“I’ve done more than glance at it. After I got cleaned up and made some coffee, I practically memorized it. If I knew how to cross-stitch, I’d make a wall hanging of that list so I’d remember and quit being such a dependent wuss when a nice guy shows up.”
He noticed that she had a mound of cheese about nine inches high and at least that wide. “I think that’s enough cheese.”
She stopped grating and looked at what she’d done. Then she glanced over at him, and back at the mountain of cheese. “Are you sure?” A ripple of laughter ran through her question.
“Not really. Seems to me you can never have too much grated cheese.”
Her eyes sparkled and her lips twitched before she turned away from him. “It would help me immensely if you’d try to be less charming.”
“No can do. Charming is my factory setting. If you don’t believe me, ask my mom.” He reached for a handful of cheese and sprinkled it on top of the eggs.
“That remark is exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I tried being nasty once, back in fourth grade.” Something was burning, so he grabbed a spatula. “It didn’t work out for me.” He dug under the egg mixture, and sure enough, it was scorched on the bottom and still runny on the top. “Houston, we have a problem. The bottom’s overdone and the top is underdone.”
“Let’s try this.” She held out the pizza pan that was still sitting on the counter from last night. “If you can scoop it on here, I’ll stick it in the oven to bake.”
“Might work.” He made somewhat of a mess, but most of the omelet ended up on the pizza pan. While she slid that in the oven, he turned down the heat and melted more butter. “I’ll eat that one. This second try should be better.”
“We’ll split each one. That’s fair, especially since you’re doing most of the work.”
“You made the coffee.”
“Right! I need to pour us each a cup. How about some toast?”
“Absolutely.” He noticed that she’d stopped discussing his imminent departure and fallen in with the breakfast plan. Cooperation and compromise could be a beautiful thing. He wondered if she could see how well they achieved it.
She took a second mug from the cupboard. “Do you want to eat at the table or over by the fire?”
“I think we should move the table so we can sit there and still enjoy the fire.” He was beginning to hope that if he didn’t bring up the subject of lists and the joys of being single, she might drop it completely and they could go back to their regularly scheduled program of having fun together.
“Good idea.” She picked up a kitchen chair and carried it into the living room.
He helped her with the table, which they set up behind the couch, and then she stoked the fire. The toast popped about the time the second omelet was done. He couldn’t brag about the presentation of the eggs, which looked somewhat mangled on the plate, but at least they had food.
She buttered the toast, poured the coffee and gave them each a fork and a paper napkin. He made sure the burner and oven were off and then hurried over to pull out her chair.
“Why, thank you, Mac.”
“You’re welcome.” He noticed that her legal pad was also on the table beside her plate. Damn, she wasn’t going to drop the subject. “Look, I know we need to talk, but let’s eat first.”
“I won’t argue with that. I’m dying of hunger.”
“In that case, it won’t matter if it’s any good or not.” But to his surprise, the omelets were okay. The one from the oven tasted a little burned on the bottom, but the second one was decent. Not restaurant quality, but decent.
“Fabulous,” Beth said between bites.
“I think the secret is to starve yourself first.” But he was pleased with the result. And maybe, just maybe, having a full tummy would mellow her out.
Their plates were empty in record time. Mac sat back with a sigh of satisfaction and picked up his coffee mug.
“Mac, I want to thank you for going to all that trouble. The food was great.”
“It wasn’t bad.” He took note of her resolute expression. She was about to give him the ax. He might buy a little more time by offering to do the dishes, but clearly the stall tactic wasn’t working. He might as well face the music. “Look, I’ll leave if you want, but first, can I say something?”
Her green eyes grew wary. “Okay.”
“Relax. I’m not going to refute your argument. I like the idea that you’re self-sufficient. As a handyman, I’ve met a fair number of women who aren’t. I wish they had your self-confidence.”
“Apparently I’m not as self-sufficient as I thought, judging from my behavior this weekend.”
Mac rested his arms on the table and leaned forward, seeking a connection. “You think you lost focus, don’t you?”
She leaned forward, too, but she looked ready for battle, not connection. “I know I did!”
“That’s where I disagree. Your focus simply shifted for a while. You could get it back any time you need to. You’ve already proven you can survive just fine on your own. You’ve already been doing it.”
The determined light of battle intensified in her eyes. “Yes, but I can see myself putting work, or friends or family on the back burner because I’d rather spend time with you. And like I said, you have that superhero thing going on. You have to rescue people. Before you know it, I’ll be totally dependent on you for…for everything.”
He shook his head. “No, you won’t. I’d never encourage that. I’ve seen what happens when dependent people lose the one they’ve counted on for all their needs. It’s not pretty.”
“I don’t want to be that kind of person.”
“But don’t you see, Beth? You couldn’t possibly be. You like to rescue people as much as I do!”
She frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“I do. What’s a hotel? It offers shelter for weary travelers. You rescue them from temporary homelessness.”
“Well…”
Sensing he was gaining the advantage, he charged onward. “And what about when you have emergencies there? Don’t you get an adrenaline rush when you can solve the problem and save the day?”
“I suppose so, but—”
“Then there’s how you reacted to me. You wanted to save me from another awkward dinner at my parents’ house. You invited me here, to rescue me from that.”
She studied him, obviously intrigued by something she hadn’t considered before.
He took a deep breath. “No one can make you forget who you are or change how you want to live your life. I know that for a fact.”
The tension drained from her body, and in her eyes he saw a glimmer of hope, as if she wanted to believe him, but wasn’t sure that she could.
He had one more thing to say, and it was huge. He swallowed. “You’re a strong woman, Beth. But…in your plans, have you left any room for…” His chest tightened. He was far more invested than he realized.
Her gaze held his, and gradually the challenge in her eyes faded to be replaced by something warmer. “For what?” she said softly.
He swallowed. “For falling in love.”
She went very still.
Reaching for her hands, he held them tight as his heart threatened to race out of control. “We haven’t known each other very long, and yesterday I would have said this is impossible. Today I know it’s not. I’m falling in love with you, Beth.”
She trembled but didn’t look away.
“And what if…what if you missed me this morning because you’re starting to fall in love with me?”
She gripped his hands tighter.
“Does that scare you?”
Her answer was a whisper. “Yes.”
But she hadn’t denied the possibility that she’d come to care for him as much as he cared for her. Hope bloomed. “You don’t have to be scared. I don’t want a dependent woman in my life. Don’t ever think you have to be weak so I’ll feel strong. We can be strong together. Just love me,
Beth.”
The little sound she made told him it was time to leave the damn table and hold her. Still holding on to her, he stood, knocking over his chair, and drew her out of hers, which also toppled over. Her gaze never left his as he guided her into his arms.
“Spend today with me,” he murmured. “Give yourself time to absorb the idea that maybe, just maybe, we belong together, the union of two superheroes.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes. “All right.”
“Thank you.” His mouth captured hers, and he poured all the wonder and gratitude he felt into that kiss. From the way she kissed him back, he thought he had a shot.
When he finally came up for air, he gazed into her eyes and decided he definitely had a shot. She’d never looked at him quite this way before, and he could tell she was thinking about him in a whole new way.
She cupped his face and smiled up at him. “So what next?”
He started to make a suggestion and caught himself. “Your cabin, your call.”
Her smile widened. “Good answer.”
“So what next?” He didn’t care, so long as he’d be with her, although he had a couple of priorities.
“Can I interest you in making love by the fire?”
He loved it when their priorities matched up so well. “You certainly could.” And when he kissed her this time, he knew for sure that it would be a very good Thanksgiving, indeed.
EPILOGUE
BETH HAD KNOWN, DEEP DOWN, that she was falling for Mac from the moment he’d stepped through her door Wednesday night, but by Sunday morning, she had no doubts that he was right and this was love with a capital L. They lay together in the king-size bed planning how they’d arrange their schedules to maximize time spent together.
He’d also been right when he’d told her that there was room in her life for a relationship if it was important enough to her. It never had been before, but with Mac, it was. For now, they’d keep the road busy between here and Reno, but eventually she hoped to get a job managing one of the Tahoe hotels.
They’d spent the weekend attempting to cook, with limited success, and making love with much greater success. They’d concluded they’d rather make love than cook. Once she and Mac had dug his truck out of the snow, they’d indulged in a several-course hotel meal.
She’d learned his first name was actually Conneach and had promised not to call him that. They’d compared their taste in books and movies and had even discussed the hot-button issues of religion and politics. They didn’t agree on everything, and that was okay. She’d finally found a man who was comfortable with differences of opinion.
As the time sped by, Beth became more convinced that they could make a life together. Yet neither of them had mentioned marriage, even though they’d tentatively planned to meet each other’s parents within the next couple of weeks.
She’d certainly thought about the idea of a permanent commitment and figured he had, too. But they’d known each other such a short time. All things considered, it was a subject that could wait.
But as she lay beside him gazing into his blue eyes, she remembered a subject that couldn’t wait. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t asked him already. “When’s your mother’s birthday?”
He blinked. “Not for months. Why?”
“Humor me. When is it, exactly?”
“July nineteenth, which leaves you plenty of time to buy her a present. We should probably get the meet and greet out of the way before you start shopping, though.”
“You’re absolutely sure about the date, right?”
“Of course I’m sure. Come to think of it, we haven’t talked birthdays at all. When’s yours?”
“February twelfth.”
He nodded. “Okay. Got it.”
“You say that as if it’s now memorized.”
“Which it is. And no, I won’t just roll your birthday into Valentine’s Day. We’ll do each one separate.”
“I appreciate that.” She gazed at him. “Does that mean you know your dad’s and sister’s birthdays, too?”
“April sixteenth and September thirtieth. Oh, and by the way, although you didn’t ask, mine is October fourth, which gives you almost a whole year to shop.”
“Excellent. Thanks for the info.” There was so much to look forward to—Christmas, New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, celebrating Mac’s birthday with him for the first time. Happiness filled her heart.
“Why the birthday questions all of a sudden?”
“I once told myself that any guy who could reel off his family’s birthdays without a cheat sheet would make me sit up and take notice.”
“Wow. I didn’t know it was a test. What if I’d failed?”
She stroked his cheek. “I would still love you to pieces.”
“But I passed. I should get extra points.”
“Oh, you do.” She sighed happily. A girl didn’t run into a guy like Mac every day of the week and she would be a fool to let him get away. “You most certainly do.”
He pulled her closer. “I think I’ll collect on them right now.”
She nestled against him, her body responding eagerly to the heat in his eyes. “No complaints here, but pretty soon I have to start packing up my stuff.”
He nuzzled behind her ear. “And we have to write a note to Ken and Jillian.”
“You know they’ll think it was the cabin.”
He raised his head to look into her eyes. “Do you think it was the cabin?”
“I’m not sure. Do you?”
He shrugged. “Who cares?” He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m just grateful I found you. I love you, Beth.”
“And I love you.” As she lost herself in his kiss, she knew she would give thanks for this special weekend for the rest of her life.
THE CHRISTMAS SET-UP
New York Times and USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Jill Shalvis
CHAPTER ONE
“MERRY CHRISTMAS, SIR!” yelled the hot-dog vendor with a wide grin after Jason Monroe gestured for him to keep the change. The kid couldn’t have been more than twelve, hustling hot dogs and churros on the street.
Merry Christmas.
It was December 10, and all of San Francisco had been decorated for the holidays since before Thanksgiving. Jason wasn’t Scrooge, not exactly, but he sure as hell could do without the tinsel, the faux-wrapped boxes, the sappy music, the blinding, blinking lights.
By the time he entered Steele Architecture and Design where he worked as an associate architect, he’d finished his two loaded hot dogs and was working on the churro as he headed directly toward the boardroom for the weekly staff meeting. Most everyone was already there and Jason eyed his brother at the end of the long conference table. Mike was a draftsman for Steele, which meant he was basically an entry-level developing architect. At that moment he was hunched over some paperwork, laughing with some other draftsmen. They abruptly broke off at the sight of Jason.
Jason narrowed his eyes but everyone was suddenly a flurry of motion, busying themselves with their iPads, iPhones, laptops—
Everyone except Mike. He smiled at Jason innocently, and Jason shook his head. Mike was younger than Jason by five years, which put him at twenty-five going on twelve. He was the only person on earth who could pull Jason’s strings and get away with it.
For the past ten years, since their parents’ death, Jason had worked his ass off to keep Mike on the straight and narrow. He’d been moderately successful, but it had cost him—literally. When their parents died there’d been medical bills, a bad mortgage and no savings, leaving Jason and Mike with less than nothing. The debt had only racked up further with Jason’s college bills, followed by his brother’s. And yet somehow Jason couldn’t bring himself to sell his parents’ house, and every month he scraped up as much as he could to pay the mortgage and taxes. So in ten years, he hadn’t even been able to make a dent to his debt-load, something he was acutely reminded of every holiday season when it felt as if all he was doing
was whipping out his credit card. And then there was his brother, who didn’t seem to understand that the “minimum payment” wasn’t the credit card company’s version of an early Christmas present.
But that wasn’t what was bothering him now—it was Mike’s expression, that innocence. Mike didn’t have an innocent bone in his body. In fact, the last time he’d worn that expression, he’d just glued the caps on all the cylinders holding Jason’s building plans, including the ones he’d taken into a city council meeting.
This was what happened when your kid brother was a classic underachieving genius who lived to torture his older brother. But before Jason could find out what Mike was up to this time, Stan Steele, the head of their architecture firm, walked in to the boardroom. Just behind him was Zoe Anders, another associate architect like Jason.
Only, she was nothing like Jason. Zoe was a tall, stacked redhead, a woman who was an enigmatic mix of sweet warmth and sharp ambition.
And she was Jason’s only competition for the sole available promotion to principal architect.
Stan waited until Zoe sat…in the only free spot, next to Jason. She crossed her mile-long legs, and though he was sure the sound of smooth skin rubbing against smooth skin was all in his head, Jason was hit with a punch of awareness. An awareness he always felt around her, which actually felt more like…being shot with a stun gun.
He wasn’t sure what it was about her. There were other women in the company, some even prettier.
But the only one who stirred him was Zoe. Every single time.
Their gazes met. She audibly sucked in some air and then promptly dropped her portfolio. When she bent to grab it, she spilled her to-go mug of coffee. “Dammit,” he heard her mutter, and it made him smile. For the first time he had proof that he wasn’t alone in feeling the jolt of awareness between them. He hunkered down to help her gather her things.
“Thanks,” she said when he handed her the portfolio. They were both crouched low, face-to-face. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, then jerked away. “I’ve got it.”
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