Mistletoe Mommy. Tanya Michaels

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      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Tanya Michaels began telling stories almost as soon as she could talk…and started stealing her mom’s Harlequin romances less than a decade later. In 2003 Tanya was thrilled to have her first book, a romantic comedy, published by Harlequin Books. Since then, Tanya has sold nearly twenty books and is a two-time recipient of the Booksellers’ Best Award as well as a finalist for the Holt Medallion, National Readers’ Choice Award and Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® Award. Tanya lives in Georgia with her husband, two preschoolers and an unpredictable cat, but you can visit Tanya online at www.tanyamichaels.com.

      This book is dedicated to the caring and

       hardworking ladies of

       Koala T. Care Pet Sitting and Dog Walking.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter One

      The day Brenna Pierce was having would be enough to drive any woman crazy. Which, in Brenna’s case, would actually be an improvement, because at least she would be driving somewhere.

      Instead, she paced alongside a curvy stretch of blacktop in the pounding late-June heat. Her stepfather had raised her to believe that swearing was vulgar, but now, sweaty and exasperated, Brenna mentally chanted a stream of four-letter words, running them together in an all-purpose Über-Curse. Coincidentally, loan was a four-letter word—and something she might have to apply for soon.

      She’d been praying her ancient hatchback would make it through this summer, but the faded green car appeared to be on its last legs. Er, tires.

      Her cell phone wasn’t currently working, either. No bars here. Maybe she’d unintentionally discovered Mistletoe, Georgia’s answer to the Bermuda Triangle, a magnolia-lined stretch of asphalt where all things mechanical sputtered and died. Investigating scientists could name it the Brenna Straightaway.

      To find a patch with better reception, she’d climbed out of the car. Her pacing hadn’t netted any results yet, but she couldn’t cover more than a few yards without taking along the vehicle’s occupant, Lady Evelyn. Wiping damp strands of coppery hair away from her face, Brenna glanced through the open window. Lady Evelyn, a Yorkshire terrier, sat in the back seat wearing her safety restraint harness as imperiously as though it were crown jewels. The Yorkie glared, unamused by first the lack of air-conditioning—fixing the A/C would cost more than the car was worth—and now the unscheduled stop.

      At least Brenna had managed to almost coast to the shoulder. Though the vehicle wasn’t as out of the way as she would have liked, it also wasn’t in the middle of the road.

      Reaching inside, she patted her canine companion on the head. “What do you say, Evelyn? Wanna get out and help me push?”

      Beneath the pink bow holding up silky hair, the dog’s dark eyes seemed incredulous. Surely you jest. I’m a prizewinning purebred. I have ribbons. I don’t do manual labor.

      Hearing doggie voices in her head couldn’t possibly be a good sign. I have got to get out of the heat. Even more importantly, Brenna had to reach Patch by three-thirty. Four o’clock at the latest.

      Brenna grabbed the leash from the front seat. “Come on,” she said, unfastening Lady Evelyn’s safety harness. “Let’s go for a walk.”

      If they were lucky, she’d get cell reception just up the road and reach someone who could drop everything to come give them a ride. Preferably someone with air-conditioning. They hadn’t gone far when a car came barreling over the hill. Brenna waved her arm.

      As she squinted against the sunlight, she made out the people inside the oncoming vehicle: Rachel and David Waide. For a minute she didn’t think they were going to stop—odd, since the popular Mistletoe couple could usually be counted on to help anyone—but then David swerved to a haphazard halt just past her parked lemon. She scooped up Lady Evelyn and jogged toward the Waides.

      David СКАЧАТЬ