A Baby In His Stocking
Hayley Gardner
HERO OF THE HOLIDAYSBah, humbug! Some Scrooge was sabotaging the season of joy. Making mincemeat of Shea Burroughs's merriness. And the only man who could save the day was Jared Burroughs, Shea's beloved–estranged–husband. Shea hungered to have Jared home for the holidays. But how to tell love-leary Jared that he'd already given her the best Christmas present ever: a baby-to-be!Trouble was, rugged Jared was terrified of tots. Fearful of fatherhood. And certain the only thing he could give Shea was her freedom. Clearly, Shea needed a little help from Santa to convince Jared to be the hero of her holidays…and the daddy of her dreams!
If Shea could just show Jared just what he’d been missing— (#u43ec1288-c4fa-518a-bb24-9290f61c14cb)Letter to Reader (#u2d0ff6f5-e385-55b1-80d2-f30442c2f2c7)Title Page (#u99d45953-d0c4-5966-9402-2dda28e55fa4)Dedication (#u3fbe7e2f-e2d0-5522-ae83-960566f3accd)About the Author (#u7b26bd04-f3de-5122-a598-bf5486038b35)Chapter One (#uf779e1b6-5a8a-5ee3-b6ff-dbdb23b2718d)Chapter Two (#u6955e46c-066f-5f5d-8d16-dec964af8a3e)Chapter Three (#u667ce9c4-46bb-5527-9fa4-5fb1834533f0)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
If Shea could just show Jared just what he’d been missing—
the warmth, spirit and traditions of a Christmas in Quiet Brook, as well as the fun—maybe she could get him to understand where she’d been coming from. He might even feel some of the things she did about close family ties and loving relationships, and then be in a better position to enjoy his child when it came.
She interlaced her fingers and gazed down at her tummy. With Jared wanting to let her go, it wouldn’t be easy, but somewhere inside her, a tiny bit of hope curled right next to her baby somewhere under her heart....
Dear Reader,
Happy Holidays! Our gift to you is all the very best Romance has to offer, starting with A Kiss, a Kid and a Mistletoe Bride by RITA-Award winning author Lindsay Longford. In this VIRGIN BRIDES title, when a single dad returns home at Christmas, he encounters the golden girl he’d fallen for one magical night a lifetime ago. Can his kiss—and his kid—win her heart and make her a mistletoe mom?
Rising star Susan Meier continues her TEXAS FAMILY TIES miniseries with Guess What? We’re Married! And no one is more shocked than the amnesiac bride in this sexy, surprising story! In The Rich Gal’s Rented Groom, the next sparkling installment of Carolyn Zane’s THE BRUBAKER BRIDES, a ragged ranch hand poses as Patsy Brubaker’s husband at her ten-year high school reunion. But fhis gal voted Most Likely To Succeed won’t rest till she wins her counterfeit hubby’s heart! BUNDLES OF JOY meets BACHELOR GULCH in a fairy-tale romance by beloved author Sandra Steffen. When a shy beauty is about to accept another man’s proposal, her true-blue true love returns to town, bearing Burke’s Christmas Surprise.
Who wouldn’t want to be Stranded with a Tall, Dark Stranger—especially an embittered ex-cop in need of a good woman’s love? Laura Anthony’s tale of transformation is perfect for the holidays! And speaking of transformations... Hayley Gardner weaves an adorable, uplifting tale of a Grinch-like hero who becomes a Santa Claus daddy when he receives A Baby in His Stocking.
And in the New Year, look for our fabulous new promohon FAMILY MATTERS and Romance’s first-ever six-book continuity series, LOVING THE BOSS, in which office romance leads six friends down the aisle.
Happy Holidays!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
A Baby In His Stocking
Hayley Gardner
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To people who are there for others, like Jennifer S.,
and the whole Aut-2B-Home E-mail group.
I don’t know what I would do without you!
Thank you.
HAYLEY GARDNER
While the teachers lectured, Hayley used to sit in high school history classes and write romances in her notebook instead of notes. That turned out just fine, because she could always study the textbooks, and the teachers always thought she was their most conscientious student who took down every word they said!
Now, years later, she is thrilled to be following her dream of full-time writing—when she isn’t homeschooling her son, that is. Any free time Hayley has is spent with her husband or researching methods of teaching children with autism or collecting dolls or knitting or taking long, deep breaths... and hoping her readers enjoy her efforts to make them smile and feel good about love.
Chapter One
In her office at the department store owned by her family, Shea Denton Burroughs dropped the telephone receiver into its cradle and leaned back in her executive chair, the breath knocked out of her. To suspect having a baby was one thing—to have it confirmed was another.
For a few seconds, she let herself be wrapped up in the warmth of the love she was feeling for her baby-to-be. Boy or girl, it would have a life in her small hometown filled with the tranquillity, love and laughter that she’d always wanted for her children—a perfect life, just like her own.
Perfect in every way except one, she thought, tears misting her eyes. Her baby’s father wouldn’t want it.
“Don’t be sad,” a child’s voice said brightly from the doorway. “It’s Christmastime!”
Straightening at the sight of a sandy-haired girl about four years old, Shea hurriedly dabbed at the corners of her eyes. In Denton’s department store, family was tops and kids usually had free rein, so a child loose in the office wing didn’t surprise her at all. In fact, at this point, the diversion was welcome.
“I’m okay, really,” Shea said, smiling warmly at the child’s concern. “Who might you be?”
“Santa’s helper,” the girl said.
“I’m glad to meet you.” Shea was. The girl’s reply and the beaming smile on her heart-shaped face positively charmed Shea. “I could use some help from Santa right about now.”
“I’ll tell him,” the child promised, nodding solemnly. “But he’ll need to know your name.”
“It’s Shea Burroughs.” Widening her smile a little, Shea added, “Could you also please let him know I’ve been a very good girl all year?”
The little sweetheart giggled. Still smiling, Shea bent over to get a candy cane out of her desk drawer. But when she looked up, the treat in hand, the girl was gone. Shea rose and went to check the hallway, but the tyke, one of the very few in the small town of Quiet Brook whom she did not know, was scurrying down the hall toward the escalators.
Santa’s helper. Smiling at the thought of the day when her own little baby would come up with adorable answers like that one, Shea returned to her desk, sank into her chair and dropped the candy cane back into the drawer.
Frowning, she began writing a list of what the baby would need, but she wasn’t really seeing the words. She would have to tell Jared about the baby, and she wasn’t looking forward to it. In a little over a week, she’d be getting a divorce from the man who had turned from the husband of her dreams into someone cool and distant she no longer knew—a change that had started when she’d made the mistake of wanting a baby too soon.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t told him before they were married that she wanted children. She had. She’d also told him she dreamed of raising her babies in her own hometown, where they would have traditions and values and a grandpa—her dad—who would love them just as her granddad had loved her. Jared had just nodded and said in a couple of years they might be ready. She’d said she would wait.
But last December, when her dad admitted to having heart problems, Shea had remembered the way her own granddad had died unexpectedly right in front of her. She’d known then there was no time to waste in starting the perfect life she’d planned. So on Christmas Day she’d asked Jared for a baby.
He’d said no, he wasn’t ready yet, and that had been the beginning of the end. The more she’d tried to persuade him, the more distant he’d become. Finally, he’d admitted he wasn’t the paternal type and doubted that he would ever be. It was in April, when she told him she wanted to get away by herself for a while to think things over, that he’d announced he was letting her go so she could find someone else who could make her happy with the life and children she wanted so badly.
They’d remained apart until three months ago, when, on their first wedding anniversary in late September, she’d wanted to at least try a reconciliation. Drawn by need, they’d gotten only as far as the bedroom. The morning after, when she tried to talk to him about children, he’d told her nothing had changed. He was still letting her go. She could fall in love with someone else and have the perfect, fairy-tale life she’d always dreamed of. So she’d filed for divorce.
He might be letting her go, she thought, but he was crazy if he thought she would ever fall in love again. She had picked the perfect man for herself the first time, dang it, and having it end between them had just hurt too much. Especially now. The love she had felt had finally given her the child she always wanted, but not the man. With a sigh, she stared down at her list and continued writing.
A slight sound at the door made her look up, expecting to see her little Santa’s helper, or her father, or one of the clerks downstairs. The person she didn’t expect to see was Jared.
Shea stared at him, trying to gather her wits. He lived an hour away in Topeka—so what in the world was he doing here?
Shea looked shocked, Jared thought as he stared at her wordlessly. He’d been sent up to her office with a message, but for the life of him, he couldn’t find his voice. The second he’d seen her again, his throat had gone dry and tight. He was dying of thirst and she was water, only he couldn’t partake anymore. He’d given up that right to let her find the happiness she yearned for.
“How have you been, Shea?” he asked. He knew her father had gone into semiretirement and allowed her to take over the management of the store she loved so much after she’d returned to Quiet Brook last April. “Still running the place?”
“For now.” Shea could see that Jared was watching her every movement, but she had no idea what thoughts lay behind those dark blue eyes. She never had, she realized suddenly. From the second Jared, a former Quiet Brook cop, had stopped a thief from stealing the store’s receipts and hurting her dad, she’d fallen in love with him, but she’d never really known the man.
She’d been living the fantasy she’d always dreamed of.
“What can I do for you, Jared?” she asked, wanting him gone so she could have a peaceful Christmas to recover from the hurt of their breakup.
“Your father asked me to come get you. Said there’s new trouble at the Santa Station. Seems Santa is sneezing and the Grinch has probably struck again. He needs you down there.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Shea hastened toward the doorway, expecting him to move out of her way. Perfectly in tune with her movements, he did, letting her slip through, then falling into step beside her. “You should have told me about Dad first thing,” she scolded, all too aware of the riotous feelings his presence was evoking in her body now that she wasn’t ten feet away from him. But she’d be a fool if she gave in to pure lust again. It wouldn’t melt Jared’s ice-cold heart.
“I didn’t because you seemed preoccupied,” Jared returned. “Just like you seem right now.”
With the news of the baby, she thought. She gave him a curious glance. He had a dusky five o’clock shadow she’d never seen him wear before. It lent a sexiness to the chiseled lines of his face, a haunted cast to his eyes.
As he returned her look, she imagined she saw a flicker of vulnerability in his blue gaze. But then it was gone, and she knew it had just been a romantic notion on her part. Jared Burroughs would let himself be vulnerable at the same moment that the Grinch became Santa Claus. He had always been very much in control of his emotions, even when she had walked out on him. He could be warm, she knew that, but there seemed to be some level of feeling that he just wasn’t able to reach.
“So what’s all this about a Grinch?” Jared asked. “Wasn’t that some Christmas legend?”
Stepping onto the escalator, Shea grabbed the black grip for balance. “Some prankster has been trying to drive off our store Santas with practical jokes.”
“Why is having a Santa so important?”
Surely that was obvious, she thought. But since he’d asked, she told him. “Mack and I put some of our money into renovations this year, counting on the normally huge Christmas sales to make up the difference. But without Santa, a lot of families are driving the extra half hour to the mall for the sake of the kids and spending their money there.” She stepped off the escalator. “We can’t let Denton’s get into serious financial trouble, Jared.”
Which was an understatement. They already were. The truth was, Denton’s would go under if it didn’t have a total turnaround in business, and fast And if Denton’s failed, Shea would lose the job that she loved and wanted, needed to keep. She didn’t want her fantasy to fade any more than it already had—for her baby’s sake.
A nd for her father’s, Mack’s, sake, too. The store had been in the family for three generations, four if you counted her, and she didn’t think her father could handle losing it—and neither could she. She needed the store just the way she needed Quiet Brook, the sleepy little town they lived in, to recover from the heartache of her failed marriage.
All too fully aware that Jared was trailing her through the maze of counters and aisle dividers filled with Christmas toys, she just barely missed being hit by a shopping cart when she rounded another holiday display. Stopping suddenly, she felt Jared bump into her from behind.
The physical contact between them left her warm and wishful, two feelings she couldn’t afford to associate with Jared, and she blinked hard as she waited until the customer went by. When she looked up again, Jared was watching her with a frown on his face.
He was sticking to her like gum to the bottom of a shoe, and she didn’t want him to. “My fault,” she said stiffly, through a throat that had seized up tightly. “Sorry.”
“Don’t let my presence put you in a tizzy, Shea. I’ll be gone soon enough.”
“The door is straight down that aisle,” she said, pointing toward it. “I have a Grinch I have to catch.”
A sneeze that had to have blown down at least one wall assaulted Shea’s eardrums, and hurrying once again, she took a shortcut between the branches of two six-foot Christmas trees bedecked with red ribbons and lots of tinsel. A couple of seconds later, Jared muttered behind her, “Who thought up this danged holiday anyway!”
She. didn’t want to turn around, but then she heard the smacking sounds of what were probably, judging from the fact that decorated trees were in the aisle, ornaments hitting the floor.
Let them be the wooden ones, she begged Jared silently, only to hear his lowly uttered, “Damn!”
That did it. Turning to survey the damage, she frowned at Jared. Broad shouldered as he was, his following her through the closely placed trees had caused several ornaments to fall. He was kneeling, trying to hook a wooden rocking horse back into place, a funny, pathetic look on his face that tugged at her heartstrings.
As he leaned down, a branch smacked against his cheek. He shoved it out of the way; it hit him again. Feeling sorry for him, she went to his side and helped put the fallen ornaments back on the tree. Clearing the way, she watched as he pushed himself free with a sigh of relief.
“It’s just not your holiday, is it, Jared?” she quipped, finally letting the tiniest of smiles touch her lips.
“Nope,” he said. “I’m a Fourth-of July type myself. Lots of fireworks.” Reaching up, he trailed his finger along her cheek. “If I remember right, you loved them, too.”
His words and his touch were filled with double meaning, which only confused her. Drawing back, she looked at him with troubled eyes. “Fireworks are the last thing I want around here in the middle of my Christmas,” she told him sadly.
His warm gaze met her eyes.
“As far as I’m concerned,” she added in a manner she hoped would leave no doubt in his mind exactly where they stood, “I’ve sworn off the Fourth of July. No fireworks—not even a sparkler. Never, ever again.”
He stared at her for a long minute. “So why am I here, I wonder?”
She made a gesture of bewilderment. “Dad has some silly last-minute idea of reuniting us?”
“He’d know better than that, wouldn’t he?”
“Would he?” she asked.
The question hung in the air between them until a loud voice boomed from not too far away in the direction she was supposed to be heading.
“No, Mack, sorry,” the deep voice reverberated. “I’m quitting, and no one can stop me.”
“Oh, sheesh,” Shea said, turning her head toward the sound. “That’s our Santa. Dad’s waiting for the cavalry and here I am playing around with you!” Throwing up her hands in disgust, she rushed forward down the aisle, throwing a quick smile down at the same little sandy-haired girl she’d seen earlier as she dodged around her.
“I wouldn’t call what we were doing playing around,” Jared corrected, keeping up. “I remember really playing around with you—and it was a lot more fun than I’ve been having in the past ten minutes.”
With his talking like that, Shea was totally unable to concentrate on the argument Santa was having with her father.
“That’s not fair, Jared,” she told him as they passed the gift-wrapping section. “The minute I get ready to divorce you, you suddenly find your sense of humor again.”
“Missed it, did you?”
Yeah, she had. They used to laugh a lot over little things before last Christmas. After that, well, they’d stopped laughing. The thought made her hurt all over again, and her words came out a little more tersely than she wanted them to.
“Just go away, would you?” They were approaching the double line of children and the few adults who were waiting to see Santa, but who were being treated instead to a show of Santa and her father arguing about Santa’s flying the coop. “I’ve already spent too much time worrying about you when I should have been worrying about Dad. His chest pains are nothing to sneeze at, you know.”
With a suddenness that caught her off guard, Jared’s hand covered her shoulder. She stopped dead in her tracks. His hand felt warm through the wool of her green-and-tinsel-knit pullover, and she missed his touch so much. Not only his touch—everything about him. Having him there when she came home every night. His smiles over coffee in the morning. Loving him.
Gazing up into his eyes, she wished she could have her happy life back again, and for a long minute, Jared looked as if he was wishing that, too. But she knew in her heart they were fooling themselves. Without his loving and being a wonderful father to their child, without his wanting the same things as she did in life, she wouldn’t be happy, and he’d been right to let her go.
“What chest pains, Shea?” he asked quietly.
Her heart twisted. Jared was never effusive about his feelings, but from the solemn way he spoke now, she could sense how fond he was of Mack—and how worried about him he was.
Two ladies with their shopping carts were quickly approaching them, so, grabbing his jacket sleeve, Shea pulled him out of their way and into a side aisle between counters piled high with foil-wrapped Christmas candies and chocolate Santas. She was in a hurry to get to her father, but she thought this was something Jared needed to know.
“Dad started having heart problems a little over a year ago, and he had a scare back in May.” Since she’d already left Jared by then and had been considering filing for the divorce, she hadn’t felt much like turning to Jared at the time even though she had known he would come if she called. “You two have been on a fishing trip or two since then—I’m surprised he never told you.”
“We talk about fish during our fishing trips,” Jared told her. “Not anything personal.”
“How do men survive?” she asked, her lips parting in a wry smile.
“You have a point.” Jared took a step forward. He was so close now she could smell his aftershave and feel his body heat. “Maybe we should start.”
“Start what?” she asked, feeling breathless and fidgety at his nearness.
“Start talking to each other.”
For one long moment, she held her breath. Then, with a sinking heart, she realized what he’d meant. “You and Mack should, you mean.”
His dark brown eyebrows rose in question. “Of course. Whom did you think I meant?”
“Never mind.”
“Just how serious is his condition?” he asked, the confusion on his face gradually turning back into concern.
“He’s been holding his own for months, but the doctor said no more stress and that he needed to step down from management of Denton’s. That’s why I took over here.” Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Jared. I thought Mack had told you, or I would never have blurted it out that way.”
“I know that.” He did, Jared thought. And he also knew Shea would tell him if his friend was really in a bad way. So he pushed his concern aside for the moment
“Dad’s going to be fine with me watching out for him. Don’t give it another thought, okay?”
He heard the compassion in Shea’s voice and could feel himself begin to melt as he stood there, looking down into her evergreen eyes. For a few seconds, as he tried to keep himself from pulling her into his arms, it felt like the two of them were the only people in the store.
In the world.
“I’d forgotten how much you could care about people,” he said. And he’d forgotten how good it made him feel to have her care about him. No, maybe he hadn’t. He’d just pushed it to the back of his mind, the same place he pushed everything about Shea so he’d be able to manage without her.
Jared’s words sent a soothing warmth through her, a wistful reminder of the way things used to be, and Shea almost smiled back up at him. But then she remembered they were getting a divorce, and she was having the baby he would never want, and she couldn’t smile anymore.
Why had her father invited the man here anyway? What could he have been thinking of? All Jared’s presence was going to do was bring back these yearnings that she didn’t need right now.
“I know it would be easier if I wasn’t here—” Jared stopped short. He’d almost called her “hon.” He wanted to call her that. But he didn’t know how to make the hurt that was still between them go away, short of giving in to what Shea wanted—a family. And he knew with all his heart that his becoming a father would be a disaster. She was waiting for him to continue, so he drew a breath. “But I’m not leaving until I see your father.”
“Then please wait in Dad’s office for him. I’ll send him up there as soon as I can.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Of course. The way things have been going around here, the only direction left for anyone is up.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Jared said in total agreement. Finally turning, he left her alone, and she dove into the crowd.
Her father, by inviting Jared here, had created yet another problem for her, Shea thought, trying to get irritated with Mack so she wouldn’t break down and cry about Jared. After she worked on their current Santa to persuade him to stay on, she’d get after her father to see what was going through his mind in reference to her soon-to-be-divorced husband. And she was not looking forward to it. Her dad was almost as big a handful as Jared. No, bigger. Her dad would not retreat into silence.
As Shea threaded through the kids and their moms to reach her dad and Mr. Whitney—Santa—she smiled her best public-relations smile and glanced around. All she saw were the familiar faces of her neighbors, friends and regular customers who sat nearby in the snack section watching the “fun.” Surely none of them could be playing these little practical jokes on their Santas?
The mischief had started when someone had sprinkled itching powder throughout the first Santa’s suit, causing an allergic reaction that had forced the poor man into retirement. With their second recruit, it had been fake snakes and a real mouse inside the Santa sack that was supposed to hold holiday giveaways. That St. Nick had run back to the North Pole with his reindeer—at least so she assumed, because he never returned to the store. And now, with Mr. Whitney, she could only imagine the worst had happened.
Upon seeing her, her father ran his hand through his thick salt-and-pepper hair in what looked like a gesture of relief, then grinned at the man in the red velvet suit who was standing at the bottom of the Santa Station’s off-ramp. “Now, Santa, here’s Shea. She’ll explain why you can’t quit.”
She frowned at Mack. “You look far too happy to see me. Don’t be.”
To her irritation, her dad seemed to grasp she was referring to Jared and grinned even wider, as though he was quite pleased with himself. With a glance at the crowd, he said jovially, “So my Christmas present made it to your doorstep, did it?”
“I’m returning it.”
“We’ll see.”
“No, we won’t.”
“I want to see Santa!” one of the boys yelled suddenly from the line. He was immediately shushed by his mother but she was too late. A clamor went up from more restless kids.
“I’ll deal with you later,” Shea promised her father, pushing wayward wisps of black hair behind her ear. “Go talk to Jared. He’s waiting in your office.” Looking thankful for the opportunity to escape, her father turned away. Before he could scoot entirely out of sight, she caught his arm and added, “Get rid of him, Dad.”
One more devilish grin, and her father was gone, leaving every muscle in her body tight with tension. With that look, Mack would probably be inviting Jared for Christmas dinner, and she would be the turkey.
At least Mack wasn’t stressed. If he was stressed, then she would have to worry.
Santa started sneezing again. Shifting her stiff shoulders, Shea began damage control and tried not to think about Jared and their pending divorce or how she really should tell him about their baby—or what, exactly, her father had in store for them. Whatever it was, Mack wouldn’t have a chance to carry his plan through because Jared was one Christmas present she was never unwrapping.
Chapter Two
In the end, nothing—not talking, not cajoling, not out and out bribing—could convince Santa to stay. Dog tired, upset for the disappointed kids who had to leave without seeing Santa and unwilling to face Jared again, Shea decided to postpone the confrontation she’d planned with her father and head home to put up her feet for a while.
Definitely not wanting to think about Jared’s being in the same town with her, as she drove the short distance home, Shea tried to focus on how she was going to find a new Santa. Mack had volunteered for the job, but as his daughter and the store’s manager, she’d already vetoed that idea. Dealing with children all day would undoubtedly wear Mack out.
Instead, she’d given her father the job of finding another Santa, which had proven difficult the first time, what with the word out about the practical joker. Really, she had no idea what they could do now for a Santa.
Sighing, she turned into the backyard driveway, got out and opened the garage door. Her heart sped up as she spotted Mack’s truck in the second slot in the garage. He’d come home, too. If he’d brought Jared...
He hadn’t. She found Mack all alone at the desk in his study, paying the bills under the glow of a lamp that had been a present from her mom a long time ago. The lampshade was yellowing, but it still had the gaily swinging fringe at the bottom, and her father refused to get rid of it. Shea had longed for a marriage like that, where the caring and the good memories never stopped. She’d almost had it—until she’d wanted more than Jared could give. Give emotionally anyway, she corrected inwardly. He had given her the baby.
“I hope your playmate has gone home,” she said, setting her purse on a side table.
“You’re sounding more like your mother every day,” Mack said, grinning up at her.
“That’s good, right?” Leaning over, she kissed him on the forehead, then lowered herself into her father’s black leather easy chair. “But compliments and evading the subject will get you nowhere.”
“Oh, we can get to Jared in a minute.” Waving his hand in dismissal, Mack swiveled in his chair to face her. “First, the most important thing—how did it turn out with old Santa?”
She sighed deeply, which said it all.
“You think it was the Grinch again, too, huh?” Mack asked.
Nodding, she kicked off her loafers and buried her stockinged toes in the golden rug. “It had to be. We found a container of some of that gag-gift sneezing powder we sell, and the nearest I can figure out, it was sprinkled on Mr. Whitney’s Santa beard. As soon as he stopped sneezing, he said it was obvious someone had a warped sense of humor at Denton’s, and he wasn’t spending another minute waiting around for the next joke, ’cause they weren’t funny.”
The corners of Mack’s mouth curled slightly upward. “I always said that old geezer didn’t have a sense of humor.”
“Dad!” she scolded, but she was smiling, too. “Just remember, I don’t want you to get stressed out over this.” With faked optimism, she added, “We’ll find another Santa, and we’ll get that Grinch.”
“Dam tootin’.” Her father’s grin seemed awfully smug and self-assured to Shea. “I’ve got it all under control.”
“You do?” Her eyes narrowed as he rolled his chair back to his desk, picked up his pen and resumed writing in his check ledger. “How is that possible—for you to have found a solution already?”
Her father turned just enough to grin at her again. The twinkling in his eyes seemed magical, with an extra sparkle that came from goodness only knew where. She hadn’t seen him looking this happy in weeks. But instead of being comforted, the twinkle, along with his almost Cheshire-cat look, made her feel wary.
And then she knew. She actually knew. She wasn’t her father’s daughter for nothing. Her mouth fell open. “You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.”
“Of course I would.” Mack returned to his checkbook. “I’m sure Jared will help us find the Grinch.”
Nerves began jumping in protest all through her body. Pushing herself out of the chair, Shea walked the length of the room and back again, shaking her head in disbelief. To have to face Jared for the next week or so as the divorce crept up on them like her own personal Ghost of Christmas Future—no thanks. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t.
“Jared won’t stay here,” she told her father’s back in a soft tone. Jared wouldn’t want to face her every day until the divorce went through, either. “Has he actually said yes?”
“Well, to be honest,” Mack said, still scribbling, “I haven’t asked him yet. I told him to get something to eat since I had to pay some bills first before I talked to him. He’s due here shortly.” Pausing, Mack glanced up at her, then gave her an amused stare. “From the way you’re looking at me, you want either to change my mind or wring my neck. Have at it.”
“Dad,” she said, her voice serious, “this is not a joke. This is my life. You are not going to ask him to stay in Quiet Brook. I don’t want him here.”
“You might not, but the store needs him,” Mack said. “He’s a private detective, remember? When he finds the Grinch, all our problems will be solved.”
Shea closed her eyes. Of course she remembered. Jared had quit the force when her father had found out that Jared’s dream was to open his own detective agency and had lent him the money. He’d already paid back the loan shortly before Christmas last year, and that had been one of the times she’d actually seen him celebrate something. He’d been so happy.
She sighed. It was time to put her foot down where her father was concerned. “You aren’t harboring some hopes that he and I will mend our differences, are you?”
“Even if it is Christmas,” Mack replied, then paused to lick the flap of an envelope, “heaven forbid I should waste my time wishing for that kind of miracle.”
She knew what he meant Feeling very tired, she sank back into the easy chair.
“Really, Shea, who better to find this troublemaker and give us back our storybook Christmas than Quiet Brook’s former hero?”
He was referring to the time when Jared had caught their store’s thief. Even so... “Jared and storybook Christmas do not belong in the same sentence. He finds Christmas painful.”
Mack frowned. “He told you that?”
“Let’s just say he made it clear that he wasn’t interested in Christmas trees or Christmas Eve dinners.” Or traditions or life in a small town.
“Maybe if he had all the fun of a Christmas in Quiet Brook, he would be,” Mack said almost gently, then rose to carry his mail out of the room.
Shea doubted that. Jared had already told her he just didn’t see the purpose of going through it all because Christmas was for kids—which he never wanted to have.
But now he would have to face that, willing or not, his child was on the way. She stared, unseeing, at the doorway. How on earth was she going to break it to him? And what would he do? Run?
“A candy cane for your thoughts,” her father said, startling her. Taking the sweet, she twirled it around in her fingers but didn’t tell him what she’d been thinking in return. She couldn’t tell Mack about the baby until she told Jared. Because Mack would ask if she had. Boy, would he ask. If she procrastinated, her father might even think it was his personal responsibility to tell Jared himself. He was that kind of man.
She couldn’t let that happen. No matter how things were between her and Jared, the news that he was going to be a father after all had to come from her, face-to-face. She supposed she would have to tell him while he was here now, however she dearly wanted to tell Mack he was going to be a grandfather as a Christmas present, and Christmas was less than two weeks away.
“So, Shea, I can count on you working with Jared to find the Grinch?”
Working with Jared? Wasn’t it bad enough the man was going to be in the same town? She gazed at her father, then down at the rug to hide her confusion. Could she be around the cool, indifferent man Jared had become for days, knowing that he didn’t care enough about her to try to change for the sake of love?
It hurt too much, and she didn’t want that hurt intermingling with her joy about the baby. She drew in a long breath. “I don’t want him here, Dad.”
“Hmm,” Mack said, his weathered forehead wrinkling. “Well, sweetheart, I’m going to have to overrule you here. You might manage the store, but I still own it. If you don’t cooperate with me, I’ll just lay you off for the whole time Jared’s here. Then you won’t have to deal with him.”
“So you’re saying if I cooperate, I have to be around Jared, and if I don’t cooperate, I lose my job?” Her mouth pursed as she was caught between amusement and just a little bit of exasperation at how easily he had boxed her in. “I hate you when you act like a boss.” Only half-teasing, she added, “And like an interfering old—”
“Keep it up,” Mack warned, “and I’ll lay you off indefinitely.”
Under her breath, she groaned. She couldn’t lose this job. She was all set to give her child the perfect life she’d had growing up in Quiet Brook—-except for the father part of it, she guessed. But more important than that, she couldn’t let her father fire her because he would take her place. If he resumed the full workload she was now handling, he might end up like her grandfather had—clutching his chest, collapsing and dying before her eyes, and there’d been nothing she could do to help him. She couldn’t let that happen.
“If you really think he can get rid of this Grinch, who am I to ruin Christmas for everyone?” She shrugged her shoulders and then gave Mack a soft smile. Since she was manager, all she really would have to do to avoid Jared was to delegate. Issue him his orders at the beginning of the day, then follow up later. With any luck, she shouldn’t have to be around him more than once or twice a day until he found the Grinch.
She just hoped that was as easily done as thought. As she unwrapped the candy cane, she gave a sideways glance out the window—still no Jared—and then glanced at her father.
“You’re awfully quiet suddenly,” she said.
“I was just thinking,” Mack started slowly. “Maybe you could use some of that Christmas spirit of yours to convince Jared to play Santa. It would give the two of you something to do while you watch for the Grinch to reappear. Who knows, it might even be good for him.”
Jared playing Santa all day, seeing and relearning the joy and wonder of the holiday through the eyes of children? The idea brought a twinge of hope to Shea’s heart, and she put the candy cane down beside her as she considered it.
If she could show Jared just what he’d been missing—the warmth, spirit and traditions of a Christmas in Quiet Brook as well as the fun—maybe she could get him to understand where she’d been coming from. He might even feel some of the things she did about close family ties and loving relationships, and then be in a better position to enjoy his child when it came.
Oh, she knew better than to expect he would change and want everything she did, and without that happening, she didn’t think they could rekindle the love they’d once shared. But his having a merry Christmas in Quiet Brook could really only help him—and her baby—couldn’t it?
She interlaced her fingers and gazed down at her tummy. With Jared wanting to let her go, it wouldn’t be easy, but inside her, a tiny bit of hope curled up right next to her baby somewhere under her heart.
Once Mack’s receptionist told Jared that his fatherin-law was waiting for him at his home, Jared headed back down the escalator, scowling at the thought of what his friend might really be up to by dragging him around Shea. He nodded grimly at any number of people who wished him a merry Christmas until finally he didn’t bother looking at anyone anymore. Christmas had ceased being important to him long ago—and right now, he had other things on his mind. Like Shea. Like letting her go for her own good.
Dodging three youngsters running amuck through the aisles, he bumped into a cardboard display of Santa. Both the decorations and the kids were grim reminders of how different he and Shea actually were, and he quickened his steps, needing to get out of the store and out of Quiet Brook. When he caught up with Mack, he wasn’t standing for any more delays. Friend or no friend, he was putting his foot down.
Someone tugged on the back of his jacket. Turning, he had to drop his gaze way down to look into the blue eyes of a little girl, maybe five years old, one of the kids whom he’d seen in Denton’s earlier that day. Her denim jacket looked a size too small and was much too thin for the weather outside. Her look of poverty reminded him of his past and made him even more eager to escape the store, which seemed to be bringing back too many memories for comfort ever since he’d set foot inside it.
“Yeah?” he asked, glancing around at the almost empty aisles. Didn’t the kid have a mother?
“I know where Santa is.”
“Yeah, okay.” Jared knew that story. “The North Pole.”
“Honest. I know where the real Santa is.”
“Whatever you say.” He began to sweat. Even with his time on the force, he’d never quite gotten used to dealing with children. But before he could walk away, she latched onto his jacket with a grip that surprised him.
“You want me to take you to Santa? Then you can tell Mrs. Burroughs where he is, and she can ask him to sit at the Santa Station, and then she’ll be happy. I saw her almost cry before.”
Oh, that was just what he didn’t need to hear. He’d counted on Shea’s return to Quiet Brook making her happy—something she hadn’t been toward the end with him. The fact that she still wasn’t content was unsettling as hell because he still cared. He still cared a whole lot, and he knew the mental picture of her crying would come back to haunt him in the lonely hours of the night—it already had once or twice.
“Can you come see Santa with me?” The little sandy-haired girl smiled up at him with cajoling eyes.
The cold insides of Jared’s heart started melting. “No,” he said, careful to keep his tone soft as he gently disengaged her fingers from his jacket. “I can’t come with you anywhere. That wouldn’t be a good idea. You should go and find your mom and not talk to strangers.”
“But it’s okay to talk to you,” she said earnestly, dropping her hand to her side. “Santa said you were once a nice boy—you just grew up wrong.”
Raking his fingers through his thick brown hair as he stood there, Jared tried to figure out what exactly was going on. A stranger dressed up like Santa Claus talking to a little girl about him—and getting the information right? He decided he didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to get that involved with the child, the Santa Claus, or with Shea for that matter. What he wanted was to get out of her store where he could practically smell the ginger of her perfume every time he walked down an aisle.
“I don’t want to see Santa,” he told the child firmly. “Run along and find your mother, okay?”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” With a wave, he turned and started walking away.
The girl was probably just lonely, he supposed. Her friends must have run off and she had no one to play with. But still, it wasn’t good that she was inviting complete strangers to take her someplace...not even in a small town that was quiet and peaceful most of the time.
Sighing, knowing he wouldn’t rest that evening unless he was sure she had someone to watch over her, Jared began to scan the aisles, looking for the little girl in the thin denim jacket. But she seemed to have disappeared.
At the service desk, he told the clerk about the child. She claimed not to have noticed any young girls by themselves. Everyone else he asked in the front and rear of the store said practically the same thing. Finally, he came to the conclusion the girl must have gone home, even though by the strange looks he’d been getting as he asked after her, he was starting to believe she didn’t exist. That she was a little fairy of some sort, in a fairy-tale town.
But he didn’t believe in fairy tales. Swearing under his breath, Jared headed toward the front again, passing the deserted Santa Station on his way out. Seeing it reminded him of Shea and her efforts to keep the Santa there. Apparently, she had lost. That didn’t bode well. She lived for Christmas, and with the store in trouble, this wasn’t looking to be a good one. He was used to that, but he knew it was going to be a disaster for Shea. He didn’t want that for her. Not along with their divorce in just over a week. But he couldn’t do a thing to help her. Not one damned thing.
Five minutes later, he was in his truck, driving toward Mack’s, his face tight with tension. Their marriage probably could have been salvaged if he’d given in about having a baby, but he couldn’t do that to a kid. He’d been an only child and his father had been a bitter, remote man. All Jared knew about fatherhood was what he’d learned from his own, and that wouldn’t be nearly enough. It hadn’t been for him.
From his mother’s death at childbirth, Jared had been brought up on the family farm. The only love he’d ever known was from his Aunt Ruthie, who came most days to cook and clean. But when he was nine, she’d died of some illness—he couldn’t remember what.
What he did recall, vividly, was clinging to her in the hospital, begging her not to leave him, that he didn’t want to be left alone with his father, with no one to love him. Seconds later, his father had pulled him away with a look of fear and sadness on his face that Jared had never forgotten because he had put it there by his words. And his father had said something that he still remembered.
“I’m sorry, boy. I did the best I knew how for you.”
After that, Jared had never mentioned anything about not wanting to be with his father again, and in return, his father had continued to practically ignore him. After a while, he guessed he had just stopped caring whether he had love in his life. Maybe he thought his father’s remoteness was love. It was all he knew.
And all he could give a child.
He’d done all right alone, and would again. He’d put himself through college with scholarships, and by the time he was twenty had his degree and a job on the Quiet Brook police force. He’d kept mainly to himself for years, dating occasionally, but mostly living without love and emotion, until that fateful day when he’d gone into Denton’s, saved Mack’s payroll and his life—and met Shea.
When he married her, he’d known that she was too much the sweet princess in a fairy tale and he’d been too much an emotional pauper for them to ever make it together. But he’d wanted, for once, to feel like the prince, so he’d ignored all his inner warnings that their relationship would never last, that he couldn’t give her what she needed most. He shouldn’t have. He’d only hurt her. For himself, he didn’t care, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt the one woman who had loved him for a while with all her heart.
After parking his truck, he got out and walked up the steps to Mack’s door, where he paused to steel himself against seeing Shea again. He was doing the right thing by letting her go, he reminded himself. Without him, she could find someone who would make her happy and give her the family and the small-town life she craved. He just had to remind himself not to feel anything when he was around her, to revert back to the loner he’d always been.
Ready, he rapped on the front door. Mack answered it and led him into the study. Shea was sitting in the window seat, framed by Christmas decorations of holly and ivy. The house smelled of cinnamon and sugar and...Shea.
He found himself staring at her again, even though he knew better. Tendrils of her long black hair waved softly around her face, framing it as her eyes met his with an evergreen warmth that always filled his body with the familiar heat of longing. He wasn’t fool enough to believe that would ever change. He wanted her. He always would.
Her lips parted as she began to speak, but Mack beat her to it, his tone jovial. “Jared, thank you for coming.”
“You said it was urgent,” Jared reminded him, finally tearing his gaze away from Shea. “So what can I do for you, Mack?”
Seeing Jared standing there, rigid as a wooden soldier, Shea knew she had to carry through with the semblance of a plan she’d made while she waited for him to arrive. Every line of his face spelled loneliness. Jared needed to be given a chance to know the joys and pleasures of the season, to share in the Christmas spirit with others, and she was the only one who really still cared about him enough to persevere through the attempt. Since she already knew her marriage was over, she had nothing to lose by doing this, and her baby—and Jared—would have everything to gain.
“I assume Shea filled you in on what’s been happening at the store?” her father said to Jared.
“With the practical jokes?” He nodded. Waiting.
“I’d like you to find out who the Grinch is,” Mack explained. “We’ll pay you, of course.”
“You got me down here just to find a guy playing practical jokes?” Jared asked, sounding like he didn’t believe it—or considered it a waste of time. Shea winced.
Mack nodded affirmatively, and Shea added, “Please?”
Jared turned to her. “How would you two suggest someone go about finding this ‘Grinch’ of yours?”
“We figure the troublemaker is more than likely someone in the neighborhood.” She toyed with the drapes as if she hadn’t a care in the world and as if she didn’t really notice how steadily he’d been watching her. “Maybe even someone who doesn’t like small towns and who doesn’t have any Christmas spirit.”
That someone, Jared thought uncomfortably, sounded an awful lot like him.
“To get this guy,” Mack said, taking over, “you could keep an eye out for someone lurking around the Santa Station and try catching him in the act. You could also ask around and try to find out if anyone is upset with my store.”
“I’m not sure I understand why this is such a big problem,” Jared said, all too aware that this remark wasn’t going to set well with his friend. But he didn’t want to stay. “Couldn’t you just give out free candy or something to the kids at the Santa Station? You don’t really need anyone to play Santa Claus, do you?”
Shea tried to think of an explanation she hadn’t already given him, but her father sat down on the chair by his desk with an audible whoosh coming out of his mouth.
“Don’t need a Santa?” he asked incredulously. “Heck, Jared, of course Denton’s needs a Santa. Christmas in Quiet Brook wouldn’t be the same...” Mack frowned at Jared. “Didn’t Shea ever tell you about our gift-giving program? It’s been a family tradition for years.”
Jared aimed a long, unfathomable look in Shea’s direction that had her tingling all over and forgetting, for the moment, about their present troubles and the fact that the two of them were currently as incompatible as dry Christmas trees and Roman candles.
“I’m sure she might have tried,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’ve never paid much attention to anything about Christmas.”
That cool tone in his voice was all too familiar. She’d heard it a lot right before she’d left him, Shea remembered. It made her sad and afraid at the same time. Afraid especially because she knew she couldn’t help getting herself involved in trying to change him, and she was already feeling tender and wounded.
But she had to try, for Jared’s own sake. “During World War II,” she said, “my grandfather started a program. As each child visited Santa at the Station, the helper there recorded the child’s name and wish on a list. Then Denton’s would move heaven and earth, either through soliciting donations or giving the present themselves, to make sure the needy kids in town received at least one gift they craved.”
“The churches in town could do that now, couldn’t they?” Jared asked.
“They could,” Shea admitted. “Or the children could just mail their lists to Santa in the box in front of our store. But, Jared, the way Denton’s department store plays Santa to kids is one of the things that helps make Christmas in Quiet Brook the magical holiday it is.”
And, she added silently, they had to get things back to normal at the store by capturing the Grinch and hiring a Santa. She didn’t want to lose her job, the store, or anything else in her life.
She’d already lost Jared.
“So couldn’t you consider helping us—for the kids’ sakes?” her father asked.
From the way Jared was looking at her again, with an unreadable something in his dark blue eyes that Shea couldn’t figure out—but it wasn’t emotion—she knew he wasn’t going to stay and help by finding the Grinch, never mind by playing Santa. He wasn’t, she knew, because she was there.
Just as she predicted, Jared shook his head. “If that’s all you needed, Mack, old buddy, then I’ve got to be getting back to Topeka. There’s work there calling my name.”
The scene seemed eerily familiar to Shea. She had lived through it more than a few times since last December when she’d brought up the topic of having a baby and started pressing him to agree. Jared tended, to say the least, to avoid confrontation. If she didn’t miss her guess, in about four seconds...
She was right. With a wave, he turned and walked out of the room. Knowing the importance, Shea rose and hurried after him, flicking on the front porch light on her way out.
“Jared, wait!”
He cleared the porch steps and kept walking.
“Please?” The frosty air swirled around her, but if she went inside long enough to get her coat, he would leave and she would miss her chance. “Please? We have to talk.”
He stopped, his shoulders tensing, and she held her breath. To save Christmas for the store and the kids—and to help him and their baby, she had to find a way to persuade him to remain in town, even if every time she saw him brought back the painful memories of what could have been so perfect. He had to stay, only she didn’t know if she could be near him without falling to pieces.
Very slowly, he reversed direction. The shuttered look on his face was one she knew well, and it occuned to her that he had completely lost whatever sense of humor he seemed to have had at the store—or he’d just been faking it all along.
Either way, she was going to have to help him find it—and fast.
Chapter Three
Walking up to join Shea on the porch, Jared watched her with shaded eyes.
“I wish you wouldn’t go,” she said softly, her green eyes tearing him apart. “Mack needs you here.”
“I have to go.” He did, because he was not going to spend the upcoming days until the divorce torturing himself by being in the same town as Shea. Instead, he would be back in Topeka, working his tail off until he keeled over. If he timed it right, that event would take place at midnight of the morning of the divorce, and then he would sleep through until Thursday morning. After that...well, after that he would try to get through his life by pretending that Shea had never existed. Reaching out, he brushed a wisp of her hair behind her ear. “Why didn’t you tell your father there’s no hope for us?”
“I did, Jared,” she swore. “I even repeated it today. He just doesn’t want to believe.”
“Then I guess the question is, why are you out here trying to convince me to stay here and go through with his plan?”
“I have a couple of very good reasons,” she told him. “One of them is that Dad doesn’t need the strain of losing the store. The other...” Her voice dropped off. “It doesn’t matter. What does is that your helping us is so important for the sake of the store, the kids, the town—everything. You have no idea.” The cold was getting to her, and she couldn’t hold back a small shiver.
Jared took off his jacket, put it over her shoulders and pulled it close around her. “We should talk inside.”
“I think I prefer it out here,” Shea said with a small, wry smile. “Mack would eavesdrop. If I can’t convince you to stay, I don’t want him telling me what I should have said to you that might have worked.”
“Yeah, well, you’re cold.” Even as Jared said it, he realized he didn’t seem to feel it. Never had. Maybe he, like his father, was really made of ice. “Mack should be the one out here.”
“I’m all right.” Clutching his jacket, wrapped in what had been the heat from his body, Shea shook her head. “Dad thinks I should handle this Grinch thing—and you.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” Jared said wryly, a trace of a smile on his lips.
She didn’t smile back. “Probably because he thinks we belong together—but I guess we proved him wrong, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, we sure did.”
So much for lightening the mood, Jared thought. Unless he missed his guess, Shea was on the verge of tears. He’d already made her cry too many times. He wanted to go, but somehow he just couldn’t say no to her again and walk away. Not when she wanted the help so much.
“Congratulations on the promotion,” he said. “You always did enjoy the store and everything about it.”
“I think loving and being committed to Denton’s is a requirement before you can bear the family name,” she said.
“I’m surprised you ever agreed to leave Quiet Brook to come with me.”
“I loved you more than the store and the town,” she admitted softly. “More than anything.”
“And I messed that up, didn’t I?” His jaw moved as he surveyed her deep green eyes and high cheekbones and found her usually expressive face unreadable. “Give me a reason to stay, Shea,” he urged, his voice low. “One that I can understand.”
He was trying, Shea realized, only she’d run out of reasons for him to stay. The one she wanted—for him to stay for her—wouldn’t work.
“How about this?” she asked slowly, brainstorming. “If you stay and find the Grinch, you’d be saving Christmas for the needy in a small town in the heartland. A story like that hits the tabloids, and you’d be famous and get loads of publicity for your agency. What do you think?”
“I think that sounds pretty close to being exploitative,” Jared said. “And cynical. You wouldn’t want me to take unfair advantage of the public’s gullibility, would you?”
“Yes?”
He shook his head, pretending sadness. “Being married to me has warped your precious small-town values a little. But I’m still unconvinced. Want to give up now so I can go?”
“Okay, Jared,” she said, too calmly for his peace of mind, “I wasn’t going to do this, but you’ve driven me to it. I’ll beg. I’ll even throw something in it for you. If I agree to be very, very, nice—” she blinked the thick black lashes of her eyes and closed the distance between them “—will you please stay and help me make Christmas special for the needy kids in Quiet Brook?”
The closer she got, the more Jared wanted to stay, and not just because he wanted her. It was everything about her that enticed him, including the fact that she cared enough about him to want to give him the family life he’d never had. She was the one woman who might have filled the hole in his life, he realized, but he couldn’t let her—for her own sake.
He didn’t want to hurt her any further, so he backed away ever so slightly. “I can’t help you, Shea.”
Her face fell. “Why did I possibly imagine mentioning little boys and girls in the store with no Santa in sight would faze you?” she asked, her voice sadder than he’d ever heard it.
Her mention of small kids brought the image of that little sandy-haired girl in Denton’s back into his mind. Jared couldn’t move, thinking about how that child had been so damned worried about Shea—and so certain of herself. It was almost as if he’d been visited by... No, he wasn’t going to be sidetracked by the magic-of-Christmas bit. Stupid, fanciful thoughts would get him nowhere.
She’d struck some chord inside him. Shea knew it, could see the second his eyes changed. Taking a deep breath, she forged on. “There’s something else.”
He waited. The crisp air seemed to crackle with electricity between them. She crossed her fingers, both for luck and because of the little lie she was about to tell.
“Mack’s condition is worse than I led you to believe.” Maybe it wasn’t such a lie. Her father’s condition would definitely take a turn for the worse if Mack ever heard about what she’d just said to his best friend.
Jared hadn’t been expecting that, and the news took his breath away. “If this is a trick, I’m not sure what I’m going to do to you,” he warned. “But I guarantee that it won’t be anything with Christmas spirit in it.”
“I wouldn’t tempt Fate lying about something like this,” she said, crossing her fingers again under the cover of his jacket.
“You should have told me earlier.” But Jared couldn’t sustain his irritation, not when he was overridden with worry for his friend and the thought that if something happened to Mack, he would really be irretrievably alone—and so would Shea.
His throat went dry. Mack was the one person who had never wanted anything from him, no matter what, seemingly from the second they’d met. And Mack’s loyalty was limitless. Even when Shea had left him, Mack had refused to take sides. He’d do anything for Mack—and Shea knew it.
Yeah, Shea knew it. He gave her a suspicious look. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about your father’s health before?”
“I didn’t want you to stick around before. Then Mack did his blackmailing bit, and now I need you here.”
Jared wasn’t at all worried about Mack doing anything to Shea that she didn’t probably deserve, but he had to ask. “What did Mack threaten you with?”
She looked like she might not answer. As she hesitated, she moved her arms, and his jacket almost slipped off her shoulders. Without thinking, Jared stepped forward and drew it around her again. He could hear her breathing stop and then he backed away, cursing himself for losing his control. He shouldn’t touch her. He really shouldn’t touch her.
“Mack basically told me if I wasn’t nice to you while you were here, he’d lay me off work until you left.”
In the front porch light, Shea could see a slow grin cross Jared’s face, lighting up his eyes. A true smile of honest amusement. Caught by surprise, almost mesmerized, she finally released her breath, which she seemed to have been holding forever. Then the meaning of his smile penetrated.
“Wait a minute. You think Mack’s blackmailing me is funny?”
“Hell, yes. Ironic.” His chuckle resonated from deep within. “Shea Burroughs actually needed to be threatened to show Christmas spirit? You were always so full of Christmas spirit, I used to think you could convince Scrooge to change into Santa Claus.”
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