Meet Me under the Mistletoe. Julianna MorrisЧитать онлайн книгу.
stuffed rabbit to his chest. He was a miniature version of Alex McKenzie, and warmth spread through Shannon’s heart at the sight of the serious youngster, his blue eyes older and more worried than they should have been.
“It’s okay, son, Mr. Tibbles won’t mind staying behind this time,” Dr. McKenzie urged.
Jeremy shook his head, holding the rabbit tighter.
His father sighed and passed a hand over the boy’s dark brown hair. “All right. Stay here while I get the packages out of the car.”
A few moments later he maneuvered his son and a large stack of boxes toward the front door of the post office. Shannon dashed after them.
“Dr. McKenzie…let me help,” she called.
Alex turned and saw a flame-haired beauty hurrying toward him. There was something familiar about the woman, though he couldn’t place her.
“Excuse me,” he said, “do I know you?”
“I’m Shannon O’Rourke, your neighbor.”
“Oh, right.” Alex remembered the day the previous month when they’d moved into the condo from their apartment. He’d been talking to the movers when a woman had pulled into the next driveway, bundled in a heavy coat, with only her auburn hair visible. She’d waved her hand in a quick hello before rushing inside to escape the rain.
It was warmer today and she was dressed in designer jeans that showed off a pair of long legs, and a cashmere sweater that left no doubt about her slim waist and womanly curves. She exuded confidence and flashed an engaging smile.
One of the packages slipped from his grasp and Shannon caught it. “Let me have some of those,” she said, taking several without waiting for agreement. She stepped around him and looked over her shoulder. “Coming?”
One of his eyebrows shot upward. Shy and retiring obviously weren’t in the woman’s vocabulary.
Alex took Jeremy’s hand.
Everyone said the holidays were especially hard for a spouse who’s lost a partner, but the toughest part for Alex was trying to make things right for his four-year-old son. This would be the first Christmas without his wife. Kim’s death the past January had left a huge hole in their lives. No matter how good it might be, a day-care center couldn’t take the place of a mother like Kim.
The thought of his wife made Alex ache. His friends had called him the most married man they knew, even though he’d spent so much time working out of the country. But they were right. He’d recognized what he had, a sweet, gentle woman who wouldn’t tear him apart the way his parents had torn each other apart. You didn’t find that kind of love twice.
Shannon nudged the door open with her hip and waited for father and son to go ahead of her.
“That’s my job,” Alex said, “opening a door for a lady. But I suppose you’re one of those modern women who don’t believe in that sort of thing.”
Shannon opened her mouth, ready to toss out a smart remark, then hesitated. She’d always believed in being herself, and if a man didn’t like it, then too bad.
But she wasn’t sure what “being herself” was anymore.
She wanted more out of life. She wanted to be in love and married, but lately her love life was practically nonexistent. And now that four of her five brothers were happily wed, the desire to find love such as they had was even stronger. But her life seemed stuck in Neutral, while everyone else’s was Full Speed Ahead.
“I don’t mind,” she said finally. It was true. She didn’t object to men being chivalrous; she’d just learned that waiting for a guy to hold a door could get embarrassing.
“All right.” Alex rested his shoulder against the door to hold it. “I’ve got it, then. Go ahead, Miss O’Rourke.”
He was close enough for her to smell the faint scent of his aftershave, and Shannon’s knees wobbled. That wasn’t good. According to her three sisters, Kelly, Miranda and Kathleen, men with children were complicated, especially when it came to their motives toward women.
She glanced down at Jeremy’s grave face. “Go ’head,” he said, and she melted.
“Thank you,” Shannon murmured.
She glanced swiftly at Alex in her peripheral vision, then walked toward the long line of people waiting for service. Her condominium was in a small bedroom community outside of Seattle, but the post office had the usual holiday crowd. It looked as though they’d be waiting for a while, something she was foolishly happy about.
Lord, she had to be crazy.
For Pete’s sake, he’d called her Miss O’Rourke and said his job was holding the door for a lady. Alex McKenzie was obviously the same breed of old-fashioned guy as the male half of the O’Rourke family. She could spot the type a mile away, and usually ran the opposite direction. She’d dated one in college, only to get her heart broken when he’d dumped her, saying he wanted a homemaker like his mother…something she definitely wasn’t. Her only talent in the kitchen was turning perfectly good food into inedible, blackened messes.
A tug at the hem of her sweater made her look down. It was Jeremy.
“I can help,” he said, pointing at the packages she still carried.
“Oh…all right. May I hold Mr. Tibbles for you? He can sit on top of my purse while we wait.”
Jeremy regarded her for a long moment.
Mr. Tibbles was plainly a very important stuffed rabbit not to be entrusted to just anyone. Shannon crouched so she could be eye-to-eye with the boy. Something about him reminded her of how she’d felt after losing her father when she was a child herself, and her heart throbbed with the old grief.
“I promise to take very good care of him.” She smiled reassuringly.
After what seemed an eternity, Jeremy nodded and traded Mr. Tibbles for two of the packages. She settled the rabbit so its feet were anchored in her purse, and made sure it stayed in full view of its protective human. Only after the exchange had been completed did she see Alex’s stunned expression.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I don’t know how you managed that. I haven’t been able to separate him from that rabbit since his mother died,” Alex said in a low voice. “He only lets go in the bath, and that’s because he says Mr. Tibbles is afraid of the water. You must have a gift with children.”
Shannon swallowed. What she knew about children could be written on the head of a pin. “Um… I like kids,” she said tentatively.
It wasn’t a lie.
Kids were great little people and she would love to have one someday. Her three nieces and one nephew were the most precious things in the world.
Alex’s gaze was fixed on his son who had wandered over to the Christmas tree in the corner. There was so much pain in his eyes that Shannon’s throat tightened. This was a man who’d lost his wife and was trying to raise his child alone. And it was Christmas, a time when absences were felt worse than ever. She remembered what it was like after her father died—nothing had been right, and even now there were moments when emptiness replaced holiday cheer.
“This time of year must be rough,” she said softly.
“His mother made things so special for Christmas,” Alex murmured, his gaze still focused on his son. “She loved baking and doing crafts with him, and fixing things just right. It’s been hard trying to make up for what he’s lost.”
Shannon shifted her feet, feeling torn.
She couldn’t get involved with a man grieving over his wife’s death. It was simply asking for a broken heart. Besides, her relationships never lasted. Old-fashioned or not, the men she continually found herself dating inevitably wanted her to be less modern and more a