Maverick Holiday Magic. Teresa Southwick

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Maverick Holiday Magic - Teresa Southwick Mills & Boon True Love

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now that she had a wedding outfit, it was a weekend she was looking forward to.

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      Hunter slowed the SUV until he found the address Merry had given him and came to a stop in front of her small yellow house with white trim. There was an old truck in the driveway with Matthews Electrical written on the side of it. He’d promised to pick her up for the flight to Colorado that would take them to his brother’s wedding.

      “Well,” he said to Wren, “this is the place.”

      “Daddy, I’m going to get Miss Merry.” Wren was out of the car before he could stop her.

      Hunter turned off the engine, jumped out of the vehicle and followed his daughter up the sidewalk to the porch. He noticed a for sale sign on a sturdy white post prominently displayed in the neatly trimmed front grass. That bothered him a little and it shouldn’t because he barely knew the woman. But Wren liked her and he wasn’t in favor of any changes that could potentially affect her happiness.

      The door opened before he could knock and Merry was there, a smile on her face as bright as the cheery yellow paint on her house. Hunter felt a thump in his chest, one hard whack that seemed to jump-start his heart.

      “Good morning, Wren. Hunter.”

      “Hi, Miss Merry. We’re goin’ on Gramps’s jet. He’s taking the whole family on it. Have you ever been on a jet?”

      “Yes. Once. But it was a commercial flight, not private. This is very exciting.”

      “I can’t wait.” His daughter was practically quivering with anticipation.

      “We’re running late,” Hunter said. “But if you need a little more time, I guarantee they’ll hold the plane for the flower girl. Maximilian Crawford will make sure of that.”

      Merry smiled up at him. “I’m ready to go. My suitcase is right here by the door. My dress is in a garment bag. Is that okay?”

      Before he could say it was fine, Wren jumped in.

      “Daddy and me have that, too. My dress is so pretty. I’m gonna look like a princess. Right, Daddy?”

      “Honey, you look like a princess to me no matter what you wear.”

      Love expanded inside him when she smiled up at him like that, as if he was her hero. Then he looked at Merry and felt that whack in his chest again. Her blond hair was a mass of curls, and enthusiasm sparkled in her hazel eyes. There was a flush of pink on her cheeks that could be about the chill in the air or the beginning of an adventure. Whatever the cause, he was oddly reluctant to stop looking at her.

      “Should we get going?” Merry asked.

      That snapped him out of it. They were late. “I’ll get your suitcase.”

      “Thanks.” She backed up and let him reach inside to grab the handle of the bag that had seen better days. “I’ll get my dress.”

      “What can I carry?” Wren asked.

      Merry thought for a moment. “Why don’t you hold my purse while I lock the door?”

      “Okay.” The little girl took the big bag. “This is heavy.”

      “It is. Set it on the porch, sweetie.” She locked up, then took her purse for the walk to the car.

      Hunter hit a button on his key fob and the SUV hatch slowly lifted. He put her bag in the back with the other two, then took her dress and settled it on the rear passenger hook. “Okay, ladies. Let’s roll.”

      “I have to sit in the back in my car seat, Miss Merry. Daddy says so.”

      “It’s safer for you, sweetie.”

      “That’s what he says, too.”

      “Do you want me to sit back there with you?”

      Wren thought for a moment then said, “No. It’s nice for him to have someone to talk to until I’m big enough to sit in the front with him.”

      That settled that. They all got in and buckled up. It wasn’t often there was a woman—a beautiful woman—riding in his front passenger seat. This was different—not bad different, just enough for him to feel a little tongue-tied. Fortunately his daughter picked up the conversation slack.

      “We’re goin’ to Billings. That’s where the airport is. I brought my princess bride doll with me.”

      “That seems very appropriate for this occasion,” Merry said.

      “My dress is prettier than hers. But she has a tiara. I asked Aunt Avery if I could wear one and she said she didn’t think it would go with my dress.”

      “It was a diplomatic no,” Hunter said so only Merry could hear. She laughed, then covered it with a cough.

      “I wish I could wear one.” Wren sighed and it was loud enough to be heard over the road noise. “Daddy says I’m his princess and everyone knows princesses wear tiaras.”

      “That makes sense,” Merry said thoughtfully. “But a princess is always sensitive to the feelings of people around her. And this is going to be your aunt Avery’s special day when she marries your uncle Finn. A princess would never do anything to spoil a bride’s wedding day. Don’t you think so, Wren?”

      That got a grudging “I guess so” and Hunter was impressed by the way Merry handled that situation. When they arrived at the airport he parked at the terminal where they would board his father’s Gulfstream jet. The crew met them and took their luggage before Hunter, Merry and Wren walked up the steps and into the aircraft.

      Hunter waved to everyone on board and a quick head count indicated they were the last ones to arrive. He started to make introductions but was interrupted by an announcement to take their seats and fasten seat belts in preparation for takeoff. The plush leather and teak-trimmed cabin was configured with individual seats of four with a table in between to form a conversation area. There were also a couple of couches that would accommodate three and only one was left. His daughter plopped herself down on one end. That meant he and Merry would be sitting side by side. Unlike the front seat of his SUV, there would be no console between them.

      “Sit next to me, Miss Merry.”

      “Okay.”

      Hunter took the empty space beside her and their shoulders brushed, their legs touched. He was grateful the stretchy pants she wore tucked into shin-high black boots meant her skin was not bare. When he fastened his seat belt, his fingers brushed her thigh, or more accurately the cream-colored sweater that covered her hips and butt. She smelled disarmingly female and sweet, a thought that sent a tsunami of testosterone crashing over him.

      When everyone was secured, they received permission from the control tower to taxi down the runway and in seconds they were off. As soon as the seat belt sign was turned off, Wren bounced up and said she was going to talk to Aunt Avery and tell her she didn’t mind not wearing a tiara.

      More than almost anything

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