Meet Me under the Mistletoe. Julianna Morris

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agreed. “But it’s my treat.”

      “Whatever. The phone’s over there with the phone book, so go ahead and order. I’m going upstairs to change.”

      “Any preferences?”

      “No anchovies, that’s all.” She glanced at Jeremy. He looked hopeful, and she tried to guess what he might be wishing his daddy would order. “How about one of those dessert pizzas, too? One with lots of sugar and stuff on top.” Jeremy’s face turned blissful and she winked at him.

      Shannon climbed the staircase to her bedroom and willed her heart to stop beating so fast. She’d figured the post office was the last close contact she’d get with Alex McKenzie and his son, but now they were in her living room and her pulse was doing the Macarena.

      She took a quick shower, then pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Her footsteps were muffled on the thickly carpeted stairs, so when she descended to the living room, she was able to observe Alex and his son without them being aware of her presence.

      With a quiet sigh she sat on a step and watched.

      The two of them were lying on their stomachs, side by side, gazing at the tree and the train set her decorator sister, Miranda, had arranged for her a few days after Thanksgiving. This year, Miranda had outdone herself, creating a Victorian holiday wonderland out of the living room.

      “Choo, choo!” crowed Jeremy as the train chugged through the tunnel in the snowcapped mountain.

      He was darling, yet it was Alex who drew her gaze the longest, his jeans pulled taut over long, strong legs and a tight rear end. He didn’t look like any college professor she’d ever studied with, or else she would have paid more attention in class. His rugged good looks had probably turned engineering into a very popular subject—with the female students, at least.

      Shannon’s eyes drifted half-closed as she imagined what it would be like to be married to someone like Alex.

      It was a great fantasy, but reality kept intruding. Alex had said his wife had loved baking and doing crafts and making Christmas special; he’d probably be shocked that she had her home professionally decorated every year and couldn’t bake a cookie to save her life. Even Shannon’s mother had declared defeat in teaching her eldest daughter how to cook.

      The doorbell rang and she jumped up.

      “That must be our pizza,” she said brightly.

      They ate in front of the tree, sitting cross-legged and using the napkins provided by the delivery guy.

      “Mommy didn’t let us eat pizza,” Jeremy said after a while, then looked even more worried than before.

      “She didn’t?” It seemed odd, but there might have been reasons Shannon knew nothing about, like allergies or another problem.

      “Uh-uh.” He glanced quickly at his father, then carefully put his crust down on a napkin. “I get afraid, ’cause I don’t r’member her so good anymore.”

      Alex looked pained, and Shannon bit the inside of her lip. Jeremy had been so young when his mother died, it was inevitable his memories were fading.

      She put her forefinger over Jeremy’s heart, the way her own mother used to do when her youngest sister had worried about forgetting their father.

      “You’ll always remember her in here,” she said softly. “That’s the most important kind of remembering. Your mommy is always right here, so you don’t need to be afraid.”

      The youngster seemed to think about it, then nodded, looking more cheerful. His father handed him a piece of dessert pizza and they ate in silence until Jeremy looked up, his expression brightening.

      “Daddy, I bet if Shannon was my new mommy, we could eat pizza whenever we wanted.”

      Shannon inhaled a crumb and choked. Between coughing, thumps on the back from Alex and her eyes tearing, the moment passed without either of them having to say anything.

      Cripes.

      How did you handle a remark like that?

      “I think it’s time for us to go home,” Alex said when her windpipe had finally cleared. His face had become closed. “We’ve imposed long enough on Miss O’Rourke.”

      “But, Daddy, we—”

      “It’s time to go, son.”

      Jeremy’s mouth turned down mutinously, but he didn’t object again. Shannon insisted they take the last of the pizza, and she sank against the door as she closed it behind them, exhausted.

      She didn’t know what the expression on Alex’s face had meant, but he obviously did not share his son’s enthusiasm for getting a new mommy. He didn’t know her well enough to object to her personally, so it must be the idea of marrying again that had him feeling grief or guilt or another of the thousand emotions a widower must feel.

      Not that it mattered. She just wanted to help Jeremy.

      Right?

      But as Shannon gathered up the crumpled napkins and put the dirty glasses in the sink, she couldn’t shake the melancholy that had overtaken her. It was painfully obvious she was attracted to old-fashioned men, no matter what she’d told herself about wanting a modern guy with modern attitudes. And Alex McKenzie made her nerve endings stand at attention more than any man she’d met in recent memory.

      It doesn’t matter one way or the other, she told herself. Men usually were drawn to the same kind of woman, and from the little she’d learned about Alex’s dead wife, she wasn’t the least bit like her.

      “I’m going back to work,” Shannon told Kane a few days later. Her brother and his wife, Beth, had come to their mother’s house for a visit and she’d joined them, more on edge than ever. Not that seeing her brother had helped. Kane’s blissfully happy marriage was another reminder of how alone she felt.

      “I don’t think so.”

      “Kane, I want—”

      “You’ve been stressed out, you need to relax,” Kane interrupted. He finished diapering his daughter and lifted the baby to his shoulder. Robin looked even tinier against his broad chest, and something inside Shannon ached with renewed force. It was yet another reminder of everything she wanted, and couldn’t seem to get.

      “I’m fine.”

      “You can’t spend your entire life working,” Kane pointed out. His advice would have sounded reasonable except that before he’d gotten married he used to work more hours than she’d ever thought of putting into the company.

      Shannon’s mother patted her arm. “That’s right, darlin’.” Her Irish accent lilted, never quite lost despite the years she’d spent away from her native land.

      “I’m fine. It’s being on a forced vacation that’s driving me crazy.”

      That, and thinking about the McKenzies.

      She’d realized that Alex’s bedroom was on the other side of the wall from hers, and that knowledge was keeping her awake

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