Julie Kenner – Holiday Hideout: The Thanksgiving Fix / The Christmas Set-Up / The New Year's Deal (страница 7)

He retrieved his coat from the chair in the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. Keep the pizza hot.”

Still, she expected him to say what was so important that he had to take care of it immediately. “Do you have a dog?”

“No.” He headed for the door. “See you soon. My cabin isn’t far.” And then he was gone.

She stared at the closed door for a long time and tried to figure out what was going on. Most men would have come up with some excuse as to why they were leaving, even if they didn’t want to admit the real reason. Maybe he wasn’t good at making excuses, which was actually kind of refreshing.

The timer dinged, telling her the pizza was done. She switched off the oven and hoped the pizza wouldn’t dry out while he was gone. He’d said he’d be right back.

In the meantime, she could work more on her project to embrace her single status. She titled the next section of her notes “Reasons Why I Love Living Alone!!!” Setting down her wineglass, she made a long list. When she got home she’d type it up, print it and frame it to keep her focused.

CHAPTER THREE

NOT THE MOST GRACEFUL EXIT in the world, Mac thought as he drove carefully through the snowstorm to his cabin. He knew Beth had been expecting some sort of explanation, but his reasons for leaving were varied and complicated, and he wasn’t prepared to give Beth any of them, at least not until he’d thought things through.

Although the heater was on, the engine wasn’t warm enough to heat up the cab, which was fine with him. The cold air helped him think, and he needed to think. Because his gut was telling him that, after all these years of dating, all the fix-ups arranged by his parents, he’d just met the woman he was going to marry.

Which was crazy. He didn’t believe in that kind of instant recognition. He’d known her for—he consulted his watch—less than two hours.

Amazingly, that didn’t seem to matter. His strong reaction defied all logic, but the longer he was with her, the more certain he became that she was the one he could build a life with.

And yet that made no sense, considering she was the first woman he’d ever met who seriously didn’t need him. She didn’t need him to make her feel good about herself, and she certainly didn’t need him to take care of her. She might need him in a physical sense, but she’d just finished saying that having sex didn’t necessarily imply a commitment of any kind.

Parking in front of his cabin, he sat in the cab and took a few deep breaths as he tried to rationalize his crazy response to Beth. She was beautiful. True, but he’d dated beautiful women before without having this instinctive connection.

The chemistry was there, but he’d felt chemistry before. Maybe not quite this strong, but close.

He couldn’t remember ever being in such a rush to close the deal and create that ultimate physical connection with a particular woman.

Maybe it was her self-sufficiency. He enjoyed fixing things for his clients, but what a relief to find someone who didn’t expect him to fix anything. Yeah… Much to his surprise, he was drawn to her independent nature.

And, he had to admit, she presented a challenge. Maybe by stating that she was totally uninterested in finding a husband, she’d aroused a need in him to prove her wrong. He hoped to hell that wasn’t true. He took the subject of marriage too seriously to make it into a game.

Not that it mattered now. She probably thought he was a nutcase after he’d blown out of there without an explanation. But he couldn’t exactly blurt out that he’d needed some space to analyze his strong reaction to her.

And he definitely hadn’t been willing to tell her his other, more practical reason for leaving.

Their discussion about sex had been going in one direction—toward the bedroom. If Beth asked him to stay the night, he wanted to be able to say yes, and that meant being prepared.

He could be wrong. She might not ask him…but then again, he had been sent over by Jillian Vickers. Jillian knew him pretty well, and her matchmaking efforts were uncannily on target, so chances were, she knew Beth pretty well, too.

Then he remembered the sociology experiment that Ken and Jillian had going on and groaned. Of course. He and Beth were part of the study. Now, there was a spooky thought. Was everything he was feeling just the cabin mojo screwing with his mind?

No. He’d rather believe in love at first sight than magic cabins. Ken and Jillian were convinced the cabin had saved their marriage, but Mac thought it more likely that all they’d needed was a secluded spot to concentrate on each other. They could have been in the middle of the Sahara or on top of Mount Rushmore.

And their renters were discovering romance in the cabin for the same reason—it created a sense of intimacy.

But that didn’t explain his mind-set. He’d spent time with women in similar cabins, including his own, and never felt this urgent compulsion to bond.

Still, the Vickers’ cabin was a charmer. Whoever had designed it originally had made the front half open and cheery, with the living room and kitchen blending into each other, and the back half cozy and…yes…romantic, with only one bedroom and one bath opening off it.

The king-size bed was massive and rustic. Jillian had found a bedspread made out of soft velour. Mac had run his hand over it once and it felt incredible. For the bathroom, Ken had located an oversize claw-foot tub and Mac had installed it as an anniversary present.

Considering the amenities, not to mention the hot tub on the back porch, Mac could easily see why couples left feeling more loving toward each other than when they’d arrived. He’d mention all that when he explained the experiment to Beth. She deserved to know that they were guinea pigs.

For now, though, he should head over there before she wondered if he’d run off into a ditch. Leaving the engine running, he navigated around the snowdrifts on his front porch and unlocked the front door. Once inside, he walked quickly to the bathroom and took the box of condoms from the cabinet under the sink. He tucked them into his coat pocket and started to leave.

He was nearly out the door when he realized that he’d have to return with something else that would justify his trip home. Arriving at her front door with a box of condoms in hand was just not classy.

So what to take back to her? Wine would be great—if he had any, which he didn’t. A six-pack of beer wouldn’t work if she favored wine. His fruit bowl on the counter held two overripe bananas. They needed to be eaten, but showing up with a couple of brownish bananas didn’t strike the right note.

His refrigerator wasn’t much help. It contained half a loaf of wheat bread, six eggs, an open quart of milk, some leftover microwave lasagna and the beer. He’d deliberately let his food supplies dwindle because his mother always loaded him up with leftovers.

He didn’t have much in his cupboards—crackers that were probably stale by now, a few cans of soup, a can of regular coffee and some boxed macaroni and cheese. None of that cried out Hostess Gift. Instead it cried out Bachelor Who Doesn’t Cook.

He considered making up some story that he’d left his TV or his coffeepot on. But then he could have just said that as he was leaving her place. Instead, he’d dashed out as if his tail was on fire.

Turning on a light in his small living room, he glanced around. Reading material? That would be lame, as if he had to bring along his own entertainment. And then he spied his stack of board games.

She might not care for board games, but he did. He took the combination checkers/chess set and Sorry!, one of his favorites because it wasn’t rocket science. She might think he was a dork for disappearing abruptly and then returning with board games, but he’d brave it out.

The return trip was hairy, and he almost skidded off the pavement twice. Not many vehicles were on the road, which was lucky because at times he needed to go smack down the middle of it. He could see the lights of snowplows down on the main highway, but they wouldn’t get up here tonight.

That meant he could be snowed in all night with Beth, whether they wanted to be that cozy or not. If he’d guessed wrong about her interest in him, he could always take the couch. Maybe he wouldn’t have to tell his mother a little white lie about road conditions, after all.

As he pulled up in front of the Vickers’ cabin, he decided to make that call to his mother before he forgot. Particularly since forgetting was a distinct possibility once he focused on Beth. He got his mother on the first ring.

“Conneach, I’ve been thinking about you. How’s the weather up your way?”

“That’s why I’m calling, Mom. It’s blizzard conditions. I doubt seriously I’ll be able to get out of here tomorrow.”

“Oh, Conneach. What a disappointment.”

Guilt stabbed him, but he wasn’t going to back down after proclaiming to Beth that he was joining her for a feast of independence. “I’m disappointed, too, but I know you don’t want me on the road if it’s dangerous.”

“No, of course I don’t. If anything changes, come on, anyway. We’ll have plenty of food.”