Marriage Under the Mistletoe

He stretched out his legs and she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at his thighs.

I really need to pull myself together...and fast.

She went for a rabbit in a hat. “So, your girlfriend couldn’t come on this trip with you?”

“I’m single,” he replied flatly.

“Sorry,” she said automatically. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

He looked at her again. She felt the burning intensity of his gaze through to her blood. He wasn’t fooled, either. She wanted to know, foolishly, if there was a woman in his life. And she felt stupid. Incredibly stupid. Like a silly teenager gushing over the new boy in school.

She glanced at him, hoping he didn’t notice, and wondered where all these sudden hormones had come from. Okay, so he wasn’t a boy. He was the furthest thing from a boy.

But he’s young. Way younger than acceptable.

Boy-Toy sprang to mind. Ridiculous. Cougar followed on its tail, racing around in her head like a chant, telling her to stop dreaming impossible dreams.

“I broke up with my ex-girlfriend over a year ago.”

Evie looked at Scott again, slanting her gaze sideways while concentrating on the road ahead. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

She gripped the steering wheel. “I guess...” Her words trailed, then stopped. “Actually I’m usually not one for platitudes. So I’ll happily take that back and stop sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty nose, don’t you think?”

Evie’s skin tingled. He turned a good line. She pointed to a stack of CDs in the center console. “You can choose some music if you like.”

He took a moment before flicking through the pile, and then Jack Johnson’s voice filtered through the cab.

“Good pick,” she said on a sharp breath.

“You sound surprised?”

Evie stared directly ahead. “My son tossed them to me this morning. I had no idea what he’d chosen. I expected—”

“That I’d go for something a little less mellow?”

“I guess.”

“I was raised on a steady diet of jazz from my father, and classic bands like The Eagles and Bread from my mom, who was, and still is a seventies purist,” he explained. “I like most types of music.”

Evie felt distinctly put in her place. “Sorry.”

“That’s a favorite word of yours.”

Around you it is. But she didn’t say it. All she wanted to do was stop thinking about his washboard belly, unfairly cute dimple and nice voice.

“I’ll just...” she began, and then stalled because she knew he was looking at her, summing her up and working her out. “I’m really quite okay to not talk if you’d prefer. You’ve had a long flight and I’m...”

He laughed softly. “Chill out, Evie,” he said with a grin she couldn’t see but knew was on his lips. “I can cope without conversation.”

He settled back in the seat and Evie drew in a sharp breath, feeling like such a fraud. She wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why. She only knew that in a matter of hours, her life—the life she’d lived for so many years—seemed a lot like a life half-lived.

It was as though she’d been asleep for years, not thinking, not wondering. But Evie was wondering now. And she was awake. Wide awake.

Chapter Two

Scott woke up in a strange bed. He rolled onto his back, blinked twice and took stock of his surroundings. A nice room with sloping walls. A comfortable mattress. Clean sheets that smelled like fresh-squeezed lemons. Another scent caught his attention. Coffee. And vanilla.

Green eyes, lips the color of ripe California cherries, dark curly hair dancing down a woman’s back.

Evie Dunn.

Scott quickly remembered where he was. I’m in Evie’s bed.

Well, not technically her bed. Although that idea unexpectedly appealed to him when he inhaled another whiff of coffee laced with vanilla. A bed in her house. And not in the B and B part of the big home. These were her private quarters. That had surprised him. But she’d explained how the rooms were fully booked over the holiday season and with Callie and Noah’s wedding organized so suddenly she hadn’t time enough to change her bookings.

He checked the clock on the bedside table. Six o’clock. He’d been asleep for over nine hours. When they’d arrived at Dunn Inn the night before, he’d pretty much crashed within half an hour of dumping his duffel at the end of the bed.

Scott’s stomach growled. He was hungry. And his body ached. He swung out of bed and planted his feet on the floorboards. I need a run. He stood, stretched and then rummaged through his bag for sweats. It’s summer here, remember? He opted instead for shorts and a T-shirt, pulled on socks and trainers, found his iPod and left the room.

He headed down the hall and took the flight of stairs. The rich scent of coffee hit him again as he got to the side door and the private entrance Evie told him he could use. He could hear voices coming from the guest area and main kitchen and fought the urge to follow the sound. She was obviously busy. But he looked forward to seeing those sparkling green eyes again.

Once outside, Scott got a good look at the house. It was huge and had long windows protected by timber shutters and a gabled roof. He walked backward out of the front yard to the garden. Then he turned and was struck by the most incredible view of the Pacific Ocean barely one hundred meters away. As kids he and Callie had vacationed in the nearby town of Bellandale a few times, where their father had been born. But Scott had never seen Crystal Point before. Callie had told him about it, of course, and he’d listened to his sister’s stories about small-town life and the camaraderie among the residents and how she’d been readily accepted by the community. And Scott knew her marriage to Noah Preston would cement that bond and she’d never return to California.

He looked toward the ocean, inhaling deeply. The sea was as flat as glass and he spotted a couple of fishing boats on the horizon. He liked this place. Especially when he looked to his left and spotted Evie Dunn pounding the pavement on incredibly athletic legs. She jogged toward him, zigzagging across a wide stretch of grass between the road and the footpath. Black shorts flipped across her thighs as she moved. She wore a white tank shirt, bright pink socks and flashy new trainers, and her glorious hair was pulled back and tied up beneath an equally pink visor. Scott swallowed hard. She looked vibrant and wholly desirable.

“Hey,” she said, coming to a halt about six feet in front of him. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early.” She took in big gulps of air and planted her hands on her hips.

“I told you I run,” he said, trying not to look as though he was checking her out. He managed a smile and kept his gaze level with hers. “Perhaps next time we could go together?”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Well, I’d better go inside. I’ve got hungry guests waiting.”

She smiled and headed off past him at a slow jog. Scott turned instinctively and watched her until she disappeared around the side of the house. He liked the way she moved. He liked her curvy, athletic body.

A jolt of attraction ran through him, stronger this time. Not what he wanted. Definitely not. She wasn’t the casual kind of woman like those he’d been seeing since he’d broke up with Belinda. Evie Dunn looked like the kind of woman who’d want permanence—and more than that—she looked like the kind of woman who’d need permanence.

And that’s not me.

Commitment had no place in his life. He had his job—a job he had to prove to himself that he could do without distraction.

He put the earbuds in place and turned up the volume on the iPod. Stretching his travel-weary muscles for a few minutes, he then went for a long run and decided not to think about Evie’s great legs, or lovely hips or bright green eyes. He would just have to forget all about her.

* * *

The Manning sisters had been coming to Dunn Inn for nine years. Both in their seventies, both widows who’d married twin brothers, they shared a profound camaraderie that Evie knew she’d have with her own sisters throughout the years. Her sisters were her best friends, her confidantes, her conscience, her troubleshooters. She wondered what they would think of her new houseguest—or the semierotic dream she’d had about him the night before.

Evie listened to Flora Manning explain her newest recipe for double chocolate fudge brownies while she served them breakfast in the main dining room. Sticklers for tradition, the sisters preferred to have all their meals in the bigger room, and forgo Evie’s usual and more casual approach of breakfast in the kitchen. Most of her guests favored that particular meal at the long wooden table where they could chat among themselves and with Evie.

But the Manning sisters liked the good china and the pressed tablecloths and the fresh flowers Evie always maintained in the formal dining area. And because her next guests weren’t arriving until that afternoon, Evie gave Flora and Amelia a little extra attention.

“Did we see you talking with a man outside?” Amelia asked as she sipped her tea.

Evie looked up from her spot at the buffet table. There was clearly nothing wrong with the Manning sisters’ eyesight despite their recent protestations about their failing senses. “He’s here for my brother’s wedding.”

“Ah,” Flora said, nodding to her sister. “Told you so.”

“Mmm,” she replied, and placed a rack of toast and petite pots of marmalade on a serving plate.

“He’s a nice-looking young man,” Amelia said.

Definitely nothing wrong with their eyesight. “I guess he is.”

“And he’s staying until after the wedding?” Amelia asked.

Evie nodded. “Up until New Year’s, I believe.”

The sisters shared another look. “Is he a relative of yours?”

“No,” she replied. “He’s Callie’s brother. As you know, Callie’s engaged to my brother.”

Two sets of silver eyebrows rose. “Is he married?”

“No.”

Another look—this one a little triumphant. “Straight?” Flora, the more to-the-point sister, asked.

Evie smiled to herself. “Yes.”

“You should find yourself a man.” Flora again, never one to hold back, spoke as she smoothed out her perfectly groomed chignon. “Your son needs a father.”

Heat prickled up her spine. “He has a father.”

Flora tutted. “A ghost,” she said. “The same ghost you cling to.”

Evie’s hands stilled. “Not a ghost,” she said, probably a little sharper than she would have liked. But she knew the sisters’ cared about her. Telling it how they saw it was simply their way. “Just memories of a good man.”

“Just promise you’ll think about it,” Amelia said with a soft smile. “Now, when are you going to finish decorating the house?”

Good question. With Christmas only weeks away Evie usually had all the trimmings up. Granted, the beautiful cypress tree stood center stage in the living room and looked remarkable with its jewel-colored decorations and lights. Noah usually helped her with the rest of the garlands and tinsel she always scattered around the big house. But this year was different. He and Callie had their own home to decorate, and Evie hadn’t wanted to bother her brother simply because she wasn’t tall enough to finish decking the halls.

“I’ll get to it as soon as I can,” she promised, thinking the ladder in the shed out back would do the trick.

She returned to the main kitchen and left the sisters with their breakfast. She was just stacking the dishwasher when the door connecting the guest quarters and the stairwell leading to her private residence opened. Her sleepy-looking son emerged.

“Good morning,” she greeted.

“We’re out of milk upstairs,” he muttered, eyes half-closed.

Evie opened the refrigerator and took out a plastic carton of milk for her cereal-addicted son. “Try and make it last past this afternoon,” she teased.

“Sure,” he said. “Hey, can I have twenty bucks? There’s a computer gaming party at Cody’s tomorrow night and we all want to pitch in for snacks.”

Evie raised one brow. “What happened to your allowance this week?”

He shrugged. “I could say the dog ate it.”

“We don’t have a dog.”

“But we should get one,” Trevor said, swiftly employing his usual diversion tactics as he draped one arm across her shoulders and grinned. “It could be a guard dog. Especially for those times when I’m not here and you’re all alone.”

“I’m rarely alone,” Evie said. “We have a seventy-five-percent occupancy rate, remember?”

“I remember. So, about that twenty bucks?”

“If you help me put up the rest of the Christmas decorations tonight, I’ll consider it.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Well, I have to—”

“No help, no snack money.”

Her son’s dark hair flopped across his forehead. “Okay,” he agreed begrudgingly. “But I’m not wearing a Santa hat while I do it like you made me last year.”

“Spoilsport.” She checked her watch. “You better go upstairs and finish breakfast. Cody’s mother will be here soon to drive you to school.” She took a few strides toward him and gave his cheek a swift kiss. “And don’t forget the milk.”

As one young male raced out of the room, another walked right on in through the back door. Only this young man set her pulse soaring. It should be illegal for any man to have arms like that. The pale blue T-shirt did little to disguise the solid muscle definition. She spotted a Celtic braid tattoo banding his right biceps. Oh, sweet heaven.

Scott smiled when he saw where he’d ended up. “I think I took the wrong door.”

Evie managed not to look him over as if he were a very tasty hot lunch. He looked as though he’d been running hard. His hair, a kind of dark hazelnut color, stuck to his forehead in parts while sweat trickled down his collarbone.

“You should find yourself a man.”

Flora Manning’s words returned with vengeance. Should she? Was that what she wanted? Sure—Evie was attracted to him. Any woman would be, right? He was young and gorgeous and had somehow kick-started her sleeping sexuality. But it was just lust. Just attraction. And attraction was...well, pointless if it wasn’t backed up with something more, wasn’t it? With Gordon she’d had more. She’d had love and loyalty. A marriage. Happiness.

Evie swallowed. “It’s a big house. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“I don’t remember much of the tour you gave me last night, I’m afraid,” he said, just a little breathless.

“Did you sleep okay?”

He nodded and took in a few gulps of air. “Like a baby.”

Evie had a startling image in her head of long, powerful legs and smooth silk-on-steel skin wrapped in cotton bedsheets. She cleared her throat in an effort to stop her thoughts from wandering any further. “Breakfast will be upstairs.”

“You’re joining me?”

“Er—yes. I just have to see to my guests.” She quickly explained about the Manning sisters.

“I’ll see you upstairs, then,” he said, and chose that moment to grab the hem of his T-shirt and wipe the sweat from his face. Evie’s eyes almost popped out of her head as she caught sight of the most amazing abs she’d ever seen. A six-pack. A twelve-pack. She could swear he’d heard the rush of breath from her lips and felt the vibration of her heart pounding like an out-of-control jackhammer.

“Yeah...okay.”

He disappeared through the door that led upstairs, and it wasn’t until she heard his footsteps on the top of the landing that she left the kitchen and returned to the dining room. The sisters were still sipping tea and peeling the crusts off toast, and Evie collected a few dishes and told them she’d be back later for the rest. When she was done in the main kitchen, she headed upstairs. She could hear water running in the guest bathroom and relaxed fractionally. Trevor was placing his empty cereal bowl in the sink when she entered the kitchenette and pantry. They heard the familiar beep of a horn outside.

“That’s my ride. I gotta go.” Trevor grabbed his knapsack and left on fast feet.

Evie filled the jug and pulled two mugs from the cupboard. By the time Scott reappeared about ten minutes later, she’d chopped fruit and set the small table she usually only shared with her son.

Faded jeans fitted over his hips, and the black T-shirt did little to disguise the breadth of his broad shoulders and flat stomach. His feet were bare, his hair freshly washed. He smelled clean and extraordinarily masculine. The mood felt uncomfortably intimate and Evie suddenly regretted agreeing to allow him to stay in her home. Downstairs would have been better. Downstairs was about business. Upstairs was her private world. A world she shared with her son. A world no man had entered for ten years.

He looked around and then pulled out a chair. “This is an incredible house,” he said easily. “You have good taste.”

And I’ll bet you taste good...

She cleared her throat and held up the jug. “Coffee?”

“For sure.” He sat down. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?”

Desperate to change the subject, Evie grabbed a couple of slices of bread. “So, how do you like your toast?”

He smiled. “However you’d like to give it to me,” he said, and looked at the bread flapping in her hands.

Evie did her best to ignore the inflammatory words and placed the bread in the toaster, set out two plates and grabbed the diced fruit. Once the toast popped and the jug boiled, she poured coffee and moved toward the small table.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, taking the coffee she slid across the table. “About anything you need doing around the place while I’m living with you.”

Evie felt the familiarity of his words down to her feet. She should have insisted he stay at her parents’ house instead of volunteering to keep him at Dunn Inn. Keep him? She meant have him. No, that wasn’t right, either. I’m not having him. I’m not having anyone.

“I’ve got it covered. Besides, you’re on vacation, aren’t you?” she asked as she placed the food on the table and shifted her thoughts from his fabulous abdominals to a more neutral topic.

“I guess,” he replied, and placed toast on a plate. When she remained silent he looked up. “I’d like to earn my keep, though.”

“You’re a guest,” she said quietly.

“And family,” he said, and bit into a piece of toast. “We’ll be in-laws soon enough.”

Evie met his blue eyes head-on.

“So, family does stuff for one another, right?”

Ever cautious, Evie narrowed her gaze. “What did you have in mind?”

“You tell me,” he said easily. “It’s a big house—I imagine there are always things that need doing.”

I need doing came to mind and color immediately rose over her cheeks. She wanted Sensible Evie to come back. She needed her to come back before she made a complete fool of herself. But Sensible Evie had deserted her. In her place was I Haven’t Had Sex In Ten Years Evie, and she was suddenly a strong, undeniable force.

“I’ll let you know,” she said. “But like I said, I’ve got it covered.”

“You don’t like taking help from people?”

Evie sucked in a breath. “Sure I do,” she said, lying through her teeth. “But I’m well practiced at doing what needs to be done through both habit and necessity.”

“So I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes by being here?” he asked, watching her with such burning scrutiny she had to turn her eyes away.

Evie knew what the question meant, knew he’d probably wondered if she had a man in her life. “No. There’s just me and my son.”

“Hard to believe,” he said quietly.

She returned her gaze to his immediately. “What? That I’m single or that I choose to be that way?”

He smiled. “That you’re not beating them off with a stick.”

“Who says I’m not?”

Evie tried to look casual, tried to make out as though her heart wasn’t thumping stupidly behind her ribs. But it was. In fact, her entire body was thumping—like a runaway train, like a horse galloping out of control.

“I stand corrected.”

He was smiling and that incredible dimple showed itself. Okay, so she wasn’t exactly turning potential lovers away at the door. But she’d had a few offers over the years. None she’d pursued.

“Are you okay, Evie?”

No...but she wasn’t about to tell Mr. Great Body And Gorgeous Dimple that she was hot and bothered because of him. “Perfectly.”

But he wasn’t fooled. And neither was she. Something hung between them. Something unsaid. She picked at the fruit in front of her to avoid saying anything else. Once breakfast was over he offered to wash up. Evie was about to refuse when she heard the downstairs door open and a familiar voice called her name.

“That’s Callie,” Evie said, and pushed out her chair. Scott did the same and moments later the kitchen door opened and his sister entered the room.

Callie stood in the threshold and her gaze flicked over them. Evie felt the scrutiny through to her bones. The kitchen was small, cozy, intimate. Evie knew the other woman could feel the invisible current in the air as much as she could.

Callie quickly came into the room and flung herself at her brother in an affectionate hug. Noah wasn’t far behind and once Evie returned the keys to his truck the two men shook hands, quickly summed each other up as men seemed to be able to do without even speaking and started a quiet conversation. Then Callie headed Evie off by the sink.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Callie said on a rush of breath. “I mean, for picking up my little brother.”

Little brother? Sure. Evie was struck by the remarkable resemblance between the siblings. Her soon-to-be sister-in-law was quite beautiful and Evie knew how deeply Noah loved the spirited and passionate brunette.

“No thanks necessary,” she said, and set the dishes on the draining board. “It’s—”

“Family,” Callie said. “Yeah, I know. But I still appreciate it. I can’t believe all the connecting flights from Brisbane to Bellandale were booked up.”

“There’s the big air show on this weekend,” Evie explained. “Every flying enthusiast from around the state travels here for it. Same thing happens each year.” She grabbed her rubber gloves. “Are the kids at my parents’?”

“Yes. We dropped them off before we came over here.” Callie leaned back against the melamine countertop. “Matthew’s enjoying the cast on his arm. Crazy to think we’re at the end of the school year already. But I’m so looking forward to Christmas.”

Evie smiled. “You are getting married Christmas Eve.”

“Self-indulgent, I know,” Callie said with such a blissfully happy grin Evie felt a tiny stab of envy. “Speaking of all things wedding—you and Fiona have an appointment with the dressmaker next Thursday at ten o’clock.”

“It’s on my list,” Evie replied. “Fiona called me a few days ago to confirm.” Fiona Walsh was the other bridesmaid in the wedding party and a friend of both Callie and Evie. “I’ll be there.”

“And thanks so much for your help with the caterers,” Callie said. “I can’t believe we’ve managed to organize all this in a little over a month. You’re a genius. And a good friend.”

“It’s a special day,” Evie said, and grinned. “And I like planning things.”

“Fortunately for me.”

“It will be a perfect evening,” she assured her, sensing a few bride-to-be nerves in the usually composed Callie. “My brother’s a lucky man.”

Callie smiled dreamily. “I’m the lucky one.”

The stab of envy returned and Evie squashed it down in a hurry. She wouldn’t begrudge Callie her happiness. “You’re both lucky. So are the kids.”

Her friend looked radiant. Have I ever looked like that?

Yes, of course. Absolutely. Without a doubt.

She’d loved Gordon since she was seventeen years old. He’d been her first kiss, first lover...her only lover. They’d shared dreams, values and the joy of raising their young son. And something else, a bond between two people so in tune with each other’s thoughts, so completely at ease with each other it was as if they were halves of the same whole. And Evie didn’t expect to ever have that again. And she wasn’t about to throw herself out there looking for it.