Made for Marriage

“Good morning, Callie.”

“Hi, Linda,” she greeted the fifty-something woman behind the counter, who was hidden from view by a tall glass cabinet housing fried food, pre-packaged sandwiches and cheese-slathered hot dogs.

She picked out a soda and headed for the counter.

Linda smiled. “I hear you had a run-in with Noah Preston yesterday.”

Noah? Was that his name? He’d probably told her when he’d made arrangements for his daughter’s lessons, but Callie had appalling recall for names. Noah. Warmth pooled low in her belly. I don’t have any interest in that awful man. And she wasn’t about to admit she’d spent the past twenty-four hours thinking about him.

“Good news travels fast,” she said and passed over a twenty dollar note.

Linda took the money and cranked the register. “In this place news is news. I only heard because my daughter volunteers as a guard at the surf beach.”

Callie took the bait and her change. “The surf beach?”

“Well, Cameron was there. He told her all about it.”

He did? “Who’s Cameron?”

Linda tutted as though Callie should know exactly who he was. “Cameron Jakowski. He and Noah are best friends.”

Callie couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be friends with Noah Preston.

“Cameron volunteers there, too,” she said, and Callie listened, trying to not lose track of the conversation. “Noah used to, but he’s too busy with all his kids now.”

“So this Cameron told your daughter what happened?”

“Yep. He said you and Noah had an all-out brawl. Something to do with that eldest terror of his.”

“It wasn’t exactly a brawl,” Callie explained. “More like a disagreement.”

“I heard he thinks you should be shut down,” Linda said odiously, her voice dropping an octave.

Callie’s spine stiffened. Not again. When she’d caught the Trent sisters smoking in the stables, Sonya Trent had threatened the same thing. “What?”

“Mmm,” Linda said. “And it only takes one thing to go wrong to ruin a business, believe me. One whiff of you being careless around the kids and you can kiss the place goodbye.”

Callie felt like throwing up. Her business meant everything to her. Her horses, her home. “I didn’t do anything,” she protested.

Linda made a sympathetic face. “Of course you didn’t, love. But I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you had because of that little hellion.” Linda sighed. “That girl’s been nothing but trouble since her—”

The conversation stopped abruptly when the bell pealed and a woman, dressed in a pair of jeans and a vivid orange gauze blouse, walked into the shop. Black hair curled wildly around her face and bright green eyes regarded Callie for a brief moment.

“Hello, Linda,” she said and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the fridges.

“Evie, good to see you. Are you selling at the trunk sale today?” Linda asked.

Her dancing green eyes grew wide. “For sure,” she said and paid her money. “My usual stuff. But if you hear of anyone wanting a big brass bed, let me know. I’m renovating one of the upstairs rooms and it needs to go. Catch you later.”

She hurried from the shop and Linda turned her attention back to Callie.

“That’s Evie Dunn,” Linda explained. “She runs a bed and breakfast along the waterfront. You can’t miss it. It’s the big A-frame place with the monstrous Norfolk pines out the front. She’s an artist and sells all kinds of crafting supplies, too. You should check it out.”

Callie grimaced and then smiled. “I’m not really into handicrafts.”

Linda’s silvery brows shot up. “Noah Preston is her brother.”

Of course. No wonder those green eyes had looked so familiar. Okay, maybe now she was a little interested. Callie grabbed her soda and left the shop. So, he wanted her shut down, did he?

She drove the truck in the car park and leashed Tessa. There were more than thirty cars and stalls set up, and the park was teeming with browsers and buyers. It took Callie about three minutes to find Evie Dunn. The pretty brunette had a small table laid out with craft wares and costume jewelry.

She wandered past once and then navigated around for another look.

“Are you interested in scrapbooking?” Evie Dunn asked on her third walk by.

Callie stalled and eased Tessa to heel. She took a step toward the table and shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Black brows rose sharply. “Are you interested in a big brass bed?”

Callie shook her head. “Ah, I don’t think so.”

Evie planted her hands on her hips. “Then I guess you must be interested in my brother?”

Callie almost hyperventilated. “What do you—”

“You’re Callie, right?” The other woman asked and thrust out her hand. “I saw the name of your riding school on the side of your truck. I’m Evie. Lily told me all about you. You made quite an impression on my niece, which is not an easy feat. From what she told me, I’m certain she still wants you as her riding instructor.”

There was no chance that was going to happen. “I don’t think it’s up to Lily.”

“Made you mad, did he?”

Callie took a step forward and shook her hand. “You could say that.”

Evie, whose face was an amazing mix of vivid color—green eyes and bright cherry lips—stared at her with a thoughtful expression that said she was being thoroughly summed up. “So, about the brass bed?” she asked and smiled. “Would you like to see it?”

Brass bed? Callie shook her head. Hadn’t she already said she wasn’t interested? “I don’t think—”

“You’ll love it,” Evie insisted. “I can take you to look at it now if you like. Help me pack up and we can get going.”

Callie began to protest and then stopped. She was pretty sure they weren’t really talking about a bed. This was Noah Preston’s sister. And because he had quickly become enemy number one, if she had a lick of sense she’d find out everything she could about him and use it to her advantage. If Noah thought she would simply sit back and allow him to ruin her reputation, he could certainly think again. Sandhills Farm was her life. If he wanted a war, she’d give him one.

Chapter Two

Noah didn’t know how to reach out to his angry daughter. He hurt for her. A deep, soul-wrenching hurt that transcended right through to his bones. But what could he do? Her sullen, uncommunicative moods were impossible to read. She skulked around the house with her eyes to the floor, hiding behind her makeup, saying little, determined to disassociate herself from the family he tried so frantically to keep together.

And she pined for the mother who’d abandoned her without a backward glance.

She’d deny it, of course. But Noah knew. It had been more than four years ago. Four and a half long years and they all needed to move on.

Yeah, right … like I’ve moved on?

He liked to think so. Perhaps not the way his parents or sisters thought he should have. But he’d managed to pull together the fractured pieces of the life his ex-wife discarded. He had Preston Marine, the business his grandfather created and which he now ran, his kids, his family and friends. It was enough. More than enough.

Most of the time.

Except for the past twenty-four hours.

Because as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t stop thinking about the extraordinarily beautiful Callie Jones and her glittering blue eyes. And the way she’d planted her hands on her hips. And the sinful way she’d filled out her jeans. For the first time in forever he felt a spark of attraction. More than a spark. It felt like a damned raging inferno, consuming him with its heat.

Noah stacked the dishes he’d washed and dried his hands, then checked his watch. He was due at Evie’s around two o’clock; he’d promised her he’d help shift some furniture. Evie loved rearranging furniture.

Within ten minutes they were on their way. Hayley and Matthew, secured in their booster seats, chatted happily to each other while Jamie sat in the front beside Noah. His one-hundred-and-forty acre farm was only minutes out of Crystal Point and was still considered part of the small town. He’d bought the place a couple of years earlier, for a song of a price, from an elderly couple wanting to retire after farming sugar cane for close to fifty years. The cane was all but gone now, and Noah leased the land to a local farmer who ran cattle.

He dropped speed along The Parade, the long road separating the houses from the shore, and pulled up outside his sister’s home. There was a truck parked across the road, a beat-up blue Ford that looked familiar. He hauled Hayley into his arms, grabbed Matty’s hand and allowed Jamie to seize the knapsack from the backseat and then race on ahead. The kids loved Evie’s garden, with its pond and stone paved walkways, which wound in tracks to a stone wishing well. And Noah kind of liked it, too.

“Look, Daddy … it’s that dog,” Jamie said excitedly, running toward a happy-looking pup tied to a railing near the front veranda.

The dog looked as familiar to him as the truck parked outside. His stomach did a stupid leap.

She’s here? What connection did Callie Jones have to Evie? Before he could protest, Jamie was up the steps, opening the front door and calling his aunt’s name.

Noah found them in the kitchen. Evie was cutting up pineapple and she was sitting at the long scrubbed table, cradling a mug in her hands. She looked up when he entered the room and smiled. A killer smile. A smile with enough kick to knock the breath from his chest. He wondered if she knew she had it, if she were aware how flawless her skin looked or how red and perfectly bowed her lips were. The hat was gone and her brown hair hung over one shoulder in a long braid.

Discomfort raced through him. Noah shifted Hayley on his hip and hung on tightly to Matty’s hand. She looked him over, he looked her over. Something stirred, rumbling through his blood, taunting him a little.

Evie cleared her throat and broke the silence. “Well,” she said. “How about I take the kids outside and you two can … talk?”

Noah didn’t want to talk with her. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to drag himself away.

Callie Jones had walked into his life. And he was screwed.

Callie couldn’t speak. They were twins. Twins. Who looked to be about … four years old?

The same age as Ryan would have been …

She smiled—she wasn’t sure how—and watched him hold the twins with delightful affection. He looked like Father of the Year. And he was, according to his sister. A single dad raising four children. A good man. The best.

A heavy feeling grew in her chest, filling her blood, sharpening her breath.

The children disappeared with Evie, and once they were alone she stood and flicked her braid down her back. He watched every movement, studying her with such open regard she couldn’t stop a flush from rising over her skin.

I shouldn’t want him to look at me like that.

Not this man who had quickly become the enemy.

“I didn’t expect to see you …” he said, then paused. “So soon.”

She inhaled deeply. “I guess you didn’t. Frankly, I didn’t want to see you.”

His green eyes held her captive. “And yet you’re here in my sister’s house?”

Callie tilted her chin. “I’m looking at a bed.”

The word bed quickly stirred up a whole lot of awareness between them. It was bad enough she thought the man was gorgeous—her blasted body had to keep reminding her of the fact!

“A bed?”

“Yes.” Callie took another breath. Longer this time because she needed it. “You know, one of those things to sleep on.”

That got him thinking. “I know what a bed is,” he said quietly. “And what it’s used for.”

I’ll just bet you do!

Callie turned red from her braid to her boots. “But now that I am here, perhaps you’d like to apologize?”

“For what?” He looked stunned.

For being a gorgeous jerk. “For being rude yesterday.”

“Wait just a—”

“And for telling people my school should be closed down.”

“What?”

“Are you denying it? I mean, you threatened me,” she said, and as soon as the words left her mouth she felt ridiculous.

“I did what?”

She didn’t miss the quiet, controlled tone in his voice. Maddeningly in control, she thought. Almost too controlled, as if he was purposefully holding himself together in some calm, collected way to prove he would not, and could not, be provoked.

“You said you’d see that I lost my license,” she explained herself.

He looked at her. “And because of that you think I’ve been saying your school needs to be closed down?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And who did you hear this from?”

Callie felt foolish then. Was she being paranoid listening to small-town gossip? Have I jumped to conclusions? When she didn’t reply he spoke again.

“Local tongues, no doubt. I haven’t said a word to anyone, despite my better judgment.” He cocked a brow. “Perhaps you’ve pissed off someone else.”

Retaliation burned on the end of her tongue. The infamous Callie Jones temper rose up like bile, strangling her throat. “You’re such a jerk!”

He smiled. Smiled. As if he found her incredibly amusing. Callie longed to wipe the grin from his handsome face, to slap her hand across his smooth skin. To touch. To feel. And then, without explanation, something altered inside her. Something altered between them. In an unfathomable moment, everything changed.

He sees me…

She wasn’t sure why she thought it. Why she felt it through to the blood pumping in her veins. But she experienced a strange tightening in her chest, constricting her breath, her movements. Callie didn’t want anyone to see her. Not this man. Especially not this man. This stranger.

But he did. She was sure of it. He sees that I’m a fraud. I can talk a tough line. But I live alone. I work alone. I am alone.

And Noah Preston somehow knew it.

Bells rang in her head. Warning her, telling her to leave and break the incredible eye contact that shimmered like light between them.

“You need to keep a better handle on your daughter.”

“I do?” he said, still smiling.

“She broke the rules,” Callie said pointedly. “And as her parent, that’s your fault, not mine.”

“She broke the rules because you lacked good judgment,” he replied.

Callie scowled, grabbed her keys and headed for the door. “Tell your sister thank you for the coffee.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did I hit a nerve?”

She rounded her shoulders back and turned around. “I’m well aware of my faults. I may not be all wisdom regarding the behavior of teenage girls, but I certainly know plenty about men who are arrogant bullies. You can point as much blame in my direction as you like—but that doesn’t change the facts.”

“I did hit a nerve.”

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

As she left the house and collected Tessa, Callie wasn’t sure she took a breath until she drove off down The Parade.

Noah waited until the front door clicked shut and then inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air. A jerk? Is that what he’d sounded like? He didn’t like that one bit. A protective father, yes. But a jerk? He felt like chasing after her to set her straight.

Evie returned to the kitchen in record time, minus the kids. “They’re watching a DVD,” she said and refilled the kettle. Evie thought caffeine was a sure cure for anything. “So, that went well, did it?”

“Like a root canal.”

“Ouch.” She made a face. “She called you a jerk. And a bully.”

“Eavesdropping, huh?”

She shrugged. “Only a bit. So, who won that battle in this war?” she asked, smiling.

He recognized his sister’s look. “It’s not exactly a war.”

Evie raised a brow. “But you were mad at her, right?”

“Sure.” He let out an impatient breath.

“Well.” Evie stopped her task of making coffee. “You don’t usually get mad at people.”

Noah frowned. “Of course I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Evie said. “Not even your pesky three sisters.”

He shrugged. “Does this conversation have a point?”

“I was just wondering what she did to make you so … uptight?”

“I’m sure she told you what happened,” Noah said, trying to look disinterested and failing.

Evie’s eyes sparkled. “Well … yes, she did. But I want to hear it from you.”

“Why?”

“So I can see if you get the same look on your face that she did.”

“What look?” he asked stupidly.

Evie stopped what she was doing. A tiny smile curved her lips. “That look.”

He shook his head. “You’re imagining things.”

Evie chuckled. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I thought she was … nice.”

Yeah, like a stick of dynamite. “You like everyone.”

Evie laughed out loud. “Ha—you’re not fooling me. You like her.”

“I don’t know her.”

Noah dismissed his sister’s suspicions. If he gave an inch, if he even slightly indicated he had thoughts of Callie Jones in any kind of romantic capacity, she’d be on the telephone to their mother and two other sisters within a heartbeat.

Romance … yeah, right. With four kids, a mortgage and a business to run—women weren’t exactly lining up to take part in his complicated life.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a date. Eight months ago, he thought, vaguely remembering a quiet spoken, divorced mother of two who’d spent the entire evening complaining about her no-good, layabout ex. One date was all they’d had. He’d barely touched her hand. I live like a monk. That wasn’t surprising, though—the fallout from his divorce would have sent any man running to the monastery.

Besides, he didn’t want a hot-tempered, irresponsible woman in his life, did he? No matter how sexy she looked in her jeans. “So, where’s this furniture you want me to move?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he stood.

Evie took the hint that the subject was closed. “One of the upstairs bedrooms,” she said. “I want to paint the walls. I just need the armoire taken out into the hall.”

“Oh, the antique cupboard that weighs a ton? Lucky me. At least this time I’m spared the stairs. Do you remember when Gordon and I first got the thing upstairs?”

Evie smiled, clearly reminiscing, thinking of the husband she’d lost ten years earlier. “And Cameron,” she said. “You were all acting like a bunch of wusses that day, huffing and puffing over one little armoire.”

Noah grunted as they took the stairs. “Damn thing’s made of lead.”

“Wuss,” she teased.

They laughed some more and spent twenty minutes shifting the heaviest piece of furniture on the planet. When he was done, Noah wanted a cold drink and a back rub.

And that idea made him think of Callie Jones and her lovely blue eyes all over again.

“Feel like staying for dinner?” Evie asked once they were back downstairs. “Trevor’s at a study group tonight,” she said of her fifteen-year-old son.

“On a Sunday? The kid’s keen.”

“The kid’s smart,” Evie corrected. “He wants to be an engineer like his favorite uncle.”

Noah smiled. “Not tonight, but thanks. I’ve gotta pick Lily up from the surf club at four. And it’s a school day tomorrow.”

Evie groaned. “God, we’re a boring lot.”

Noah wasn’t going to argue with that. He grabbed the kids’ things and rounded up the twins and Jamie. The kids hugged Evie and she waved them off from the front step.

“And don’t forget the parents are back from their trip on Wednesday,” she reminded him.

“I won’t,” he promised.

“And don’t forget I’ll need your help to move the armoire back into the bedroom in a few days. I’ll call to remind you.”

He smiled. “I won’t forget.”

“And don’t forget to think about why you’re refusing to admit that you’re hot for a certain riding instructor.”

Noah shook his head. “Goodbye, Evie.”

She was still laughing minutes later when he drove off.

Noah headed straight for the surf club. Lily was outside when he pulled up, talking to Cameron. She scowled when she saw him and quickly got into the backseat, squeezing between the twins’ booster seats. Normally, she would have resigned Jamie to the back. But not today. She was clearly still mad with him. Mad that he’d made it impossible for her to go back to Sandhills Farm, at least in her mind.

Noah got out of the pickup and turned his attention to his best friend. “So, Hot Tub, what have you been up to?”

Cameron half-punched him in the shoulder. “Would you stop calling me that?”

Noah grinned at his playboy friend and the unflattering nickname he’d coined years earlier.

“I’ll do my best.” He changed the subject. “Did Lily say anything to you about what happened yesterday?”

Cameron nodded. “You know Lily. I hear the horse lady’s real cute.”

Cute? That’s not how Noah would describe Callie. Cute was a bland word meant for puppies and little girls with pink ribbons in their hair. Beautiful better described Callie Jones, and even that didn’t seem to do her justice. Not textbook pretty, like Margaret, his ex, had been. Callie had a warm, rich kind of beauty. She looked like … the taste of a full-bodied Bordeaux. Or the scent of jasmine on a sultry summer’s evening.

Get a grip. Noah coughed. “I have to get going.”

Minutes later he was back on the road and heading home. By the time they reached the house Noah knew he wanted the truth from Lily. Callie Jones had called him a jerk. If he’d misjudged her like she said, he wanted to know. Lily tried her usual tactic of skipping straight to her bedroom, but he cut her off by the front door, just after the twins and Jamie had made it inside.

“Lily,” he said quietly. “I want to talk to you.”

She pulled her knapsack onto her shoulder and shrugged. “Don’t you mean talk at me?”

He took a deep breath. “Did you ride that horse without permission yesterday?”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you what happened.”

“Was it the truth?”

Lily shrugged. “Sort of.” Her head shot up and she stared at him with eyes outlined in dark, smudgy makeup. “Is she blaming me?”

No, she’s blaming me. And probably rightly so if the look on his daughter’s face was anything to go by. Noah knew instantly that he’d overreacted. Clearly. Stupidly.

Noah suddenly felt like he’d been slapped over the back of the head. I never overreact. So, why her? Evie’s words came back to haunt him.

You like her.

And he did. She’s beautiful, sassy and sexy as hellfire.

But that wasn’t really Callie Jones. It was an act—Noah knew it as surely as he breathed. How he knew he wasn’t sure. Instinct maybe. Something about her reached him, drew him and made him want to know her.

Lily’s eyes grew wider and suspicious. “You’ve seen her again, right?”

He wondered how she’d know that and thought it might be some fledgling female intuition kicking in. “Yes, I have.”

She huffed, a childish sound that reminded him she was just thirteen. “Is she going to give me lessons?”

“I said we’d find you another instructor.”

Lily’s expression was hollow and she flicked her black hair from her eyes. “So, she won’t?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Couldn’t you ask her?”

Good question. He could ask her. Lily wanted her. Lily never wanted anything, never asked him for anything. But she wanted Callie Jones.

“Why is it so important to you to learn from Callie? There are other instructors in town.”

She cast him a scowl. “Yeah, at the big training school in town. It’s full of rich stuck-ups with their push-button ponies.”

“How do you know that?”

She chewed at her bottom lip for a moment and then said, “From school. The Pony Girls all go there.”