Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: The Maverick's Thanksgiving BabyA Celebration ChristmasDr. Daddy's Perfect Christmas

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Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: The Maverick's Thanksgiving BabyA Celebration ChristmasDr. Daddy's Perfect Christmas Page 41

by Brenda Harlen


  Any more than he could blame himself, he supposed, for the not-so-little pings and dings and buzzings when Claire was around. He thought he’d buried his libido with his wife. Clearly not.

  And this despite her dressing crazier than the kids. Take today, for instance—a sweater that came practically to her knees, the ugliest, puffiest vest on God’s green earth, boots that looked like Chewbacca’s feet. Three pairs of earrings. Granted, all tiny, but...

  “Honestly, I had no idea the kid had an ulterior motive,” Claire was saying. “Nor would I have gone along with her nefarious plan if I had—” Something crashed overhead, shaking the house. She looked up. “Because that would drive me nuts.”

  “You don’t like kids?”

  Her gaze snapped to his, and Ethan’s face heated. A knee-jerk reaction, totally uncalled for and way out of proportion to the situation. Especially considering how often his progeny drove him nuts, too.

  Claire tilted her head, a little grin tugging at her mouth. “Kids are great. Noise, not so much. Which is why I love teaching—I can get my fill of the little darlings, then they go home. To someone else’s house. And I go home to mine.” Harry yelled at Finn about...something. “Where it’s, you know, peaceful.”

  Not for the first time, he found her presence...unnerving, he supposed it was. Aside from the attraction thing, that was. Because it was like she was always “on,” practically crackling with energy. Made sense, he supposed, given her being a drama teacher. But the idea of being around that all the time—especially considering the little life-suckers his kids were—made Ethan very tired. Merri... She’d been the epitome of calm. Not dull, no, but steady. Soothing.

  Grief twinged, just enough to prod awake the loneliness, usually smothered under blankets of busyness and obligation. Willing it go back to sleep, Ethan walked over to the fireplace, figuring he might as well stack wood for this evening’s fire as the house filled with the scents of bacon and cinnamon rolls. Jules was going all out. Great.

  “I wouldn’t know peaceful if it bit me in the butt,” Ethan finally said, to fill the void as much as anything. Crouching, he grabbed a couple of logs from the metal bucket next to the hearth. “There were always a lot of kids around when I was growing up. I was one of five, four of us being adopted.”

  “Five? Wow.”

  “And my parents fostered probably two dozen more over the years.”

  “No kidding? That’s awesome.”

  His back to Claire, Ethan smiled as he arranged the logs in the firebox. “Yeah,” he said, getting to his feet and dusting off his hands. “They were something else.”

  Wearing an easy smile, Claire leaned against the arm of the sofa, her arms crossed, looking less...crackly. “Were?”

  “Well, Pop still is, although he’s more than content being a grandpa these days. Mom passed away some years back. But being raised with all those kids... It only seemed natural that I’d have a batch of my own someday. Would’ve had more, but that wasn’t in the cards—”

  And why the hell was he blathering on to this woman he barely knew? But while he could stanch the blathering, he couldn’t do a blamed thing about the memories—of the other babies he and Merri had lost...of what he’d lost, period. Of the what-might-have-beens he rarely indulged, for everyone’s sake. And yet—stronger, even, than the scents coming from the kitchen—they practically choked him this morning. It was strange how even after more than three years they could pounce out of nowhere, throw him for a loop.

  Releasing a breath, he met Claire’s disconcertingly gentle gaze again and switched the subject. “You got brothers and sisters?”

  “Nope,” she said, shaking her head before plopping cross-legged on the floor to rub Barney’s belly. “There were a few distant cousins, but I rarely saw them.” She grinned when the dog licked her hand. “I like people. It’s living with them I have issues with. I have a cat, though. Does that count?”

  “I’m gonna have to say no to that,” Ethan said, and Claire snorted another little laugh as the dog crawled into her lap.

  “What is he?”

  “A schnoodle.” Claire’s eyes lifted to his. “Schnauzer/poodle. We got him...” He cleared his throat. “Three years ago.”

  Still petting the dog, Claire quietly said, “Juliette really keeps trying to fix you up?”

  “Yeah,” he breathed out.

  “I assume you’ve asked her to back off?”

  “Repeatedly. Only to get this look like I’m speaking Klingon—”

  “Breakfast’s ready!” Jules called, and Claire shoved to her feet again.

  “I could talk to her, if you want—”

  “I can handle my own daughter, thanks,” Ethan snapped, only to realize how dumb that sounded, considering what he’d said not two seconds before. A realization Claire obviously picked up on, judging from the damn twinkle in her eyes.

  “Yeah, well, as someone who used to be a teenage girl I can tell you they’re very good at ignoring what they don’t want to hear. Especially from their fathers. And since this doesn’t only concern you, I do reserve the right to set things straight from my end.”

  Jeez, the woman was worse than his daughter. But Ethan also guessed she had Juliette’s ear, which apparently he didn’t. At least not about this.

  “Fine. Do whatever you think is best. But for now...let’s just get this breakfast over with, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” Claire said with a quick smile before following him to the kitchen, and Ethan pushed out another sigh that, God willing, in a half hour this—she—would be nothing more than a tiny blip on the old radar screen.

  Because it’d taken the entire three years since Merri’s death to fine-tune the playbook that held his family, his life, together...and damned if he was gonna let some curly-headed cutie distract him from it now.

  Claire ducked into the main floor half bath as the landline rang: Jules had already picked up by the time Ethan reached the kitchen, deftly cradling it between her jaw and her shoulder as she served up omelets and fried potatoes, looking so much like her mother Ethan’s heart knocked.

  “Hey, Baba—” The spatula hovering over the skillet, she went stock-still. “Oh, no...that sucks! Ick....Yeah, I’ll tell him....No, we’ll work it out,” she said as Ethan motioned for her to give him the phone. But she only brandished the spatula, shaking her head. “Of course I’m sure. You need us for anything?...Okay, then....We’ll talk later.” She redocked the phone, glancing at Ethan as she finished dishing up breakfast. “Baba’s got a tummy bug, she can’t take Bella to dance class.”

  He silently swore. Right or wrong, he depended on Merri’s parents to sometimes fill the gap, a role they both seemed to relish. And it’d been Carmela’s idea to put the little jumping bean in ballet class to burn off at least some of her boundless energy. Kid could run ten circles around her brothers. Speaking of whom... “The boys have their game at ten, I can’t do both.”

  “Another argument for letting me get my license sooner rather than later—”

  “Forget it. Maybe I could get Pop to take her—”

  “PopPop in a room full of baby ballerinas. Yeah, I can totally see that. Hey—maybe Miss Jacobs could do it?”

  “Maybe Miss Jacobs could do what?” Claire said as she returned, scrubbing her obviously still-damp hands across her butt.

  Ethan looked away. “And I’m sure she has better things to do with her morning.”

  “And you always say, Dad, it never hurts to ask. Right? Anyway, sit, both of you, everything’s ready. So Bella has ballet this morning,” she went on as Claire sat, “and my grandmother usually takes her, ’cause the boys have football or soccer or whatever—it’s always something. Only she’s sick and can’t do it. So I said maybe you could. It’s not far, right over on Main—”

  “Omigosh—not Miss Louise’s?�


  “Yeah. You know it?”

  “Know it? I took classes there for more than ten years! She’s still alive?”

  “Barely, but yeah—”

  And naturally, Bella picked that moment to bounce into the kitchen in her pink tights and black leotard. “Is Baba here yet? ’Cause I’m all ready, see? And can I have a piece of bacon?”

  “Help yourself,” Jules said, holding the plate out for her sister as Ethan said, “You’re not supposed to leave for an hour yet. But in any case—”

  “Your grandmother’s not feeling well,” Claire said, chomping the end off her own piece of bacon, “so I’m going to take you.”

  Ethan’s brows slammed together. “What?”

  “My morning’s free, so why not? Besides, I’ve always been a sucker for trips down memory lane. So what do you say, Isabella?”

  That got the Very Concerned Face. “But I don’t know you. And Baba always takes me for lunch afterward.”

  “It’s okay, Belly,” Jules said, “Ms. Jacobs is one of my teachers, she’s cool—”

  “And maybe Juliette could go with us, if that would make you feel better,” Claire said, adding, at the teen’s nod, “and we can still go to lunch after.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.” Then she grinned at her breakfast. “Even though I probably won’t be hungry for hours. This looks amazing, Juliette.”

  “Thanks,” she said, then shot Ethan a grin that sent a brief, sharp pain shooting through his skull.

  Copyright © 2014 by Karen Templeton-Berger

  ISBN-13: 9781460341902

  A Celebration Christmas

  Copyright © 2014 by Nancy Robards Thompson

  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.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com

  Mistletoe Baby

  Pregnant…and widowed. It wasn’t quite how Nora Parker had planned to be ringing in the holidays this year. Though she was excited to meet her new baby, the last thing she’d expected was the return of Dr. Eli St. John—the man who’d broken her heart years ago. Now he was back, filling in at his father’s practice. He definitely wouldn’t be staying in town. And she definitely shouldn’t be looking forward to seeing him again!

  Eli had left his small town for bigger adventures, assuming Nora would always be waiting. Now she was his best friend’s widow, expecting a baby Eli wished was theirs. With the holidays approaching and his time in town dwindling, did he dare make one last effort to claim the Christmas gift he should have accepted years ago?

  “We’re friends, Nora. Let me be there for you while I’m here.”

  Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. Desire twisted in Eli’s stomach that had nothing to do with the old feelings he had for her. Those were gone, those were a lifetime ago.

  This thread of attraction was for the woman she was now, the stubborn, sexy, vibrant woman who kept insisting she didn’t need anybody.

  “I have friends, Eli.” She offered an innocent, sweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re here to take care of your father and work. There’s no need for you to add anything else to the mix.”

  Unable to help himself, Eli reached out, slid a hand across her silky cheek and stroked his thumb across her lower lip.

  “Maybe I want to add you to the mix,” he murmured as he stepped closer.

  * * *

  THE ST. JOHNS OF STONEROCK:

  Three rebellious brothers come home to stay.

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to my Harlequin Special Edition debut! I’m so excited to introduce you to the St. Johns of Stonerock. My heroes weren’t always upstanding citizens of the small, quaint town. As you’ll soon find out, these three brothers who were once hellions have become quite the powerful males: Eli the doctor, Drake the fire chief and Cameron the police chief.

  In Dr. Daddy’s Perfect Christmas, you’ll meet ex-soldier turned big-city doctor Eli St. John. He’s filling in as the hometown doc and is instantly swept back into the life of his onetime love, Nora Parker…who happens to be widowed and expecting a baby.

  Reunion stories have always been a favorite of mine. With any good reunion comes that period of getting to know each other all over again. What Nora and Eli rediscover about each other, and about themselves, will have them fighting for everything they thought they’d lost.

  Second chances don’t always happen in life. I’m thrilled I could give Eli and Nora their much deserved happily ever after. :)

  I hope you enjoy Eli’s story and eagerly await the rest of the St. John boys!

  Happy reading!

  Jules Bennett

  DR. DADDY’S PERFECT CHRISTMAS

  Jules Bennett

  Books by Jules Bennett

  Harlequin Special Edition

  ΔDr. Daddy’s Perfect Christmas #2370

  Harlequin Desire

  Her Innocence, His Conquest #2081

  Caught in the Spotlight #2148

  Whatever the Price #2181

  Behind Palace Doors #2219

  Hollywood House Call #2237

  To Tame a Cowboy #2264

  Snowbound with a Billionaire #2283

  *When Opposites Attract… #2316

  *Single Man Meets Single Mom #2325

  Silhouette Desire

  Seducing the Enemy’s Daughter #2004

  For Business…or Marriage? #2010

  From Boardroom to Wedding Bed? #2046

  *The Barrington Trilogy

  ΔThe St. Johns of Stonerock

  Other titles by this author available in ebook format.

  JULES BENNETT

  National bestselling author Jules Bennett’s love of storytelling started when she would get in trouble as a child and would tell her parents her imaginary friends were to blame. Since then, her vivid imagination has taken her down a path she’d only dreamed of. And after twelve years of owning and working in salons, she hung up her shears to write full-time.

  Jules doesn’t just write Happily Ever After—she lives it. Married to her high school sweetheart, Jules and her hubby have two little girls who keep them smiling. She loves to hear from readers! Contact her at [email protected], visit her website, www.julesbennett.com, where you can sign up for her newsletter, or send her a letter at P.O. Box 396, Minford, OH 45653. You can also follow her on Twitter and join her Facebook fan page.

  To Stacy Boyd and Gail Chasan,

  editorial dream team. Thank you both so much

  for loving this series as much as I do!

  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

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Don’t look, just keep walking.

  Dr. Eli St. John walked up the freshly dusted, snow-covered sidewalk toward his parents’ bungalow and refused to even glance over to their neighbor’s house.

  Since he’d be calling Stonerock, Tennessee, home again for the next few months, he’d no doubt see that neighbor more often than he’d like. But on his first day back, he preferred to ease into being home, ease into knowing she was now within reaching distance. Not that he would do anything about it.

  He was such a coward.

  An uncomfortable weight settled in his chest at the thought of seeing his one-time love, the woman he’d never forgotten, the woman who’d married his best friend.

  Eli wiped the snow off the bottom of his boots on a Santa Claus welcome mat, and before he could reach for the handle, the door swung wide open, causing an evergreen Christmas wreath to bounce in protest.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I knew we could count on you.”

  Eli sank into his mother’s familiar embrace. Before he could step over the threshold of the front door, his mother, Bev, was there to greet him with a smile and love. Just like she’d done each time he’d come home from a tour of duty.

 

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