Rescued by the Magic Of Christmas. Melissa Mcclone
Читать онлайн книгу.
parents had divorced after Nick’s death. Her father now lived in Oregon. Her mother lived in Scottsdale, Arizona. Both had remarried. “You’ve spoken to them?”
“Yes, they sounded pleased,” he answered. “Each asked for labels and a bottle.”
She wasn’t surprised. Nick had been the golden boy. No one, not Carly, their grandkids or each other, could fill the gap left in her parents’ hearts with his death.
“So do I get any?” Carly asked.
“I have a whole case for you. Labels, too. I’ll drop them off.”
“Thanks.”
“Come on—” Jacob motioned for her to follow “—the kids will be home soon. I need to fix them a snack.”
“Wait a minute. You’re going to fix them a snack?” The top of her head came to his chin. She looked up at him. “You guys always made me heat up the frozen pizzas and fix whatever else you wanted to eat.”
“Good practice for when you’re on your own,” he said.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve been on my own for—” Six years. She swallowed a sigh.
Jacob didn’t appear to notice. “I meant with the kids. They’ll expect you to fix their snack for them. And when Hannah goes into the hospital to have the baby—”
“I can handle it.” Once upon a time, Carly had dreamed of having children of her own. But like her other dreams, that one seemed to have died on the mountain, too. So she made the most of whatever time she could get with her niece and nephew, meeting them wherever they spent their summer vacation. Anywhere except here in the Pacific Northwest. She hadn’t wanted to come back. “Spending time with Kendall and Austin will be great.”
His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and her heart bumped. “We’ll see how you feel in a few days.”
Forget a few days. Carly didn’t like how she felt right now. But that had nothing to do with her niece and nephew and everything to do with the man standing in front of her. Still, she was a survivor, and like everything else, she would get through this. She raised her chin. “It’ll be no problem at all.”
No problem. Yeah, right.
Jake had a big problem. Her name started with C and ended with Y. He grabbed a Granny Smith apple from the fruit bowl and placed it on the wood cutting board.
Maybe if he concentrated on fixing the kids’ snack he could forget how Carly’s turtleneck sweater hugged her breasts and the curve of her waist. How her well-worn jeans cupped her bottom like a second skin. How her blond hair, now shoulder length, would look spread out over a pillowcase or a man’s chest.
His chest.
It was all Jake could do not to stare. Hell, drool. He reached for a knife.
Damn, she looked good. Better than he remembered.
The cold temperatures outside brought a natural color to her cheeks. Thick lashes, ones she’d had since she was little, framed expressive hazel eyes, eyes that no longer held the optimistic promise of tomorrow, but hinted at new depths he hadn’t seen before. And those pink, full lips smiling up at him made him think about kisses. And the one time he should have kissed her, but had hesitated and lost her. Not that he needed kisses now. A taste of those glossed lips, simply a nibble, was all he really wanted, but that wouldn’t be a smart move.
Hell, it would be downright stupid.
As he sliced the apple, the knife hit the cutting board with a thud.
“Be careful.” Carly neatly placed cheese and crackers on a plate. “You don’t want to lose a finger.”
Right now, he was more worried about losing his heart. Dammit.
His heart was off-limits, especially to a woman who was the only person aside from his father to call him Jacob and had left town six years ago never to return until now. Okay, not exactly true. She hadn’t been gone six years. Five years, seven months and twenty-eight days, if he wanted to be exact. Not that he’d been counting.
Granted she’d had her reasons. Good reasons.
But that hadn’t made her leaving any easier. Which reminded him. She wasn’t here to stay. Hannah had said two weeks. Long enough to turn everyone’s life upside-down, including his. He wanted no part of it. No part of her.
Besides, she deserved better than him.
Jake cut another piece of apple.
“The cheese and crackers are ready.” She placed an artfully designed plate on the table. “What next?”
“Hot chocolate.” He handed her the kettle from the top of the stove.
She frowned. “Won’t the water be too hot?”
“If it is, we add ice cubes.”
“You’ve got this kid snack routine down.”
Jake put the apple slices and a small container of caramel sauce on a plate. “I help out when needed.”
She filled the kettle with water. “How often is that?”
Not nearly enough. He set the plate on the table. “Whenever Hannah or Garrett can’t be here.”
“They’re lucky to have you.”
Jake was the lucky one.
A door slammed shut. Thuds of varying volumes echoed through the house. Voices sounded, yelled, screeched.
He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “The bus was early today.”
“So a herd of elk hasn’t just walked into the house?”
“Elk would be quieter.”
With a smile, Carly hurried out of the kitchen. Jake followed her, trying to ignore the sway of her hips. Maybe he needed to go out tonight. Between work and OMSAR activities, he hadn’t been dating much. A woman—make that a woman other than Carly—would get his mind right where it needed to be.
“Aunt Carly!” Seven-year-old Austin ran into her arms before she took three steps into the living room. “You’re here.”
“I told you she was here.” Kendall, nine years old, hugged Carly. “I saw a different car in the driveway.”
Carly held both of the kids tight as if she didn’t want to let go of them. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown since last summer.”
Austin beamed. His blond hair stuck up all over the place. “We’re big now.”
Carly laughed. “So big.”
“Mom asked us to stop growing,” Austin said. “But I told her that was impossible.”
Kendall rolled her eyes. “Mom was kidding.”
“Kidding or not, I understand why she said that.” Carly kissed the tops of the kids’ heads, staring at them with longing and love. “I wish you would stay little forever.”
Watching the three together brought a bittersweet feeling to Jake’s heart. The kids needed Carly. Not only when Hannah delivered the baby or when they went on vacations, but also on a regular basis, where they could share their lives and days with their father’s sister. With their aunt.
Carly stared at Austin. “You look so much like your daddy.”
A perplexed look crossed the young boy’s face. “Which daddy? The dead one or the one who’s alive?”
Kendall’s long sigh could have propelled all the windmills in eastern Oregon. She tucked a blond curl behind her ear. “Our first daddy, right, Aunt Carly?”
“That’s right.” Her voice cracked slightly.
Jake fought the urge