The Christmas Triplets. Tanya Michaels

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СКАЧАТЬ since Thanksgiving, the flower shop had been selling a lot of poinsettias and wreaths, but the cowboy frowning intently at the chart on the counter was obviously looking for something else. Watching him try to make a selection, Megan Rivers thought suddenly of her ex-husband—of the colorful gerbera daisies he’d brought her when the fertility treatments finally worked and, months later, the overpriced guilt bouquets when he cheated on her during her complicated pregnancy. Was the handsome cowboy who’d wandered in seeking a way to ease his own guilt?

      Where’s your holiday spirit, Meg? This was supposed to be the “most wonderful time of the year,” not the most cynical.

      Besides, when the man tipped back his hat for a better look at an arrangement, she recognized him as a local rancher who’d been really kind to her three-year-old daughters at a town festival a few months ago. After a moment of searching her memory, his name came to her. “It’s Jarrett, right? Can I help you find something?”

      “Yes, please.” He gave her a grateful smile. “I’m drawing a blank. Roses for romance, lilies for bereavement. What kind of flower says ‘I know your parents make you crazy, but it’s just a few days and you’re a badass who can handle anything’?”

      Megan laughed in spite of herself. She could relate to parental anxiety. Her own mother was...challenging. “Hmm. That’s not a request we get every day. But lavender is known to be soothing. We could make sure there’s some of that included.”

      She opened a sample book and flipped through some photos, suggesting changes they could make to personalize each bouquet. A few minutes later, as she was writing Jarrett’s contact information on an order form, the bell above the door rang, signaling the arrival of Gayle Trent, the local sheriff’s mother.

      Megan waved. “Good morning. Here on wedding-related business?” The sheriff was getting married in a couple of weeks, and Megan was responsible for all the arrangements, boutonnieres and pew bows. The bride-to-be had placed the pertinent orders weeks ago, but she wouldn’t be the first bride to second-guess details as the big day approached.

      Gayle shook her head. “Just picking up the wreath for the quilting club’s annual holiday luncheon.”

      Jarrett turned to enlist her help. “As long as you’re here, Mrs. Trent, can I get your opinion on these flowers I’m ordering for Sierra?”

      After both Megan and Gayle had assured him his girlfriend would love the arrangement, he bade them a cheerful farewell.

      Watching him walk down Main Street through the store window, Gayle snickered. “He is so smitten. And who can blame him? Sierra Bailey is gorgeous—and just feisty enough to keep him in line. Watching him dote on her, it’s hard to believe he was the town’s most notorious heartbreaker.”

      Avoiding the older woman’s gaze, Megan busied herself with ringing up the wreath. She barely knew Jarrett Ross, but as far as she could tell, the biggest heartbreaker in town was her own next-door neighbor—and Gayle’s son—Will Trent. Unlike his soon-to-be-married older brother, Will went out with a new woman every week. Megan could admit that the dark-haired firefighter was appealing in a superficial, blue-eyed and flirtatious way, but judging from his romantic habits, he had a shorter attention span than the average preschooler. Was Gayle oblivious to her son’s busy dating schedule?

      Unlikely. Megan had been here less than a year, but she’d quickly discovered that the town of Cupid’s Bow thrived on gossip. Maybe Gayle was choosing willful ignorance.

      “That will be thirty-nine dollars,” Megan said, hoping the subject of local heartbreakers was officially closed.

      But Gayle was still chuckling as she pulled her wallet from her purse. “Good thing Jarrett met Sierra when he did. Eventually, he would have run out of eligible ladies here in town. Although you never dated him, did you, dear?”

      “No, ma’am.” Megan hadn’t dated anyone since moving here after her divorce. When would she find the time? There were hardly enough hours in the day to balance her job as a florist with raising triplets. And she wouldn’t have gone out with Jarrett Ross anyway, given his reputation. She’d learned her lesson the hard way, married to an incurable flirt who’d had two affairs she’d confirmed and others she’d suspected.

      “Well, if you’re not seeing anyone,” Gayle teased, “maybe we can introduce you to some nice single men at the wedding.”

      Megan managed not to shudder. “That’s sweet, but I have triplets. I barely have the energy to drive to work in the morning, much less try to impress a man.” What would she discuss with a bachelor anyway? Her last year had centered on potty training, teaching her kids the alphabet and keeping Daisy—the most adventuresome of her girls—out of trouble.

      Parenting wasn’t easy, but even at her most exhausted, Megan was grateful for her girls. There had been discouraging days she’d doubted the fertility treatments would ever work. Now she was blessed with three children!

      I have my daughters. I don’t need a man.

      * * *

      THE PROBLEM WITH playing your brothers at poker, Will Trent decided Thursday night, was that they knew you too well for bluffing to succeed. Earlier in the evening, the cards had been with him, but it seemed his luck had run out.

      “That’s it.” He tossed his crappy pair of fours on the table and eyed his brothers. “Get out of my house. I don’t want to see either of you again until Christmas. And I expect you to buy me excellent gifts with the cash you’ve won off me.”

      His younger brother, Jace, snorted. “I plan to blow my winnings on liquor and women. Life is a nonstop party.”

      Will rolled his eyes. His brother’s outrageous comments came from a habit of trying to rile their opinionated parents, who disapproved of Jace not finishing college and becoming a bartender. “You’ve had one and a half beers in the last four hours, and you spend half of your nights off with us. Lame.”

      “About not seeing us again until Christmas,” Cole interrupted, “you do realize you’re supposed to be my best man in two weeks?”

      “Oh, your wedding is this month? I completely forgot.”

      “I know you’re kidding,” Cole said, “but make any jokes like that in front of my future wife, and I’ll find a reason to lock you in the town jail. Kate’s a bundle of nerves, worried something will go wrong.” As he finished the sentence, his expression turned sheepish, as if he suddenly remembered how wrong Will’s own wedding had gone.

      Although to say it had gone wrong implied it had actually happened.

      Will’s fiancée had broken off their engagement the night before they were supposed to get married. He suppressed the humiliating memory, confident Kate and Cole’s big day would be perfect. They adored each other; they even loved each other’s kids, from Kate’s handful of a fourteen-year-old to Cole’s twin girls.

      “I would never do anything to cause Kate stress,” Will solemnly promised. As far as he was concerned, she and her son were already family.

      “I know she’s excited about the wedding,” Cole said, “but it’s also bringing up a lot of memories of her late husband. And she’s anxious about our trip to Houston this weekend.” They were going to the city so Cole could meet some of her friends and former teaching colleagues—people who’d been part of her life before her СКАЧАТЬ