Hunk for the Holidays (33 page)

“You still owe me an apology.” The warmth of his lips caused her eyes to slide closed. “After all, I stood naked before all your neighbors to say I was sorry. The least you could do—”

A loud crash halted her words and jerked them apart.

“What the—?” James slid out from under her and headed down the hallway with her following close on his heels.

They both stopped at the doorway of the spare bedroom and stared at the top of the blue spruce that stuck in through the broken glass of the window.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” James said with a smile on his
face. “The kid was right. We were only inches away from cutting it down.”

“Cutting it down? Why were you cutting your tree down?”

He slipped an arm around her and tugged her close. “I was planning on giving it to a certain dark-haired beauty in the hopes she wouldn’t burn it to the ground.”

“You were going to give me a tree?” Her eyes got all watery as she looked up at him. “So you figured it out.”

He nodded. “But only after a night of hell and large pink bunnies.”

“Pink bunnies? What—?”

“Marry me.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

There wasn’t a hint of a smile on his firm, chiseled lips. “Marry me, Cassandra McPherson. I’m sorry for lying, but even then I was smart enough to know I didn’t want to lose you. So say you’ll marry me, and I’ll share a Christmas tree with you every year for the rest of our lives.”

After everything that had happened, her mind wandered around with no place to land and nothing to say. Thank God her heart knew.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” His arms tightened.

She paused. “But we probably should talk about how we want to raise our children. I mean, what religion—”

“You’re not Catholic?”

“Yes, but your neighbor said you were—”

James tipped back his head and laughed before hugging her close. “I was raised Catholic, Cassandra, so the only major obstacle we have is your father.”

She smiled. “In that case, how would you like to have Christmas dinner with a family of loving, but sometimes annoying, Scots?”

A couple hours later, they stood outside Cassie’s parents’ home, staring at the huge holly wreaths on the double doors. The house was lit with a mass confusion of colored lights while the lawn boasted a nativity scene, Santa and his reindeer, and a blow-up Frosty. All of which had been placed there earlier in the month by her brothers after numerous bottles of Guinness.

“I guess he wouldn’t kill me with so many witnesses,” James said dryly.

“That wouldn’t stop him.” Cassie tucked her arm through his and tried to pull him toward the front steps. “But my mother doesn’t allow fighting in her house. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“Right.” James didn’t look convinced; nor did he budge.

She shivered in the cold. “Come on, you big chicken. Let’s get this over with so we can get back to a warm bed. Although the plastic we taped over your window doesn’t exactly keep out the cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He pulled her into his arms, seemingly unconcerned with the falling snow or the freezing temperatures. “So let’s skip telling your family and go back to my house to enjoy our Christmas tree. Who knows, maybe Santa left you something.”

“That trick’s not going to work. Santa’s already given me my present.”

He arched his brow. “Really? And what would that be?”

Snow drifted down around his shoulders and head, glistening in the deep greens, blues, and reds of outdoor lights. It reminded her of the first time she had seen him, framed by the lights from the office Christmas tree.

She
had
been given a gift this holiday.

The best gift of all.

Love.

She smiled up at her best present ever. “He gave me you.”

All teasing left his eyes, and his arms tightened around her with the strength she’d come to know and trust. “In that case, let’s not keep your family waiting.”

From inside the house, Wheezie watched out the frosted window as James led Cassie up the pathway. If the arthritis in her hips hadn’t been acting up, Wheezie might’ve done a little jig. Instead she moved into the dining room, where the rest of the McPhersons had congregated for Christmas dinner.

“Set two more places, Mary Katherine,” she said. “Cassie’s here with Jimmy.”

Albert sent her a sour look as Mary Katherine smiled and got up to head for the kitchen. “I don’t know what you’re so happy about.”

“Give it up, Alby. Cassandra made a good choice.” She moved over to her seat between Patrick and Matthew. They were a handsome couple of bookends, she’d give them that. She shouldn’t have any trouble whatsoever finding them soul mates.

Albert released his breath in a weary sigh. “I guess I was just hoping to keep her with us for a while longer.”

She nodded her thanks to Patrick when he poured her a glass of whiskey. “What are you talking about? Cassandra isn’t going anywhere.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Jake said as he strapped Chase into his high chair. “Why would she work for us when she could work for her husband?”

Wheezie studied the amber liquid in her glass. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that. And it seems to me that M & S isn’t such a bad name for a construction company.”

Her words surprised the entire room, and every adult turned to Big Al to get his reaction. It didn’t take long. “M & S, huh?” he said thoughtfully.

“Personally,” Matthew said with a wicked sparkle in his eyes, “I think S & M has a better ring to it.”

The entire room erupted in laughter. The only person who didn’t laugh at the joke was Big Al. Although his eyes sparkled almost as mischievously as Matthew’s.

“What’s so funny?” Cassandra walked in with her arm hooked through Jimmy’s. It was obvious by her stance that if anyone wanted to tangle with her man they would have to go through her first. She didn’t have anything to worry about. McPhersons were stubborn, but loyal. If this was the man who made Cassie happy, they would welcome him with open arms. And there was little doubt that Cassie was happy. She looked as if she’d just found the rarest of treasures.

Wheezie figured she had.

“Matthew was just teasing your father,” Mary Katherine said as she set a place for them. “Now, sit down before the prime rib gets cold.”

“Prime rib?” Just the mention of beef had Albert smiling.

For the next few minutes, conversation remained at a minimum while Cassie and Jimmy took their seats and serving dishes were passed and glasses filled. Wheezie ignored her own plate in favor of watching her family. At the head of the table, Albert selected a huge slice of prime rib before flashing a loving look at Mary Katherine. Jake and Melanie hustled around, cutting up food for their brood of children, but still found time to share a quick kiss. Patrick and Matthew fought over why the Broncos hadn’t won their last game. Rory leaned down to whisper something in Gabby’s ear before shooting an innocent look at Amy. And Cassie and Jimmy just continued to stare at each other as if they were the only two people in the room.

Talk about treasures, Wheezie thought. God had certainly blessed her with a bountiful one. He hadn’t seen fit to give her children, but he’d given her a beautiful niece and four handsome nephews. And that was enough to keep her busy until her time here on earth was up.

She waited until the children had been served and everyone’s plate was filled to overflowing before she lifted her glass. “To the McPhersons! Merry Christmas and the happiest of New Years.”

Glasses were raised and the clinking of crystal filled the room, followed by a joyous echo. “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!”

Librarian Elizabeth Murphy lives a quiet life in Bramble—until she inherits the most infamous house of ill repute in Texas… and soon finds herself in bed with an even more infamous cowboy.

Please turn this page for a preview of

Trouble in Texas
.

Chapter Two

Henhouse Rule #12: When unexpected things arise… rejoice.

The second hand of the wall clock ticked past the ten, then on to the eleven. Elizabeth Murphy waited until its slender arm was perfectly aligned with the black minute hand, between the one and the two of the twelve, before she got up from her chair.

“The library is now closed,” she stated in the same no-nonsense voice she’d used since first accepting the job as librarian over fifteen years earlier. It was irrelevant that not a soul was in the library to hear her words. Her mother had taught her that rules and routine were what kept a person’s life on the straight and narrow.

And no one’s life was more straight and narrow than Elizabeth’s.

Without the slightest hesitation, she pushed open the gate in the circular counter and proceeded to walk down each long aisle. As she went, she tucked in protruding spines and checked for any misplaced titles.

Books were her babies.

She loved their woody, earthy smell. Loved the smooth, crisp feel of their pages. Loved the colorful book jackets and their straight, even spines. To a shy, awkward girl, they had been her teachers, her storytellers, her friends. To a single woman, they were her life.

She read all types of books, from nonfiction to fiction, from
New York Times
bestsellers to the reliable classics. If she had one fault, it was that she lost herself in a good story, forgoing sleep and food until she’d finished the last page. That was why she never started a book during the workweek. But this was Saturday afternoon, the start of her weekend, so she took the time to pick out a number of books to take home. She had just selected a historical romance from the paperback rack when someone spoke from behind her.

“What kinda books are those, Ms. Murphy?”

The paperback slipped from Elizabeth’s hand as she whirled around. Kenny Gene stood there in his tight Wranglers and pressed Western shirt, his eyes squinting at the cover of the book on the floor.

“That woman sorta looks like Shirlene Dalton,” he said. “Although if Shirlene paraded around with her bosom showin’ like that, not one man in Bramble would get any work done.”

Elizabeth held a hand to her chest. “You scared the daylights out of me, Kenny Gene. The library is closed. Didn’t you hear my announcement?”

His gaze flickered up from the book. “Uhh, I must’ve been in the men’s room.”

She released a long sigh at the obvious lie. “Kenny, I
thought we had this discussion before,” she said as she picked up the book. “If you don’t want to marry Twyla right now, you need to tell her—instead of avoiding her so you don’t have to set a date. Sooner or later, she’s going to figure out where you’ve been hiding.”

Kenny shook his head. “That’s doubtful, Ms. Murphy. The library is the last place on God’s green earth anyone would come lookin’ for me—although I gotta tell you that them Scooby-Doo books are downright entertainin’.”

It was hard to keep a stern face. Of all the people in Bramble, Texas, Kenny was the most lovable.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying them. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need to talk with Twyla. Just tell her what you told me—that you were thinking more a long engagement than a short one.”

“That might work with someone like you, Ms. Murphy. Old maids are much more logical than ordinary women. Probably because their hopes for snaggin’ a man are slim to none.”

His words should’ve offended Elizabeth, especially since she was only thirty-seven, but she couldn’t blame him. Or any of the people in Bramble. Not when she had worked so hard to achieve her old-maid anonymity.

“But Twyla don’t think the same way as you do,” Kenny continued. “That girl is hell bent for leather on being hitched, and after three times, I’d say she’s pretty good at it.”

Elizabeth bit back a smile. “I guess that depends on your point of view, Kenny.”

“Well, her point of view is targeted on me, especially with Shirlene’s weddin’ tonight. If Twyla catches
that bouquet, it’s all over for me. The town will have us hitched by winter.”

She couldn’t argue the point. The folks of Bramble loved weddings as much as they loved football. And everyone knew how much Texans loved their football.

Kenny’s eyes took on a speculative gleam. “ ’Course, I wouldn’t have to worry so much if some other woman caught it.”

“Excuse me?”

He did an excited little hop that looked like he needed to go to the men’s room after all. “You could catch the bouquet, Ms. Murphy, and then Twyla might think it was fate and be willin’ to give me a little more time.”

“Oh, no.” Elizabeth held up a hand. “It’s bad enough that I’m forced to stand there with all the young girls. I’m certainly not going to make an effort to catch it. I have no desire to get married.”

“Well, of course you don’t,” Kenny said. “And you won’t have to. No one will expect you to find a man.”

She ignored the insult and shook her head. “I’d love to help you out, Kenny, but I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“Just think about it, won’t you?” Kenny begged. “All I’m asking for is another year of freedom.”

It was hard to ignore his plea, especially when she enjoyed her own single status so much. “I’ll think about it.” She waved a hand toward the glass doors. “But for now, you need to let me close up so we can get ready for the wedding.”

Exactly fifteen minutes later, Elizabeth stood outside the double glass doors of the library. After checking them
twice to be sure they were locked, she slipped the keys in the side pocket of her tote bag and headed home.

Her house was not more than a few blocks from the library, a pretty little yellow brick with a picket fence and a festoon of colorful mums growing in the flower beds. The front gate got stuck when she tried to open it, and she made a mental note to buy some WD-40 at the hardware store on Monday. Once inside the front door, she was greeted by a soft
meow
as a warm, furry body pressed against her legs.