She wasn’t sure if he was stating a fact or asking permission, but before she could respond, he’d lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.
She might have caught him off guard when she’d pressed her lips to his outside of the community center, but it hadn’t taken him long to respond, to take control of the kiss. This time, he was in control right from the beginning—she didn’t have a chance to think about what he was doing or brace herself against the wave of emotions that washed over her.
For a man who claimed he didn’t do a lot of dating, he sure knew how to kiss. His mouth was warm and firm as it moved over hers, masterfully persuasive and seductive. Never before had she been kissed with such patient thoroughness. His hands were big and strong, but infinitely gentle as they slid up her back, burning her skin through the silky fabric of her blouse as he urged her closer. Her breasts were crushed against the solid wall of his chest, and her nipples immediately responded to the contact, tightening into rigid peaks.
She wanted him to touch her—she wanted those callused hands on her bare skin, and the fierceness of the want was shocking. Equally strong was the desire to touch him—to let her hands roam over his rock-hard body, exploring and savoring every inch of him. He was so completely and undeniably male, and he made everything that was female inside of her quiver with excitement.
Eventually, reluctantly, he eased his mouth from hers. But he kept his arms around her, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. “I should probably be on my way before the sheriff gets home.”
“He won’t be home tonight,” she admitted. “He and Lissa went to Bozeman for the weekend.”
He frowned at that. “You’re going to be alone here tonight?”
She held his gaze steadily. “I hope not.”
He closed the door and turned the lock.
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781460341872
A Weaver Christmas Gift
Copyright © 2014 by Allison Lee Johnson
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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www.Harlequin.com
A HOLIDAY TO REMEMBER…
Only an urgent mission could bring Sergeant Joe Wilcox back to his Texas town—and the past he’s been trying to forget. The marine gets his wish when an accident robs him of his memory. The beautiful blonde who offers to nurse him back to health on a ranch that’s hauntingly familiar is a bonus he didn’t expect…except Chloe Dawson is strictly off-limits.
The letter the wounded G.I. “Doe” is carrying—addressed to Chloe—only deepens the mystery of who he is and why he came to Brighton Valley. With desire sizzling between them, Chloe’s in danger of falling for the sexy soldier. But what happens when his memory returns? Can she help him face his past and, together, find their future—a place where they can both belong?
“I love Christmas,” Chloe said, drawing his thoughts back to reality.
“All we’re missing is a little mistletoe to hang over the doorway.”
She flushed, and he was tempted to draw her to him anyway, to kiss her senseless. In fact, as she lifted her eyes to his, as their gazes locked, desire flared.
He had no business following through on it, though. He didn’t even know where he’d been, let alone where he was going. But if she didn’t stop looking at him like that…
Oh, what the hell.
“Something tells me I’ve never needed any prompts.” Then he stepped forward, placed his hands on her cheeks. He waited a moment, taking the time to study her eyes, her expression, checking for any sign of protest.
Instead, her chin lifted and her lips parted.
That was all the invitation he needed.
* * *
RETURN TO BRIGHTON VALLEY:
Who says you can’t go home again?
Dear Reader,
I hope you’re enjoying the Return to Brighton Valley series as much as I enjoyed writing it. Each story shares a common thread—one character left home broken, hurt or angry, then returned years later to find true love and the families they’d always dreamed of having.
This story is no different. At sixteen, Joey Martinez ran away from his foster home with a chip on his shoulder, hoping to leave behind everyone who’d ever hurt him. And he did a great job of doing just that, going so far as to change his name! But when he’s forced to return, an accident leaves him with amnesia—and wishing he could remember everything he’d once done his very best to forget.
Enter lovely Chloe Dawson, who’s struggling to hold a ranch afloat for a family friend. She takes in the handsome soldier with amnesia and dubs him G.I. Doe. Attraction sparks, but life soon becomes complicated as old memories and pain resurface. Does love really conquer all?
If you’re like me and you enjoy amnesia stories, ranch settings, holiday reunions, military heroes and romance, you’re going to love The Soldier’s Holiday Homecoming. So kick off your shoes, pour a cup of tea or hot apple cider and curl up in your favorite reading spot.
Wishing you and yours all the very best of the Christmas season,
Judy
P.S. If you didn’t read the other stories in the series, you might want to check out The Daddy Secret (March 2014) and The Bachelor’s Brighton Valley Bride (July 2014). You’ll also find other Brighton Valley books listed on my website at www.judyduarte.com.
THE SOLDIER’S HOLIDAY HOMECOMING
Judy Duarte
Books by Judy Duarte
Harlequin Special Edition
¶A Baby Under the Tree #2158
ΩMendoza’s Miracle #2173
¶The Rancher’s Hired Fiancée #2193
¶The Cowboy’s Family Plan #2212
°Tammy and the Doctor #2249
¤¤Marry Me, Mendoza! #2253
¶¶The Daddy Secret #2318
₤ A House Full of Fortunes! #2323
¶¶The Bachelor’s Brighton Valley Bride #2343
¶¶The Soldier’s Holiday Homecoming #2367
Silhouette Special Edition
*Hailey’s Hero #1659
*Their Secret Son #1667
∆Their Unexpected Family #1676
*Worth Fighting For #1684
*The Matchmakers’ Daddy #1689
His Mother’s Wedding #1731
Call Me Cowboy #1743
**The Perfect Wife #1773
Rock-A-Bye Rancher #1784
Daddy on Call #1822
The Cowboy’s Lullaby #1834
~Romancing the Cowboy #1888
§Once Upon a Pregnancy #1891
~In Love with the Bronc Rider #1907
~Her Best Christmas Eve
r #1943
+A Real Live Cowboy #1964
§§Race to the Altar #1989
¤And Babies Make Five #2042
§§His, Hers and…Theirs? #2061
§§Under the Mistletoe with John Doe #2080
+Healing Dr. Fortune #2096
Silhouette Books
Double Destiny
“Second Chance”
*Bayside Bachelors
∆Montana Mavericks: Gold Rush Grooms
**Talk of the Neighborhood
~The Texas Homecoming
§The Wilder Family
+Fortunes of Texas: Return to Red Rock
¤The Baby Chase
§§Brighton Valley Medical Center
+The Fortunes of Texas: Lost…and Found
ΩThe Fortunes of Texas: Whirlwind Romance
°Byrds of a Feather
¶Brighton Valley Babies
¤¤The Fortunes of Texas: Southern Invasion
¶¶Return to Brighton Valley
₤The Fortunes of Texas: Welcome to Horseback Hollow!
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
JUDY DUARTE
always knew there was a book inside her, but since English was her least favorite subject in school, she never considered herself a writer. An avid reader who enjoys a happy ending, Judy couldn’t shake the dream of creating a book of her own.
Her dream became a reality in March 2002, when Silhouette Special Edition released her first book, Cowboy Courage. Since then she has published more than twenty novels. Her stories have touched the hearts of readers around the world. And in July 2005 Judy won a prestigious Readers’ Choice Award for The Rich Man’s Son.
Judy makes her home near the beach in Southern California. When she’s not cooped up in her writing cave, she’s spending time with her somewhat enormous but delightfully close family.
In memory of Lydia Bustos, who was called home
sooner than any of us expected.
I’m rejoicing for you, Tia—but missing you,
especially during the holidays.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Excerpt
Chapter One
Brighton Valley, Texas, was the last place in the world Joe Wilcox had ever expected to step foot in again.
Well, not when it came to the good ol’ U.S.A. He sure as hell wouldn’t look forward to another deployment to Afghanistan. But he’d made a promise to deliver a letter for a friend, and if there was one thing that could be said about Joe—he always kept his word.
So he’d packed a few belongings, rented a car just outside of Camp Pendleton and left California. He’d stopped in El Paso long enough to spend the night with Red Conway, a retired marine he’d met on a bus ten years ago. Red had taken Joe in when he’d been a down-and-out teenage runaway, hell-bent on leaving everyone and everything he’d once known behind.
The two men had shared a couple of beers, a pizza and a few stories. The next day, Joe had continued on for another nine hundred miles, finally arriving in Brighton Valley exhausted and hungry.
The first thing Joe did after checking in to a cheap but clean room at the Night Owl, a motor lodge that catered to travelers who were low on funds and just passing through, was to shove his duffle bags under the bed. There was a closet he could have used, but that had never felt like a safe place when he’d been a kid determined to protect his valuables from an uncle who might not have enough cash to buy a pack of cigarettes and a pint of Jack Daniels.
He probably should have shaken the habit years ago, but being back in town brought back all kinds of weird memories, leaving him a bit unbalanced.
Next he took a long, hot shower, slipped into a comfortable pair of worn jeans and a black sweatshirt and hoofed it across the highway to the Stagecoach Inn.
In spite of the seasonal chill in the air, a cold beer would really hit the spot right about now, but he wasn’t looking for a drink or any entertainment. He was on a mission. He had a letter to deliver to a blonde cocktail waitress named Chloe Dawson.
Once he found the coldhearted woman who’d broken Dave Cummings’s heart, he’d give her the letter Dave had asked him to deliver.
Now, as he stood on the side of the busy highway, waiting for a lull in the traffic so he could cross, he pulled out Chloe’s photograph, the one Dave had always carried. He studied the photo in the flickering streetlight overhead. The snapshot was a little grainy, so her facial features weren’t especially clear, but it was easy to see that the platinum blonde had long, wavy hair and a dynamite shape.
To be honest, when he and Dave had been stationed in Afghanistan, all Dave could talk about was the woman he’d placed on a pedestal and the dreams he’d had for them. Joe had been a little envious. He’d never had a family—well, not one he’d wanted to claim—so he’d never dared to consider a white-picket-fence dream. But his buddy had grown up as an only child, adored by his parents. So why wouldn’t he expect to have that same life for himself?
Joe had to admit that he’d wondered what such an attractive woman had seen in Dave. Not that his friend wasn’t a good person. He was kind and generous to a fault, but he’d been so sheltered by his doting parents that he tended to be naive about life and other things.
Dave had been more sensitive than guys like Joe, who’d learned early on to get tough in order to survive, and as a result, he’d been hit hard by his father’s unexpected death. Then, when his mom had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer nine months later, he’d been devastated.
Obviously Chloe had seen how broken up and vulnerable Dave had been and used it against him when she’d set her gold-digging plan in motion.
From what Joe had gathered, she’d rented a room from Dave’s widowed mother, and when Dave had gone home on leave last summer, he’d fallen hard for her. And, sadly, he’d been too caught up in grief and lust and starry-eyed wonder to see the writing on the wall.
After Mrs. Cummings’s funeral, Chloe had promised to take care of the ranch and to wait for him until he returned from war. Dave, of course, had bought her line of bull and had promised her the moon.
The dream that they’d get married as soon as he got back from deployment and eventually raise “a passel of kids” on the family ranch had been the only thing that kept him going.
Dave might have joined the Marines, hoping to man up and become independent, but he hadn’t been cut out for a life of combat, especially when his idea of happy ever after was in Texas.
Not that life in a war zone had been a cakewalk for Joe, either, but growing up with an abusive drunk uncle and then ending up in the foster care system had made him both street-smart and strong. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but in a lot of ways his crappy childhood had been a blessing.
Either way, Dave’s defense mechanism for dealing with his depression and fears had been to cling to his future with Chloe. It was all he’d talked about, all he’d looked forward to. But apparently Chloe had envisioned an entirely different future, one without Dave. And it looked like fate had granted her that wish.
As the last headlights of the oncoming traffic passed, Joe crossed the street, his boots crunching on the graveled parking lot as he made his way to the entrance of the Stagecoach Inn, where blinking Christmas lights adorned the front window.
He could have gone out to the ranch looking for Chloe, but from w
hat Dave had told him, she worked at the honky-tonk to pick up extra money. And Dave had spent many nights in the war-ravaged deserts of Afghanistan, worrying that some rowdy cowboy might pick up his girl while she was there.
Was that what had happened? Had Chloe found someone better looking? Someone with more money and a bigger ranch?
Joe supposed it really didn’t matter why she’d broken Dave’s heart, just that she’d done it—callously and without any thought of how lonely and despondent the poor guy had been.
When her Dear John arrived, Dave’s depression spiraled downward. And in his grief, he’d taken off after a group of combatants on his own, a reckless act that bordered on suicide and nearly got him killed.
Joe had run to his defense and gotten shot, too, which resulted in two career-ending injuries. All because of that damn cocktail waitress. Couldn’t she have waited until Dave had gone home to break up with him? Her abandonment in his time of need had led to him having a death wish, which eventually came true.
As Joe neared the entrance of the rowdy honky-tonk, the country music as well as the hoots of laughter grew louder. He pulled open the door, then paused in the doorway, allowing his senses to adjust to the smell of booze and smoke, to the blaring jukebox and the chatter of people milling about.
He was looking for a woman—a sexy blonde who’d be taking orders and serving drinks. From Dave’s description, Chloe was twenty-two years old, about five foot four and a knockout. The photograph wasn’t going to be all that helpful, although Joe didn’t have any reason to dispute Dave’s claim. Either way, in a small place like this she shouldn’t be too hard to find.
Joe made his way across the scarred wood floor to the bar, which stretched across the far wall. While the bartender filled a glass of beer for a cowboy sitting three seats to the left, Joe asked, “You know a woman by the name of Chloe Dawson?”
Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Weaver Christmas GiftThe Soldier's Holiday HomecomingSanta's Playbook Page 21