Home For Christmas. Carrie Weaver

Home For Christmas - Carrie Weaver


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Shaking her head to clear it, she contemplated the number of failed marriages Beau had put behind him. Three. In her book, that made him nearly as bad as a bigamist.

       Nancy swallowed hard. She’d been there, done that and bought the T-shirt. There was no way in Hades she’d ever get on that merry-go-round again.

      Chapter 3

      Nancy’s stunned expression did nothing to alleviate Beau’s misery. She might as well have made an L with her thumb and forefinger and pressed it to her forehead in the international sign for Loser.

       He liked Nancy. He didn’t want her to think he was some kind of sleazy guy with an inability to commit. Okay, so he had been a sleazy guy with an inability to commit. But that was in the past. “I’ve changed.”

       The disbelief in her eyes told him she’d heard that line before.

       “Really. I turned over a new leaf when Rachel came to live with me.”

       Nancy raised her chin. “It’s none of my business.”

       “Yes, it is your business. You’re supposed to be helping me hang on to my sanity while raising Rachel. The buddy brochure says trust is essential. I need you to trust me.”

       “I’m the wrong woman for the job, Beau. I’m not nearly as trusting as I used to be.”

       Beau’s heart sank at the bitterness in her voice. Someone had hurt her badly. Maybe the way he’d hurt his ex-wives? He rebelled at the idea. Sure, divorce had been difficult each and every time. Well, except for ex-wife number three. They’d gladly parted ways once they’d sobered up enough to realize what they’d done.

       But certainly Laurie and Vivian, ex-wives number one and number two, respectively, hadn’t been scarred for life. Had they?

       Nancy stood. “Beau, this isn’t going to work.”

       Panic propelled him to his feet. “Look, I know I didn’t think this buddy thing would work, but, um, I have to admit you’ve been a lot of help. You understand teenage girls.”

       “Nobody understands teenage girls.”

       “Yeah, well, you do a hell of a lot better than I do. All the buddies have already been assigned. You’ll leave me high and dry if you quit.”

       “Maybe we can trade.”

       “I already asked. No trades.”

       “You tried to trade me?” She braced her hands on her hips. “Why?”

       Beau sighed. Maybe this was one of those times when honesty was the best policy. “No offense, Nancy, but you’re just too damn good-looking. I’ve promised myself no more women. I need to concentrate on Rachel and getting this dad stuff right.”

       Nancy’s lips twitched. She threw her head back and laughed aloud.

       Beau smiled in response.

       But she laughed so long it started to scare him. Had he completely unhinged the woman by being straightforward?

       Finally, she wound down to a chuckle, then stopped altogether. “You’re afraid of me because you’ve sworn off women?”

       He nodded.

       “Oh, that’s too funny. I’m the last woman in the world who’d want to get involved with you, Beau Stanton.”

       That hurt. “What’s so bad about me?”

       “Come on, Beau, get real. You’ve been married not once, not twice, but three times. You’re a slick-talking, woman-loving, son of a gun with a voice that’d melt stone. I’ve seen your kind before. Shoot, I’ve married your kind before. You’re safe with me, buddy.”

       “The husband you, um, wanted to dance on his grave? I remind you of him?”

       “Remind me? You could have given Eric lessons. At least you were smart enough to divorce one wife before you married another. Or am I assuming too much?”

       Beau didn’t know whether to be fascinated by her disclosure or insulted. “Your husband was a bigamist? Really?”

       Nancy sat next to him. “Yes. Really.”

       He whistled under his breath. No wonder she didn’t want another man in her life. It was a damn good thing he had no intention of acting on his attraction to her, because he wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell with a woman like Nancy.

       Extending his hand, Beau said, “We should be safe as buddies then. Deal?”

       She shook his hand. “Deal.”

       Nancy squinted at the alarm clock by her bed. It was almost midnight. Her heart raced. She picked up the receiver. “Mom?”

       “No, it’s Beau.” He sounded frazzled.

       “What’s wrong?”

       “Rachel was caught shoplifting.”

       She rose, instantly alert. “Is she okay?”

       “It’s been a long night. I brought her home about an hour ago. She’s to appear before the judge Monday morning. I’m so wired from coffee, I can’t sleep. And I can’t talk to her because I’m so mad I could wrap my hands around her throat.”

       “You don’t mean that.”

       “Of course I don’t mean that. Oh, I don’t know what I mean. I called her mother. Laurie said Rachel had been rebelling, hanging with the wrong crowd. She hoped the move and having her father around would be a ‘steadying influence.’”

       “You didn’t know Rachel was getting into trouble before?”

       “Laurie and I don’t talk much. I was so stunned when she dropped off Rachel, I didn’t think to ask.”

       “And how about later? After the heat of the moment?”

       “I’m, um, not big on long heart-to-heart conversations with my exes.”

       “Why am I not surprised? It sounds like you could use someone to talk to tonight, though.” Nancy paused to gather her thoughts. “Ana’s sleeping, so I need to stay home. If you’re comfortable leaving Rachel alone right now, you could come over here.”

       “You’re right, I need to talk to a rational adult or I’m going to lose my mind. Rachel’s grounded for life, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to be around me at all tonight. I’ll tell her where I’ll be. She’s got my cell number if she needs me.”

       “I’ll have some nice, relaxing herbal tea ready when you get here.”

       “Herbal tea? Don’t you have anything stronger?”

       “Nope. Take it or leave it.”

       He sighed heavily. “I’m desperate. I’ll take it. Your house is on Evergreen, right?”

       “Yes.” She gave him the house number and hung up the phone.

       Glancing down at her skimpy tank top and flannel boxers, she dashed to the closet and removed a baggy pair of sweatpants and an old sweatshirt of Eric’s. Why she’d kept it, she didn’t know. Maybe because Eric had been such an important part of her life since high school. It still seemed odd at times, knowing she’d never talk to him again.

       Nancy pushed the unsettling thought away and headed to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and ran a brush through her hair.

       The doorbell rang just as she finished.

       She took the stairs two at a time and opened the door. “You must’ve broken a few speed limits to get here this quick.”

       Beau shrugged. “Probably.”

       “You look like hell. Come on in.”

      


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