Holiday Hideout: The Thanksgiving Fix / The Christmas Set-Up / The New Year's Deal. Jill Shalvis
“To tell the truth, I wouldn’t mind being snowed in. I’m a bit of a workaholic, and a heavy snow would force me to stay away from the hotel for the whole weekend.” She swirled her wine in the glass. “I love my work, but I have a tendency to obsess over it.”
“At least you have an assistant.” He helped himself to another cracker and piece of cheese. “I’m the whole show, and sometimes that means working 24/7. Well, not quite, but it can feel that way.”
“So why don’t you have an assistant?” She had an idea of the answer, but was curious as to whether she was right.
“Damned if I know. I should hire one, but…”
“A good maintenance man is hard to find?”
“I just think I can do the job better than anyone else. I have a bit of an ego, I guess.” He grinned at her.
Her heart rate picked up. That smile of his was killer. “So I’m lucky that you’re not rushing off to repair someone’s broken pipes or faulty light fixture tonight.”
“It could still happen. I’ve notified all my customers that I’ll be in Reno tomorrow at my folks’ house for Thanksgiving dinner, but I’ll be here until morning, and my people know that.” There was a note of pride in his voice.
She thought of his childhood ambition of becoming a superhero. He hadn’t strayed all that far from his dream, after all. “Which is why Jillian Vickers called you.”
He nodded and swallowed a mouthful of wine. “About that.” He glanced over at her. “You should probably know that Jillian loosened that fitting on purpose.”
Beth stared at him. “On purpose? But why would she… Oh, my God.” She started to laugh. “Oh, my God.” She put her wineglass on the end table so she wouldn’t spill on the couch, a real danger because she was shaking with laughter. “That’s hysterical!”
“Care to tell me why?” He sounded a little miffed.
“Because…” She gasped for breath and realized her hilarity might have offended him. “I’m sorry. It’s not hysterical that she’d try to fix me up with you. You’re gorgeous.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say—”
“It’s just that the reason I stayed away from my family’s Thanksgiving celebration in Sacramento is because I knew they’d have a blind date for me there. Then Jillian pulls this trick.” She threw both hands in the air. “I can’t get away from people trying to find me a man!”
He frowned. “And you prefer women?”
“Heavens, no!” She suppressed another fit of giggles. “I like men just fine. But I’m sick of my family trying to marry me off, which is what these blind dates are all about. My three siblings are married, and I, the eldest, am not. Apparently that bugs them.” She wiped her eyes and gazed at him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”
“No need to apologize. Actually, we’re in the same boat.”
She cleared her throat. “How’s that?”
“My mom is determined to find me a wife. In fact, she’s invited someone named Stephanie to dinner tomorrow.”
“Oh, dear. I know exactly how awkward that can be. You have my sympathies. And on top of that, Jillian’s trying to play matchmaker.” She looked at him. “You don’t have to stay, you know. I mean, first I’m dumped on you, and then tomorrow you’ll be dealing with Stephanie. I’ll bet you’d rather spend the night on your own.”
“Actually, it’s comforting to be with somebody who’s stuck with the same problem.” He polished off his wine.
“In that case, would you like a refill?”
“Sounds good.”
“All right, then.” She stood. “Be right back.”
“Do you mind if I stoke up the fire while you do that?”
She paused for a moment to absorb the fact that he’d asked instead of assuming that, as the guy, he had dominion over the fire. Interesting. “That would be very nice. Thank you.”
As she walked back into the living room with the wine bottle, she admired how good he looked tending the fire. She’d never dated a handyman before, and the idea of being with someone who was good with tools had an erotic component that she liked. Still, she couldn’t lose sight of the fact this was a fix-up, and this weekend was supposed to be about putting an end to those.
It helped that he was tired of being fixed up, too, and after all, he’d been inconvenienced by Jillian’s meddling. She glanced at the nearly empty cheese-and-crackers plate, and her natural tendency to be hospitable kicked in. He was a big guy, and big guys usually had appetites to match.
She refilled his wineglass. “I have a large frozen pizza I was going to cook for dinner. Want to share it with me?”
He looked up, fire tongs in one hand. “I hate to eat your stash of food.”
“Don’t worry. I brought plenty. I’m planning a single girl’s version of Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow— Cornish game hen, sweet potatoes and some other veggies. I’ll have leftovers to take me through the rest of the weekend.”
After positioning another log on the fire, he replaced the screen and stood. “Pizza sounds great.”
She set the wine bottle on the end table next to his glass. “Then I’ll go pop it in the oven.”
Mac followed her into the small kitchen area. “Matter of fact, your whole plan sounds great. I envy you having the guts to tell your family you weren’t going to play their silly game.”
“If I can’t do it now that I’m thirty, when can I?” She opened the freezer, took out the boxed pizza and opened it.
“You’re a very young-looking thirty, Beth.”
“You didn’t have to say that, but thanks.” She appreciated a man who knew how to give a well-placed compliment. She’d decided not to be paranoid about being thirty, but it didn’t hurt to have someone claim she didn’t look it.
“I’m thirty-one, and I haven’t been that bold. Then again, my mom keeps reminding me I’m the ‘hope of the McFarlands.’”
She turned to him. “You’re what?”
He leaned against the counter—six feet and a couple of inches of heart-stopping masculinity. He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, which stretched the material over his package. “If my father’s line is to be continued, I’m the only one to do it.”
A sudden image of how he would do it crossed her mind, and she resisted the urge to fan herself. “You’re an only child?”
“I have a younger sister, but in my father’s world-view, the son is the only one who can carry on the family name. According to my mother, my dad lives for the thought of me fathering a son.”
“I see.” She wondered if he had any idea how sexy he looked standing there talking about doing his familial duty. “Sounds sort of medieval.”
“I absolutely agree. And I’ve said that, but it doesn’t seem to make any impression.”
“At least I don’t have that kind of pressure. My two brothers and my sister are providing the next generation of Tierneys.” She ripped the plastic off the pizza. “Do you happen to know if there’s a pizza pan anywhere?”
“There should be.” He started opening doors. “I seem to remember seeing one when Jillian unloaded cabinets so I could refinish them. Yeah, here it is.” He pulled a large flat pan from a bottom cupboard.
She took the pan from him and deposited the frozen pizza on it. “You refinished the cabinets?”
“Last