Mistletoe Mommy. Tanya Michaels

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      Eliza ducked her head closer to her plate of cheddar garlic mashed potatoes as if embarrassed to be caught doing something nice for her kid sister.

      “Kindergarten?” Brenna echoed. “That must make you, what, eleven years old?”

      Morgan giggled. “Four! But I’m almost five.”

      Adam ruffled her hair fondly, looking more relaxed than he had since he’d first pulled over for Brenna. She imagined that sitting in front of a plate of pot roast beat the heck out of interminable hours cooped up in a car with antsy kids. “That’s right,” he said. “We’ll have to search Mistletoe for the perfect way to celebrate your birthday next Thursday.”

      Eliza’s fork hit the edge of her plate with a clatter. “Friday! Her birthday is Friday. Don’t you even know that?”

      Adam flushed darkly. “I know exactly when each one of you was born. Morgan’s birthday is June twenty-sixth.”

      “That’s Friday,” Eliza said, less forcefully.

      “Oh.” Her father leaned back against the vinyl bench. “I was just confused about my days.”

      His oldest daughter nodded, while his younger daughter looked on apprehensively. Geoff continued to shovel in food at warp speed, sparing absolutely no attention for the people around him.

      “I promise,” Adam added. “I know every one of your birthdays. June twenty-sixth. February tenth. November third. You’re the most important people in my life.”

      Brenna was moved by the declaration but also vaguely uncomfortable at being present for it. She was barely at ease with open sentiment in her own family, much less a stranger’s. She focused on her fried-chicken salad with all the intensity of a grad student taking a final, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adam reach across the table for Eliza’s hand. And saw the girl reflexively jerk away.

      Ouch.

      Eliza shoved her plate to the side. She waited a beat before asking, “Can I go play air hockey? Geoff can go with me.”

      The boy had emptied his plate, stopping just short of licking it clean.

      Reluctantly Adam nodded. “I guess. You need quarters?”

      “No. Mom gave me money.”

      There was some shuffling as Brenna stood so that the two adolescents could get out of the booth.

      “Can I go, too?” Morgan implored. “I wanna watch.”

      “Don’t you want to finish your cheeseburger?” Adam asked.

      “Nuh-uh. My tummy feels funny.”

      “All right. But I’ll save it for later in case you change your mind.” His expression was nakedly poignant as he watched his children walk away. Whatever his shortcomings, he adored those three. Brenna hoped for his sake that he found a way to convince them of that in the next few weeks.

      With a sigh, Adam looked at Brenna. “You must think I’m the worst parent in the world.”

      “Far from it. Trust me.”

      “I do surgeries where another person’s life is literally in my hands, and it doesn’t make me half as nervous as a two-minute conversation with my daughter.”

      “I don’t know.” She feigned confusion. “Morgan didn’t seem that scary to me.”

      His laugh was deep and appealing, and his dark eyes crinkled attractively at the corners. “Believe it or not, I—”

      “Brenna!”

      She turned her head, knowing her transportation dilemma had just been solved. “Josh. Hey.”

      Her stepbrother dropped his arm from Natalie’s shoulders long enough to extend a hand across the table toward Adam. “I’m Brenna’s brother, Josh Pierce.”

      “Dr. Adam Varner.”

      The two men shook, then Josh took a step back to continue the introductions, gesturing toward the very pretty blonde at his side.

      “This is Natalie Young, my girlfriend,” Josh said. He looked from Brenna to Adam, then back again, grinning from ear to ear. “And we are so glad to meet you.”

      Chapter Four

      Brenna almost groaned at the naked joy in her stepbrother’s expression. No, she wanted to tell him. Josh had made no secret of the fact that he wanted Brenna to date more, but Adam Varner was not an option. This was a critical time for her small company, her first potential “growth spurt,” a chance to turn a profit, instead of living bill to bill each month. Brenna needed to work hard this summer, not get distracted by a man—no matter how good looking he was, or how endearing his efforts with his kids. Besides, Adam had his own summer plans and would be gone in a few weeks.

      “Dr. Varner here is just passing through Mistletoe,” she said quickly. “He gave me a lift when my car died. Would you and Natalie mind taking me home?”

      “Of course not,” Josh said absently. His bright smile had dimmed to a frown. At first Brenna thought he was upset about the car situation—he and Fred had both nagged her to let Fred cosign on a car loan. It’s no more than he would do for me, Josh had said.

      Brenna had barely stopped herself from insisting that the situation was different. Instead, she’d simply told him, “I want to be self-sufficient. Need to be.” When you grew up subject to the whims of an unstable parent, you found that as an adult, you liked to be in control. Reliant on no one.

      “So, Dr. Varner, you’re an out-of-towner?” Josh asked. His tone had subtly shifted from Welcome to the family to You’d better not have any outstanding warrants for your arrest. “How convenient that you just happened to be driving by in time to pick up a lone woman in distress.”

      Adam looked unsure how to answer. “We were glad to be able to help.”

      “We?” Josh echoed, his gaze darting to Brenna. “Just how many strangers were in the car?”

      She sighed. “Four, three of them not even old enough to drive. Stop looking at Dr. Varner as if he’s suspect. And stop being so overprotective! I’m the older sibling, remember?”

      “As bossy as you are,” he said lightly, “how could I forget?”

      Natalie politely smothered her laugh.

      Adam scooted over on the bench. “Would you two like to sit down? We probably won’t see my kids again until they run out of quarters.”

      “Thank you.” Natalie sat next to him, and Josh took a seat on Brenna’s side.

      The waitress reappeared, clearing plates and promising a box for Morgan’s cheeseburger. When she asked if Josh and Natalie needed time to decide on their orders, Josh laughed. He had the menu memorized and had probably known what he wanted even before he parked his truck out front. He asked for the barbecue plate, and after a moment’s consideration, Natalie ordered a half-size СКАЧАТЬ