Harlequin Superromance November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Christmas at the CoveNavy ChristmasUntil She Met Daniel

by Rachel Brimble

  “What kind of lawyer are you?”

  “Family practice. Not the typical mother who brings her kid into the clinic for a runny nose, am I?”

  Ouch.

  Another verbal punch to the gut. Serena had overheard more of his conversation with Doc Franklin than he’d realized.

  He needed her to understand that he had nothing against her or Pepé.

  “I asked for Whidbey as my shore duty station before I left on deployment. Usually I’m at a more demanding duty station at a larger hospital. I’m an emergency-room trauma nurse practitioner.” Damn it, why did he feel he had to give her his entire professional résumé? Why did he care what she thought?

  “I imagine you’ve seen a lot.” She stood up from the table and took her cup to the sink.

  He chalked up the long look he allowed himself at her bottom, displayed to perfection in her jeans, to having just gotten back from deployment.

  It’d been a few weeks. What was he going to do when he’d been home for several months, been on dates with different women, and Serena still turned him on?

  Because deep in his gut he had a hunch that his attraction to Serena wasn’t something that was going to fade easily.

  She turned around and he took in her full beauty. Damn it if she didn’t look like she belonged in this house, too.

  His house.

  “Did you want to walk through the rest of the house?”

  Her posture was casual as she leaned against the kitchen counter, her blue denim in sharp contrast to the white porcelain sink’s apron. He didn’t miss how her smoky-gray blouse accentuated her breasts and the curve of her hips.

  His body reacted like he was fifteen—immediately and without thought. The man he’d become in the Navy knew he’d just lost the day’s battle.

  “Sure, that’d be nice.”

  Did he want to see the house? Of course—and he wanted to be the one to update the rest of it. At the rate they were going she’d never let him back in here. He’d never get her to sell the house to him.

  Of course money was a factor and he was willing to offer her a hefty sum for his childhood home. Only a fool would turn him down.

  Serena was no fool, but she wasn’t like any other adversary in his life to date. Argument was her profession.

  He didn’t miss the unsaid portion of her query. Did he want to see the rest of the house in order to say goodbye to it?

  * * *

  THEY WALKED UP the narrow staircase in silence. Serena was eye level with Jonas’s butt—and a nice butt it was. He dressed simply in jeans and a thermal under a ski jacket. He looked like he skied; his long legs and light step fit his athletic build. She’d noticed his quiet strength at the base hospital, too. But she’d been too upset by his verbal slams against military spouses to pay much attention to his body.

  Now she sought anything to keep her attention off her own body’s awareness of him. It wasn’t a surprise; she’d known that her grief for Phil would eventually lessen and she’d find herself attracted to another man. It was just a shock that this was the first guy who’d turned her on. The man who wanted to take back the one thing she had as a permanent reminder of her father’s family.

  Once they reached the landing Jonas went straight to the room at the end of the hallway, Pepé’s room.

  “This place seemed so huge to me when we moved in here.” Jonas’s tone reflected the awe of the little boy he would’ve been.

  “You were what, two or three?”

  “Four. I remember it as though it were yesterday. My brother John and I got this room, and my two older brothers were in the bigger room. I didn’t complain—their room scared me with all the dormers and eaves. To me it looked like a haunted castle.”

  Serena laughed. “Pepé said the same thing about that room.”

  “No, I didn’t, Mom. I didn’t say it was a castle.” He’d come upstairs with them.

  Serena smiled at him. “You said it looked like the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland.”

  “Well, it did.”

  “Same difference, kiddo.” She ruffled his hair and he squirmed away, not wanting to look like a little boy in front of Jonas, or so she surmised.

  She turned back to Jonas. “I made the scary room into my office. I haven’t had time yet, but I plan to hire a contractor to put in some shelves, to make it into more of a library. I don’t want to change the lines of the house at all. Simply add to it for comfort as needed.”

  “This house could bankrupt a person.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  “It’s not just any old house. It goes back—”

  “It was built in 1908 by Dottie’s grandfather. He and her grandmother, along with their young children, had previously lived in a smaller place on the southern part of the island. He brought his dairy cattle up here. Later, Dottie’s father let the dairy business go and made a living as a potato farmer. Your uncle was born here, a surprise midlife baby for Dottie’s parents. He was stationed in Texas for a short time when he had a tour in the Army. That’s where he met my mother.”

  She didn’t mention that Jonas’s uncle, her father, had left Whidbey to go back to Texas after her birth, to see if the woman he’d met during his military time was still there. He’d said that he’d never stopped loving her. Serena felt her mother had still loved him, too, but he’d been too deep into his drinking by then to be the kind of husband Juanita Rodriguez would accept. Juanita had seen their reunion as closure. She’d refused to marry him unless he agreed to stop drinking. Unfortunately, it left her a single mother with Serena.

  “My uncle Todd was the nicest man when he was sober.”

  “I imagine he was. I wouldn’t know.”

  Jonas turned stormy eyes on her. “If he thought for one minute that he was worthy of your mother’s love, I know he would’ve gone back to Texas and claimed you. He wouldn’t have given up so easily.”

  “You can’t know that—none of us can.”

  “He died a horrible death.” Jonas said what she already knew from Dottie. Her father had died of cirrhosis of the liver.

  “Alcoholism’s an ugly disease.”

  “I take it you’re not a medical professional? With that gentle bedside manner?” Jonas kept his tone light but the steel blue of his eyes warned her—don’t judge my uncle.

  He’d been her father.

  Serena shook her head. “I prefer to deal in facts. I’m a lawyer.”

  Jonas’s head moved back. Slightly, but she saw it.

  “Fair enough.” Now he tilted his head to the side. “So tell me, what was a lawyer doing working in a PT clinic as a receptionist? Why didn’t you get a job assisting in a law firm until your license came through?”

  “I told you, I wanted something to do when we first arrived here. Pepé was in school full-time, and while I didn’t want to hang out all day, I wasn’t ready to dive into law again. I wasn’t sure we’d be staying, either.” She didn’t rehash the fact that she’d failed as a receptionist—at least as far as Dottie was concerned. Jonas knew that part.

  She’d never forget it.

  “Did you practice law in Texas?”

  “Yes, I’d been working at a family-owned legal office out in town, off base. They provided family law services to many base personnel. Not too different from Paul’s practice.”

  “What kind of family law?”

  She looked at him. It was the second time he’d asked. What was his motive for finding out more about her?

  “Family court, estate planning, small civil suits. I never wanted to be tied down to a corporate position, not once we had Pepé.” As she said “we” she realized it was merely from habit. She wasn’t thinking about Phil, and more notably wasn’t feeling the pangs of regret she’d experienced throughout her grieving process.


  Jonas had her complete attention.

  This is a first.

  She looked around for Pepé.

  “He went back downstairs.” Jonas interpreted her body language correctly. She wanted to toss him down the stairs.

  “Thanks.” She looked at Jonas. His eyes were still on her but when she met them he shifted his gaze to something outside the low-slung window in Pepé’s room.

  “I used to sit on that window seat for hours and imagine what kinds of ships were out there. When it’s clear, you can see the gray whales migrating. You need binoculars, of course.”

  “I’ll have to tell Pepé. He’ll be thrilled.” And he would be. Pepé had taken to their surroundings like a native. He was more fascinated by nature with each hike, each trip. Puget Sound and the ocean yielded breathtaking displays of killer whales, gray whales and other sea creatures. The tidal basins along the coast became teaching laboratories for the elementary school at low tide. Serena had accompanied Pepé on a field trip with his class and had fallen in love with the assortment of starfish, mussels and crabs that lived in a two-foot basin.

  She had to remain focused on Pepé and ignore the way Jonas aroused her.

  “So you really want to stay here? This far from Texas, from your family?”

  “Pepé’s my family.” She’d parted on bad terms with her mother after finding out she’d lied about her biological father all these years. That was finally mending. But for now, she needed to find out more about who she was. Who Pepé was, too.

  “Let me guess—your mother never wanted anything to do with my uncle on account of his drinking?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

  “Just as I don’t see how you can be comfortable taking a home that’s been in a family for over a century when you only knew Dottie for, what, half a year?”

  “Need I remind you that, technically, this home and the Forsyth family is more mine that yours? You have zero Forsyth blood pumping through your veins.”

  “Actually, right now it feels like I’ve got piss pumping through my heart.”

  “What?”

  Jonas grinned. “It’s my deployment mouth, sorry. The expression’s an old one, though. You’ve never heard of ‘my heart’s pumping piss for you’? Meaning, I have no sympathy for you whatsoever.”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever had a need to learn Navy slang. And I’m not asking for your sympathy. I’m telling you that Dottie’s will was legal and just. I was as surprised as anyone that she’d leave the farmhouse to us, but the longer I’m in it, the more sense it makes. Pepé is the fifth generation Forsyth under this roof.”

  “Dottie was very generous. Maybe she thought you and Pepé needed a house, a home? Did you lead her to believe you were in financial difficulties?”

  “You know that line you shouldn’t cross?” At his blank expression Serena jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “It’s way back there, buddy. I’m happy to show you the house, and I’ve given your brothers any of Dottie’s possessions they’ve asked for. You can go through anything that’s still here and take what you want, too. But this house is mine now, and someday it’ll be Pepé’s. Besides, none of your brothers wanted the place—they didn’t want the responsibility of dealing with the renovations.”

  Renovations that were going to end up costing twice the worth of the house if she followed the specifications needed to keep the home on the state and national historic registry. But she wasn’t about to discuss that with Jonas Scott.

  “Why do you want this house so badly, Jonas?”

  “I wanted it. And yes, I still want it.” With his hands at his sides he looked relaxed. Except for his words, the taut tendons at the base of his neck and his narrowed eyes. “Like I said, I can help you with the repairs, and make sure you don’t inadvertently damage anything that will make the house lose its historical status.”

  What, was Jonas a mind reader, too?

  Anger flared, making her stomach hot and her throat dry. She took a step toward him.

  “You don’t save every patient who comes your way, do you?”

  He blinked, then frowned, highlighting his suspicion of her. “No. You don’t win every legal case, do you?”

  “No. Think of this house as one of your patients that didn’t make it—the patient who came in too far gone, where nothing you did could make a difference. It’s not your fault. It actually has nothing to do with you. It. Just. Is.”

  It was hard to tell in the upstairs light, dimmer than downstairs with its big picture windows, how red the skin over Jonas’s cheekbones had become.

  Their eyes locked and behind his anger Serena thought she recognized the same thing that she hadn’t been able to shake the entire time he’d been here.

  Awareness.

  She should be nicer to him. God only knew what he’d seen downrange, how many warriors he’d treated. Some might not have made it. And he’d offered to help her with the renovations—no matter his reason for wanting to help with the house, he could be exactly the contractor she needed.

  “Wait, that sounded a little harsh. It’s the lawyer in me.”

  “Save it.” He took one last look around the dormer room before he strode to the door, not sparing her a glance.

  “Thanks for the tour. I’ll see myself out.”

  Serena stayed in the room for a long time. Funny thing was, as angry as she’d made him, some crazy part of her thought that for a moment Jonas was going to kiss her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AS HE DROVE HOME, anger tightened across Jonas’s chest like an unwanted bear hug from a creepy neighbor. His brothers had told him Serena was nice. They said she’d been apologetic about getting the house. Not enough to refuse it, however.

  He turned the bend at the end of the farmhouse’s driveway and eased onto the country highway toward town.

  “Sure she was sweet and sorry, six months ago.” When maybe he would’ve had a chance to get the place back, before she moved in.

  Before she and her son got so enamored with the farmhouse.

  A group of cows watched him drive by and for a brief second he wished he were able to live so fully in the moment with no worry for his future. That he could let himself lust after Serena, with no concern for tomorrow or what he wanted for his future.

  He’d blown whatever chance he’d had to make his case about how he was the guy to do her renovations by losing his temper. What was he, twelve? He’d been irritated at himself for reacting to her sensuality and her beauty.

  The kicker of it all was that she seemed to appreciate the house. She’d started in on some of the renovations and had done a good job with them. It was clear to him that she was in over her head regarding the bigger modifications that were needed. He was thrilled that she wanted to keep the original lines and character of the house intact; he’d feared she might already have removed any chance of the house staying on the national historic register.

  His plan A was shot. Now he’d have to go back and be even nicer to her. He wished he’d gotten out of the Navy ten years ago so that he’d already have the house.

  Liar.

  The Navy had been his life, still was his life. It was part of him.

  Dottie had left him more than enough to satisfy anyone else selling the farmhouse. Except Serena.

  Was this Dottie’s way of telling him she’d always hoped he’d come home sooner? Give up his Navy life?

  He wouldn’t give up his naval experience for anything. It was what had made him the man he was today. But damn it, it had also cost him the home of his dreams—the one place he felt like himself. If he’d stayed here and not transferred with the Navy, he might’ve been living in the house before Dottie died. She’d talked about moving to town, to something easier for her to get around in.

  Eight
minutes after storming out of the farmhouse he pulled into his driveway and tried not to remember that he’d expected to be the one living in the family homestead by now. He laughed. He’d even planned to get a live Christmas tree and invite his family over—something he never did in the town house due to his deployment schedule and the fact that it was too crowded once all his brothers, their wives or significant others and their children piled in.

  What had Dottie been thinking?

  He’d known Uncle Todd drank—they all did. But he’d had long periods of sobriety, too. Not many, but enough that Jonas remembered one Christmas when Uncle Todd had come to the house with a sack full of gifts for Jonas and his brothers. Dottie had acted like he was crazy, spoiling her boys. She didn’t fool any of them; Jonas knew she’d been thrilled to see her brother sober and as happy as she was during the holidays.

  Only after he was older did Jonas come to understand that Dottie had often taken care of Uncle Todd. When he’d been at his worst, she’d always helped him back on his feet, finding him a job or, toward the end, good medical care.

  Dottie had taken Uncle Todd’s death hard. He’d lingered, survived far longer than his liver should have lasted. Jonas had been on deployment and, just like when Dottie died, unable to get back in time for Uncle Todd’s service. But he’d arrived home within a month of Todd’s passing and Dottie’s grief had shaken him. He thought he’d already seen her at her worst, when his father died unexpectedly of a heart attack years earlier. Jonas had been seventeen and looking forward to going to college on scholarship. Dottie had made him go, even though he’d thought he should stay back a year and help out around the house.

  She’d grieved deeply, but after a while she’d picked herself up and taken on more hours at her real estate office. She’d worked part-time while raising him and his brothers, and full-time after he’d left for college.