The SEAL's Christmas Twins

by Laura Marie Altom

  “You read my mind. How’s the leg room in the backseat of your car?”

  She laughed. “For what you have in mind, we’re gonna need a model upgrade.”

  “Bummer. Guess if I’ve waited this long, though, a few more minutes won’t kill me.”

  “Speak for yourself. Come on.” Hattie ducked into the lobby of a boutique hotel, booked a room, then reacquainted herself with every inch of Mason’s delicious body. Gone were all of her feelings of awkwardness and mistrust, replaced by a confidence she viewed as the greatest gift he’d ever given.

  Sure, her ring was pretty, but most gorgeous of all was the way Mason made her feel inside and out. He’d changed everything about her for the better, and if it took the next sixty or so years, she’d spend every day of the rest of her life thanking him.

  Epilogue

  Hattie hadn’t believed she’d find an even larger group of friends outside of Conifer, but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Dancing barefoot on the beach in celebration of her and Mason’s June wedding were not only her new favorites like Calder and Pandora, Maggie, Heath and Patricia and Cooper, but even her old crowd who had flown in for the happy occasion. Of course, Fern and Jerry, along with Clementine, Joey and Dougie, as well as Clementine’s mom. The most surprising guests of all were Hattie’s parents.

  At first, they’d stayed on the fringe of the celebration, but the longer the night went on, the more they joined in.

  “Mind if I steal you and the groom for a sec?” Her dad took her hand, then shockingly reached for Mason’s. With tears in his eyes, Lyle said, “I owe you both an apology. L-losing Melissa was the toughest thing I’ve ever been through. Mason, I hope one day you can forgive me for allowing my grief to drown my common sense. Hitting you was deplorable—especially when I now see how much joy you bring my sweet, beautiful Hattie.” He paused a moment to collect himself. “Anyway, I don’t mean to go on all night, but I also want to thank you both. Hattie, even when we didn’t deserve it, you kept reminding your mom and I about how much we still had left to live for. Mason, no matter what, you’ve always been the true definition of a gentleman. I couldn’t dream of anyone I’d rather have watching over my daughter.”

  “The honor’s all mine, sir.”

  Both men embraced.

  And then Akna joined in on the hugs.

  But then, just in case the night grew too maudlin, Jerry and Fern were on hand, providing them all with their usual antics.

  “You can’t put that in there,” Fern said when her husband slipped his bowl of ice cream into the chocolate fountain.

  “I don’t see why not. How else am I s’posed to get chocolate syrup on my scoop of vanilla?”

  “You’re impossible,” Fern declared. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

  “Like you’re such a prize?” He appraised her full-skirted, purple-striped dress, yellow pumps and Shirley Temple curls. “What am I saying? Woman, you’re the hottest thing west of the Mississippi—or I guess tonight that’d be east. Come on over here and give your Big Daddy a kiss.”

  Hiding her laugh against her new husband’s chest, Hattie could scarcely contain her happiness. Even the girls seemed to be having a great time, flirting up a storm with Calder and Pandora’s son.

  “Back when we were in grade school,” she said, “could you ever imagine our lives would turn out like this?”

  “Honestly, at the time, I was more driven by schemes of how to nab the cookies from your lunch bag.” He caressed her belly. “But now that I not only have you, and all of your future lunch treats, I am pretty psyched to see what our future holds.”

  Heart pounding from having kept her tiny secret for three months, she asked, “What if I told you your hand is currently resting on our future?”

  After taking a moment to process her words, his smile lit the night. “For real? You’re pregnant?”

  She nodded. “Is that okay?”

  “Okay?” He lifted her only to swing her around and around. “It’s perfection.”

  Funny he should choose that word, because she’d spent so much time working toward making everything in her life perfect. However, the one thing she’d learned from all of her attempts was that it wasn’t possible. Only with Mason by her side, turned out perfection had been within reach all along. All it had taken was following her sister’s sage advice to “go where your heart guides you.”

  In Hattie’s case, that meant walking straight into her handsome SEAL’s loving arms.

  * * * * *

  Be sure to look for the next book

  in the OPERATION: FAMILY series

  by Laura Marie Altom!

  Available in 2014

  wherever Harlequin books are sold.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE TEXAS CHRISTMAS GIFT by Cathy Gillen Thacker.

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  Chapter One

  “Derek McCabe is still on the phone?” the office manager asked.

  In her private office, no less. Doing her best to curtail her irritation, Eve Loughlin smiled. “Yep.”

  Sasha handed her a beautiful red poinsettia from a grateful client. “Well, at least he’s easy on the eyes.”

  Worse, Eve thought, hazarding a glance through the glass door, the amazingly successful venture capitalist had to know it. With his dark brown hair, ruggedly chiseled face and mesmerizing blue eyes, he was handsome enough to stop traffic. His broad-shouldered, six-foot-three-inch frame, currently garbed in an elegant, dark gray suit, made him even more of a catch. If she’d been looking. She wasn’t.

  Luckily, at that moment his call ended.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, Eve squared her shoulders and walked back into her office.

  “Sorry about that,” Derek said. “I’m investing in a technology company. There were some last-minute details to work out.”

  “I understand,” Eve replied. Even though she didn’t. Why did Loughlin Realty’s well-heeled clients think their time was somehow more valuable than the agents they employed to buy and sell their houses?

  She set the plant on her credenza, next to several other gift baskets and a ribbon-wrapped bottle of champagne, then returned to her desk. “So back to where we were,” she continued crisply. Which hadn’t been far, given the fact that Derek had taken the call on his cell thirty seconds after he had walked in. “Have you had time to answer the questionnaire I emailed you?”

  He shook his head and lowered himself into a chair in front of her desk. “We don’t need to bother with that.”

  Of course they didn’t, Eve thought with mounting frustration. She settled into her ergonomically designed swivel chair.

  “I know exactly what I’m looking for,” he stated amiably.

  Eve picked up her notepad and pen. “Then suppose you tell me.”

  “I want a home in Highland Park, preferably on or near Crescent Avenue. I’d like to pay between seven and eight million for it. It must have at least three bedrooms and two baths. There’ll be no need for bank financing, as I plan to pay cash.” He paus
ed, allowing her to catch up. “I’d also like to close next week and take possession immediately.”

  Eve finished writing and looked into the most gorgeous eyes she had ever seen. “I gather this is just an investment?”

  “Much more, actually.” His sensual lips lifted into an easy grin. “I plan to live there with my daughter.” Affection laced his low voice. “So if you could just find something and let me know...” He glanced at his phone again, which was chiming quietly, then rose as if to leave.

  Eve stood and moved around her desk. Because of the eight-inch difference in their heights, which was modified only slightly by her three-inch heels, she had to tilt her head to look up at him. “When will you be available to look at properties?” she asked, knowing from experience that he was going to be one of those demanding clients who didn’t want to waste an instant.

  Derek grimaced. He shoved back the edges of his suit jacket, the impatient action briefly diverting her gaze to his flat abs and lean hips. “I only want to look at one.”

  Lifting her chin, Eve studied him for a long beat. She couldn’t help wondering if the sexy venture capitalist was this way with everyone he hired. Or just the nonessential personnel? “You expect me to choose your home?” she asked drily.

  He glanced at his watch as his phone chimed again, his deep blue eyes narrowing. “Yes.”

  Wanting to make this work—but only to a point—Eve held up a palm. “Then I’m going to need a lot more information.”

  Derek frowned. He might be only thirty-four, if the information she had found on Google prior to meeting him was correct, but he was all autocratic executive. “I’m too busy for that right now.”

  Which left her no choice. She walked him to the door and opened it wide. “Then,” she said, just as imperiously, not about to make herself miserable—especially at this time of year—by working with a man who was far too big for his britches, “you’ll have to find yourself another Realtor.”

  Derek stared in amazement. “You’re firing me as a client?”

  Eve nodded and ushered him out. Then she smiled one last time. “Consider it my Christmas present to myself.”

  * * *

  TWO HOURS LATER, as she entered the conference room for the Friday afternoon staff meeting, Eve was still trying to figure out how to tell her mother what she’d done.

  The two other sales agents, Vanessa and Astrid, were already there. Eve’s mom—the owner of the company—was seated at the head of the table. As always, Marjorie Loughlin was beautifully dressed, today in a red wool suit and heels, her short silvery-blond hair perfectly coiffed. Despite the artful application of makeup, Eve couldn’t help but notice her mother looked tired. But maybe that was to be expected. Like the rest of the staff of the all-female realty firm she had founded, Marjorie put in long hours.

  “I have great news,” she said. “We are still ahead of Sibley & Smith Realty in annual sales by several million dollars.” She paused and massaged her left shoulder. “And you all know what that means.”

  “More exclusive, top-dollar listings and sales,” Astrid declared, already pulling out her calculator.

  Vanessa winked. “Not to mention that new Mercedes convertible I’ve been coveting.”

  Marjorie dabbed a bead of sweat from her hairline. “Luckily, we all have clients wanting to close on homes before the end of the year.” Briefly, she went over the list of Astrid’s and Vanessa’s clients, as well as her own. Then she turned to Eve, addressing the properties and clients of primary concern. “There’s Flash Lefleur’s condo—which we really need to get sold before the listing expires—and Derek McCabe.”

  “Right.” Eve steeled herself for her mother’s disapproval as she prepared to talk about the latter. “About that...”

  Marjorie’s hand went to the left side of her neck. “Don’t tell me there’s a problem there.”

  Except for the fact I fired him? Not a one.

  Eve noted her mother was pressing her hand against the bottom of her jaw. “Mom, are you all right...?”

  Marjorie winced, as if in pain.

  Something was wrong! Eve rushed toward her in alarm. “Mom!”

  Her skin a peculiar ashen gray, Marjorie swayed slightly. “I feel a little dizzy,” she said, then slumped in her chair in a dead faint.

  * * *

  ONE HARROWING AMBULANCE ride,admission to the hospital and balloon angioplasty later, Marjorie was finally declared stable and moved to a room in the cardiac care unit. Once she was settled, the doctor came in to go over the results of all the tests, as well as the emergency surgical procedure. “You were lucky. It was only a mild heart attack,” the cardiologist announced.

  “Impossible,” Marjorie declared, still looking awfully pale and anxious, despite the medicines they had given her to help her relax. “I’m in perfect health. It was indigestion. A lunch gone wrong. That was all.”

  The doctor turned to Eve. “Is your mother always this difficult?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “No,” Marjorie stated at the same moment.

  Dr. Jackson smiled and shook his head in silent remonstration, obviously having dealt with similar situations before. He turned back to his patient. “We’re going to keep you in the hospital, as a precaution, for forty-eight hours, Mrs. Loughlin. After that, I’d like you to go to the cardiac rehab unit, in the annex across the street, for another month, for further evaluation and treatment.”

  “That’s impossible!” Marjorie folded her arms belligerently. “I have work to do.”

  Clearly unintimidated, the physician countered, “It’s absolutely necessary, Mrs. Loughlin. You need to rest and rebuild your strength, and above all else, rethink how you’ve been living your life.”

  Marjorie sent Eve a look, begging her to intervene.

  “I agree with the doctor,” Eve said as the physician slipped from the room, wisely leaving the persuasion to a family member.

  “But the annual sales award...”

  “I’ll see we still get it,” Eve promised gently.

  Still, Marjorie fretted. “I have a new client, that Houston oilman, Red Bloom, coming in soon to see the Santiago Florres‒designed home.”

  Eve smiled. “Not to worry, Mom. I’ll take care of that, too.”

  “You have Derek McCabe....”

  Eve had had plenty of time to regret her foolhardiness. “I’ll handle his sale, too,” she reassured her mother. At least I hope I will.

  “You’re sure?” Marjorie started to relax, as the meds finally kicked in.

  She nodded. Her mother had done so much for her over the years. It was now her turn to be the caretaker. “Just rest now.” She bent and kissed Marjorie’s temple. And then, hoping like hell it wasn’t too late to undo the damage, Eve went to make good on her vow.

  * * *

  “WHAT DO YOU mean, it didn’t work out?” Derek’s ex-wife said over the phone late the next afternoon. “Marjorie Loughlin is the best Realtor in Dallas!”

  “I didn’t get her. I was assigned her daughter.”

  Carleen paused. The sounds of their infant daughter and Carleen’s lively household could be heard in the background. “I haven’t met Eve Loughlin, but she’s supposed to be good, too.”

  She was beautiful, Derek mused, that was for sure. Temperamental, too. A knock sounded at his door. Aware that his assistant had already left for the day, he said, “Can you hang on a minute?” He walked across his private office and opened the door.

  On the other side was the show-stopping beauty who had sent him packing. In a long cashmere coat, vibrant blue business suit and suede heels, Eve Loughlin was the epitome of Texas elegance and style. Around five feet seven inches tall, she was slender and lithe, with great legs and even more spectacular curves. From her full breasts to her narrow waist and hips, the
re wasn’t an inch of her left wanting. And despite his irritation with her, his attraction didn’t end there. Her skin was fair and utterly flawless, her nose pert, her cheekbones high and sculpted. Her shoulder-length golden-brown hair was so lush and thick he wanted to sink his hands into it. Most mesmerizing of all, though, were her intelligent, wide-set amber eyes, which seemed to hide as much as they revealed.

  Derek swallowed around the sudden dryness of his throat, and tore his eyes from her plump, kissable lips. No good could come of this. “Listen, Carleen, I’ve got to go.”

  As always, his ex understood. “I’ll see you at five-thirty. Craig and I will have Tiffany ready to go.”

  “Thanks. See you then.” Derek ended the call.

  Meanwhile, Eve Loughlin waited with a patient, angelic smile.

  Not about to make it easy on her, after the way she had summarily dismissed him the afternoon before, Derek lifted a brow. Waited.

  Her smile only became more cordial and determined. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  If that was the case, Derek thought, she already would have left. “What brings you here?”

  “I wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday.”

  She looked as if she actually might be regretting her actions, if the shadows beneath her eyes—shadows that hadn’t been there the day before—were any indication. Derek’s attitude softened just a little, even as the rest of him remained wary as all get-out. “I’m listening.”

  She held her red crocodile briefcase in front of her like a shield. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d like to retain your business for Loughlin Realty.”

  Maybe it was the way his marriage had turned out, or the experiences he’d suffered through with women he had dated since, but he’d had enough fickle women to last him a lifetime. Regarding her skeptically, Derek lounged against his desk, his arms folded. “If that’s the case, then why did you fire me as a client in the first place?”