by Lisa Plumley
MERRY, MERRY MISCHIEF
by
Lisa Plumley
Smashwords Edition
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previously published by Kensington Publishing
in the anthology Santa Baby
Flirty Katie Moore is the ultimate good-time girl. Too bad she’s held up at the office, helping architect Jack Brennan with a very special project: emergency babysitting for the boss’s tiny daughter. Now, the party girl and the workaholic are joining forces to give the bundle of joy a Christmas she’ll never forget…
“A touching, fun-filled romance that will keep you entertained until the very last satisfied sigh!” —The Romance Reader’s Connection
“Plumley infuses her usual humor into ‘Merry, Merry Mischief,’ when two exes reunite.” —The Philadelphia Inquirer
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Copyright © 2017 by Lisa Plumley
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, then please respect the hard work of this author by purchasing your own copy. Thank you!
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USA TODAY best-selling author Lisa Plumley has delighted readers worldwide with more than three dozen popular novels. Her work has been translated into multiple languages and editions, and includes contemporary romances, western historical romances, paranormal romances, and a variety of stories in romance anthologies. Her fresh, funny style has been likened to such reader favorites as Rachel Gibson, Susan Elizabeth Phillips, LaVyrle Spencer, and Jennifer Crusie, but her unique characterization is all her own.
To sign up for new-book reminder e-mails, read first-chapter excerpts, catch sneak previews of upcoming books, and more, visit www.lisaplumley.com today.
Lisa also writes cozy mysteries as Colette London. Her Chocolate Whisperer series (featuring chocolate expert—and amateur sleuth!—Hayden Mundy Moore) kicked off with Criminal Confections and now includes Dangerously Dark, The Semisweet Hereafter, and Dead and Ganache, all from Kensington Books.
Visit www.colettelondon.com today to find fantastic chocolate recipes, sign up for new-book reminder e-mails, and catch sneak previews of upcoming books in the Chocolate Whisperer series.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Chapter One
Note from the Author
Email Reminders
What People Are Saying…
Series Books by Lisa Plumley
Complete Book List: Lisa Plumley
Cozy Mysteries by Lisa Plumley (writing as Colette London)
Complete Book List: Colette London
MERRY, MERRY MISCHIEF
by
Lisa Plumley
Chapter One
When Katie Moore returned to her office at Brennan Homes late on the Monday before Christmas weekend, all she wanted to do was grab the pair of red stilettos she kept in her bottom desk drawer for cocktail-hour emergencies and scoot out the door. She didn’t have time to waste.
The holiday party that was her ultimate destination was already in progress at her favorite downtown Phoenix hangout, and Katie didn’t want to be late for the karaoke Christmas caroling. Or the peppermint martinis with candy canes on the rims. Or the dancing beneath strings of flashing multicolored lights. Christmas was Katie’s favorite time of year, and this December she had every intention of making the most of it.
Starting with those stilettos. Snatching them from their protective nest of shredded, outdated Your New Home brochures, Katie smiled. Equipped with these, and minus the sensible suit jacket that had covered her close-fitting, spaghetti-strapped red sheath all day, she’d be sure to take the party by storm.
She clutched the shoes and her new red-sequined-Santa purse (a fondness for cute handbags was her only real weakness), and careened down the short passageway between the vacated cubicles, wriggling out of her suit jacket as she went.
Halfway to the reception area, she glimpsed movement from the corner of her eye. A co-worker who hadn’t noticed it was already past quitting time and moving toward party time, probably.
Thinking she’d pop in with an invitation to the karaoke caroling, Katie headed toward him. After only a few steps, though, she recognized him. She stopped. The off-key interpretation of “Frosty The Snowman” she’d been humming died in her throat.
It was him. Jack Brennan.
Her heart knew it, and so did her body. Instantly.
Why him? Why now? Why here?
Well, the why here part was easy enough—Jack was the heir apparent to Brennan Homes, destined to assume leadership of the company when his uncle stepped down. And on second thought, the why now part was a slam dunk, too, since Jack pretty much defined “workaholic” these days. And now that she considered it, Katie realized the why him part was pretty obvious, too.
It had always been him, for her.
And now, just when she least expected it, here he was. Alone. With her. In exactly the circumstances they’d spent the past several months striving to avoid.
Even though his back was facing her, she’d have recognized him anywhere. His concentrated movements at his architect’s drafting board were uniquely his own. So was his take-charge stance. And his aura of general authority…and his absolute, one of a kind, drop-dead hunkiness.
Had she mentioned the hunkiness? Jack Brennan personified yummy bachelor male—which was probably why Katie had thrown all caution to the wind seven months ago (an occasional impulsiveness was her only real weakness), and broken her ultimate rule: no flirty office flings.
Well, that had come back to bite her, now hadn’t it?
All the same, she couldn’t resist lingering. Jack couldn’t see her, didn’t appear to have heard her, and seemed to be deeply engrossed in whatever architectural plans he was working on. Drawn by a compulsion even more irresistible than the craving for eggnog latte and Christmas cookies that had required a desk-to-Starbucks hike at three-thirty that afternoon, Katie took a step nearer. She absently hugged her belongings closer. And then, even though she knew she shouldn’t, she let go and allowed the longing she always felt for Jack Brennan to wash over her.
A rueful smile tugged at her Scarlet Surprise lipsticked mouth. They’d had some good times together. Happy times. Sexy times. If not for—
Jack suddenly stilled. He glanced over his shoulder, his dark-eyed gaze going straight for Katie. The intensity of his regard shrank the thirty-odd feet between them to mere inches. Curious, heated inches.
Busted. Feeling her heartbeat kick into high gear, Katie lifted her chin. She looked back at him. They were supposed to be avoiding each other, and she knew it. So did he.
For the space of several scattered breaths, neither she nor Jack spoke. A connection spun between them all the same, though, a connection that was heady and spicy and meaningful, and laden with a sense that, if only things had been different….
“Did you lose your magic slipper, Cinderella?” he asked.
On that confusing note, Jack came toward her. Unable to move, even though she ought to, Katie unwisely savored the power of his strides, the width of his shoulders. She held her breath as he crouched a few feet to her right then retrieved one of her prized stilettos.
When he straightened and held it toward her, his height called to mind the way she used to tuck her head cozily beneath his chin, as though she’d been made to possess that niche. Katie blinked to dispel the memory. Christmas was a time for department store Santas and artificial snow in the Tiffany’s windows—not regrets. Never regrets.
Her fingers closed on the strappy shoe. It must have fallen from her
arms while she watched him, she realized. She’d been too engrossed to notice (a secret sappiness was her only real weakness). And not noticing when one of your Manolos had gone missing…well, that was serious stuff.
She tried to give him a smile, so he wouldn’t guess exactly how little she’d gotten over him since their split. “Thanks. I guess this makes you my own personal Prince Charming, doesn’t it?”
Jack felt the shoe slip from his hand. Assuming what he hoped was a dispassionate air, he watched Katie arch and twist as she traded her workday shoes for the sexy, sassy glamour of Cinderella shoes.
It wasn’t an easy task. Watching her, that is. Not if he wanted to remain sanely uninvolved, and rationally un-tempted. Moving the way Katie did, especially in a nothing little slip of a dress like hers, ought to be illegal. And he ought to be arrested for his own protection, for allowing himself to enjoy it. But he did enjoy it, all the same. Too much.
They’d been right to avoid each other all these months, Jack decided. No matter how he wished that weren’t true.
“Prince Charming?” he repeated. “Not quite. Wrong fairy tale. But I’d be willing to bet you’re late for the ball.”
She nodded. “Party. At Boondoggles. You want to come?”
What he wanted—what he needed—to do was work. “Brennan” had been at the top of the company letterhead for three generations. Because of that, the idea that Jack owed his success more to family connections than to effort or talent had dogged him for years. Despite having started at the bottom of the corporate career ladder. Despite having earned steady promotions. Despite having won a shelf full of design awards that decorated his same-as-everyone-else’s cubicle.
During this slow week before Christmas, he’d planned to get a leg up on the new year’s designs. He’d planned to take advantage of the quiet offices and really get some things done, including drawings for several innovative new subdivision elevations he’d come up with. But now, faced with Katie’s indomitable appeal…well, strangely enough, Jack felt his resolve to get down to work double.
Maybe it was simply human nature kicking in. Survival of the stubbornest. Or maybe it was plain old self preservation at work. Because when it came right down to it, stepping up to the life-is-a-party banquet that was being with Katie Moore hadn’t meshed with what he needed.
What he wanted was another story.
Jack inhaled the cinnamon-spicy scent of her perfume and the fizzy-sweet energy surrounding her. For an instant, he closed his eyes. If only things had been different….
“No, thanks,” Jack made himself say. “I’ve got—”
“Work to do, I know. Haven’t you heard that saying? Something about all work and no play?”
Her mischievous grin captured him as she glanced up from adjusting her shoe strap. Her soft, stylishly-cropped hair, nearly as black as his own, seemed as cheery as her smile. Its shaggy ends whisked briefly over his forearm as she straightened.
“I know you have.” She adjusted her discarded suit jacket over her arm. “So how about it? Sure you won’t ditch your drafting table and come along? It’s Christmas, after all.”
Sure, Christmas. The only time of year when hard work wasn’t its own reward, and the whole world exploded into some kind of tinsel-coated, red satin-beribboned, blinking-light-festooned fantasy land. The holidays were the most difficult time of year for Jack, and never ending renditions of “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer” weren’t the half of it. No matter what he did, he’d never been able to shake a feeling of discontent at Christmastime.
Spending the evening with the only woman he’d never quite gotten over—but definitely should have, given their disparate outlooks on life—probably wouldn’t be the cure-all he needed, either.
“Nah.” He mustered a smile. “But you go on. Have fun. Dance on a few tables for me, will ya’?”
Katie nodded, her hazel-eyed gaze never quite meeting his. Not wanting to prolong a conversation that was undoubtedly uncomfortable for them both, Jack nodded, too. As he turned away, he touched her shoulder in farewell, the gesture automatic. Well-intentioned. And unexpectedly sensual.
The warmth of her bare skin stopped him instantly. He thought of long nights and cool sheets, of whispers in the dark and shared laughter that went on and on. He thought of her. And of losing her. Like a fist, regret closed over him.
Their gazes met. Suppressed yearning tightened his muscles and shortened his breath. All he wanted, all he needed in that moment, was Katie. And him. Together. His hunger for it was as certain as the hammering of his heart, as inevitable as the Scotch pine tree-sale lots springing up amid the Arizona saguaros at Christmastime.
“Katie—”
“Well, sorry to bother you, then,” she blurted. “I’ll, um, see you around.”
Her skittish expression made him want to comfort her with a caress. Her sudden wariness when he stroked his fingers over her skin—once—made him pull his palm away. Jack watched her.
“When a girl’s deprived of her Prince Charming,” she said lightly, fiddling with her things again, “there’s only one thing to do, you know. Guess I’m destined to kiss a lot of frogs tonight.”
At the impish, falsely-rueful look on Katie’s face, temptation flared again. Her feisty spirit attracted him like nothing else. Don’t do it, Jack ordered himself as he thought over what she’d said and instantly formulated a reply. Just don’t—
“Ribbit,” he said.
Katie’s eyes widened. Then, she laughed. “Don’t tempt me, wiseguy. I’ve got more lipstick in that bag—” She nodded toward her spangled Santa purse. “—and I’m not afraid to use it. Afterward.”
She raised her eyebrows. He smiled. Hers was a challenge any red-blooded male would have been crazy to refuse. Never mind their shared history. Never mind the risks inherent in leaning forward to make sure she knew he could accept a dare as easily as she could issue one.
All at once, Katie’s casually-said words sparked something new and fresh between them. Jack could no more deny it than he could remember the correct order of the geese and the drummers and the lords-a-leaping in the “Twelve Days Of Christmas” song.
He wanted to kiss her. She seemed interested in kissing him. And in the dimness of the deserted office, with Christmas cards tacked on the cubicle walls and gold foil garlands decorating the desktop PCs, it suddenly seemed entirely appropriate that they do so.
Which was how Jack knew he was in way over his head this time. And it was only likely to get worse, the more time he spent with Katie.
But this was only one moment. Nothing more. And because of that, he angled his body closer. Their clothes touched, vibrant red meeting shades of gray. She glanced upward, and the teasing intimacy between them expanded. How many times had they come together like this, savoring the breaths between nearness and contact? How many times had he kissed her, and not been able to stop?
“Not enough,” she whispered, as though guessing his thoughts. Then Katie stepped closer, too.
Anticipation coursed through him, coupled with the familiar rush going toe-to-toe with her always gave him. Ruefully, Jack shook his head. Only an idiot came this close to tasting forbidden fruit…a hungry idiot.
“There must be some mistletoe someplace nearby,” he said.
“I don’t need an excuse.” She raised her brows again.
At the implied do you? in her look, Jack felt his heartbeat quicken. He’d never been able to resist a challenge. Probably, that was part of the reason Katie appealed to him so strongly.
Probably, it was part of the reason he hadn’t been able to put their brief affair behind him. Yet.
“Neither do I,” he said, and lowered his head to kiss her.
Chapter Two
Hardly daring to breathe, Katie watched as Jack lowered his head. She wanted to touch him, to wrap her arms around him, to make sure he stayed with her for as long as she needed. But her arms were filled with her boring plain pumps, and her Responsible Accounts Manager suit jack
et, and her adorable little Santa bag, and so she had to settle for watching. And waiting. And needing.
This was crazy; she knew it. They’d agreed things could never work between them, had mutually and amicably parted. But now…now all Katie wanted was Jack. At least for as long as a mistletoe-free holiday kiss would last.
Was that really so wrong?
If it was, she didn’t care. Not while the promise of a moment’s reconnection lingered within reach. Not while Jack brought his mouth nearer and nearer to hers, his arrestingly-angled face and wicked dark eyes coming ever closer. He was the Christmas gift Katie would have chosen, in a perfect world. But since this world was ordinary and flawed and filled with things like disco-dancing display Santas and inedible plastic gingerbread houses, an early-evening kiss would have to do.
At the moment, it would do quite nicely, too.
The warmth of his mouth reached her, preceding the touch of his lips by a heartbeat. Wanting, needing, Katie rose on her tiptoes. The motion carried her the last half-inch between them. Their mouths met, just barely. Jack drew in a breath—a gesture she recognized with giddy eagerness, since experience had taught her his hoarse inhalation meant their kiss was about to deepen—and Katie tightened her grasp on her things. Yes, yes, yes—
A loud knocking came from the reception area.
No, no—
Jack blinked like a man awakening from a long winter’s nap, and raised his head.
Oh, hell.
The mood was broken. Unreasonably disappointed, Katie lowered until her stiletto heels touched carpet. The knocking continued.
“The door to the reception area is locked after five o’clock.” Jack’s voice was husky. He cleared it. “I’d better go see who that is.”
She nodded. He cast her a reluctant look and ran a hand through his hair, calling her attention to the blunt, nimble shape of his fingers—and to the fact that those fingers wouldn’t be tracing any of the familiar, fondly-remembered paths her body seemed insistent on hoping for. Frowning, Katie tried to take comfort in the stick-your-head-in-a-wind-tunnel hairstyle his gesture caused. It didn’t work. Even rumpled and frustrated, Jack looked incredible.
