His Holiday Heart. Jillian Hart

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His Holiday Heart - Jillian Hart

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work. He didn’t approve of dreams.

      Snow beat with impossible force against the windshield, and he started out in low gear, going slowly. He struggled to see the road at all.

      The darkness seemed endless tonight, and he felt small and alone as he drove three streets down and five blocks over.

      “Let me know if you need anything, okay?” Rebecca was saying from the hallway. “There are extra towels in the side cabinets and a new toothbrush in the top drawer on the left side of the sink.”

      “You are very well-equipped for visitors.” Lucy couldn’t help being impressed. “My guest room is full of cardboard boxes I haven’t unpacked yet.”

      “The munchkins stay over now and then. My nephew and niece,” she explained.

      “It must be wonderful that you’re so close to them.”

      “And that’s the way it’s going to stay.” She stopped at the guest bathroom door and stepped inside to put a new tube of toothpaste on the counter. “I’m getting married in January, and one of the first things Chad said when we were talking about how we were going to fit all his stuff in this condo was that there had to be room for the munchkins to stay over.”

      “And soon there will be more nieces and nephews to dote on.” Lucy thought of the McKaslin twins, Ava and Aubrey, who were now both expecting.

      “Yes. Spence has said that we’re going to be outnumbered soon.” There was an electronic chime.

      “Is that your handsome fiancé?”

      “Sending me a text message.” Rebecca’s heart-shaped face brightened with unmistakable happiness from unmistakable love. “That means he’s home safe.”

      “He wants you to call him. Go.” Lucy remembered what it was like to be young and in love. “I can take it from here.”

      “Thanks, Lucy.” Rebecca was already heading down the hall. “Just interrupt if you need something. Promise?”

      “Promise.” Lucy stepped into the guest room with twin beds against two walls and a large window framed with floral-printed curtains.

      She smiled at the flannel pajamas on the foot of one bed—still in its wrapping. Rebecca was surely a thoughtful hostess. The McKaslins were a nice family. She was looking forward to tomorrow, even when it came to Spence. He was a serious mystery, and the glimpses she had seen of him had more than intrigued her. They had shown her a snapshot of sorrow she could not help being touched by.

      Everyone had a story; everyone knew sorrow. She knew that, but when it came to Spence, oftentimes it was easy to believe the cold, invincible face he presented to the world. She went to close the door, and the lights blinked out. Darkness descended, blotting out every shadow. She froze, disoriented. She didn’t know her way out of the room, and if she took a step with her luck she would bang right into the door.

      Rebecca’s voice floated down the hallway. She was still on the phone. “No, sweetheart, don’t come over. Stay where you’re warm. Lucy and I will be fine. I’ve got a flashlight and batteries right here, thanks to Spence.”

      Spence. Thanks to him there was a small light flashing to life at the end of the hall, chasing away the darkness. Whatever his flaws, he sure took good care of his family. Why hadn’t he married? Why did a bachelor own a house in a family neighborhood? Why did he walk around like a disgruntled grinch on Christmas Eve? Like Scrooge counting his money?

      It was a mystery, and there was nothing she liked more—other than a good romance, but that went without saying. She opened the door and made her way toward the light.

      Chapter Four

      “Oh, I can’t wait to meet this Lucy I’ve heard so much about.” Gran tossed him the merry look of hers that said she knew something he didn’t.

      It was probably because she had called Katherine or Danielle or Rebecca, any of whom would have been more than happy to inform their grandmother about Lucy Chapin. Disgruntled, he gripped the steering wheel tight and took his gaze briefly from the road to give Gran the Eye, adding extra squint and heavy frown.

      “What? You don’t like Lucy?” Gran’s wide-eyed innocence was not too innocent.

      Yep, they had all been definitely talking about Lucy. He scowled. It was best to keep quiet. Anything he said would be misinterpreted. He knew this from vast experience. He stared at the road, hoping Gran would get a hint and change the subject.

      “Lucy is quite successful, isn’t she?” Gran’s voice gave a little smile, as if that was a good thing.

      “Success is a matter of opinion,” he said. Even as he said the words, they did not sound harsh enough to his own ears.

      “Oh, I think a person can be successful in more ways than one.” Gran was practically singing she sounded so happy.

      He rolled his eyes. What had his sisters been saying?

      “Your grandfather was a very successful businessman by any standards, and yet he never once lost sight of the other ways a man can be successful.” Gran paused, as if she were waiting for him to ask what those ways could be.

      “The only success is not disappointing your family or God.” Maybe that would stop her. “I’m not interested in Lucy Chapin.”

      “Why not? She sounds as nice as could be.”

      “Nice? Nice is not what I’m looking for.”

      “You can’t fool me, dear boy. You are transparent to me.” Gran’s words warbled with love and delight.

      Thank heavens the ride was over. He pulled the truck into Katherine’s shoveled driveway and cut the engine. “Conversation over, Gran. Now don’t you move a muscle until I get over there to help you down. It’s slick as can be out there, and I won’t have you falling.”

      “Yes, dear.”

      Her amusement followed him out into the bitter cold. Her mood seemed to hover behind him like those storm clouds overhead. There was no doubt about it now; he was in for a hard time today. The women in his family were probably planning his and Lucy’s wedding. His pulse stopped. His foot slipped. He grabbed the bumper for support.

      Marriage. Now that was one trap he wasn’t going to be lured into.

      He opened the passenger door and helped Gran down. Jack had been out early and shoveled and deiced, but Spence wasn’t taking any chances. He kept a good hold on his grandmother until they were safely beneath the porch’s wide roof. He raised his hand to knock, but the door was already swinging open.

      Ava’s smiling face seemed to burst with secret happiness. Was it too much to hope that she was still ecstatic about her pregnancy? Or was it something else—like Lucy—that she was smiling about now?

      “Gran! Right on time.” Ava kissed their grandmother’s cheek and drew her into the warm house. “You’re looking more gorgeous than ever.”

      “So are you, dear.” Gran took Ava by the hands and admired her. “I never looked so lovely when I was pregnant.

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