by Susan Meier
Mortal embarrassment overwhelmed him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d be putting her out when he gave her name to the state policeman. “This is such an impo sition. You can’t give us your room. Finley and I don’t mind sleeping in the living room.”
Finley stomped her foot. “I don’t want to sleep on the floor.”
He flashed Finley another warning look. “You won’t. You can have the sofa.”
“I want a bed!”
Rory’s head pounded. He understood that this time of year wasn’t easy for Finley. Her mom had left on Christmas day two years before. So every year, she got moody, and every year he indulged her by taking her on vacation from Christmas Eve to New Year’s. For a guy who’d also lost his marriage on Christmas day, a vacation from the holiday was good for him, too. But the foot-stomping and the pouting and the demands that everything go her way, those had just started. And he absolutely refused to get on board with them. He had to spend the next week looking at Raleigh’s Department Store for his family’s holding company. He couldn’t have her acting like a brat all week.
He turned to Shannon. “Would you mind showing us to the bedroom so I can get Finley settled?”
“Not at all.”
She led them into a small first-floor bedroom that was as neat and clean as the rest of the house…minus boxes. A feminine white ruffled spread sat on a simple double bed. Red pillows on the bed matched the red shag carpet beneath it and the drapes on the double windows.
He dropped his duffel bag to the floor. “Wow.”
She faced him with a smile. Her shiny black hair was a wonderland of long, springy curls. In the years since university, her face had shifted just slightly and she’d become a softer, prettier version of the young girl he remembered.
“Wow?”
“I’m just a little surprised by your room.”
Her smile grew. “Really? Why?”
“The red.” He felt the same color rising on his cheeks. The room was girlie, yet incredibly sexy. But he certainly didn’t feel comfortable saying that to the woman giving him and his daughter shelter, especially not after Finley’s minitantrum. Still, he never would have guessed this sexy combination of color and style from the sweet Shannon he knew all those years ago at school.
“There’s a private bathroom for the bedroom—” she gestured toward a door to the right “—over there.”
“Thank you.”
“Just come out when you’re ready.” She smiled. “I’ll start supper. I hope you like toasted cheese sandwiches and soup. I’m not much of a cook.”
“On a cold day like this, soup is terrific.”
She closed the door behind her and Rory crouched down in front of Finley. Smoothing his hand down her shiny yellow hair, he said, “You’re killing me.”
She blinked innocently “What?”
“Ms. Raleigh is doing us a favor by letting us stay. We should be polite to her.”
“I was polite.”
“Saying you want the bed while you stomp your foot is not polite.”
Her bottom lip puffed out. “Sorry.”
And thiswas why he had trouble disciplining her. The second he pointed out something she’d done wrong, she turned on that little-girl charm. Batted her long black lashes over her pretty blue eyes.
Scrubbing his hand over his mouth, he rose. “I’ll tell you what. You stay in here for a few minutes, while I spend some time getting acquainted with our hostess.” And apologizing and doing damage control. “While I’m gone, you can get your pajamas and toothbrush out of your backpack and think about how you’d want a little girl to behave if she were a guest in our house.”
Apparently liking her assignment, she nodded eagerly.
“And don’t spend all your time thinking about how you’d spoil your little guest, because you wouldn’t. If you had to give up your bed for a stranger, you’d want her to be nice to you.”
Finley nodded again and said, “Okay. I get it.”
Rory was absolutely positive she didn’t, but he had to make amends to Shannon. He left Finley in the bedroom and walked up the hall to the kitchen.
The house was small, but comfortable. The furniture was new and expensive, an indication that Raleigh’s Department Store did, indeed, make lots of money. So maybe the trip to Pennsylvania might not have been the mistake he’d thought while sitting in his car for ten hours, not moving, on the interstate?
He found Shannon in the kitchen. Still wearing her coat, she drew bread from a drawer and cheese from the refrigerator.
“Thanks again for taking us in.”
“No problem.” She set the bread and cheese on the center island of the sunny yellow kitchen with light oak cabinets and pale brown granite countertops. She reached for the top button of her coat. “Furnace has kicked in,” she said with a laugh, popping the first button and the second, but when she reached for the third, she paused. “I think I’ll just take this out to the hall closet.”
She walked past him, to the swinging door. Wanting something to do, he followed her. Just as he said, “Is there anything I can do to help with supper?” her coat fell off her shoulders, revealing a bright red dress.
But when she turned in surprise, he saw the dress wasn’t really a dress but some little red velvet thing that dipped low at the bodice, revealing an enticing band of cleavage. Tall black boots showcased her great legs.
She was dressed like Mrs. Santa—if Mrs. Santa were a young, incredibly endowed woman who liked short skirts.
His dormant hormones woke as if from a long winter’s nap, and he took a step back. These little bursts of attraction he was having toward her were all wrong. He had an unruly daughter who took priority over everything in his life, including his hormones, and he was a guest in Shannon’s house. Plus, tomorrow morning, when the storm was over, they’d go into her department store as adversaries of a sort. She’d be trying to sell her family business to him and he’d be looking for reasons not to buy. He couldn’t be attracted to her.
He swallowed back the whole filing cabinet of flirtatious remarks that wanted to come out. “That’s an interesting choice of work clothes.”
She laughed nervously. “I was going to fill in for our Santa’s helper in the toy department.”
Ah. Not Mrs. Santa but Santa’s helper.
“Well, the dress is very…” He paused. He knew the dress was probably supposed to be Christmassy and cute. And on a shorter woman it probably was. But she was tall, sleek, yet somehow still womanly. He didn’t dare tell her that. “Festive.”
She brought the coat to her neck, using it to shield herself. “That’s the look we’re after. Festive and happy. And it actually works for the girl who fits into this costume. I was lucky Mother Nature saved me and I didn’t have to fill in for her tonight.”
Recognizing her acute nervousness, Rory pulled his gaze away from her long, slim legs. He cleared his throat. “I…um…just followed you to see if I could help you with anything.”
She motioned toward his black suit and white shirt. “Are you sure you want to butter bread or stir tomato soup in a suit?”
He took off his jacket, loosened his tie and began rolling up his sleeves.
And Shannon’s mouth watered. Damn it. She’d already figured out she couldn’t be fantasizing about him. Sure, his shoulders were broad, his arms muscled. And she’d always been a sucker for a man in a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves looking like he was ready to get down to business. But as far as she could tell, he was married. That shut down the possibility of any relationship right then and there. Plus, she wanted him to buy her parents’ store. She couldn’t be drooling on him.
She hung up her coat, then scurried past him, into the kitchen and directly to the laundry room. Leaning on the closed door, she drew in a deep breath. God, he was gorgeous. But he was also married.
Married. Married. Married.
She forced the litany through her head, hoping it would sink in, as she grabbed a pair of sweats and a T-s
hirt from the dryer and changed into them.
When she returned to the kitchen he stood at the center island, buttering bread. “While we have a few seconds of privacy, I also wanted to apologize for Finley. I brought her because she’s on Christmas break from school and I hate to leave her with her nanny for an entire week. But I know she can be a handful.”
Walking over to join him, she said, “She’s just a little girl.”
“True, but she’s also recently entered a new phase of some sort where she stomps her foot when she doesn’t get her own way.”
Standing so close to him, she could smell his after-shave. Her breathing stuttered in and out of her lungs. So she laughed, trying to cover it. “A new phase, huh?”
“She was perfectly fine in preschool and kindergarten, but first grade is turning her into a diva.”
“Diva?”
“Yeah.” Smiling, he caught her gaze, and every nerve ending in her body lit up like the lights on the Christmas tree in Central Park. Spinning away from him, she repeated the litany in her head again.
Married. Married. Married!
“You know, I can easily handle this myself. You can use the den for privacy if you need to call your wife.”
He snorted a laugh. “Not hardly.”
She set the frying pan for the sandwiches on the stove and faced him again. “I’m sure she’s worried.”
“And I’m sure she and her new husband aren’t even thinking about me and Finley right now.”
“Oh.” Nerves rolled through her. He was divorced? Not married?
Their gazes caught. Attraction spun through her like snowflakes dancing in the light of a streetlamp. She reminded herself that they were about to do business, but it didn’t work to snuff out the snap and crackle of electricity sizzling between them.
She pivoted away from him. Pretending she needed all her concentration to open two cans of soup, she managed to avoid conversation. But that didn’t stop the chatter in her brain. As difficult as it might be to have a little girl around, she was abundantly glad Finley was with him. She might have had that quick fantasy of being stranded with him, but now that sanity had returned, she knew the sale of the store had to take precedence over a night of…she swallowed…passion? Good God, she hadn’t even thoughtthe word in a year, let alone experiencedit. She’d probably dissolve into a puddle if he made a pass at her.
Finley came out of the bedroom just as Rory set the sandwiches on the table and Shannon had finished ladling soup into the bright green bowls sitting on the pretty yellow place mats. She crawled onto a chair and spread her paper napkin on her lap.
Longing hit Shannon like an unexpected burst of winter wind. She remembered dreams of buying pretty dresses for her own little girl, her dreams of taking her to the park, gymnastics, dance lessons and soccer—
She stopped her thoughts, cut off the sadness and grief that wanted to engulf her. Surely, she could have a little girl in her house without breaking into a million shattered pieces? She hadn’t given up on the idea of becoming a mother altogether. She knew that once she adjusted to not having her own child, she could adopt. So maybe this was a good time to begin adjusting?
Finley sighed. “I don’t like red soup.”
Sounding very parental, Rory said, “That’s okay. Just eat your sandwich.”
Finley sighed heavily again, as if it were pure torture not to get her own way. Rory ignored her. Shannon studied her curiously, realizing that with Diva Finley she really would get a solid understanding of what it took to be a parent. She was like a little blond-haired litmus test for whether or not Shannon had what it took to adopt a child and be a mom.
Rory turned to her and said, “This is certainly a lovely old house.”
She faced Rory so quickly that their gazes collided. He had the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. And they were bottomless. Mesmerizing…
She gave herself a mental shake. It was pointless to be attracted. He wouldn’t make a pass at her with his daughter around, and she wouldn’t make a pass at him because they were about to do business. She had to stop noticing these things.
She cleared her throat. “The parts I’ve restored are great. But the whole heating system needs to be replaced.”
“Well, you’ve done a wonderful job on the renovations you have done.”
“Really?” She peeked up at him.
And everything Rory wanted to say fell out of his head. Her big blue eyes reminded him of the sky in summer. The black curls that curved around her face had his hand itching to touch them.
Finley sighed heavily. “I don’t want this soup.”
Rory faced her. “We already agreed that you didn’t have to eat it.”
“I don’t like that it’s here.”
“Here?”
“In front of me!”
Before Rory had a chance to react, Shannon rose with a smile. “Let me take it to the sink.”
She reached across the table, lifted the bowl and calmly walked it to the sink. Then she returned to the table and sat as if nothing had happened.
Technically nothing hadhappened. She’d diffused the potentially problematic soup episode just by reacting calmly.
Of course, he knew that was what heshould have done, but after ten grueling hours on the road, he was every bit as tired and cranky as Finley. And this confusing attraction he felt for Shannon wasn’t helping things.
“I don’t want this sandwich.”
Here we go again.“Finley—”
“I’m tired.”
Before Rory could remind her he was, too, Shannon rose. “I have just the cure for being tired. A bubble bath.”
Finley instantly brightened. “Really?”
“I have all kinds of bubbles in my bathroom. It’s right beside the bedroom you’re using. Why don’t we go get a bath ready for you?”
Finley all but bounced off her chair. “All right!”
They disappeared down the hall to the bedroom, and Rory ran his hand down his face.
He didn’t know what would drive him crazy first, his daughter or his hormones.
CHAPTER TWO
S HANNON WALKED OUTof the kitchen with a happy Finley skipping behind her to the bathroom. Her self-pity long forgotten and her new mission in place, she was glad to help tired, frazzled Rory with his daughter. It would give her a chance for some one-on-one time with Finley, a chance to prove to herself that she was strong enough to be around kids. Strong enough to adopt one of her own, if she wanted to.
Unfortunately, the second they were out of Rory’s earshot, Finley the Diva returned. “You can go. I’ll fill the tub myself.”
Having watched her friends in Charleston handle their children, if nothing else, Shannon knew the grown-up in charge had to stay in charge. “I’m sure you could, but I want to do it.”
Finley crossed her arms on her chest and huffed out a sigh.
For Rory’s sake, Shannon didn’t laugh. “I like this scent,” she said, picking up her favorite bubble bath. “But you can choose whichever one you want.”
Finley chose another scent. Shannon shrugged. It didn’t matter to her which scent Finley used. She turned on the tap, poured in the liquid and faced Finley with a smile. “I’m going to leave the room while this fills up so you can undress. Call me when you’re ready to step in the tub.”
“I don’t need help.”
And with that comment, Shannon decided she had experimented enough for one night. She didn’t have the right to discipline this little girl and she definitely needed a firm hand. So she left this battle for Rory. “Okay. That’s great.”
She walked out of the bathroom and directly into the kitchen. “Tub is almost full and Finley’s stripping. You might want to go in and supervise.”
Rory rose. “She can bathe herself but I like to be in the next room just in case.” He glanced at the dishes and winced. “Sorry about that.”
She waved a hand in dismissal. “I can load a few dishes into the dishwasher. You go on ahead.”
Alone in the kitchen for forty minutes, she wasn’t sure if Finley had decided to have an Olympic swim in her tub or if Rory was reading her a story…or if they’d found the TV and decided to stay on their own in the bedroom.
Whatever had happened, Shannon was fine with it. She knew they were both tired, weary. And once the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher and the kitchen cleaned, she had decorating to do. But just as she dragged the box of garland over to the sofa, Rory walked into the living room.
“Well, she’s down for the night.”
“I suspected she was tired.”
“Exhausted.”
“She’ll be happy in the morning.”
With a weary sigh, Rory fell to the couch. “How’d you get so smart about kids?”
His praise surprised her. Though she’d spent years watching her friends’ kids, longing for her own, she’d also all but ignored them this past difficult year. “I had some friends in South Carolina who had children. I used to babysit.”
He laughed. “You volunteeredto hang around kids?”
“It’s always easier to handle children who aren’t yours.” She brushed her hands together to rid them of attic dust and stepped away from the box of decorations. Eager to change the subject, she said, “You sound like you could use a glass of wine.”
“Or a beer, if you have one.”
“I do.” She left the living room, got two beers from the refrigerator and gave one to Rory.
He relaxed on the couch, closed his eyes. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She glanced at the decorations, thinking she really should get started, but also knowing Rory was embarrassed about imposing and at his wits’ end. Deciding to be a Good Samaritan and give him someone to talk to, she gingerly sat on the sofa beside him. “Must have been some drive.”
“There was a point when I considered turning around because I could see things were getting worse, but the weather reports kept saying the storm would blow out soon.” He peered over at her. “It never did.”
“This will teach you to listen to weathermen.”
He laughed. Relaxed a little more. “So you ended up taking over your family’s business?”