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A Match Made Under the Mistletoe

Page 29

by Diana Palmer


  He went up and sat on the top step to wait.

  An hour went by. And another. She still wasn’t back.

  Well, fine. He would wait all night if he had to.

  Eventually, he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He must have dropped off because he woke up to the sound of a motorboat speeding toward him.

  “Wigs. What the hell?” Wigs didn’t answer, but the purring got louder. He pulled the cat onto his lap. “She’s not going to like finding you out here with me.”

  Wigs reached up a hairy paw and gently patted his cheek. Jed stroked the thick orange fur. Eventually he leaned his head against the wall and went back to sleep.

  The next time he woke, Elise was standing over him. The view was spectacular. But he tried his best to look regretful. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay away—and I have no idea how this damn cat got out. I was sitting here minding my own business and suddenly he was in my lap.”

  She shook her head—at him. And at the cat in his lap, too. And then she said something wonderful. “Come on inside.”

  So he rose and carried Wigs into the one-room apartment. It wasn’t fancy and it was much too small. Still, she’d made it cozy, with bright pictures on the walls and comfortable furniture attractively arranged.

  “Homey,” he said, and it was, because she was there.

  She took the cat from him. He waited while she opened a can and filled one of the cat bowls. Wigs dug in. She washed her hands and dried them, took the pins from her hair and shook it out on her shoulders, at which point he realized he would pay half his next advance to be allowed to sift his fingers through the coffee-colored strands.

  But first things first. He held up a memory stick.

  When she eyed it with wariness, he quickly explained, “This is the first three chapters of my next book. I wrote it using voice recognition software—which I have to admit, has come a long way since the last time I tried it.” Did she look doubtful? He couldn’t really blame her. “I get that the last thing you want or need right now is an update on Jack McCannon. But still, I’m asking you to bring this up on your laptop. I need you to see that I really did it—I wrote sixty-three pages without terrorizing a single innocent assistant.”

  By then, those eyes had gone soft again and her beautiful mouth trembled. “I would love an update on Jack McCannon.” She whipped the stick from his hand and opened the laptop that waited on the counter. “There’s a beer in the fridge. Take another nap. Whatever. I’m going to need at least an hour. Maybe more…”

  He did grab himself a beer. But sleeping? No freaking way. He sat on the sofa with Wigs draped along the back of it while she read the material through.

  When she turned on her stool to meet his eyes at last, hers were suspiciously misty. “It’s good. It’s really good. I do have a few suggestions…”

  He stood. “And I can’t wait to hear them.”

  “But not right now.” She sounded slightly breathless. Breathless was excellent.

  “No. Not right now.” He closed the short distance from the sofa to the counter. Gently, he guided a curl of hair behind her ear—and she let him. She even leaned a little into his hand. “I went to Bravo Catering today. It’s beautiful, what you’ve done with the bakery. And the wedding? I wasn’t even invited and I had a great time. The food was so good. And I watched you.”

  Did she seem disapproving? A little. He couldn’t say he blamed her. She asked, “How long were you there?”

  “I lurked for hours, ducking out of sight whenever you got near and I shamelessly pretended to be some guy named Silas.”

  She laughed. “What in the…? Silas?”

  “Long story. Doesn’t matter. What I mean is, you were doing what you love to do and you’re really good at it and it shows.” He caught her hand then, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “Elise, I was so wrong. I can’t even count the ways.”

  Her eyes got misty. “Oh, yes you were. And I was so afraid, Jed. That you would never come for me.” A tear escaped then. It left a shining trail as it slid down the velvety curve of her cheek.

  He wiped it up with a finger and put it to his tongue—salty. And very sweet. “I couldn’t come for you. Not until I knew what to do, how to move forward. And it’s been bad, Elise. Now I’ve been with you, none of it makes much sense if you’re not there.”

  “Oh, I know the feeling.”

  “I couldn’t stand for you to see me like that, desperate and scared. Trapped in a bad place, afraid I would never find my way out.”

  “But Jed, you saw me like that the first morning I made you breakfast.”

  He ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her throat. Her skin was cool velvet. “I remember that day. You made me French toast. Best I ever tasted.”

  “And then I burst into tears and ran to my room and you followed me and listened to me pour out my sad tale of woe. You held me and comforted me and…well, you made it all better. I want to be the one who makes all better for you.”

  He caught her face between his hands, bent down and pressed a kiss against those lips he would never get enough of tasting. “You do make it all better for me.”

  “But you sent me away.”

  “I told you. I didn’t want—”

  “—me to see you like that. I heard you.”

  “And there’s more,” he admitted. “It gets worse. After you, there was no way I was having another person in my office sitting in your chair, typing my words for me. No one could compare, that’s a simple fact. And then there was what you told me the day I asked you to leave, that I needed to get out of my own way, not be so hung up on my precious process. You were so right. Until I did change it up, until I proved to myself that I could make it happen on my own, there always would have been the danger that I would start in on you again, that I would try to manipulate you into typing my words for me, into saving my ass.”

  She laid her cool, soft hand against his cheek. “I have more faith in you than that.”

  “How can you? I did try to manipulate you. You told me repeatedly that you were done when the book was done and I refused to believe you.” He shook his head and grumbled, “And I can’t believe I’m confessing all this. I should keep my mouth shut. Quit while I’m ahead.”

  “Uh-uh. You should be honest with me. And you are.” Her smile bloomed wide. “And I’m so glad. But I do need you to promise me that in the future, if things get bad for you, turning your back on what we have together won’t be an option. In the bad times, you have to let me be there for you, no matter how tough it gets for you. That’s part of what we are, part of you and me together.”

  He couldn’t make that promise fast enough. “We have a deal. From now on, no matter how bad it gets, we’re both staying. Nobody gets away. There’s no escape. You’re stuck with me.”

  “Good.” She said it so easily, with no hesitation.

  He stroked a hand down her hair. “How’d I get so lucky to have a chance with you?”

  “Well, you did agree to pay me four thousand a week—and then there was that jetted tub.” She was grinning.

  And he couldn’t let another minute go by without saying it. “I love you, Elise.”

  Color flooded her wonderful face. “And I love you, Jed.”

  Words rose in his throat and he let them spill out. “I want to marry you. I want a life with you…” What was he saying? He was babbling like an idiot. He should shut up. But the words just kept coming. “It’s too early,
right, to be asking you that? And there should be a ring. I know that. A ring with a diamond so big, you can’t possibly say no. I’ve botched it. I can see that. I’m doing this all wrong and I—”

  “Jed.” She gazed up at him, surprisingly dewy-eyed after all his stupid blathering. “Yes.”

  The world spun to a stop. “I don’t… I can’t… Did you just say yes?”

  She laughed then, full out and glorious. “Yes, Jed. Yes, yes, yes!”

  That did it. He kissed her—a proper kiss. Slow and wet and deep. And then he scooped her up, carried her over to the bed in the corner and got to work undressing her. Once all her beautiful curves were bare for him, he got rid of his own clothes, as well.

  They stood together, naked by the side of her bed. “Come home with me tonight, you and the fur ball.”

  “Yes, we’ll come home with you.”

  “But first…” Taking her shoulders, he guided her down to sit on the edge of the bed. Then he kneeled at her feet. Looking up into her misty eyes, he saw the truth so very clearly. From the day his father died, nothing in the world had really made sense to him. There had been no one who claimed him, no one who felt like his own—not until now. “You’re everything to me, Elise. I can’t believe I’ve found you at last, can’t believe that you’re here, that you said yes, that you’re taking me back.”

  “I love you, Jed.” She bent over him, close and then closer. He smelled her fresh scent, felt her breath in his hair, her soft fingers caressing his neck. She urged him up onto the bed with her and held him to her heart. He lost himself in the welcoming heat of her body.

  Afterward, she fell asleep in his arms. He didn’t want to wake her, so they ended up staying the night in her little apartment.

  In the morning, she made him French toast for breakfast. Then she packed up her suitcases and gathered all the cat stuff together. He helped her carry everything down to the cars. She followed him home.

  When they got there, before she even brought Wigs in, he took her hand and led her out the open garage door, around to the winding front walk and up the wide porch steps.

  “Wait right here.” He unlocked the door, stepped in just long enough to turn off the alarm and then stepped back out. She laughed as he swung her high in his arms and carried her over the threshold.

  And then she kissed him. “I love you,” she said, her dark eyes shining. “I’m so glad you came to get me, Jed. I’m so glad you’ve finally brought me home.”

  * * * * *

  Watch for Darius Bravo’s story A BRAVO FOR CHRISTMAS coming soon only from Harlequin Special Edition.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from SNOWFALL ON HAVEN POINT by RaeAnne Thayne.

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  Single mom Andrea Montgomery only agreed to look in on injured sheriff Marshall Bailey as a favor to his sister, but when these lonely hearts are snowed in together, there’s no telling what Christmas wishes might come true.

  Read on for a sneak peek of SNOWFALL ON HAVEN POINT by New York Times bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne, coming soon wherever Harlequin books and ebooks are sold!

  Snowfall on Haven Point

  by RaeAnne Thayne

  CHAPTER ONE

  SHE REALLY NEEDED to learn how to say no once in a while.

  Andrea Montgomery stood on the doorstep of the small, charming stone house just down the street from hers on Riverbend Road, her arms loaded with a tray of food that was cooling by the minute in the icy December wind blowing off the Hell’s Fury River.

  Her hands on the tray felt clammy and the flock of butterflies that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her stomach jumped around maniacally. She didn’t want to be here. Marshall Bailey, the man on the other side of that door, made her nervous under the best of circumstances.

  This moment definitely did not fall into that category.

  How could she turn down any request from Wynona Bailey, though? She owed Wynona whatever she wanted. The woman had taken a bullet for her, after all. If Wyn wanted her to march up and down the main drag in Haven Point wearing a tutu and combat boots, she would rush right out and try to find the perfect ensemble.

  She would almost prefer that to Wyn’s actual request, but her friend had sounded desperate when she called earlier that day from Boise, where she was in graduate school to become a social worker.

  “It’s only for a week or so, until I can wrap things up here with my practicum and Mom and Uncle Mike make it back from their honeymoon,” Wyn had said.

  “It’s not a problem at all,” she had assured her. Apparently she was better at telling fibs than she thought because Wynona didn’t even question her.

  “Trust my brother to break his leg the one week that his mother and both of his sisters are completely unavailable to help him. I think he did it on purpose.”

  “Didn’t you tell me he was struck by a hit-and-run driver?”

  “Yes, but the timing couldn’t be worse, with Katrina out of the country and Mom and Uncle Mike on their cruise until the end of the week. Marshall assures me he doesn’t need help, but the man has a compound fracture, for crying out loud. He’s not supposed to be weight-bearing at all. I would feel better the first few days he’s home from the hospital if I knew that someone who lived close by could keep an eye on him.”

  Andie didn’t want to be that someone. But how could she say no to Wynona?

  It was a good thing her friend had been a police officer until recently. If Wynona had wanted a partner in crime, Thelma & Louise style, Andie wasn’t sure she could have said no.

  “Aren’t you going to ring the doorbell, Mama?” Chloe asked, eyes apprehensive and her voice wavering a little. Her daughter was picking up her own nerves, Andie knew, with that weird radar kids had, but she had also become much more timid and anxious since the terrifying incident that summer when Wyn and Cade Emmett had rescued them all.

  “I can do it,” her four-year-old son, Will, offered. “My feet are freezing out here.”

  Her heart filled with love for both of her funny, sweet, wonderful children. Will was the spitting image of Jason, while Chloe had his mouth and his eyes.

  This would be their third Christmas without him and she had to hope she could make it much better than the previous two.

  She repositioned the tray and forced herself to focus on the matter at hand. “Sorry, I was thinking of something else.”

  She couldn’t very well tell her children that she hadn’t knocked yet because she was too busy thinking about how much she didn’t want to be here.

  “I told you that Sheriff Bailey has a broken leg and can’t get around very well. He probably can’t make it to the door easily and I don’t want to make him get up. He should be expecting us. Wynona said she was calling him.”

  She transferred the tray to one arm just long enough to knock a couple of times loudly and twist the doorknob, which gave way easily. The door was blessedly unlocked.

  “Sheriff Bailey? Hello? It’s Andrea Montgomery.”

  “And Will and Chloe Montgomery,” her son called helpfully, and Andie had to smile, despite the nerves jangling through her.

  An instant later, she heard a crash, a thud and a muffled groan.

  “Sheriff Bailey?”

  “Not really…a good time.”

  She couldn’t miss the pain in the voice of Wynona’s older brother. It made her realize how ridiculous she was being. The man had been through a terrible ordeal in the last twenty-four hours and all s
he could think about was how much he intimidated her.

  Nice, Andie. Feeling small and ashamed, she set the tray down on the nearest flat service, a small table in the foyer still decorated in Wyn’s quirky fun style even though her brother had been living in the home since late August.

  “Kids, wait right here for a moment,” she said.

  Chloe immediately planted herself on the floor by the door, her features taking on the fearful look she had worn too frequently since Rob Warren burst back into their lives so violently. Will, on the other hand, looked bored already. How had her children’s roles reversed so abruptly? Chloe used to be the brave one, charging enthusiastically past any challenge, while Will had been the more tentative child.

  “Do you need help?” Chloe asked tentatively.

  “No. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  She was sure the sound had come from the room where Wyn had spent most of her time when she lived here, a space that served as den, family room and TV viewing room in one. Her gaze immediately went to Marshall Bailey, trying to heft himself back up to the sofa from the floor.

  “Oh no!” she exclaimed. “What happened?”

  “What do you think happened?” he growled. “You knocked on the door so I tried to get up to answer and the damn crutches slipped out from under me.”

  “I’m so sorry. I only knocked to give you a little warning before we barged in. I didn’t mean for you to get up.”

  He glowered. “Then you shouldn’t have come over and knocked on the door.”

  She hated any conversation that came across as a confrontation. They always made her want to hide away in her room like she was a teenager again in her grandfather’s house. It was completely immature of her, she knew. Grown-ups couldn’t always walk away.

  “Wyn asked me to check on you. Didn’t she tell you?”

  “I haven’t talked to her since yesterday. My phone ran out of juice and I haven’t had a chance to charge it.”

  By now, the county sheriff had pulled himself back onto the sofa and was trying to position pillows for his leg that sported a black orthopedic boot from his toes to just below his knee. His features contorted as he tried to reach the pillows, but he quickly smoothed them out again. The man was obviously in pain and doing his best to conceal it.

 

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