The Kidnapped Christmas Bride (Taming of the Sheenans Book 3)

by Jane Porter

  She didn’t want him to die young. She wanted him to play it safer. She wanted him to look at her more. She loved seeing how his hard, handsome features transformed when he saw her…lips curving, blue eyes creasing.

  He might not enjoy school, but he was smart, and tough, and he made her feel safe.

  He made her feel pretty, too.

  And he might never ask her out, but she was his. They both knew it.

  “What?” he asked, shooting her a quick glance, black eyebrows lifting.

  “Nothing,” she answered, amazed that seventeen years later she still felt so connected to him.

  “You’re smiling.”

  “You’re humming,” she said. “Christmas carols.”

  “I like Christmas carols.”

  “You’re humming the sacred ones.”

  “I can’t like songs with a little substance?”

  His innocent expression, and his blue eyes, suddenly so guileless, made her laugh out loud. “I know you. I know who you are.”

  “And who am I, darlin’?”

  She looked up into his eyes, and he let her look, inviting her in, and she could have stood there all day, feeling close to him, feeling connected.

  Heart, mind, soul.

  And then someone tried to get past and accidentally bumped into McKenna and McKenna tripped a bit over TJ and the spell was broken.

  The old gentleman who bumped into her apologized and McKenna said no, it was her fault, and blushing, she felt like a fool.

  She wasn’t being smart.

  She wasn’t being careful.

  Trey Sheenan might be gorgeous and charismatic but he wasn’t good for her. He wasn’t settled or stable. She couldn’t let him back in, couldn’t drop her defenses.

  They could be friends. And friendly. But that was all.

  No romance, no love, no sex, no happy ever after.

  No happy ever after. It didn’t exist. Not with him.

  *

  After clothes shopping they stopped for lunch at one of the little cafes on Main Street. Trey asked TJ what he wanted for Christmas, and once TJ started in, he didn’t stop. He hadn’t seen Santa yet, and he hadn’t sent him a letter but usually if he left him a note at Christmas Santa brought him what he wanted, although last year he wanted holsters and pistols and Santa didn’t bring those. Santa never brought guns. Or any fighting things. TJ was disappointed that Santa wouldn’t bring him fighting things when everyone else got them. Didn’t Santa know he was a boy, not a girl?

  McKenna could feel Trey’s eyes on her now and then while TJ talked.

  She told herself she didn’t want to know what he was thinking. She told herself she was happy to keep distance between them. Distance was good. Distance was smart.

  After lunch they stopped at the local grocery store and Trey thrust a wad of bills in her hand and told her to go get whatever she wanted while he and TJ went to the hardware store next door and picked up a few things for the cabin.

  McKenna didn’t want to be in the grocery store while Trey and TJ shopped at the hardware store. She liked being with them. She liked their energy and the way they talked and teased. It was boisterous and brash and fun. She’d forgotten how much fun Trey had always been. Trey had so much energy and good humor. He liked to laugh. He’d always loved to make her laugh, and now his focus was on TJ and TJ was eating it up.

  It would be silly to be jealous of TJ. He was Trey’s son. He deserved Trey’s undivided attention. But she knew what it felt like to be the focus of Trey’s attention. She knew how special she used to feel…

  Cart full, she waited in line to check out and then pushed the cart outside, heading for Trey’s truck.

  Trey and TJ were already in the truck waiting for her, and Trey stepped out and immediately began loading up the back with the groceries.

  “What did you buy?” she asked him, glancing at the dozen paper bags with the hardware logo on the front.

  “Tools, nails, screws, light bulbs, wood glue, extension cords. How about you?”

  “Steaks, potatoes, vegetables, peanut butter, flour, sugar, salt.”

  “Chocolate chips?” he asked hopefully. “Gingerbread mix?”

  “You got a little sweet tooth, Sheenan?”

  “Not usually, Mac. But for some reason when you’re around, I do.”

  He’d said it quietly, casually, but the words wrapped around her heart and stole her breath.

  It wasn’t fair how much she’d missed this—him—these past few years. She’d missed the banter and the teasing and his sexy laugh and the way he used to kiss her so slow, kiss her until she was dizzy and mindless and so perfectly content, wanting nothing more than to share a life with him.

  “I think that’s it,” she said breathlessly, placing the last bag in the back and straightening. “I’ll just take the cart back—”

  “I’ve got it. You get in with TJ.”

  “I can do it—”

  “I’ve got it, Mac. Please get in. Get warm. Be safe.”

  *

  Be safe.

  Be safe.

  The words played in her head during the ten minute drive from town to Cray Road and up the winding private road to the cabin.

  Be safe, she heard as she unpacked the groceries.

  Be safe, she heard as TJ and Trey disappeared up into the attic, with TJ giggling and whispering and Trey hushing him saying, Sssh. You don’t want to ruin the surprise.

  She couldn’t figure out why those words were bothering her so much. Why should she mind him saying be safe? Why should that be a bad thing?

  And then it hit her—he was the one who needed to be safe.

  He was the one who took the chances.

  He was the one who’d left her and TJ alone for four years because he was the one who wasn’t safe.

  If she wanted to be safe, then she needed Lawrence, or someone like Lawrence, in her life. She needed someone who sold insurance and didn’t take risks. Someone who insisted on slow and safe. Someone who preferred predictable. Someone who avoided extremes and change and adrenalin and danger.

  But when all was said and done, she hadn’t really wanted Lawrence, or someone like Lawrence.

  How was she to ever fall in love with anyone else when Trey still possessed her heart?

  *

  While McKenna baked an easy pumpkin bread and made chewy molasses cookies, Trey and TJ worked outside putting something together. She heard hammering and sawing and the scrape of metal. She wondered if it was an old sled they’d found, but she didn’t know what they’d do with a sled since there was no snow on the ground, and she would have gone outside to see what they were working on but she’d been given strict instructions to stay inside and be surprised.

  And so she was baking, waiting to be surprised, and smiling whenever she heard TJ’s high bright peal of laughter. He was so happy today. He was in his element helping Trey drag boxes from the attic, carrying paper bags of stuff from the truck, tramping in and out getting cups of hot cocoa for ‘the men’, making noise, creating chaos. Having fun.

  Finally, the front door banged open again and TJ shouted for her to close her eyes and not peek.

  “I’m making cookies,” she shouted back. “I have to peek.”

  “Just keep your eyes closed two minutes,” Trey answered.

  And so she squeezed her eyes shut and propped her chin in her hands and waited. She knew what it was by the smell, even without the sound of branches brushing and scraping the front door.

  A tree. They were bringing in a Christmas tree.

  “Are you looking?” TJ asked.

  “No.” But her lips curved and she was smiling, happy for TJ. This was a special Christmas. This was exactly the kind of Christmas he needed.

  Muffled voices and whispers and an ouch came from the main room.

  “Okay,” TJ said after a moment of some huffing and puffing. “Open your eyes!”

  She opened her eyes and a tall douglas fir filled one corner of the living ro
om. This was not a fat, full perfectly shaped tree from a Christmas tree farm, but an eight foot tree that had been cut from the Cray land, that had character along with gaps between some of the branches.

  “What do you think, Mom?” TJ asked, beaming. “Pretty nice, huh?”

  She nodded and smiled back. “One of the nicest trees I’ve ever seen.”

  The boxes TJ and Trey had brought down from the attic contained old strings of lights and dozens of vintage glass ornaments.

  While the pumpkin bread cooled and the molasses cookies baked, McKenna helped Trey and TJ put lights on the tree—not the old ones from the attic, but the box of new lights Trey had bought today from the hardware store—and then used the new ornament hooks to hang the beautiful vintage ornaments on the tree, the tarnished glass balls a mix of silver, white, and gold, as well as some that were a soft rose and aqua blue. They glittered, sparkled and shone on the green branches of the fresh douglas fir.

  After they were done, Trey turned off the living room lamps to admire their handiwork. Outside it was dusk and the lavender shadows pressed against the windows. Inside the fire burned and glowed and the tree gleamed with balls of color and the strings of white miniature lights.

  “All we need are some stockings and Santa can come,” Trey said.

  “Santa will find us here?” TJ asked.

  “Of course.” Trey paused. “If you were a good boy. Were you a good boy this year?”

  TJ was silent a long moment. “Most the time,” he said finally, his voice uncertain. “Does that count?”

  Trey laughed. “Absolutely.” He glanced at McKenna, still grinning. “Don’t you think, Mac?”

  “Yes. When it comes to you two. It’s got to. Otherwise, we’d never have Christmas or visits from Santa Claus.”

  *

  Late that night, after dinner and dishes, they sat in the living room admiring the tree, enjoying the fire. Trey told TJ stories about when he was a boy and how he and his brothers would go look for the perfect tree and how they’d always end up fighting and one or more would return home with a bloody nose, or worse.

  TJ loved the stories, and he asked questions about who was stronger—Uncle Brock or Uncle Cormac, and who ran faster, Uncle Troy or Uncle Dillon, and McKenna sat curled up in one of the threadbare armchairs listening to Trey answer all of TJ’s questions. He was so patient with his son, so incredibly sweet, and it moved her more than words could say.

  Lawrence had tolerated TJ but he’d never loved him. He’d never enjoyed him. He’d never cared about the things that interested TJ…not the way Trey did.

  And she got the feeling watching Trey with TJ that if he’d met her, and she’d been a single mom to TJ, Trey would have cared about her son. He would have tried to not merely parent him and keep him safe, but would have laughed and played. Trey would always engage and entertain. Trey would make a child’s life…fun.

  And fun mattered.

  Happiness mattered.

  Safety and stability was important, but what was a stable, safe life without humor and excitement and pleasure?

  One of the reasons she’d loved Trey was that he’d always made her laugh. He’d made her giggle and smile and feel good.

  Those things mattered.

  Watching Trey and TJ together now she felt as if she could see Trey, truly see him, all the way through to his soul.

  And no, his soul wasn’t shiny and silver bright, but tarnished like the vintage balls on the tree, and perhaps even bruised and broken, marked with jagged cuts and welts and scars.

  Yet for all those scars and dull marks, there was something so very beautiful in him. He was alive, and strong, and deep.

  But then, wasn’t that the appeal from the beginning. That he was flawed and real? That he was open and honest? Human.

  He’d never tried to cover up his weaknesses. He’d never sugar-coated anything for anyone, and he certainly had never pretended to be a perfect man, one of those romance novel heroes….all good and pure, the idealized boyfriend every girl wanted.

  No. He wasn’t that great, stand up guy.

  But it hadn’t mattered. She’d loved him anyway, as even broken and flawed, he’d felt like hers.

  She’d been the one to seduce him. She’d been the one to push his buttons, wanting him to treat her like a woman, not a girl. Wanting him to be hot and demanding, sensual and physical.

  He’d wanted to marry her ever since he graduated from high school. He’d wanted to do the right thing by her, but she refused to marry him until he stopped fighting and drinking and driving and staying out late causing trouble with ‘the boys’. She didn’t like that he was one person with her, and then this street-tough alpha with everyone else. Why couldn’t he be as kind and charming with everyone as he was with her? Why couldn’t he try harder to fit in? Settle down? Be good?

  They’d fought about his behavior for years…

  Don’t cause trouble. Don’t stay out too late. Don’t drink too much because you’ll just end up doing something stupid…

  But he liked who he was and he wasn’t interested in changing. He enjoyed all the things she was afraid of…the fist fights, the late nights, the rowdy groups of guys he hung out with. He enjoyed being tough, strong, slightly dangerous.

  “This is who I am,” he’d told her more than once. “This is what I am.”

  “Someday something will happen,” she’d answer. “Someday something beyond your control.”

  And then it had happened. The fight at the Wolf Den, with its disastrous results. Bradley Warner had died after falling and striking his head on the edge of the bar, and Trey was arrested and charged with manslaughter.

  It didn’t matter that Trey had intervened to protect Bradley’s pregnant girlfriend from Bradley’s fists. It didn’t matter that witnesses said that Trey had only thrown a few punches and had never lost control. It didn’t matter that Trey was supposed to be the good guy and Brad was the bad guy. Because Brad died and Trey was responsible and Trey had to pay.

  There were consequences for fighting.

  Consequences for not following rules.

  Consequences for being tough and physical and fearless.

  For the past two years McKenna had told herself that she was rejecting Trey because she didn’t want TJ to grow up like him, but suddenly she knew she’d wronged them, both of them.

  There was so much good in Trey, and so much good in TJ.

  She couldn’t reject one without rejecting the other and suddenly she wasn’t so sure that being good, being safe, was the right answer.

  She didn’t want to be stupid and didn’t want danger, but she wanted more than safe, wanted more than predictable.

  She wanted teasing and smiles, love and laughter.

  She wanted her heart back.

  She wanted her life back.

  She wanted Trey and TJ together.

  With her.

  Together a family with her.

  But she was scared. She was scared that if she let down her guard, if she allowed Trey back in, something bad could happen—again—and she could lose him, and her heart, and her happiness all over. Again.

  Chapter Twelve

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  McKenna woke up to the incessant trilling and drumming of a bird outside her cabin window. It had been going on and on and she’d tried to ignore it and fall back asleep but it wasn’t happening, not while the bird kept thrumming and kuk-kuk-kuking outside the window.

  Climbing from bed she went to the small window and pushed back the shutter. She shivered in her pajamas, which was really just a man’s t-shirt, X-Large, and craned her head to try to find the offending bird. The sun was just starting to rise and she couldn’t see a bird, but she could still hear it, kuk-kuk-kuking, over and over.

  McKenna bumped into Trey in the hallway. He was fully dressed and she tugged the hem of the t-shirt down, trying to cover herself.

  “You’re up early,” he said.

  “What time is it?” she asked, thinking t
hat the t-shirt had seemed perfectly roomy and modest last night but seemed to cover far less of her now.

  “Not quite six.”

  “I didn’t want to be awake this early,” she answered, smothering a yawn. “But there is the most annoying bird outside—”

  “Our resident woodpecker. I heard it, too.”

  “It’s been making noise half the night.”

  “The pileated woodpeckers do. Our woods are full of them. They love the old growth trees.”

  “Great.”

  He must have noticed that she kept tugging on the hem of her t-shirt. “Aren’t you wearing panties?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “You’re acting excessively virginal, Mac,” he said, sounding amused.

  “Be quiet. Go shave. Or better yet, be useful and make some coffee.”

  “I have, and it’s waiting for you, Princess. Or was I supposed to bring it to you in bed?”

  “No.” And yet the moment he said the word bed, her imagination sparked, creating all sorts of wanton images in her head. Images she didn’t want or need. Because when it came to making love with Trey, reality was so much better than fantasy. He was that good. And he felt that good, and no, she’d never slept with any other man than Trey, so she didn’t know if it’d be that good with someone else, but honestly, she hadn’t wanted to find out.

  Trey had been her only one.

  Although once she married Lawrence, she would have obviously had to make love to him. She suppressed a faint shudder. She hadn’t been looking forward to that.

  Although she was pretty sure he had.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her breasts. “Did any of your brothers ever leave a robe behind?”

  “Nope, but I did find an old wool cardigan. It’s huge, XXL, and rather moth eaten but it could be a robe on you.”

  “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

  She was in the kitchen filling her cup when he returned with a grey, beige and cream knit sweater with an Indian motif.