Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set

  Jack caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. “No, but it looks like you’re going to get your way.”

  “Huh?”

  “Eleanor! The food is getting cold,” her mother yelled from the dining room.

  Jack laughed and gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Eleanor.”

  She elbowed him then spun on her heel. “Watch it, Jumpin’ Jack Flash.”

  His hand landed heavy and warm on her shoulder. “I like Rudolph better,” he confessed, following her into the chaotic dining room.

  Ellie looked up at him, struck once again by his steadfast calm in the storm that was her family. “I’m thankful for you,” she whispered.

  A slow, sexy smile crept across his face. Ellie’s breath caught in her chest and she sent up a silent but fervent prayer that their child would inherit Daddy’s devastating dimple. “My mother says the first Saturday Our Lady has open is in July.”

  The smile didn’t fade. If anything the glimmer in his dark eyes intensified. “Too long.”

  “Are we going to eat, or are we going to sit here and watch sissy-missy neck with Elliot Ness?” Grandma Bernadette barked.

  “Jack, Ellie,” Gayle implored, nodding to the open chairs.

  For a few blessed moments, all talk of doves and guest books and horse-drawn carriages was smothered by the clatter of utensils and the murmurs that accompany the passing of platters. Ellie’s father spooned an excess of marshmallow and very little gooey orange sweet potato onto his plate. He flashed his sweet, shy smile and raised a questioning eyebrow. Her heart turned a flip-flop in her chest as she held her plate up so he could dish up the same for her.

  “There you go, Booger,” he said in the low, husky rumble he reserved just for his daughters.

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  Ellie wet her lips, her gaze riveted on her plate as a rush of tears clogged her throat and stung her eyes.

  “You okay, Booger?”

  “Elfie, you all right?”

  Her father and Jack spoke at the same time, each asking her essentially the same thing but in their unique way. Jack patted her leg beneath the table. Her father hefted a pan of stuffing and tried to pass it to her. The first and the last man she’d ever love both stared at her, anxious to give her whatever she needed. She looked up, unshed tears of gratitude blurring her vision as she turned toward the opposite end of the table.

  “Ma, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to wait until July to get married,” she said in a quivering voice.

  Gayle froze, the mashed potato spoon suspended in mid-air. A line of confusion bisected her mother’s brows as she glanced at the bowl in front of her then at Ellie’s plate, where a small potato volcano stood waiting for a dose of gravy. A single tear spilled over her lashes and made a mad dash down her cheek. She swiped at it impatiently and forced a watery smile as both Jack and her father tensed, ready to spring into action and defend her against whatever dared to upset her. Covering Jack’s hand with hers, she shook her head hard.

  “But, Eleanor,” Gayle began.

  “No, Ma. There’s no but. I can’t wait until July,” she added, darting a nervous glance at her fiancée. “It would be cutting it too close.”

  “Ha! Vegas, here we come!” Grandma Bernadette crowed.

  Gayle’s head snapped back. “She is not getting married in Las Vegas.”

  Jack’s dark gaze scoured her face, his forehead puckering as he searched for the clue he was missing. “Actually, I was thinking Jamaica,” he said slowly.

  Ellie flashed a wobbly smile. “Jamaica would be nice.”

  “Jamaica in July?” her mother barked. “The heat would be oppressive!”

  “We’re not waiting until July, Ma,” Ellie reminded her, unable to tear her eyes from Jack.

  “What’s going on, El?”

  Jack’s question came out deep and raspy. A trickle of anticipation told her he was closing in on the answer. She wet her parched lips, prepared to meet him halfway when Grandma Bernadette and Laurie gasped simultaneously.

  “She’s pregnant!” Bernadette crowed, clapping her hands like a game show contestant.

  Potatoes flew in every direction when Gayle slammed the spoon to the table. “She is not!”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ellie saw Laurie slip from her seat. Her sister’s gaze locked in like a laser as she circled the table. “You are, aren’t you?”

  Ellie could only stare at Jack, captivated by the gradual dawn of understanding that broke across his handsome features.

  “Booger?”

  “Eleanor?”

  “Well, are you sissy-miss?”

  All around her, the people who loved her most demanded an answer. All except one.

  Jack cocked his head in that little boy way that always hit her like a sledgehammer then he wagged it in befuddled denial. “Elfie?”

  “I might be,” she whispered. Then she crumbled under the pressure. “A little.”

  His eyebrows rose. A glimmer of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. She wanted to catch it with a kiss. “How can you be a little pregnant?”

  “I mean, I took a home test. Or three,” she clarified. “But I’m not absolutely positive.”

  Her mother fell back in her chair, a soft, strangled moan of defeat undercutting the expectant silence. “How did this happen?” she asked the ceiling above.

  “Three tests?” This time he let a little more of the smile shine through. “You’re not positive after three tests?”

  Ellie released the breath she was holding and grasped his hand instead. A wry smile curved her lips. The best she could give him was a helpless shrug. “I’m pretty positive.”

  The next thing she knew she was in his lap, scrambling to steady herself on the new and precarious perch as he plastered his lips to hers in a triumphant kiss.

  “I’m betting that’s how it happened,” Grandma Bernadette cackled.

  The moment Jack broke the kiss questions flew at them like a quiver full of arrows launched into the air. Ellie ignore them all, blinded by his beaming smile. She traced the divot of his dimple with the edge of her fingernail. “I take it you’re happy?”

  “So happy.” He pressed his nose to hers and wrapped his arms around her tight, cocooning them in their own little world there at the dinner table. “We’ll get married next week. Courthouse, Vegas, whatever.”

  But some things a girl just couldn’t let go, and as anxious as she was to start their life together, Ellie realized she wanted her wedding day to be a little more than ten minutes in a government building. “I want a wedding, Jack. Doesn’t have to be a big one, but I want our families there.” Lifting her head, she turned to face her mother. “And those bouquets you were talking about sound pretty.”

  Gayle gave her a tremulous smile. Ellie wiped away another tear, only to see that her mother and sister were looking more than a little misty-eyed. But not Grandma Bernadette.

  Raring to go, she leaned forward in her seat, darting a glance at each family member. “Are we all going to Jamaica, then?”

  Wrinkling her nose, Ellie turned back to Jack. “Jamaica?”

  “First island I thought of,” he answered with a shrug. When she snorted, he held up his hands in surrender. “I had to think on my feet. They were all over me.”

  “Poor baby.”

  He laughed and pulled her close again, burying his face in the curve of her neck. “Pick a destination, any destination. Either way, we’re getting married before the new year.”

  Taking Off

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve started our final descent into St. Louis Lambert International Airport. At this time, we ask that you return your seat backs and tray tables to their full upright and locked position. Flight attendants will be passing through the cabin to collect any cups, newspapers, or other items. We know you have choices when you travel and we thank you for choosing to fly with us today. Happy holidays and welcome to St. Louis.”

  Ellie pressed the button at the in
side of her armrest, but her seat back didn’t move. She jammed her thumb into it again, a scowl of annoyance dragging down the corners of her mouth. As if to counteract her disapproval, Jack’s lips twisted upwards in a knowing smile. Gold-tipped eyelashes lowered then rose again in a lazy blink. He covered her hand with his, gently coaxing her finger from the much-abused button.

  “Your seat is up,” he murmured.

  A hot wash of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. Pushing her temple to the headrest, she returned his steady stare. “Why aren’t you nervous?”

  That little hint of a smile exploded into a full-fledged grin. His fingers wrapped snug around hers and he pulled her hand to his mouth. She could feel the imprint of the happy kiss long after he lowered their joined hands to his thigh. Hard muscle tensed beneath denim.

  “I have no reason to be nervous. I’m getting exactly what I want. Nothing as clichéd as a Christmas Eve snowstorm is going to keep this from happening.”

  Ellie couldn’t stifle the smug smile. There was something so damn sexy about Determined Jack, and soon Mr. IgetwhatIwant was going to get exactly what he asked for. And more. “I hope we make our connecting flight.”

  “We’ll make it.”

  Her stomach tightened into a knot of anticipation, but the easy assurance in his smile quickly unraveled it. Their connecting flight didn’t leave for another twelve and a half hours, but that didn’t detract from the fact that Confident Jack was maybe a notch below Determined Jack on the sexiness scale. He treated her to another one of those slow, measuring blinks and she narrowed the margin on that notch just a tad. If he trotted out Assertive Jack before the landing gear was down, it would take a small army of Air Marshalls to pull her off him.

  “Eleanor.”

  As she had since she was a child, Ellie stiffened momentarily. Heaving a put-upon sigh, she pressed her heel to the floor and craned her neck to peer over the top of the seat. Grandma Bernadette snored like a freight train, her fuchsia-painted lips wide open. Across the aisle from her parents, Ellie’s sister, Laurie, snickered as she cuddled her son close. Her father sank a little deeper into his seat, obviously wishing he could take cover far, far away.

  “Yes, Mom?”

  Her tone didn’t quite reach the level of snide she’d perfected in her adolescence, but it wasn’t too far off the mark. She chose to ignore Jack’s chuckle as she waited not so patiently for her mother’s latest directive.

  “Is your seatbelt fastened tight?”

  If it weren’t for the patent sincerity in Gayle Nichols’ worried gaze she might have snapped. Ellie shared a conspiratorial glance with her father. Despite being silent as ever, Marcus Nichols had a knack for reminding his impatient daughter that she now shared a kind of super-secret-solidarity with the woman who gave her life. Pressing her hand to her stomach, she tapped that little glimmer of understanding for the patience she needed.

  “It’s all good, Ma.”

  Jack’s hand covered hers again before she settled back into her seat. He laced their fingers, and the cocky smile he usually wore melted into the awed bewilderment that seemed to have taken him over.

  “I love it when you do that,” he confessed, his voice deep and whiskey-rough.

  “Refrain from strangling my mother?”

  “Protect our baby.”

  “I have to. Her grandparents are lunatics,” she added in a whisper.

  “His grandparents happen to love his mother. Since I do too, I see nothing wrong with that.”

  “I’m telling you, I think she’s a girl,” Ellie insisted.

  “I think that’s just indigestion.”

  Her smile came slow. She let it unfurl with the surety of a woman who knows her sentiments will not only be welcomed but returned wholeheartedly. “I love you.”

  He raised his hand to trail a knuckle along the curve of her cheek. “I remember the first time I saw you. I knew right then,” he asserted. “I knew you were the girl for me, El.”

  “We’re really going to do this?”

  “We are,” he answered without hesitation.

  The landing gear on the seven-thirty-seven dropped into place just in time to spare Assertive Jack the humiliation of having his fiancée forcibly pried off him. Still, he spoke those two words with enough power and conviction to squash the nerves simmering in her gut.

  Pressing her cheek to the rough upholstery, she stared deep into the bittersweet chocolate eyes she loved so well. “Tell me.”

  His smile crept across his face. It was a rogue’s smile saved from utter devilishness by the sparkle of warmth and humor in his eyes. He cupped her cheek in his palm then slipped the tips of his fingers into her hair. The whorls of his thumb rasped her jaw. Hints of a southern drawl slurred the edges of his voice and blurred her senses.

  “I have to admit, the boots were the first thing to catch my attention,” he confessed.

  She stretched her legs out, preening in the seat enough to show off the tall leather boots she wore to her best advantage. Widening her eyes, she fixed him with a guileless stare. “These boots?”

  Jack smirked but refused to take the bait. “I remember thinking you were no bigger than an elf.”

  Peeved by his unshakable reserve, she shot him a sidelong glance. “And your freakish fetish was revealed.”

  “Your sweater was kind of clingy. I followed you like a dog on a leash.”

  “You were a dog…Trying to score with innocent, unsuspecting women on Christmas Eve.” She tsked and shook her head then pinned him with a grin. “For shame.”

  “I know.” He flashed a rueful grin. “My mother would be ashamed.”

  “I’ll never tell.”

  “I remember standing behind you in line, staring at the birthmark behind your ear.” His expression took a decidedly wicked turn. “If ever there was a reason to develop a fetish….”

  Jack waggled his eyebrows and finished the thought with a leer so goofy she couldn’t help but giggle. “My parents are right behind us.”

  He grimaced and lowered his hand to her hip as the plane touched down with a hard bump. She smiled at the protective gesture. Her Jack wasn’t about to trust her safety and the health of their unborn child to a mere nylon strap.

  He relaxed back into his seat as they began to taxi but never quite relinquished his hold on her as he peered out the tiny window. “My mom should be waiting at the gate.”

  “I feel horrible.”

  Jack’s forehead immediately puckered with concern. “Nauseous?”

  “Guilty.”

  Worry gave way to confusion. “Why?”

  “Making everyone travel at Christmas.”

  “Yeah, you’re really selfish, making everyone go to Aruba for a week.”

  “It’s Christmas,” she retorted. “People have traditions and stuff.”

  “It’s one Christmas out of a lifetime. I think they’re okay with the plan.”

  “My mother isn’t okay with the plan,” she reminded him.

  “She will be. Once she sees that everything is the way it should be, she’ll be fine.”

  Glancing at the waiting Jetway as the plane approached the gate, she gnawed her bottom lip. “Do you think we’ll have enough time?”

  “Elfie, we have plenty of time.”

  Heartened by his words, she popped the latch on her seatbelt the moment the plane jolted to a stop and burrowed into the crook of his neck. “Way to guide the sleigh, Rudolph.”

  He hugged her tight as their fellow passengers surged into the narrow aisle. “Anything for my jolly little elf.”

  ****

  Jack watched in awe as his mother skillfully derailed Ellie’s mother’s litany of worry within minutes of arrival. After being stuck in the terminal for hours, he knew his mom had the lay of the land, and from the furtive conversations they’d shared, he was also certain she had his plans well in hand, despite a hiccup or two.

  First, there was the mystery of Grandma Bernadette’s missing dentures. The gleaming set of c
hompers was finally located in the frost-crusted freezer, and Jack was too happy to be on his way at last to conduct an in-depth investigation as to the hows and whys. Then, their flight’s departure was delayed for two hours by the most harmless looking snow flurries a frustrated man had ever seen. But he managed to hold it together. Just barely.

  Jack credited his mother for his ability to maintain an outward façade of calm when his insides were throwing a full-on temper tantrum. Aside from teasing him about being a magnet for Christmas Eve snowstorms, his mother handled the hitch with her usual aplomb, so naturally he could do no less. Joan Rudolph was a woman who’d lived her entire adult life thinking on her feet. Once upon a time, she’d been a young widow with a needy boy clinging to her leg. Every lesson Jack ever learned about grit, drive, and determination, he learned from the woman wearing an LED-lit snowman sweater.

  “Where are we going?”

  He caught the tail end of Gayle Nichols’ question as his mother led them past gate after gate. Joan ignored it with cheerful oblivion, a one-woman Pied Piper dead set on leading her merry band of misfits to the far end of the gate area. Just as he planned.

  “Where are we going?”

  Ellie echoed her mother’s query but in a voice pitched so warm and husky he didn’t need to glance down to know she was reliving those magical hours they spent huddled together in those painfully uncomfortable chairs. This time last Christmas, they were trapped in this terminal by a roaring snowstorm. As the waning hours of the night gave way to the wee hours of the morning, the teasing and testing that marked those first conversations gave way to whispers, secrets, and the right amount of embarrassing drool.

  Oh, and a kiss.

  The kiss that changed his life irrevocably.

  Jack stopped and his fingers closed around her elbow firmly enough to draw Ellie to a halt as their families trundled down the concourse without them. He cast a cautious glance at his soon-to-be brother-in-law Matt while he strode through the crowd with Ellie’s sister at his side and their son sleeping soundly against his shoulder. Soon, that would be him. And Ellie. Them. That is, if he didn’t blow it all to high heaven with this cockamamie plan he’d cooked up.