Maverick Holiday Magic. Teresa Southwick
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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 Hunter wanted to move away from Merry but he didn’t feel right about leaving her alone. They all knew he’d hired a nanny for the weekend but the noisy jet made introductions awkward. So, for the duration of the flight, he felt obligated to stay put and introduce her when they were on the ground.
Merry was looking around the interior, eyes wide. “I wonder where they keep the barf bags.”
“You don’t feel well?”
“I’m fine actually.” She laughed but there was a little uncertainty on her face. “It’s just nerves. When I get this way, I say weird things. Helps break the tension.”
“Okay.”
“In fact they probably don’t even have barf bags. Most likely there’s a rule against getting sick on the expensive leather seats.”
“Let them try to enforce that one,” Hunter said.
“I know, right?” She glanced a little anxiously at the rest of his family, chatting together in groups. “There are a lot of Crawfords on this plane.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry about not introducing you to all of them. I’ll take care of that when we land.”
“No problem. I’m just the hired help, after all.” She was still looking around the luxurious interior with an expression of awe that made her eyes look more green than brown.
“If we weren’t in such a rush, I’d have made sure they all met you. It’s my fault we were running late.”
She looked skeptical. “Something tells me your daughter was responsible for that. I know her from school, remember?”
“Yeah.” It was one of the reasons he’d hired her.
“I feel like I need to pinch myself. Maybe I should be paying you. I can’t believe I’m flying in a private jet. If anyone had told me I’d be doing this, I’d have said they were crazy. People with money really do live differently.”
“I suppose.”
His gaze drifted to his daughter, the child he’d raised alone almost from the day she was born. Money didn’t guarantee you wouldn’t lose the mother of your baby girl. He would give up everything he had in a heartbeat if it could bring Lara back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hmm?” He looked at Merry.
“That was unprofessional of me. It was tactless to say that.”
He thought her comments were honest and charming. “Why would you think so?”
“It seems as if I’ve heard you should never discuss money and politics.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Again, I plead nerves. Apparently getting up at the crack of dawn has disengaged the filter between my brain and my mouth. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
He smiled, but the movement felt rusty when directed at a woman. It seemed wrong somehow, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “Your unfiltered frankness is refreshing.”
It seemed her condition was contagious because things were popping out of his mouth, too. Was that crossing a line between employer and employee? If Merry was a ranch hand, he would know where the line was. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t had child care before. When Wren was a baby, he’d hired help from time to time. He had to work the ranch, after all. But with Merry he felt strongly about keeping boundaries firmly in place.
“Calling what I said frankness is generous of you,” she said. “I always thought of the word decadent in terms of dessert. But this experience has broadened the definition for me. However, I will, at some point, get over how special it feels to fly in a private jet.”
“You can thank my dad.”
“I will, of course.”
He laughed. “I didn’t mean that literally. Just that it was important to him that this be a fun family event from start to finish.”
“You can count on me. I’ll take good care of Wren so you can enjoy yourself this weekend.”
He already was. With her. And that realization surprised and bothered him. It was almost a relief when the captain announced they were starting their descent into the airport in Rustler’s Notch, Colorado. The flight time had, no pun intended, flown. Talking to Merry was pleasant. And distracting. More than he’d expected. Definitely more than he wanted.
It was disconcerting and uncomfortable when he realized he was caught between not wanting the flight to end and being grateful that it had been so short. That was the classic definition of conflict. He didn’t like conflict, especially when a woman was involved.
Merry was a little nervous when the plane landed, then taxied closer to the terminal. Her responsibilities were going to kick in and part of that would be interacting with the Crawfords. Time to put on her big girl panties and a friendly smile. The seat belt sign dinged off and everyone in the cabin stood to gather their belongings. They filed down the stairs and stood in a group not far from the plane.
“Listen up, everyone,” Hunter said. “Before we all split up, I want to introduce you to Meredith Matthews—”
“She’s Miss Merry,” Wren interjected.
Merry lifted her hand to wave everyone a friendly greeting, at the same time hating all the focus on her. “Hi.”
Hunter introduced his brothers and their wives one by one. She had already guessed who Avery and Finn were because Wren had spent a good portion of the flight talking princess with the bride. Max, the tall, handsome, silver-haired patriarch, was impossible to forget. But everyone else sort of blurred together.
“There are a lot of you,” she said ruefully. “I think you need to wear name tags.”
Everyone laughed and assured her there would be no hard feelings for a name mix-up. Then Hunter’s father directed the group to the three limousines waiting to take them to Rustler’s Notch Resort.
“Don’t we need to get our luggage?” Merry asked when they all started to move.
“It will be delivered to our rooms,” Hunter assured her. The doubt must have shown on her face because he added, “I promise it will be fine. And yes, rich people do live differently.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth. But if I don’t have my pajamas—”
“I will buy you whatever you need if I’m wrong.”
“Fair enough.”
Following Max’s instructions, the process was smooth and efficient. He and his youngest son, Wilder, climbed into the car with Hunter, Wren and Merry.
“Mr. Crawford,” she said to the family patriarch, “I would like to thank you for this weekend. I will take excellent care of your granddaughter.”
The man winked at the little girl, who’d insisted on sitting beside him. “Wrennie is very special to me.”
“I can see that, sir.”
“It will go to his head if you call him that,” Wilder teased her. He looked like a charming rogue, handsome with longish