by Meg Maxwell
She’d driven back to Blue Gulch to buy her wedding dress, which she’d seen hanging in the bridal salon window during the week she’d spent there with Colt. It was a combination of her old and new life. There was something Victorian about the gown, yet princess-like at the same time. It was high-necked with slightly puffed long sleeves, yet lacy and delicate. She felt like a forties movie star in it. Her hair was pulled back, and she wore light makeup and beautiful peau-de-soie pumps. Her aunt Kate and her sister-in-law-to-be, Cathy, had helped her get ready. She and Cathy had gotten close since Christmas, shopping, going to movies, and gossiping—gently—about Colt, whom they both loved dearly. Anna loved getting to spend so much time with Noah and Nathaniel, who would be ring bearers at the wedding. The thought of them in their little tuxedos made her burst into a smile.
She glanced out the window to see Colt deep in conversation with her uncle. Her groom wore a very sharp tuxedo and looked so handsome her knees wobbled. She smiled as she saw Jake and Emma Morrow arrive with baby Violet and the Fords, Sarah and Edmund. Cathy walked up to Jake and Sarah and hugged them both. Colt had invited the Morrows and Fords to their condo a few months ago for dinner and a show, putting them up in a swanky hotel. The six of them had had a great time, and Anna could see how moved Colt was at having his sister and his twin and birth mother all together.
Separately, she and Colt had found their families growing, and now their families would be uniting, growing even bigger.
“Ready?” her aenti asked, poking her head in the room, a beaming Sadie, her flower girl, at her side. Sadie had asked if Agent Sparkles could come to the wedding, his cage under her chair, and Anna said she couldn’t imagine the dear guinea pig not being a guest at her wedding.
Oh, yes. “Ready.”
Outside, Anna looked at the rows of chairs, at these people she loved and people she would come to know. There was Colt’s boss, Harlan Holtzman, and his wife, and a few of his fellow FBI agents. Colt had indeed gotten Eliot Duvall off the street and behind bars, and it had taken him less than a week. For two days after, Colt and Anna hadn’t left his condo, snuggling in bed, having Thai takeout, making love, watching movies. She was so happy it seemed like a dream.
And now she was about to marry the man she loved. Tomorrow morning, she would wake up married to Colt, a wedding band on her finger, and they’d fly off to Rome, Italy, for their honeymoon. All the pasta she wanted for two weeks. She couldn’t imagine having any more wishes to make at the Trevi Fountain; all her wishes had come true. Though maybe she’d make a wish for a little Colt or a little Anna to come into their lives when they were ready—twins, she thought with a grin. In September, she would start classes at Houston College, majoring in nursing, so they’d put off starting a family for a few years.
But the best part of it all: she and Colt were in this together. Every step of the way.
Her uncle walked her down the aisle, English-style, to her handsome groom, her past and present meeting for the future of her dreams.
* * * * *
Meg Maxwell will return to Harlequin Special Edition in April 2018 writing under her real name, Melissa Senate!
In the meantime, be sure to catch other books in the HURLEY’S HOMESTYLE KITCHEN miniseries:
CHARM SCHOOL FOR COWBOYS
THE COOK’S SECRET INGREDIENT
THE COWBOY’S BIG FAMILY TREE
THE DETECTIVE’S 8 LB, 10 OZ SURPRISE
A COWBOY IN THE KITCHEN
Available now from Harlequin Special Edition!
Keep reading for an excerpt from HIS BY CHRISTMAS by Theresa Southwick.
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His by Christmas
by Theresa Southwick
Chapter One
“I’ve had sex recently.” Calhoun Hart hoped there was enough self-righteous indignation in his retort to make the lie believable.
“You are so lying.”
“You don’t know that.”
Sam Hart, his older brother, stared at him for several moments, gave him a pitying look, then laughed. “I’d put money on the fact that I’m right.”
“I don’t need money.” Cal was the president of Hart Energy and had plenty. “What I want is that classic car Granddad left you.”
“The Duchess? That’s never going to happen. And it wasn’t personal. He said it needs tender loving care and that takes time. Which you don’t have because you’re always working.” Sam shrugged. “And I’m the oldest. Get over it.”
Cal knew he meant get over second-son syndrome. He would never be first. In the line of succession he was the spare to his older brother’s heir. For as long as he could remember, if Sam was going somewhere, doing something, Cal wanted to do it, too.
Although not marriage, which is why family and friends were gathered in a banquet room at Blackwater Lake’s newest hotel—Holden House. Sam had just gotten married and promised to love and honor Faith Connelly, the town florist. The invitation had said Reception Immediately Following and apparently the groom believed it was open season on Cal’s sex life since his own was in pretty good shape. And he’d never seen his older brother look happier. For once the thought didn’t crank up his acute competitive streak. The truth was, Cal envied him.
“I’m over the whole car thing,” he declared. It was another lie, but he was hoping the groom would be distracted and quit ribbing him about his missing-in-action personal life.
“You’ll never be over it, little brother.”
“You’re only nine months older,” Cal reminded him.
Sam straightened his black bow tie, the one he wore with his traditional black tuxedo. “And an inch taller.”
Cal couldn’t do anything about that, either. He blamed the combination of chromosomes, DNA or whatever it was that had resulted in his own light brown hair and blue eyes and being six-feet-one instead of six-feet-two or more. But the reminder was just as annoying now as it had been for his whole life.
“Sam, you’re an ass,” he said. “Tell me again how you talked Faith into marrying you.”
His brother glanced around the crowded room until he found the beautiful bride dressed in a lacy, long-sleeved, floor-length white gown. She met his gaze as if somehow knowing he’d been searching for her and blew him a kiss. “I had a little help from a mini
ature matchmaker named Phoebe.”
The bride’s little girl. Cal couldn’t deny she was a cute, precocious child. “What did she see in you?”
“Good question. Maybe she knew I needed her and her mom more than they needed me.” Sam was dead serious. “I’m adopting her.”
“Even more reason to congratulate you,” Cal said just as sincerely. “You really do have it all.”
“And you don’t,” his brother needled him. “In fact, you’re not getting any, either.”
So much for having a moment. “How can you possibly know that? Are you stalking me?”
“Don’t have to. I always know where you are. Working.”
“So you’re studying surveillance footage?”
“Don’t have to do that, either, now that you’ve set up an office for Hart Energy here in Blackwater Lake.” Sam slid his hands into the pockets of his tux trousers. “And, in spite of that, there was still some question at the last minute about you being here for the wedding.”
Cal felt a little guilty about that, but negotiations regarding a parcel of land for a wind farm were going south and he needed to be involved. “I made it, didn’t I? I should get points for that. I haven’t missed a Hart wedding yet. Except the one ten years ago Linc didn’t tell anyone about.”
“True. And you’re the last Hart bachelor. Here alone, I notice. Evidence that you work too much to have a life and a plus-one.”
There was more truth in that statement than Cal would admit. “Who retired and promoted you to relationship monitor?”
Just then Katherine Hart, their mother, joined the conversation. “Calhoun, this is your brother’s day. Be nice.”
And so, Cal thought, just like in football, it was the retaliatory hit the official penalized, not the inciting one. “He started it.”
“Sam—” The older woman stood between them, linking arms with them. She was ageless and still beautiful, even after raising four children. “What did you do?”
“I simply pointed out that Cal is a workaholic.”
“Not exactly how you phrased it.” Cal didn’t miss the gleam in his brother’s eyes, the one that dared him to tell her the disagreement was all about him not having sex in a long time. That would happen when pigs went airborne.
“You do work too hard,” Katherine said. “I was seriously thinking about staging a family intervention.”
“Isn’t that a bit dramatic, Mother?”
“No.” Her expression said she wasn’t kidding. Not only that, she’d left no room for rebuttal.
That didn’t stop him from trying to make an argument. “It takes time and effort to run a successful company.”
“No one understands that better than me. But some things are more important.”
Not when he was competing with Sam for the best bottom line of all the companies that encompassed Hart Industries. “Look, Mom—”
“No.” There was that rebuttal stopper again. “Working too hard is a flaw of the Hart men. It’s a trait that nearly destroyed my marriage to your father, as you both well know.”
Cal was aware that his parents legally separated when he and Sam were hardly more than babies. Because they were so close in age, she’d always called them twins the hard way. His dad worked all the time and she’d felt isolated and alone. Katherine’s one-night stand during the separation had resulted in her getting pregnant and his brother Lincoln was born. Against the odds, Katherine and Hastings Hart had reconciled and their union became even stronger.
“I’m not married,” Cal reminded her.
“You were once, but you never will be again if you don’t make changes in your life.”
Cal had left himself wide-open for that one. “Look, I just wasn’t very good at marriage.”
“That’s no reason to give up. It’s like vegetables. One taste doesn’t get you a pass from them. Your body needs them and they’re good for you.”
Kind of like sex, Cal thought.
“You’ll wither and die if you don’t get any.” Sam’s remark was a clue that he was thinking along the same lines.
“Seriously,” Katherine said, “there are studies that prove married men live longer. I want you around for a very long time, not working yourself into an early grave.”
“Come on, Mom. You’re exaggerating.” When her eyes flashed with maternal intensity, he knew that was the wrong thing to say.
“When was the last time you took a vacation?” she demanded.
He thought for a moment and drew a blank. “I’d have to check my calendar. Can I get back to you on that?”
“I already checked with Shanna and she told me you haven’t taken time off since she’s been with the company, so that’s at least four years.”
“You went over my head to my assistant about this?”
“You have a problem with that?” There was a warning expression in his mother’s eyes.
“No. Just wondering.” He couldn’t believe she’d done research on him. “She’s probably right. Excellent at her job.”
“She’s so good you never give her time off, either. She’s tired.”
“I have an idea,” Sam said. “Give her a vacation and you take one, too.”
“I don’t need a break—”
“Recharging your batteries would be good for you,” his mother interrupted. “Your father and I recently took a trip to an all-inclusive island. There were so many activities available, or you could just veg out on the beach, sit in a lounge chair by the pool.”
“Doing nothing would drive me nuts.” Cal could feel his stubborn streak kicking in. That was never good.
“You can do as much or as little as you want,” she insisted.
“I’ll check it out.” Again, when pigs took flight. Hopefully that response would get her off his back.
But Katherine’s eyes narrowed as if she was onto him. “You think I don’t know you just threw me a bone and have no intention of doing any research on a vacation?”
“Mom, can we talk about this later? Sam just got married and I’m sure he has stuff to do at this shindig.”
“He’s right. Faith just threw her bouquet, so it’s almost time for me to do the garter thing.” Sam’s eyes took on a calculating look. “But I think I know how to resolve Cal’s vacation issue right now.”
“I bet you don’t,” Cal said.
“It’s like you’re channeling me.” His brother looked way too self-satisfied. “I think you should take a week off for every year of avoided vacation. So, I’ll bet you that you can’t go to that island and stay for a month.”
“Of course I can. If I wanted to.”
“Ah,” Sam said. “Wiggle room. I knew you couldn’t do it.”
The tone and the words hit a nerve and started Cal’s competitive juices flowing. “Why would I want to?”
“For the Duchess.” There was a dare in his brother’s voice.
“But you love that car,” Cal protested.
“I do. But you’re not going to stay on the island for a month, so there’s no chance I’ll lose the car.”
It was like they were kids again, and Cal felt that honor challenge clear to his core. A double dog dare if he’d ever heard one. Plus, he really did love that car. It was a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow and something that belonged to his grandfather, which made it priceless.
He stuck out his hand. “You’re on.”
“Excellent,” Sam said, shaking on the terms of the wager. “Mom, you’re a witness.”
“I am.” She pointed to the activity on the other side of the room. “Look, all the single men are gathering. Sam, I think you’re being paged. And, Cal, go catch the garter.”
“No way.”
“I’ve been looking forward to this.” Sam rubbed his hands together. “I’ll
throw it right to you.”
“Don’t do me any favors.”
A few minutes later Sam removed the garter from his bride’s leg and threw it over his shoulder into the crowd of single guys. Unfortunately, Cal caught the blasted thing. The satin-and-lace symbol of the next guy to walk down ball-and-chain lane sailed just close enough that he couldn’t resist the challenge of snagging it. Damn his competitive streak. And he was pretty sure Sam had done it on purpose, to prove relaxing was too big a challenge for Cal, that he was going to lose the bet.
His brother was wrong, Cal thought.
The problem was going to be finding ways to fill his time for a month on an island. Or die trying. Really, what could go wrong?
* * *
Calhoun Hart broke his leg on the first day of vacation, so now he was going to work on the island. Justine Walker believed she’d drawn the short straw in agreeing to fill in for his vacationing secretary. But that was before she stepped off the plane and saw sun, sand, sea. And palm trees swaying in the gentle trade winds. That’s when it hit her. Working in a tropical paradise wasn’t like being the one who had to stay behind to manually blow a nuclear device and prevent an asteroid from wiping out Earth.
Technically she hadn’t drawn the short straw anyway. No one else in the clerical pool at Hart Energy wanted to work with Cal Hart. In desperation, Human Resources made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. Putting up with the infamous workaholic who signed her paycheck meant she was that much closer to being her own boss.
Pulling a carry-on bag behind her, she limped up the flower-and shrub-lined path to Mr. Hart’s private villa at the resort. Her leg was as good as it would ever be, but long stretches of sitting still made it ache. In spite of the discomfort, she was grateful the doctors had saved it after the accident. She’d come a long way from wishing she’d died, too.
In front of the impressive double-door entry, she stopped and took several deep, cleansing breaths, counting each one to slow down her racing pulse and heart rate. It took more effort than usual, but she didn’t usually go to work in a villa with a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the ocean. The crystal clear varying shades of turquoise water defied words. It was one of those sights one simply had to see. The stunning beauty almost made her forget about the discomfort in her leg.
