Ever since Thanksgiving, the flower shop had been selling a lot of poinsettias and wreaths, but the cowboy frowning intently at the chart on the counter was obviously looking for something else. Watching him try to make a selection, Megan Rivers thought suddenly of her ex-husband—of the colorful gerbera daisies he’d brought her when the fertility treatments finally worked and, months later, the overpriced guilt bouquets when he cheated on her during her complicated pregnancy. Was the handsome cowboy who’d wandered in seeking a way to ease his own guilt?
Where’s your holiday spirit, Meg? This was supposed to be the “most wonderful time of the year,” not the most cynical.
Besides, when the man tipped back his hat for a better look at an arrangement, she recognized him as a local rancher who’d been really kind to her three-year-old daughters at a town festival a few months ago. After a moment of searching her memory, his name came to her. “It’s Jarrett, right? Can I help you find something?”
“Yes, please.” He gave her a grateful smile. “I’m drawing a blank. Roses for romance, lilies for bereavement. What kind of flower says ‘I know your parents make you crazy, but it’s just a few days and you’re a badass who can handle anything’?”
Megan laughed in spite of herself. She could relate to parental anxiety. Her own mother was...challenging. “Hmm. That’s not a request we get every day. But lavender is known to be soothing. We could make sure there’s some of that included.”
She opened a sample book and flipped through some photos, suggesting changes they could make to personalize each bouquet. A few minutes later, as she was writing Jarrett’s contact information on an order form, the bell above the door rang, signaling the arrival of Gayle Trent, the local sheriff’s mother.
Megan waved. “Good morning. Here on wedding-related business?” The sheriff was getting married in a couple of weeks, and Megan was responsible for all the arrangements, boutonnieres and pew bows. The bride-to-be had placed the pertinent orders weeks ago, but she wouldn’t be the first bride to second-guess details as the big day approached.
Gayle shook her head. “Just picking up the wreath for the quilting club’s annual holiday luncheon.”
Jarrett turned to enlist her help. “As long as you’re here, Mrs. Trent, can I get your opinion on these flowers I’m ordering for Sierra?”
After both Megan and Gayle had assured him his girlfriend would love the arrangement, he bade them a cheerful farewell.
Watching him walk down Main Street through the store window, Gayle snickered. “He is so smitten. And who can blame him? Sierra Bailey is gorgeous—and just feisty enough to keep him in line. Watching him dote on her, it’s hard to believe he was the town’s most notorious heartbreaker.”
Avoiding the older woman’s gaze, Megan busied herself with ringing up the wreath. She barely knew Jarrett Ross, but as far as she could tell, the biggest heartbreaker in town was her own next-door neighbor—and Gayle’s son—Will Trent. Unlike his soon-to-be-married older brother, Will went out with a new woman every week. Megan could admit that the dark-haired firefighter was appealing in a superficial, blue-eyed and flirtatious way, but judging from his romantic habits, he had a shorter attention span than the average preschooler. Was Gayle oblivious to her son’s busy dating schedule?
Unlikely. Megan had been here less than a year, but she’d quickly discovered that the town of Cupid’s Bow thrived on gossip. Maybe Gayle was choosing willful ignorance.
“That will be thirty-nine dollars,” Megan said, hoping the subject of local heartbreakers was officially closed.
But Gayle was still chuckling as she pulled her wallet from her purse. “Good thing Jarrett met Sierra when he did. Eventually, he would have run out of eligible ladies here in town. Although you never dated him, did you, dear?”
“No, ma’am.” Megan hadn’t dated anyone since moving here after her divorce. When would she find the time? There were hardly enough hours in the day to balance her job as a florist with raising triplets. And she wouldn’t have gone out with Jarrett Ross anyway, given his reputation. She’d learned her lesson the hard way, married to an incurable flirt who’d had two affairs she’d confirmed and others she’d suspected.
“Well, if you’re not seeing anyone,” Gayle teased, “maybe we can introduce you to some nice single men at the wedding.”
Megan managed not to shudder. “That’s sweet, but I have triplets. I barely have the energy to drive to work in the morning, much less try to impress a man.” What would she discuss with a bachelor anyway? Her last year had centered on potty training, teaching her kids the alphabet and keeping Daisy—the most adventuresome of her girls—out of trouble.
Parenting wasn’t easy, but even at her most exhausted, Megan was grateful for her girls. There had been discouraging days she’d doubted the fertility treatments would ever work. Now she was blessed with three children!
I have my daughters. I don’t need a man.
* * *
THE PROBLEM WITH playing your brothers at poker, Will Trent decided Thursday night, was that they knew you too well for bluffing to succeed. Earlier in the evening, the cards had been with him, but it seemed his luck had run out.
“That’s it.” He tossed his crappy pair of fours on the table and eyed his brothers. “Get out of my house. I don’t want to see either of you again until Christmas. And I expect you to buy me excellent gifts with the cash you’ve won off me.”
His younger brother, Jace, snorted. “I plan to blow my winnings on liquor and women. Life is a nonstop party.”
Will rolled his eyes. His brother’s outrageous comments came from a habit of trying to rile their opinionated parents, who disapproved of Jace not finishing college and becoming a bartender. “You’ve had one and a half beers in the last four hours, and you spend half of your nights off with us. Lame.”
“About not seeing us again until Christmas,” Cole interrupted, “you do realize you’re supposed to be my best man in two weeks?”
“Oh, your wedding is this month? I completely forgot.”
“I know you’re kidding,” Cole said, “but make any jokes like that in front of my future wife, and I’ll find a reason to lock you in the town jail. Kate’s a bundle of nerves, worried something will go wrong.” As he finished the sentence, his expression turned sheepish, as if he suddenly remembered how wrong Will’s own wedding had gone.
Although to say it had gone wrong implied it had actually happened.
Will’s fiancée had broken off their engagement the night before they were supposed to get married. He suppressed the humiliating memory, confident Kate and Cole’s big day would be perfect. They adored each other; they even loved each other’s kids, from Kate’s handful of a fourteen-year-old to Cole’s twin girls.
“I would never do anything to cause Kate stress,” Will solemnly promised. As far as he was concerned, she and her son were already family.
“I know she’s excited about the wedding,” Cole said, “but it’s also bringing up a lot of memories of her late husband. And she’s anxious about our trip to Houston this weekend.” They were going to the city so Cole could meet some of her friends and former teaching colleagues—people who’d been part of her life before her police officer husband was killed in the line of duty. “Even though everyone’s been supportive, congratulating her on the engagement, she’s nervous about people meeting husband number two. She debated for hours about inviting her former parents-in-law to the wedding. They sent a gift, but I think she was secretly relieved when they said they couldn’t make it.”
“All this stress over who to invite and where to seat them and what to register for?” Jace shook his head. “If I ever marry, I’m eloping.”
“I don’t know which is less likely,” Will commented, “you getting a woman to agree to spend her life with you or our mother letting you live if you cheat her out of the wedding.”
“Speaking of our mother.” Cole stood. “I promised her I’d be back before the twins’ bedtime. So I guess I’ll take my money and run.”
Once the door had closed behind Cole, Jace straightened in his chair, looking more serious and alert than he’d been all night. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you, but not in front of our brother, the long arm of the law.”
Will frowned. “You planning on committing a crime?”
“It’s about Amy.”
Oh, hell. Will’s stomach sank. He’d befriended twenty-one-year-old Amy Reynolds after her apartment caught fire. She was a sweet kid, juggling three jobs while trying to raise a baby, but her on-again, off-again older boyfriend was bad news. Although local law enforcement had never compiled enough evidence to arrest him, there was talk of the man dealing illegal prescription drugs.
“They suspended Amy at work,” Jace said. “She was strung out the last two nights she waitressed. She claims she’s just jittery after a few sleepless nights with the baby and too much caffeine, but it was obviously more than that. I know the owners don’t want to fire her, but she’s been breaking glasses and screwing up orders. She misplaced a customer’s credit card and spilled a pitcher of margaritas on the mayor’s wife during Ladies’ Night. Do you think she’d listen if you try to talk to her?”
Will shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.” The last time he’d tried to talk to her about the baby’s father and her own well-being, she immediately became defensive. He could only imagine how hard it was for a barely adult woman to raise a baby alone. It was natural that she would turn to the baby’s father for help—but when he broke laws and risked her health? “For her sake, I’ll try.”
“Be persuasive,” Jace advised as he stood. “Use your famous Will Trent charm. It’s practically a superpower. No woman can say no to you.”
Will didn’t bring up the ex-fiancée who’d very effectively said no less than twenty-four hours before their scheduled walk down the aisle, or the cranky neighbor woman who seemed to inexplicably dislike him even though he’d done his best to be likable whenever he saw her. “You sure you shouldn’t talk to Amy? The two of you are closer in age.”
“I don’t know. She had a case of hero worship for you after you helped put out that fire at her apartment complex. If you can’t get through to her...” Despite Jace’s reputation for being glib and irreverent, there was real concern in his voice.
“I’ll talk to her,” Will promised. He wasn’t sure yet how he’d succeed when his last attempt had failed, but it was the right season for Christmas miracles.
“Good, then I guess I’ll be headed out, too. Unless you want some help planning a bachelor party.”
“There’s not going to be a bachelor party. Cole has been very adamant.” He’d cited reasons from upholding the office of local sheriff—hard to keep order if people were whispering about you dancing with a lampshade on your head—to not wanting gossip about strippers to reach the ears of his teenage stepson. Then there was the obvious—Cole was so crazy about Kate that he’d rather spend a free evening with her than scantily clad exotic dancers.
“We could plan one anyway, as a surprise. It doesn’t have to be in Cupid’s Bow. There’s a club in the next county that—”
“Now you’re just being sad. There are ways of seeing women naked without slipping ones and fives into their G-strings.”
“You would know, Romeo.” Jace’s tone was a blend of sarcasm and admiration that only a sibling could achieve.
It was true Will had been dating a lot lately. For weeks after being dumped, he’d kept to himself. Then his dad had gently suggested that Will should look at the broken engagement as an opportunity.
You and Tasha got together when you were freshmen in high school. I know you loved her, but you were following through on a future you planned as a kid. Sow some oats. Find out what Will the man wants out of life. Mark my words, son, this may be a blessing in disguise.
Why not? After all, he was single for the first time in his adult life. He owed it to himself to enjoy it as much as possible.
“I’ll walk you out,” he told his brother. Tomorrow was trash day, and he had bins to roll to the curb. As soon as they stepped onto the porch, Will wished he’d thrown a jacket on over his Cupid’s Bow Fire Department T-shirt. “Temperature’s dropped.”
“Hope it stays cold for the tree lighting this weekend. It never feels as festive when it’s eighty-five degrees outside.”
Will laughed. “That was an unseasonably warm fluke almost ten years ago. You’re just mad Mom made you wear your Christmas sweater anyway.” It sure as hell wasn’t eighty-five degrees now. He hustled down the steps, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.
Jace’s car sat parked in Will’s half of the extra-wide driveway. The driveway he shared with next-door neighbor Megan Rivers began at the street between their mailboxes and eventually split in opposite directions, curving into sidewalks that led to each house. As Jace started his car, Will rounded the house to the wooden enclosure where he kept the trash cans to discourage raccoons and other critters from trying to get past the lids. Arms crossed and head ducked against the wind, he was making the return trip from the curb when he heard wheels bumping over pavement at a rapid clip. He glanced up to find Megan coming toward him. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who’d remembered that garbage and recycling needed to be put out before morning.
He raised his hand in an automatic wave just as a frigid gust sliced across his yard and caught the lid on Megan’s recycling bin, flinging it open. Crumpled plastic bottles and milk jugs scattered on the pavement.
He was already moving toward her as he offered, “Want some help?”
“No. Thank you,” she said tightly.
He scowled. Why on earth wouldn’t she welcome assistance to speed up the process? It was dark out, but he could see she wasn’t wearing much more than a robe over pajamas. Didn’t she want to get back inside where it was warm? “It’s no trouble.” Actually, it was. He wanted to get back inside where it was warm. Valiantly ignoring his own discomfort, he joked, “I’m trying to save my brother the sheriff a trip out here. We have to make sure no one turns you in for littering.”
She smashed a handful of debris back into the bin. “I’ll take my chances.”
Okay. Message received. The stubborn woman could collect her own empty shampoo bottles and juice boxes. As he headed back toward his front door, he found himself glad Jace hadn’t been here to witness that exchange. His brother would have laughed that maybe he’d been wrong about the Famous Will Trent Charm.
Was Megan’s disdain evidence that Will was losing his touch? That would put a damper on his plans for making the most of bachelorhood. Then again, his last dozen dates had found him plenty appealing.
People like me. Megan Rivers was just the inexplicable exception that proved the rule.