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Jared wore black denim, a rich-chocolate shirt and smelled of mint soap from washing up. Katherine didn't touch the broad hands he extended. His long, thick fingers made her thoughts turn to distinctly unwelcomed ideas. She studied them with reluctant interest. At least on his hands his skin had a tan. A fleeting thought of where else he might be tanned made her blush and pronounce them clean.
He regarded her with amusement and whispered, “Chicken,” before he moved aside for Matt to have his turn.
She glanced to the side. Her mother winked at Katherine and patted the chair, motioning for Matt to sit beside her. Jared remained standing around the table, looking down at her with that dark, arched brow and the hint of a roguish smile.
Where were her manners? Katherine leapt from her chair and offered Jared a seat, sloshed some coffee into a cup and shoved it in front of him. He reached out, she pushed it forward, wanting to keep distance between them, and the cup toppled over.
It spilled across the table. Katherine stared at the spreading mess. Jared's eyes were reflected back at her in the creamy brown pool of coffee. Eyes she could drown in. She turned, grabbed paper towels, wadded them up and sopped up the puddle. Tossing the wet mess in the trashcan, she turned, topped his cup again and handed everyone napkins. Anything to keep her clumsy hands occupied.
Jared held his cup close to his chest, as if protecting it. He frowned every once in a while like she represented the plague moving in his direction. How could she blame him? She'd suddenly turned into the biggest butter-fingered klutz in Texas.
“Help yourself to some cookies,” she said.
Jared reached out to the plate piled with still-warm cookies and removed his unsettling gaze from her. She breathed a sigh of relief. From the gallon container, she poured Matt a glass of milk, set it in front of him and smiled when he helped himself to three of the largest cookies.
“She baked these,” her mother said, smiling at Jared. “They have raisins and coconut. Matt loves them."
Katherine rolled her eyes, silently pleading. Please. No matchmaking.
Jared picked out a plump, juicy raisin, rolled it between his fingers and plopped it into his mouth, before he took a bite of the cookie. “These taste even better than they smell."
Everyone nibbled on cookies, except Matt. He inhaled one and came up for air, looking expectantly at Katherine. “You know what?"
She almost spilled her coffee and Jared gave her the plague look again. Oh, no. Please. Not, “You know what?” Say anything but “You know what?” Last time Matt said that, she climbed a ladder, almost fell off a two-story roof and bloodied Jared's nose. She held her breath.
“What?” Jared asked, taking another bite of cookie.
“We gotta get a Christmas tree.” Matt held his hands up as high as they could reach. “A real big one. For big presents."
Katherine exhaled slowly, relieved. Surely she could handle getting a tree for Matt. What could possibly go wrong?
She thought about the toys hidden in the closet, none that came fully assembled. She convinced herself that men did this to get even with women. First, the instructions were written for mechanical engineers. Second, parts were always left when she finished and she'd have to start all over to figure out exactly where those parts belonged. She did not look forward to putting Matt's toys together at all.
Jared glanced at her. “You want to go this afternoon around five and get a tree, or do you have something else planned?” he asked in a casual tone, never taking his eyes off her.
Going anywhere with him spelled trouble. Maybe he thought because she was divorced, and he assumed she had been celibate for a long time she was an easy lay, like the women he dated. But, he couldn't know she'd stayed celibate. She gazed at him and bit her lower lip. Could he? I mean a thing like not having sex for a very long time, that doesn't show, does it?
“We can manage. Thank you.” She lifted her chin so he'd get her message.
Jared sipped his coffee, watching her intensely over the rim. “You're doing it again."
“Doing what?"
“Reading something into my actions that I never intended, like when I stopped your fall and accidentally grabbed your you-know-whats."
Katherine gasped. She choked on her cookie and gulped down a stream of hot coffee, fighting for air.
Her mother placed the back of her hand over her mouth, hiding a fit of laughter.
Matt turned and beat between Katherine's shoulder blades. He repeated what he'd heard her say for years when he swallowed wrong. “Did that cookie have a bone in it?"
She wiped at the water filling her eyes. “Yes, it did, but you made it better.” She coughed again. “Thanks, Matt."
Jared leaned toward her. “Are you all right? Your face is really flushed. How about more coffee?"
She shook her head and whispered, “I'm fine. Really."
He fell silent a few seconds before suggesting, “If this afternoon's not convenient, I'd be willing to change it to some other day."
I'll bet you are. “We wouldn't dream of making you change your plans. We'll be fine without your help."
“Dear.” Her mother turned toward her with a dreamy, far-away look Katherine recognized immediately. That twinkle in her eyes meant one thing. Matchmaking. “What Jared's offering sounds like a good idea. How are you going to fit a tree into that small car of yours?"
Katherine didn't want any part of what Jared might be offering-especially with his ‘bad-boy’ reputation. “Other families manage and we will, too."
Jared pursed his lips. “I don't think you can manage the tree by yourself.” Lifting his hands, he moved them upward. “Matt wants a big tree. You'll need a truck like mine to get it home."
“You have a truck!” Matt said to Jared. Her son turned toward her with excitement dancing in his eyes. “Mom, I'd love to ride in his truck, can we?"
“Maybe we can ride in it some other time.” She straightened her shoulders and glared at Jared.
He rolled his eyes. “I'm picking mine up today. Katherine might as well come along and let Matt select his tree."
Her mother nodded. “I still think that's a wonderful idea, Katherine. It'll be fun to let Matt ride in a truck."
Everyone was against her. Katherine breathed deeply and nodded, surprised at the flash of male triumph that flitted across Jared's face.
“While you're gone, I'll do my exercises again. When you come back we can finish the plans for our tree-trimming party.” Her mother turned to Matt. “Would you like a party?"
He clapped his hands. “Yes, ma'am, just like when Grandpa lived here.” Matt looked at Jared. “He's in heaven, but he sees us."
Katherine's heart squeezed tight in her chest. It had already been ten months. When would the knee-jerk reaction stop?
Tears glistened in her mother's eyes. “That's right, Matt, and we're going to have a good time this Christmas for him. You go with them this afternoon and get that special tree you want for Grandpa."
Katherine slumped in her chair.
What is Jared-the lonely divorcee welcome wagon?
Five o'clock, right on time. Jared Randall watched Katherine stroll from the house. She bent over to zip up Matt's coat. Jared stifled a groan when her rounded jean-clad bottom bobbed temptingly in the air. Secured with a clip in the back, strands of her long black hair escaped and fluttered in the breeze.
He opened the passenger door and stepped back to let them in. She propelled Matt like a missile onto the middle seat and jumped in behind him. Jared shut her door and climbed in his side, wondering why she was so prickly about this.
Before he started the pickup, he glanced over. Katherine zipped her jacket part of the way up and hugged the truck door. If she got any closer, she'd plop out onto the pavement for sure. She half-turned and started to buckle Matt's seat belt, however Jared beat her to it. “I got it. Relax."
He turned on the radio, and they listened to Matt attempting to sing Christmas carols for several miles. The temperature during the day stayed at sixty degrees, but it dropped to forty at night. He wished the weather would turn cold, so it would seem more like Christmas. Houston weather differed from hometown New York, where he'd spent years practicing law. Everything was different, which is why he'd moved here in the first place. Nice people. Quiet lives. His engagement to Shannon had proved even he was different. He'd thought he had found someone to love him back. Someone to share his dreams, build a future with. He clenched his jaw. He'd been wrong. Since then, if he wanted sex, willing women were easy to find and even easier to leave and forget.
He glanced over again at the icy beauty. Her rosy cheek appeared practically pasted to the window. He looked back at the road with a silent grunt. She could sit on the roof for all he cared. She didn't have anything to worry about from him. The last thing he wanted was to get mixed up with her. Hell, he liked his women to at least be approachable. But she sure made the scenery more beautiful with those rich jade eyes, ebony hair and silky, smooth skin-not to mention those lush, sweet curves. If she knew how much he enjoyed touching her body, she would brain him with a rolling pin.
Now that the singing from between them had stopped, he glanced down at the source of small snoring sounds. Matt snuggled deeper onto his arm. A warm feeling of tenderness filled Jared's chest. The little boy reminded Jared of himself as a child with the broken family and absent father. Matt was resting his eyes until they got there, as Jared used to put it.
Katherine glanced over at him and Matt, clutched her shoulder bag tighter to her chest, turned her head and stared out the window. The look she threw Jared reminded him of a rattler about to strike.
He glanced down at Matt again and straightened his coat, remembering once again how he stood up for his mom today. How could a man leave a boy like Matt? More incredulous, how could his father not see his son every chance he got? He ground his back teeth together. What if Matt's father was like his-never gave a damn about his son?
Turning his head, he glanced at Katherine, wondering why she'd gotten divorced. As an attorney, he'd seen some flimsy excuses. Were her excuses flimsy? That thought brought him up short. Whatever the reasons, they were certainly none of his business. Don't even go there, he warned himself.
“You sure are quiet over there,” he said. “You fall out that door and I'll have to administer mouth-to-mouth.” He chuckled when she scooted across the leather away from the door.
He'd never seen anyone so jittery around a man. Did she dislike all men, or just him? She must have a problem. He liked his women a little calmer and a whole lot more sure of themselves sexually. No pretending about what they wanted. No shyness about being a woman. They articulated loud and clear their desire for a man to take them to bed.
He glanced at Katherine again. No, sir, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he would make a fool of himself over her. She wasn't his type.
“But, I want this one,” Matt said, standing in the tree lot.
Katherine stared at the beautiful, gigantic, silvery-blue tree. Her father always bought traditional green ones that smelled like evergreen. She bent, lifted the branches of the Arizona Cypress and sniffed, enjoying the same sharp, pungent evergreen scent that brought back so many happy memories. But the idea of not holding to the traditional past bothered her.
A gentle breeze drifted through the tree-lot tent, carrying with it the smells of pine, woodchips from trimming the base of the trees, and cedar. She moved to stand beside a twin to this tree only vivid green instead of silvery-blue. “How about this one?” she coaxed.
Matt crossed his arms.
Jared rounded the corner. His boots crunched as he walked on the pea gravel covering the ground. “I've loaded mine into the truck. I thought I'd come and see if you need any help.” He slowed his steps, stopped in front of them and glanced quizzically from Matt to Katherine. “What's going on?"
“We need help,” Matt said.
“We don't need help,” she corrected.
Jared directed his attention to Matt. He hunkered down next to him. “What's the problem, pal?"
Matt reached to touch his tree and attempted to hug the branches. “I want this one. But Mom wants that one.” He pointed to the mate to his tree, decked in its natural greenery.
Jared stood up and scratched his head. He stared at Katherine. “I don't get it. It's the same tree only one's green and the other has been flocked with a dab of white. Both are beautiful, full and healthy."
Of all the nerve, she could swear he smirked at her. She decided to tell him to mind his own business when he turned to look at Matt.
“Tell you what.” He put his hand on Matt's shoulder. “Why don't we let your mom explain why you can't have the tree you have your heart set on?"
They both turned to face her and suddenly she felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas.
“My dad always-.” She gulped and stared at their blank-faced responses, fighting tears of loss and frustration. “I think we should uphold-."
How did she explain sentiment, wanting-no needing everything to stay the same? How did she explain that she refused to admit her father had died? If she could keep everything the same, he would still be there. A part of him… Her eyes burned with tears, but she kept them at bay.
A man like Jared wouldn't understand her feelings of loneliness, and she didn't want Matt aware of her grief. She looked at Matt's hopeful expression and came to a mother's decision. It would make her feel better to keep everything the same. But she wouldn't risk spoiling Matt's Christmas.
What would her father have done if she'd wanted that Arizona Cypress? She looked at the sky, feeling his approval. Damn right-he'd have moved heaven and earth to give it to her.
Katherine knelt beside her son. She tickled his belly. “Would I ever let you down?"
Matt's laughter said she'd made the right decision.
She giggled at the sound of his happiness. “I changed my mind. Load the silvery-blue tree for me and Matt, please."
As they walked back to the truck, she rationalized her decision over again. After all, one small change isn't much of a concession. Everything else is the same. And she intended to keep it that way this Christmas.
Jared offered her a devastating smile as he shoved the tree into the bed of the truck.
He bent, lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “You made Matt happy. I suspect you sacrificed something back there to make that happen."
Her stomach fluttered as his warm breath caressed her neck. She stepped away from him and shrugged. “That's what moms do."
Jared hooked his hands in his coat pockets and frowned. His eyes clouded with sadness. “Not all moms."
His jaw clenched, and Katherine saw something vulnerable behind the sardonic strength she'd seen so far. Caught up in what she saw, but could not understand, she lifted her hand to touch him. What am I doing? She snatched it back to her side, making a fist.
She didn't need another man messing up her life or Matt's-especially a man like Jared Randall.
At seven-thirty, Jared turned into her mother's driveway, parked and killed the lights. Katherine and Matt walked to the back of the truck and waited for Jared to finish a conversation he'd received on his cell phone during their ride home.
Katherine didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she found it impossible not to from where she stood. He flirted outrageously, and from the tone of his voice, he seemed very familiar with whoever spoke on the other end. Ever so often, he chuckled deep in his throat. The intimate sounds made gooseflesh ripple up Katherine's arms. He finally asked, “Can't you sleep?” and laughed wickedly at the caller's response. “Yeah, I'll deliver that sleeping pill quick as I'm through here. Don't you start without me.” He hung up and tossed the phone onto the seat. Katherine recognized the unwanted pangs of longing that jabbed at her. Since the divorce, she missed having this kind of interaction with a man.
He sauntered around to the rear bumper and bent at the waist. Metal clanged while he lowered the tailgate. The move defined his well-developed shoulders and broad back.
When he tugged on the trunk of the tree, she stepped forward. “Let me help."
Jared turned to face her, rubbed his nose with his hand and grimaced. “With your track record?” He crooked his little finger and motioned Matt forward. “I think I'm safer with my ‘official helper'."
For some reason she didn't understand, his remark hurt, and she flinched as if he'd hit her.
He put his hand under her chin, tilted her head up, looked deep into her eyes and whispered, “Hey, I was joking. Matt's proud of his tree. He wants to help me carry it.” He winked. “Why don't you find the stand for this monster?"
She opened the wrought-iron gate that lead to the house, continuing up the walkway. The toe of her boot accidentally kicked the old, battered rocker on the porch. She muttered at the semi-darkness and dim porch light. The cluttered little porch grew deadly in the dark, and she felt grateful her mother left the light on for them. But she wondered why she hadn't turned on the Christmas lights.
Her fingers brushed the prickly leaves of the holly wreath hanging over the oak door. These little touches made her feel warm and happy. She hoped things would never change. The temperature had dropped since this afternoon. She hugged her jacket against the brisk night air. It felt like Christmas. Shivering, she jammed the key into the lock and wrestled with the heavy door, opening it wide enough for the tree.
Propping the door open, she walked through the entryway and shrugged out of her jacket. Inside the darkened living room, she found her mother slumped in a chair. “I thought you were going to exercise."
She flipped the lamp switch on. Her mother raised her hand to cover her eyes. Moving closer, she noticed her mother's eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying.
Katherine rushed to her side and knelt. “Is your bionic part hurting you?” she whispered, touching her mother's thick, baby-soft hair.
Her mother struggled to smile. “No. In two weeks, I'll be back on the golf course, good as new."
“Okay, what's wrong, Mom?"
“I'm moody, like an old lady right now, and I can't blame it on hormones anymore."
Katherine didn't buy that for one minute. She wanted to cheer her mother up. When they were alone, they could talk about the problem really bothering her. She leaned forward with a smile. “Matt found his tree. But, I wanted to warn you, it's not the traditional green Dad always bought, so I don't know if you'll like it."
Sitting up, her mother wiped her eyes. “Nonsense, if my grandson picked it, I'll love it."
Katherine nodded-that's exactly what Dad would have said-and rose from her knees.
“Are they right behind you?” her mother asked.
“Oh, my God!” Katherine said. She turned on her heels toward the nearby hallway.
“Where are you running to?"
She glanced back over her shoulder. “To get the stand and Christmas boxes from the attic. If we're going to finish planning that tree-trimming party, we better take an inventory of what works and doesn't work. I only want to make one trip to the mall tomorrow for decorations."
Racing to the hall, she grabbed the rope hanging down from the trap door and yanked hard. The extension ladder groaned to life. It fell with a thud from the attic onto the carpet. She took two steps up the incline and in her hurry, stumbled. Her knee banged into the side, jamming the sharp wooden edge into her shin. With a shrill cry, she crumpled onto the step, holding her knee to her chest and rubbing it.
Jared's voice called from the arched doorway, “Are you all right?"
She tried to place her full weight on her knee and winced. “I'm fine."
He crossed the hall in three steps and joined her on the ladder. “You aren't fine. You have no business climbing."
Wiggling her leg around, she winced again. “It's just sore."
His arms went over hers. He propelled her back to the carpet, speaking in her ear the whole way, whispering the most infuriating things in the most sensual rumble. She trembled from the jolt of heat his touch generated.
“Your mother's had enough grief. She doesn't need you hurting yourself."
She thought of her father's three years of illness, the trips home to nurse him and help her mother cope with his impending death, the merciful end that released him from his pain, and finally, the scare from her mother's accident and emergency surgery. A twinge of guilt, along with a rush of resentment hit her. The man didn't know the first thing about love and loss. “Where do you get off talking to me like that? I'm trying to help my mother."
“I know you are, but stop taking chances that might get you hurt."
Marching up the ladder, he disappeared in the attic and returned with two large boxes marked ‘Christmas Decorations'. He deposited them on the carpet, went back and retrieved three more. “That's all,” he said, laying the last one down.
Katherine stared at the pile glumly. So much for her traditional Christmas. It was not tradition to have a stranger get her son's Christmas tree, or have him climb into the attic and retrieve Dad's Christmas boxes, and it was definitely not tradition for her body to hum with desire like this. She kept her distance from him as they carried the dusty boxes into the living room.
Her mother stood at the window ooh'ing and aah'ing over the unusual tree. Matt sat beside her on the floor lapping up the praise his grandma lavished on him.
They rummaged through the boxes until they located the stand. She placed it in front of the picture window and turned. Her gaze lowered to Jared's tight rear end and thick, muscular thighs as they bent and carefully lifted the huge tree. Straightening, he turned and his gaze locked with Katherine's. Self-conscious at having him catch her staring, she took a quick uneven breath.
His eyes shone with unmistakable male interest, moving his gaze over her body sensually. He lowered the tree effortlessly into the slot. She quickly bent to tighten the bolts, but she could still feel his hot gaze on her.
They stood in silence, admiring the majesty of the most beautiful tree she'd ever seen grace their living room. The white of the tree, against the backdrop of the royal blue draperies framing the window took on a life of its own.
Looking at Matt, Katherine grinned. “Why don't we turn on the Christmas lights and go outside to watch them?"
Matt made a beeline for the front door, while Katherine flipped the switch. They stepped outside to a white wonderland that blinked and sparkled like warm tidings of cheer in the night, illuminating the walks and outlining the house.
“Wow! Santa's flashing runway."
Katherine felt everything would be fine this Christmas. A sweet smile and serenity filled her mother's eyes and face when the lights twinkled. She hugged her mother, bent and ruffled Matt's dark hair.
“Jared, how about some dinner after that hard work?” her mother asked.
Katherine's head popped up. Dinner?
Her face heated.
Hell. What is he-a permanent houseguest?