The Christmas Bliss Romance Collection

by Jennifer Youngblood

  Wyatt strode to the tree and plugged in the lights. Next, he turned on the gas logs, the cheerful, amber flames flowing around the logs like a mother’s arms embracing her baby.

  “Wow,” Haven uttered, emotion clogging her throat. “It’s beautiful.” She felt like she’d stepped into a Charles Dickens novel. She moved closer to the tree and touched the needles. “It’s real,” she mused as she leaned in and inhaled the faint scent of evergreen.

  He quirked a grin, his azure eyes twinkling. “Yes, although, I’d venture to say this one was selected from a tree lot rather than a farm.”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “That probably saved someone’s hands and feet from turning to blocks of ice.”

  He flashed a dazzling smile that caused her to lose her train of thought for a second. “Indeed.”

  Her stomach growled. She touched it, giving Wyatt a sheepish look. “Sorry.” Haven never had a chance to make herself anything to eat at her mother and Brynn’s apartment. She and Wyatt grabbed a few snacks when they stopped to get gas, but that was several hours ago. Haven was so famished she felt like her stomach was trying to eat her intestines.

  He laughed. “I’m hungry too. They keep the refrigerator stocked. We can either make something here or go out for dinner.”

  She tilted her head, curiosity getting the best of her. “Who’s they? I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude,” she said quickly when she saw the look of surprise on his face. Color flooded her cheeks. “I have a bad habit of speaking before I think.” And, she had a bad habit of jumping into things before she thought them through. It was harder being Brynn than she’d anticipated. The game idea she’d come up with on the drive had saved her bacon. She planned to keep that going as long as possible, so she could find out all necessary information in a non-suspicious way. Waves of guilt rolled through her as she thought about the subterfuge. Her aversion to being alone for Christmas had really gotten her into a jam. She was pathetic, she knew, but going on this trip with Wyatt was the most excitement she’d had in years. Was it so bad to try and grab a tiny sliver of happiness? No! She told herself fiercely, shushing the voice in her head.

  An easy grin split his lips. “No worries,” he said, referring to her question. “There’s a small staff that oversees the home.”

  “Oh. Your parents’ friends must be super wealthy if they employ a staff to take care of their guest cottage.”

  “Yeah, something like that.” He pumped his eyebrows. “So, do you wanna eat here or go out?”

  The thought of eating dinner here, alone, with Wyatt sounded like heaven. Then again, maybe it was better for them to be around other people. Being alone with Wyatt was personal, intimate. Every time their eyes met, desire warmed through her like blessed sunshine on a frigid day. As much as she wanted to give into the attraction, it wouldn’t be smart. After Christmas, they’d have to part ways.

  Maybe Haven should’ve reminded herself of that when Wyatt held her hand earlier. Her world had stopped spinning, and all she could think about was how his hand felt over hers. She felt protected and secure, yet so exquisitely alive. The more time Haven spent around Wyatt, the more she thought her sister was an imbecile for ditching him. “Do people often stay here at the cottage?” Her tongue caught on the word cottage. Mansion, she added mentally.

  He pushed his hands into his pockets as he rocked forward on the balls of his feet. “Yeah, people stay here off and on.”

  “The owner must be close to your family to let you stay here.”

  A faint smile touched his lips. “Yeah.”

  Haven got the feeling he was evading the topic. Wyatt was a doctor, and his family didn’t think that was a worthy enough profession to deem him responsible. He drove a Range Rover—an eighty-thousand-dollar vehicle. His family had access to a mansion that he considered a “cottage.” Did Wyatt come from wealth? If so, Haven was surprised Brynn had dismissed him so easily. Then again, Brynn probably thought Malcolm Chase was the better catch because of his celebrity status … and he was taking her to Ireland. From where Haven was standing, Wyatt was definitely the better pick.

  “Let me give you the two-cent tour and then we can decide about dinner.” Wyatt followed her eyes to the spectacular view of the bay through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spanning the back of the home. “The bay is much prettier in the summertime.”

  Haven walked over to the windows, looking past the covered patio, to the long, wooden pier leading out to the placid water of Chesapeake Bay, silver with frost. Snowflakes danced happily in the wind, free and unencumbered by the worries of the world. She put a hand to the window. “It’s incredible.”

  He stepped up beside her, a note of nostalgia sounding in his voice. “When I was a kid, I used to love going swimming out there. I’d run as hard as I could to the end of the pier and jump.” A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Once, I got a splinter stuck in my foot. I went squalling to my mom. She tried to persuade me to let her remove it, but I wanted my dad instead. Of course, Dad was away on a business trip. Mom explained that he wouldn’t return for two more days. I could either let her remove it or live with a splinter until Dad got back.”

  She smiled, picturing in her mind how Wyatt must’ve looked as a kid. Probably gangly and tall, mischievous eyes, with his glorious mop of sun-kissed hair. “What did you do?”

  “The splinter stayed in my foot for a day. It hurt like Hades. Finally, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I let my mom remove it.”

  She turned to him, tipping her head to the side. “Are you closer to your dad than your mom? Is that why you wanted him to remove the splinter?”

  “Nah, I’m close to both my parents. I guess I just thought my dad had everything under control. He was perfect in my eyes, back then.” He offered a rueful smile, pushing a hand though his hair.

  Haven could tell there was friction between Wyatt and his dad. Understandable if his dad felt like Wyatt didn’t measure up.

  “Would you like to see the rest of the cottage? I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping and then I’ll get your luggage out of the car.”

  “I can help.”

  He quirked a grin, giving her a faint look of reproof. “It wouldn’t be very gentleman-like of me to let you haul in your own luggage, now would it?”

  Wyatt seemed so perfect, she could hardly believe he was real. She took in his rugged features, the intelligent light in his clear blue eyes, the firm set of his chiseled jaw. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He stepped closer, causing her breath to freeze momentarily. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured, trailing the side of his index finger over her cheek. His arm encircled her waist, pulling her closer.

  Adrenaline surged through her as his masculine scent enveloped her senses. She saw the slow-burning desire in his eyes. He’s going to kiss me, her mind screamed with jubilation. Her lips parted expectantly, she rested her palms on his chest. His muscles felt hard and ripped under his sweater. Geez. Did he live in a gym?

  His phone rang in his pocket, breaking the spell.

  “Maybe you should get that,” she said, remorsefully.

  He sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He reached in his pocket and fished out the phone. “Hello,” he quipped. “Hey, Mom … good to hear your voice too. We’re in Annapolis. We’re planning on staying in North Carolina tomorrow night and will arrive on Wednesday.” He grinned at Haven. “Yep, Brynn’s right here beside me. She’s looking forward to meeting you too. All right, Mom. Talk to you later. Love you. Bye,” he said, ending the call.

  Crud! Haven really should’ve thought this thing through. Now Wyatt’s family wanted to meet her … or Brynn. The good news was that none of them had ever met Brynn, so she could just be herself and not worry about it. It was touching to hear the warmth in Wyatt’s voice as he talked to his mom. For some strange reason, it made her miss her dad even more. She swallowed the lump in her throat, then realized Wyatt was watching her with a look of compassion, as if he could read her
thoughts.

  He motioned with his head. “Come on. I’ll show you upstairs and then we’ll go and grab something to eat.”

  “Oh? We’re eating out?” She felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.

  “Yep. I thought I’d take you to Oscar’s for the best clam chowder you’ll ever eat.”

  Her mouth watered. “Sounds like a great plan.”

  He put a hand on the small of her back, steering her toward the staircase. Her cells danced at the feel of his touch. Wow. What is the deal? I just met this guy a few hours ago? Worse, he thinks I’m my sister! Breathe. Don’t dwell on the negative, she ordered herself. Enjoy yourself for once!

  After all, of one thing Haven was certain—Brynn hadn’t given a second thought to her or Wyatt after she traipsed out the door to meet Malcolm Chase. Why waste time fretting over potential trouble this might cause Brynn? The answer came in a flash. She wasn’t worried about Brynn. She was worried about Wyatt and what he would think of her if he ever learned the truth.

  * * *

  Haven relaxed in her seat and touched her stomach. She’d eaten so much she felt like she’d pop, not just of the chowder but of the crusty bread and crisp salad with tangy, Italian dressing.

  “It wasn’t pizza, but I hope it sufficed,” Wyatt teased.

  A contented smile curled her lips as she shrugged nonchalantly. “It was okay.” She couldn’t contain her mirth when his face fell. “That was beyond a doubt the most delicious clam chowder I’ve ever eaten.” It was amazing chowder, but the company was even better. Conversation flowed effortlessly between Haven and Wyatt as he reminisced further about coming to Annapolis with his family during the summers.

  She looked across the table at Wyatt. The flickering light from the candle on their table highlighted the firm lines of his lean jaw. It wasn’t merely Wyatt’s good looks that drew Haven to him. She’d met many men who were handsome to look at, but their dull personalities were a bore to be around. Wyatt, on the other hand, had a quicksilver personality and charisma—drawing others to him. Haven imagined that his patients loved him. As if Wyatt wasn’t hard enough to resist, the ambiance of the venerable restaurant in the heart of the Annapolis historic district added to the experience.

  The Dickensian theme continued with the cobblestone roads and colorful, Colonial-style buildings. They were sitting at the front of the restaurant, beside a large window. Haven looked out at the old-fashioned lampposts lining the street. Soft light haloed around the lamps, highlighting the circling snowflakes. The light dusting of snow on the street and sidewalk made everything feel clean and untouched. Excitement simmered in Haven’s chest. Maybe this would be a wonderful Christmas, after all. Her misgivings about her deception slipped away like shadows yielding to sunlight when curtains are drawn.

  A lopsided smile tugged at the corner of Wyatt’s lips. “A penny for your thoughts.”

  “I was thinking how glad I am to be here with you.”

  He responded with a disarming smile that showcased his perfect, white teeth. “Me too.”

  Reflexively, she touched his hand, sending tingles through her. In a deft movement, he turned his hand over and clasped hers. He leaned forward and lightly traced the bones of her hand with his finger.

  “You have such delicate hands,” he mused.

  For a second, she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Her senses were wrapped in a euphoric cocoon, encapsulating her and Wyatt. He searched her eyes. “What now?” he implored, his voice achingly tender.

  She sensed he was asking for something much more significant than what they were doing next. Her heart leapt with anticipation. Could she tell him the truth? What would he think if he knew she wasn’t a glamorous designer, but a small-town schoolteacher to a motley group of first graders? Could they make it work? A long-distance relationship between NYC and Red Rose, Tennessee. It could work, right? Blood pounded a hurried beat against her temples. Somehow, she managed to push out the words that squeaked through her dry throat. “Wyatt, there’s something I need—”

  “Charlie? Is that you?” a woman in her late fifties asked as she approached the table. She was immaculately dressed in a red coat, her glossy, blonde hair cropped in a stylish cut. The woman’s eyes rested on their clasped hands.

  Haven was confused. Who was Charlie?

  Wyatt released Haven’s hand and stood, embracing the woman in a hug. “Hi, Mrs. Matthews.”

  “Oh, call me Maude,” she countered with a shudder. “Mrs. Matthews sounds so old.”

  “Maude, you never get any older. You’re as beautiful as always,” Wyatt replied smoothly in a genuine tone.

  “Look at you, Mr. Charming,” Maude cooed, her face flushing with pleasure.

  Haven grinned inwardly at the adoring look Maude gave Wyatt. His charisma and charm had women eating out of the palm of his hand, Haven included.

  Maude cocked her head. “I didn’t realize you were coming in for the holidays. Are Charles, Beverly, and the girls with you? We’re having a dinner party tomorrow evening, and would love for you all to join us.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but they’re in Atlanta. I’m just passing through, headed that direction.”

  “That’s too bad,” Maude lamented, her lips turning down. “I would’ve loved to have seen them.”

  Wyatt motioned at Haven. “Maude, this is Brynn.”

  Maude nodded, offering a warm smile. “Hello, Brynn.”

  Haven thrust out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Maude clasped it in a brief shake before turning her attention back to Wyatt.

  “Are you going caroling?” She lifted the sleeve of her coat and looked at her diamond encrusted watch. “They should be coming down the street any minute now.”

  Wyatt shook his head, letting out a deflated sigh. “Maude, you ruined the surprise.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maude said, her eyes turning troubled.

  Wyatt laughed easily, placing a reassuring hand on Maude’s arm. “No worries.” He winked. “Brynn will still love it. I wanted her to have an authentic caroling experience the way only Annapolis does it.”

  “That’s right,” Maude said, pride ringing in her voice. She looked toward the door. “I’d better go and find my husband.” She let out a deviant chuckle. “He’s bringing the grandkids. I’m sure he’s ready to pull out what little hair he has left. It was good seeing you, Charlie. Tell your folks hello for me.” She looked at Haven. “Nice meeting you.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” Haven replied automatically, pinning Wyatt with a look. Maybe she wasn’t the only one harboring secrets. “So … Charlie?”

  He gave her a sheepish grin. “It’s Charles, actually, like my dad. Wyatt’s my middle name.”

  “Maude seems to know you and your family well. You must come here often. It’s a good thing the owner of the cottage is so fond of your family—to let you stay frequently.” There was definitely more to Wyatt than met the eye. She suspected that his family owned the cottage. Why not come right out and say it? Then again, who was she to judge? Wyatt would freak if he knew he was traveling with the wrong sister, an imposter.

  “Yes, it is.” He glanced at the ticket on the table, then pulled out his wallet and slapped down two twenties. “You ready to go caroling?”

  Haven didn’t try to hide the stupid grin on her face. “I’ve never gone caroling before.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Well, you’re in for a treat.”

  They put on their coats and headed out of the restaurant into the gathering crowd, many of whom were holding glass cylinders with lit candles. Wyatt tugged on the sleeve of a passing teenager. “Where did you get the candles?”

  The boy pointed. “There’s a stand around the corner.”

  “You stay here, and I’ll grab us a couple of candles.”

  “Okay.” Haven hugged her arms, the wind cutting through her thin, cotton coat. She’d planned to purchase something more substantial this winter but used her extra funds to buy a plane ticket to
New York and presents for her mom and Brynn.

  “I’ll be right back,” Wyatt said, jogging down the street.

  Snowflakes dotted Haven’s face. She blinked a few times to rid her lashes of them. Excitement tingled in the air as people stood on the sides of the cobblestone street, almost as though they were waiting for a parade to start. A blip of red curls, peeking out below a knit hat, caught her eye. Two feet away, a little girl was walking. Haven looked around to see where the parents were, but the girl appeared to be alone. Her stomach clutched. That wasn’t good. The girl couldn’t be older than four or five years old. She turned so that Haven caught a glimpse of her face—red-rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks. Oh, no! The girl was lost. Haven stepped up to her and touched her arm. “Hello.”

  The little girl jerked like she was going to flee.

  “It’s okay,” Haven said soothingly, squatting down so she was eye-level. “What’s your name?”

  The girl shrank back, ducking her head in her coat.

  “My name is Haven.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized her folly. Shoot! Should she correct herself? Then again, the girl was so petrified, she’d probably not even processed what Haven said. “Are you lost?”

  The girl’s lower lip trembled, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I want my mommy.”

  Haven rubbed her arm. “It’s okay. I’ll help you find her. What’s your name?” she repeated.

  “M—Maggie,” she uttered haltingly.

  “Okay.” She clasped Maggie’s hand in hers and stood. “Look at the people around us. Do you see your mommy?”

  Slowly, Maggie shook her head no, fear filling her dark eyes.

  Haven tried to think. There had to be a police station nearby. Maggie’s mother was probably frantically searching for her. It would be horrifying to lose a child amidst this crowd. “Don’t worry. We’ll find your mommy.” She gave Maggie a comforting smile.

  Haven felt a wave of relief when she spotted Wyatt, hurrying to reach her. He was holding two candles, one in each hand. He gave her a funny look when he saw Maggie. “Who’s this?”