oh, Michael." Isabella looked up into his eyes and saw his soul, no mask, no wall—just a man in love—and she knew he was finally hers.

  Grinning Michael pulled a sprig of mistletoe out of his pocket and held it between them. "Have I told you how much I love the holidays?" he asked as he lifted the mistletoe above their heads with one hand and pulled her closer with the other. He kissed her softly, then drew back, just far enough so she could feel his warm breath when he said, "You forgive me for being such an idiot?"

  Tears welled up in her eyes and she could only nod.

  "Then how about marrying me?"

  Big fat tears that were directly attached to her heartstrings dropped onto her cheeks. "Say that again."

  He grinned. "Marry me, Isabella Spencer?"

  She smiled back. "In a heartbeat, Michael Wulf."

  Lowering his head, he gave her a series of slow, tender kisses. "Come on. Let's go look in on our daughter."

  For a moment she just stared at him, drinking in the man that he had finally allowed himself to liberate. He wanted them. He wanted a life with them. "Our daughter?"

  "Oh, sweetheart, that little girl has been mine from the moment I first held her. And I can't wait to make it official, if you'll let me."

  All of Isabella's dreams from so many Christmases past were coming true that Christmas Eve night. "Santa sure has come through this year."

  Michael brushed his lips over hers, whispering, "Ho, ho, ho," before gently releasing her. "Let's go give our child a good-night kiss. We have a tree to decorate, stockings to hang and presents to wrap." He smiled and eased an arm around her. "My first traditions with the two people I love most in the world. What could be better?"

  Smiling contentedly, Isabella let her head fall against his shoulder. "Nothing, Michael. Absolutely nothing."

  * * *

  Epilogue

  « ^

  Four years later…

  Cotton-candy snow fell from the darkening sky onto the sidewalks, street lamps and jutting shop signs of Fielding. Anyone just passing through might have a great chuckle over the name on one of those signs, because it looked strangely like "The Wulf Fam Bakery" under that random coating of white. But to all who lived there, to all who had named it, they knew better. And every time they passed or entered the Wulf Family Bakery, they remembered the little miracle they'd witnessed all those years ago. When a lonely man had finally found his way home.

  Just above the sign, behind a window on the second floor, was a beautiful blue spruce. It's keepers were tending to it as though it were a member of the family, hanging lights, placing ornaments, flinging wisps of tinsel at its boughs.

  And inside that home, under that tree, where so much warmth resided, sat Emily Wulf tearing open a present with the enthusiasm of a defensive lineman. After squealing with delight at the fuzzy-bear ornament she'd eyed at the Crafty Corner the other day, the little girl looked up at her father.

  "Where should I put it, Daddy?"

  Michael smiled down at his daughter, his heart. "Anywhere you like, princess."

  And she truly was that, he thought. Emily was smart and kind and incredibly beautiful. She was her mother and yet … in some ways, she was him, too. Her stubbornness, her capacity for love.

  "How 'bout by Annie's ornmant?" Emily said in her toddler speech.

  Just at that moment, Bella walked into the room carrying their three-month-old baby girl. "I think putting it beside your sister's ornament is a wonderful idea, Ems."

  Michael's heart tumbled at the sight of his wife.

  Blue eyes shimmering, long blond hair loose and wispy around her face, Bella smiled first at Emily, then at him. She'd changed from her afternoon party clothes into that old blue robe he'd given her when she'd first come to stay with him. But what really took his breath away was the sight of her holding his child.

  Emily tugged at his hand. "Up, Daddy."

  With a chuckle Michael lifted her high i
n the air so she could place her ornament on the bough next to Annie's turtle figurine. This was Christmas Eve at Bella's old apartment—or what they now affectionately called their town house—and it was filled with traditions old and new. It was filled with warmth and love that soothed more than a wounded leg. And it was filled with something Michael Wulf had never expected to deserve: family.

  After giving the tree a once-over, Bella deemed it perfection, then settled on the couch with Annie. Michael joined them, tugging Emily onto his lap.

  "Can I say it, Daddy?" Emily asked.

  Bella laughed and Michael just smiled. His eldest daughter was a lot like him. "All right."

  Emily took a deep breath and shouted, "Light tree!"

  In a blink, the blue spruce sparkled with white twinkling lights, and everyone who could talk oohed and aahed, just as they did every year.

  Emily snuggled into the crook of his arm and said softly, "Tell the story."

  Bella smiled at him, and he mouthed, "I love you."

  This—this night of magic and decorating and dreams and Santa—was beyond wonderful. But the story Emily had asked to hear was a tradition that Michael himself had started.

  The room was still and scented with pine. Michael cuddled Emily close and began. "The night that Emily Wulf came into the world, it snowed and snowed…"

  * * * *