To A Macallister Born

No, no, she had to calm down. She was surrounded by people, was safe…for the moment, at least. She’d just bluff her way through this until she could formulate a sensible plan.

“Good evening,” she said to the man, unable to produce even the smallest smile. “May I help you?”

Jack MacAllister walked slowly toward the podium, his gaze riveted on the woman who had spoken to him.

It was her, he thought incredulously. The beautiful lady in the window of the intriguing Victorian house.

The woman who had not been far from his mental vision ever since he’d seen her yesterday morning as he’d stood on the sidewalk in front of her home.

She was even more lovely up close. Her eyes were green—incredibly green, and her hair was a silken tumble of strawberry-blond waves to just above her shoulders. Her features were delicate, her lips made for kissing. What he could see of the pale green dress she was wearing gave hint of lush breasts beneath the soft material.

And for some unknown reason, she was staring at him as though she expected him to leap over the podium and strangle her with his bare hands.

All he had done was walk into the dining room of the hotel, but, heaven only knew why, he was scaring this breathtaking feminine creature to death.

He’d never caused that kind of reaction in a woman before.

“Good evening,” he said, stopping in front of the podium and producing his best, hundred-watt smile. “I apologize if I startled you when I opened the doors.”

“Startled me?” she said, more in the form of a squeak.

“Well, yes—I mean, you look rather…fright-ened.”

“Frightened?” She splayed one hand on her breasts. “Me?”

“Look,” Jack said, frowning as he extended one hand toward her, “I don’t know what I did to—”

She took a step backward. “Don’t come any closer. I might appear frightened, but I’m not. No, sir, not one little bit. I’m wise to you, mister. I have a great many friends in this town, including the sheriff, and you’ll never get away with it—not in a million years.”

“Huh?”

She glanced quickly around the room. “Just—just…” She flapped one hand at him. “Shuffle off to Buffalo. Get out of Dodge. Give up on whatever your diabolical scheme is before you end up in the clink.”

“Huh?” Jack said again, totally confused.

“Hey, there you are,” a deep voice said.

“Brandon—” Jack and the woman said in unison.

Brandon Hamilton strode to the podium. “Jennifer, I’d like you to meet Jack MacAllister, a good buddy of mine. Jack, this lovely lady and I have been friends since before we could walk and talk. This is Jennifer Mackane.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Mackane,” Jack said, grinning.

Chapter Two

Before Jennifer was forced to respond to Jack MacAllister’s greeting, the dining room doors once again opened.

When she saw Brandon’s wife, Andrea, and his great-aunts, twin sisters Prudence and Charity, enter the room, she nearly flung herself at them for a group hug.

“Hi,” she said weakly, then snatched up a pile of menus. “Your table is ready. Let’s go.” She shook her head slightly. “I mean, would you follow me, please?”

Rushing from behind the podium, she bumped smack-dab into Jack, and the menus went flying in all directions.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mr. MacAllister,” Jennifer said, not looking directly at him. “My, my, clumsy me. I’ll just pick these up and—Brandon, you have the corner table by the windows. I’ll be with you in just a second.”

Jennifer squatted to collect the scattered menus, only to have Jack hunker down next to her and retrieve two of them.

“I’ll give you a hand,” he said.

Jennifer’s head snapped up, and she found herself only inches from Jack. He was looking directly at her, a small smile on his lips.

Chocolate fudge sauce, she thought. That was the color of Jack MacAllister’s eyes. Delicious, chocolate fudge sauce. Good grief, he was handsome—so ruggedly male, as though his features had been chiseled from rough stone.

There were tiny lines by his eyes, and she guessed he was maybe thirty-five or thirty-six. His hair was thick, an auburn shade reminding her of a glossy Irish setter.

His nose was straight, his jaw square, his lips masculine but soft, as though waiting for a kiss….

Jennifer, get a grip, she ordered herself, averting her eyes from Jack’s. There was that heat again, that damnable heat, swirling low within her, pulsing, causing a warm flush to stain her cheeks.

Jennifer stood, clutching the menus to her chest. Jack rose and offered two more to her.

“Thank you,” she said, nearly snatching them out of his hand. “Brandon, why are you still here? I thought you were going over to your table.”

“We will, sweetie pie,” Aunt Charity said, “just as soon as we figure out what in the blue blazes is the matter with you.”

“Yes, dear,” Aunt Prudence said. “You do seem a teeny bit flustered this evening. Is something wrong?”

Jennifer looked at the elderly aunts. Although they were twins, their mirror image was the only similar thing about them.

Aunt Prudence was wearing a sedate gray dress with a high neck and long sleeves. Aunt Charity was decked out in yards of royal blue taffeta, the dress reminiscent of a turn-of-the-19th-century dance hall costume.

Andrea was standing next to tall, dark and handsome Brandon. Her maternity dress was peach, which accentuated her lovely, silky dark hair. She had an expression of concern on her pretty face.

“I’m fine,” Jennifer said, producing a passable smile. “I just overreacted to something I shouldn’t have overreacted to, that’s all. My imagination got the better of me and…I’m fine now.”

“Hold it,” Jack said, snapping his fingers. “The lightbulb just went on over my head. You saw me on the sidewalk in front of your house yesterday morning. Staring at your home. Casing the place, one might think. Am I getting this straight? Then I showed up here, and that scared the bejesus out of you. Right?”

Jennifer lifted her chin. “That’s correct, Mr. MacAllister. Your behavior unsettled me. I apologize for…” She frowned. “No, I don’t. I had just cause to question your intentions.”

“You betcha,” Aunt Charity said. “There was a stranger gawking at your house, for mercy’s sake. That would shake up any single, unmarried, unattached, not-even-dating-anyone woman who has a little boy to protect.”

“Thank you for sharing, Aunt Charity,” Jack said, smiling at her.

“Just stating the facts, hotshot,” Aunt Charity said, obviously pleased with herself.

Jennifer closed her eyes for a moment and squeezed the bridge of her nose as she drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she raised her head and forced a smile into place.

“Welcome to the dining room of Hamilton House,” she said, looking at a spot above the assembled group. “May I show you to your table?”

Jack chuckled. “Why certainly, Ms. Mackane. Do lead on.”

“Call her Jennifer,” Aunt Charity said. “She’s a member of our family, and so are you now, Jack. Jennifer, call Jack…Jack.”

“That’s Jack MacAllister,” he said, grinning at Jennifer. “Not Jack the Ripper.”

“Mmm,” she said, glaring at him.

Jennifer marched across the room to the designated table. When the others joined her, she shoved the stack of menus at Brandon, who grabbed them before they fell to the floor again.

“Enjoy your dinner,” Jennifer said, then hurried away.

Everyone settled into their chairs, and Brandon passed out the menus.

“MacAllister,” Brandon said, laughing, “you’ve only been in town a couple of days and you’ve already caused trouble. New York City is probably celebrating your permanent departure, and the citizens of Ventura, California, are shaking in their shorts.”

“Hey, I’m innocent,” Jack said. “All I was doing was admiring a dynamite example of historical architecture—which is badly in need of some tender lovin’ care, by the way. I didn’t intend to shake up the lovely Jennifer. She sure has a temper to go along with that red hair of hers.”

“She’s a handful, all right,” Aunt Charity said, peering at her menu. “Has been ever since she was a little girl. It would take a very special man to be a match for our Jennifer.”

“And a father for Joey,” Aunt Prudence said.

“I assume Jennifer is divorced,” Jack said.

“No, dear,” Aunt Prudence said. “She’s a widow. Her Joe was killed in a construction accident a week before Joey was born. Jennifer returned to Prescott to raise her son. Her parents relocated to Phoenix shortly thereafter due to Jennifer’s mother having severe arthritis. Jennifer is living in their family home.”

“It’s a lovely house,” Andrea said, “but it’s an awful lot for Jennifer to keep up, I’m afraid.”

“I see,” Jack said slowly. “How old is Joey?”

“Five,” Aunt Charity said. “He’s cute as a button. Looks just like his mama.”

Jack frowned. “That’s a good many years to mourn a man, no matter how great he might have been. Aren’t there any eligible bachelors in this town?”

“Oodles,” Aunt Charity said. “Jennifer seems determined never to remarry. Heaven knows, we’ve done our darndest to fix her up with the cream of the crop around here.” She paused. “Maybe we should leap into action again, Pru. After all, Jennifer did catch Megan’s bouquet at the wedding.”

“Indeed, she did,” Pru said, smiling.

“Oh, man, here we go again,” Brandon said, chuckling. “Poor Jennifer.”

“Sounds to me like the lady knows her own mind,” Jack said. “She likes being single. End of story. The same holds true of me. All the matchmaking in the world wouldn’t get me to change my stand on the issue. I’m a bachelor and intend to remain one.”

“Wanna bet, big boy?” Aunt Charity said, leaning toward him.

“You’d better shut up, MacAllister,” Brandon said, shaking his head. “Aunt Charity and Aunt Pru are pros at this matchmaking bit. I was a confirmed bachelor, too, remember?”

“And so was Ben,” Andrea said, smiling. “As well as Taylor.”

“Yep,” Brandon said, nodding. “And now we’re all married. Don’t get too mouthy on the issue, Jack. You never know what the future holds.”

“I know what it holds for me on the subject of marriage,” Jack said. “It ain’t gonna happen.”

“Yes, dear,” Aunt Pru said, patting his hand. “We hear you.”

“Ah, how the mighty will fall,” Andrea said, smiling. “You did tell us the fascinating tale of the baby bet business that took place within the MacAllister clan, Jack. Your cousin, Forrest, was the reigning champion for eons—then kaboom, he was dethroned, so to speak.”

“Yep,” Brandon said. “That’s how the story went. The same could hold true for the remaining eligible males in a bachelor bet. Look at how many of us have taken the fall.” He glanced quickly at Andrea. “And very happily so, my sweet.”

“Nice save, Hamilton,” Andrea said, laughing.

“I’ll be pleased to take your money in a bachelor bet, Brandon.” Jack leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So would my younger brother, Richard, I imagine. My sister is single, too, if you want to add bachelorettes to the soup.”

“I want a piece of this action,” Aunt Charity said, rubbing her hands together.

“I do believe,” Andrea said thoughtfully, “that our new sheriff, Cable Montana, would be in the camp with you and your brother, Jack.”

“The numbers grow,” Jack said, nodding. “There are simply men in this world who have no intention of marrying…ever.”

“I know,” Brandon said, grinning at Jack. “I was one of them.”

Jack flattened his hands on the table and leaned toward Brandon.

“The difference between us, buddy,” Jack said, “is that I’ll never change my stand on the issue.”

“Yes, dear,” Aunt Prudence said, smiling sweetly. “So you said.”

Jack chuckled, sat back again and shook his head.

“You’re all smiling like Cheshire cats,” he said. “You obviously believe I’m full of hot air. Oh, easy pickings, that’s what you are. Money in my pocket. How long before I can collect this bachelor bet? Do I have to be a hundred and two and still single before you pay up?”

“We’ll work out the details of that part of the bachelor bet later, big boy,” Aunt Charity said. “Here comes our waitress. Let’s eat. I’m starving to death while I’m sitting here.”

“So are we,” Andrea said, patting her protruding stomach. “Baby Hamilton is doing gymnastics to let me know she’s hungry.”

“She? She?” Brandon said, raising his eyebrows. “Have you finally accepted the fact that I’m right? That we’re having a girl? A daughter?”

“Sure, she has,” Jack said. “I told you that when Forrest finally lost the baby bet, the baton was passed to the daddy-to-be. The fathers have been right every time since. If you say it’s a girl, Brandon, then it’s a girl. Your wife is a smart lady, and realized that the baby bet has proven itself. You’re having a girl.”

“And smart person that I am,” Andrea said, “I’m putting my money on your falling in love and losing the bachelor bet, Jack.”

Over the next hour, Jennifer carried out her hostess duties by rote.

She was furious at herself. She’d behaved like an idiot in front of Brandon’s friend Jack MacAllister. Granted, she had just cause to have been frightened of Jack.

But then? Oh, good grief. Had she dismissed the incident as a misunderstanding, regained her composure and performed in a professional manner?

Oh, no, not her. She’d been caught up in a mish-mash of lingering anger, along with acute feminine awareness of Jack’s blatant masculinity. She’d turned into Ms. Fumble Fingers, dropping the menus, then added Shrew-of-the-Year to her titles while showing the group to their table.

Jennifer stepped behind the podium and stared at the reservation book, not really seeing the schedule of diners yet to arrive.

Even now, she thought, Jack MacAllister seemed to be somehow reaching out and touching her from way across the room. He was just so…there, and just so…male, and just so…

Heat feathered down her back, then wove into her to pulse low in her body. She shook her head in self-disgust, then looked at Jack from beneath her lashes.

Why? she wondered frantically. Why did that man have such a powerful and unsettling impact on her? He was just an ordinary man, for Pete’s sake.

Well, no, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d already conceded that Jack was an eleven on a scale of one to ten. He was so ruggedly handsome, so perfectly proportioned, and that thick, dark auburn hair of his was just begging to have feminine fingers sift through it.

And his eyes? Oh, those chocolate fudge sauce eyes mesmerized her and made it difficult to breathe.

Jennifer, stop it, she ordered herself, shifting her gaze back to the book. She was getting a grip—right now. All she had to do was bid Jack a pleasant goodbye as he left the dining room, and that would be that. She’d never see him again.

She frowned.

Wait a minute. Was he a guest at Hamilton House? If so, how long would he be staying in Prescott? Would he be popping into the dining room for dinner night after night? It stood to reason he’d be registered at his friend’s hotel, but for how many days?

It didn’t matter, she thought, lifting her chin. She’d been thrown off-kilter by Jack MacAllister for reasons she couldn’t begin to fathom. But she was on full-alert now, her protective walls firmly in place. She was hereby immune to the spell-weaving Mr. MacAllister, even if he smiled that knock-’emdead smile of his.

And the minute she got home tonight she was throwing away the flowers from Megan’s bridal bouquet. Unsuperstitious or not, she wasn’t taking any more chances.

Very good. She was back in control. Everything was fine. Thank heavens all of this ridiculous nonsense was at an end.

Jack listened absently as Aunt Charity related a tale of Brandon, Ben, Taylor and Jennifer’s mischievous deeds when they were children growing up together in Prescott.

Ah, here we go, he thought. Some people had just entered the dining room, which meant—yes, there it was…Jennifer’s smile. It lit up her face and caused those marvelous green eyes of hers to sparkle to the point where he was dazzled from across the room.

He’d watched her move through the tables with elegant, natural grace. She was femininity personified, and the heat throbbing low in his body told him that he was very aware of that fact, both mentally and physically. The fascinating Ms. Mackane was turning him inside out.

Which didn’t make one bit of sense.

Jennifer was the type of woman he steered clear of, big time. She was, as the saying went, encumbered—with a five-year-old son, a home, a life-style that virtually shouted that the missing ingredients were a husband and father. No way. That was not his scene, not even close.

He’d also learned that Jennifer wasn’t seeing anyone, wasn’t into the singles’ dating scene. She did not, therefore, know how to play the no-strings, no-commitment game.

Jennifer didn’t wish to remarry, which was a point in her favor. A shaky point. He’d heard that bit before, but when a guy came along who collected a hefty paycheck, lo and behold, how quickly that tune could change.

Nope, he wanted no part of the lovely Jennifer. She was more than a pleasure to look at, was feisty and funny, and dynamite when she got her temper in a roar, but he would cut a wide path around her during the remainder of his stay in Prescott.

Jack watched as Jennifer led a couple to a small table in the center of the room. The man spoke to her, and Jennifer laughed as she handed the pair their menus.

A flash of heat rocketed through him as he heard the lilting sound of Jennifer’s laughter. He shifted slightly in his chair and frowned.

Damn, he thought. Jennifer was pushing his libido buttons again. Why was she capable of doing that?

He controlled his actions and reactions toward women. He set the tempo, called the shots, and exited stage left at the first hint of possessiveness on the part of the woman in question.

He treated women with respect, showed them a good time, but he didn’t particularly trust them.

He sure didn’t know why Jennifer Mackane was able to hang him out to dry, but he’d had enough of it. She was upsetting his peace of mind and driving his raging body over the edge.

Why the hell was this happening to him—?

“Right, Jack?” Brandon said, snapping Jack back to attention.

“What?” Jack said. “Oh, sorry. I was off somewhere, I guess.”

“She’s thirty-three,” Aunt Charity said, “but she looks younger, don’t you think?”

“Who?” Jack said, an expression of pure innocence on his face.

“Give it up, hotshot,” Aunt Charity said. “I’ve been sitting here watching you watching Jennifer through this entire meal.”

“Me?” Jack said, raising his eyebrows. “Well, I may have glanced at her a time or two, but there’s no harm in looking at the scenery, Aunt Charity.”

“That’s true, dear,” Aunt Prudence said, “but you need to do more than look at our Jennifer. You should, as the gentleman I’m certain you are, speak with Jennifer privately and sincerely apologize for frightening her while you studied her home.”

“I thoroughly agree,” Andrea said decisively.

“Buy her some candy from the snazzy shop in the lobby,” Aunt Charity said, then paused. “On second thought, buy me some, too. I love the stuff.”

“Hey, I didn’t scare Jennifer intentionally,” Jack said. “It was a simple misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“Which needs to be put to rest properly,” Aunt Prudence said.

“You’re dead meat, buddy,” Brandon said, smiling. “Don’t argue the point any further, because you’d be wasting your breath. Apologize to Jennifer when you get the chance, and be done with it.”

“Mmm,” Jack said, glaring at Brandon.

“What I was saying to you when you were daydreaming,” Brandon went on, “is that you’re going to design our house while you’re in Prescott. I was bringing the aunts up to date on that.”

“Oh. Sure. Right,” Jack said, nodding. “That’s what I’m going to do, fantastic architect that I am. I’ll have those plans to you and Andrea before I head to Ventura for the MacAllister reunion. Man, Christmas is going to be a zoo with the whole clan together.”

“It sounds like fun,” Andrea said.

“I think the kids outnumber the adults by now,” Jack said. “The MacAllisters are into having babies, that’s for sure. I’ll have to learn how to talk to munchkin-type people, since I’m going to be part of the MacAllister architectural firm in Ventura. No more New York City rat race and brutal winters. Maybe I’ll even learn how to surf.”

“You did the smart thing by leaving New York,” Brandon said. “I’ve never been sorry I dropped out of the fast lane.” He smiled warmly at Andrea. “Coming home to Prescott was the best thing I ever did.”

“Thank you, love,” Andrea said, matching his smile.

“Jennifer’s hair is naturally curly,” Aunt Charity said. “No fancy perms or globby makeup for our girl.”

“Aunt Charity, would you cut it out?” Jack said. “I’m not interested in all the little details about your Jennifer. She has an interesting house that I’d love to do some restoration work on, and that’s it. Period.”

“I’m just chatting,” Aunt Charity said, batting her eyelashes at him.

Jack shook his head and laughed.

“Maybe flowers would be a better gift of apology for Jennifer,” Aunt Prudence said, pressing one fingertip to her chin. “Mmm. No, the chocolates are best, because Jennifer has fresh flowers at the moment. She caught the bridal bouquet at Megan and Ben’s wedding.”

“So you said,” Jack said, rolling his eyes heavenward. “Which means Jennifer is to be the next bride and blah, blah, blah. I hope she’ll be very happy with whatever guy she snags.”

“That’s the problem,” Aunt Charity said. “We can’t get Jennifer into snagging mode. Been working on that for years.”

“So, it’s settled, then?” Aunt Prudence said, leaning toward Jack. “You’ll purchase some dainty chocolates for Jennifer?”

Jack raised both hands in a gesture of defeat. “Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll buy the bribe and humbly apologize to Ms. Mackane. Can we change the subject now?”

“Yep,” Aunt Charity said. “I’m ready for a sinful dessert. Bring it on.”

The dining room at Hamilton House closed at eleven o’clock, then preparations were made for breakfast the next morning.

Just before midnight, Jennifer turned off the lights, locked the doors to the dining room, then walked along the hallway to the quiet lobby of the hotel.

She waved goodbye to the clerk on duty behind the registration desk, then headed toward the front doors, buttoning her coat as she went.

As she passed one of the high-back chairs, a figure rose, startling her and causing her to gasp and stumble a bit.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Jennifer frowned. “Oh? You seem to be making it your life’s work as far as I can tell.”

Jack closed the distance between them and extended a gold foil covered box toward Jennifer.

“My peace offering,” he said, smiling. “A token of sincere apology for upsetting you by staring at your house. Sweets for the sweet, and all that.”

Jennifer looked at the box, Jack’s face, the box, then narrowed her eyes as she met Jack’s gaze again.

“Aunt Pru and Aunt Charity put you up to this, didn’t they?” she said.

“Well…” Jack said slowly.

Jennifer sighed and took the offered box of chocolates. “All right. So be it. I accept your apology, and the whole business is forgotten. You didn’t have to stay up until midnight to do this.”

Jack shrugged. “I’m a night owl.” He paused. “May I walk you to your car?” What? he thought incredulously. Where did that come from? His intention had been to hand over the dumb candy, then head to his room and the soft bed that was waiting for him.

Jennifer laughed, and a bolt of heat shot through his body, causing him to frown at his now-familiar reaction to the lilting sound.