Meet Me Under The Mistletoe (O'Rourke Family 5) Read online

  “Ever the gentleman, Dr. McKenzie,” she murmured. “But I can manage this door on my own.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  “You mean you don’t want to hold the door for me?” Shannon sounded offended and he groaned.

  “No, that is, yes, of course I do, but…”

  Too late he saw the faint humor lurking in her green eyes.

  He’d been had, yet he wanted to laugh as well. There weren’t many women who could forgive a supposed insult that quickly. Especially one concerning family. Whatever faults Shannon O’Rourke might have, holding a grudge didn’t appear to be one of them.

  “So, what did you want?” she asked.

  Alex hesitated. He didn’t want anything, but for Jeremy’s sake he should keep things cordial between them. “It’s just… I’m sorry I upset you. And I want you to know that I appreciated the way you handled Jeremy. That’s all.”

  “Oh.” Confusion filled her eyes.

  A woman as beautiful as Shannon O’Rourke probably expected to be asked for a date, but he had no intention of getting involved with anyone, much less someone like Shannon. His friends and colleagues, everyone, kept saying it was just a matter of time, that if you’ve had one good marriage, you’re more likely to have a second good one.

  But he didn’t buy it.

  With Kim he’d gotten lucky, because he sure wasn’t good husband material, not with his family background of domestic warfare and divorce. God, he’d hated all the screaming and fighting.

  “Sir,” called the postal clerk with an edge of irritation in her voice. “There are a lot of people waiting.”

  “Better go.” Shannon flipped her hand and pushed through the double glass doors.

  Alex released a harsh breath as he watched the gentle sway of her hips as she headed for her car. Kim had been gone for almost a year. There wasn’t any reason to feel guilty for enjoying a woman’s legs.

  Except he did feel guilty.

  The rustle of restless feet and throat-clearing dragged his attention back to the post office. He returned to the counter and signed the credit slip, accompanied by applause from the line of postal customers. He walked outside with Jeremy while Shannon was still waiting to pull into the busy street, and his son dragged his feet, watching sadly as her sleek sports car finally merged into traffic.

  “Come along, son.”

  “I like her, Daddy.”

  “I know. I’m sure you’ll see her again. Shannon is our next-door neighbor.”

  Jeremy let out a very adult sigh. “But you made her mad.”

  It was undeniably true, even though she’d appeared to forgive what he’d jokingly implied about her brother. Yes, Shannon O’Rourke was temperamental, but she’d also shown that she was loyal.

  A far cry from his own family.

  After his parents divorced, Alex and his two siblings had been pawns in their incessant power struggles. And now they didn’t see one another anymore. They were too far-flung for one thing; his brother was in the Arctic studying global warming and his sister was working in Japan. As for his mother and father, they’d each been married and divorced several times to other people, and they still hated each other with a passion that poisoned everything around them.

  “Shannon isn’t upset with you,” he said finally. “So it’s okay.”

  “But she’s mad at you, Daddy.” Jeremy was obstinate in his own way, and he obviously felt that Shannon being mad was a problem, regardless of who she was mad at.

  Alex rubbed the back of his neck. After his rotten up-bringing, he’d worried he couldn’t love a child. But from the minute his newborn son, all red and wrinkled, opened sleepy eyes and blew a bubble at him, he’d turned into a marshmallow where the kid was concerned.

  “I know, son, but you still don’t need to worry about it.” He would have said everything was “all right,” but he’d said it too often when Kim was sick, and he’d felt like a hypocrite each time Jeremy crawled into his arms and believed him.

  His son gave him an exasperated look, which would have been comical if his eyes weren’t so serious. “Can we get her a Christmas present?”

  A Christmas present?

  What did you get for a woman who must have everything?

  “We’ll get a poinsettia,” Alex promised. Plants were usually safe, especially since it should look like a seasonal gesture. Or as an apology for the verbal faux pas he’d stumbled into over her brother.

  Jeremy looked relieved, and as they trudged back to the Cherokee, he turned his head to gaze in the direction Shannon had driven. For the first time in a year he wasn’t clutching Mr. Tibbles to his chest; instead, he was casually swinging the rabbit by one arm.

  Alex let out a sigh of his own. He had to be careful. Seeing too much of the woman next door could lead Jeremy into getting ideas about a new mommy.

  Yet as he fastened his son into the child’s car seat, Alex couldn’t help thinking about Shannon. She was undoubtedly headstrong and opinionated, as different from his wife as a woman could be. He’d considered casual dating since Kim’s death, but none of the women he’d met were particularly interesting.

  And none of them were like Shannon O’Rourke.

  Chapter Two

  Shannon let herself into the condo and tossed her purse onto the couch before plugging in the lights on the Christmas tree. She had to be out of her mind even to have considered offering to babysit.

  “Me, babysitting. Hah!”

  Yet even as she scolded herself, she remembered Jeremy McKenzie’s solemn blue eyes and a familiar ache filled her. She’d been eight when her father died, leaving her confused and hurt. The thought of Jeremy feeling the same way tore at her heart.

  “I’m not the motherly type,” she muttered. She couldn’t change a diaper or even heat a can of soup, though Jeremy was surely old enough not to need diapers any longer. Even that she wasn’t certain about, though she was pretty sure most kids were potty-trained by the time they were two or three. How old were her twin nieces when they’d stopped needing diapers? It was embarrassing to realize she didn’t know. They were her nieces, and she loved them dearly. Sinking into the chair next to the phone, Shannon dialed her youngest sister.

  “Hey, Kathleen. When did Amy and Peggy get potty-trained?” she asked without preamble.

  “Shannon?”

  “Yes. How old were they?”

  “Er…not quite two.”

  Two. Well, that was good. Undoubtedly kids developed differently, but Jeremy was probably past that stage. Not that it mattered. Alex McKenzie hadn’t given any sign of being interested in her, so she wasn’t likely to see much of either him or his son.

  It was so depressing. Her love life was a disaster area. She wanted an honest relationship with the right man, but what if the “right” man didn’t want someone like her?

  “What’s up, Shannon?”

  She shrugged, though her sister couldn’t see the gesture. “A little boy moved in next door, that’s all. He’s really cute, and I started thinking about diapers and stuff. It doesn’t mean anything, except I got curious.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?”

  “Positive.”

  Shannon said good-bye and dropped the receiver with disgust. It had to be her biological clock ticking that made her ask stupid questions. She was twenty-eight years old and unmarried—and unlikely ever to be married at the rate she was going, so of course her clock was screaming.

  Shaking her head, Shannon walked up to the bedroom to change into a pair of sweats and then began to run on the treadmill in her spare room.

  She had a great family, a terrific job, made plenty of money, and was perfectly comfortable, she told herself in time with her steps. It wasn’t the end of the world if the love of her life never showed up. Of course, it was hard to keep believing that with the rest of the world obsessed with love, and her own family acting as if Cupid had gone target-happy with his bow and arrows. Even Neil, her brother who had once equated marr
iage with the plague, had fallen off the deep end. So now Neil had Libby. Her oldest brother, Kane, had Beth and baby daughter, Robin. Patrick had Maddie and their new son, Jarod. Dylan and his wife, Kate, were expecting a baby. Only her youngest brother, Connor, was still unattached. Of course, her sisters weren’t married, though Kathleen was divorced. Shannon grimaced at the thought of Kathleen’s ex-husband. There were worse things than being single…like having a cheating spouse who’d run off when you were almost nine months pregnant with twins.

  A half hour later the doorbell rang and Shannon stopped the machine. She wiped her face with a towel, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a swig on her way to the door.

  “Who is that?” she called on her way downstairs to the door.

  She peeped through the curtain and gulped at the sight of Alex and Jeremy McKenzie.

  “Isn’t this just perfect?” she mumbled. Her face was flushed, her hair damp, and she was wearing an old pair of sweats. Well, it couldn’t be helped, so she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders as she opened the door. You could get through the worst situation by acting as if you owned the world.

  “Hi.”

  “Hello.” Alex’s velvet-rough voice rubbed over her edgy nerves like a silky cat. “Jeremy wanted to be sure you weren’t mad at us.”

  Mad?

  Shannon thought for a moment, then recalled the way Alex had seemed to mock Kane, her darling oldest brother. She was willing to give him a second chance, especially with Jeremy looking at her with that anxious expression in his eyes.

  “I’m not mad,” she said, looking down at Jeremy and smiling. He really was the dearest child, with such a sweet, sad, worried little face. No wonder her scant motherly instincts were clamoring for attention. How could anyone fail to adore him?

  “It’s for you,” Jeremy said, holding out a poinsettia wrapped in green foil and banded by a big gold ribbon and bow. “Can we come in?”

  “Of course you may,” Shannon said over Alex’s attempts to shush his son. She stepped back and raised an eyebrow.

  “Thank you,” Alex muttered.

  “Oooh,” exclaimed Jeremy. He’d marched into the center of the living room, and stared transfixed at the Christmas tree, winking and glowing in the corner.

  Alex understood his son’s fascination. It was a great tree, and at its base a small train ran around and around a miniature Victorian town at the foot of a snowy mountain. The houses were lit, ice-skaters twirled around a silver lake, and even the small street lamps twinkled.

  “Sorry about how I look, you caught me exercising,” Shannon said. She made no attempt at feminine fussing, and since she was flat-out beautiful with her healthy flush and sexy, mussed hair, it wasn’t necessary.

  “You look fine,” Alex muttered.

  In the soft glow from the Christmas tree her hair was a deep rich auburn, and he had a crazy urge to run his fingers through the silken strands, to discover if it was as soft as it looked. It occurred to him that she might not be a natural redhead since there wasn’t a freckle in sight on her peach complexion, but he shoved the thought away. Whether she was or wasn’t didn’t concern him. And he’d certainly never see the proof.

  “Well…thanks for the plant,” Shannon said. She put it by the fireplace, smiling at Jeremy as he tore his gaze away from the tree. “This is so pretty. Did you pick it out all by yourself?”

  “Uh-huh,” he said.

  “That was nice of you. You got the best poinsettia I’ve ever seen.”

  Jeremy’s smile was like sunshine, and Alex blinked. Where was his shy little boy? The grief-stricken, barely talking, rabbit-clutching four-year-old?

  “Mr. Tibbles said to get that one.”

  “You and Mr. Tibbles have good taste.” She glanced at Alex. “I don’t keep many treats around the house, but are lemon drops on the okay list?”

  “They’re fine,” he agreed, still bemused.

  Shannon took a crystal dish from the mantel and removed the lid before offering its contents to Jeremy. Soon his son was sucking on lemon sours and playing with the controls of the train gliding around the extravagant Christmas tree. Steam even came from the top of the engine when a button was pressed on the control panel. Jeremy seemed to enjoy that part especially, along with the train’s abrupt stops and starts.

  Alex warned Jeremy to be careful, but Shannon seemed unconcerned that the expensive set might be in danger.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “Would you like some soda?”

  “We don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “If you were trouble, I’d tell you.”

  Undoubtedly she would. Shannon O’Rourke was direct, self-assured and definitely wouldn’t pussyfoot around. She was also the walking, talking embodiment of everything he’d avoided his entire life—an explosion of emotion and passion wrapped up in flame-colored hair and flashing eyes.

  “Tell you what,” she said. “If you haven’t eaten dinner yet, we can order some pizza. I’m out of milk for Jeremy, but maybe they can bring some with the delivery.”

  He wanted to say no. He even opened his mouth to say no, only one look at his son’s ecstatic face changed his mind. Jeremy loved pizza, but his mother had declared it was unhealthy for children, so they’d rarely eaten any. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure why Kim had disapproved of restaurant and take-out food so much, but she had.

  “That sounds good,” he 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 s
eemed 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.