Chapter One
NATALIE SAT BOARD-stiff in the wicker rocking chair on the grand, wrap-around porch. The Christmas lights, twined around the railing and posts like candy-cane stripes, mocked her in their colorful cheerfulness, even unlit. She pictured Calum hanging them while their Grandma directed from this very rocking chair as she sipped peppermint hot chocolate.
When he came by later to visit, he could just unwind them and stick them back in the box. Natalie hadn’t celebrated Christmas in three long years and wasn’t about to start now.
Her hands ached, clenched around the skinny arms of the chair as dark memories threatened her hard-won peace, but she refused to succumb to the flashbacks she’d suffered her first year without Matty.
She’d conquered them, and wasn’t by God going to fall apart just because of the stress of the move. Or the reminder that another Christmas was going to pass without Matty, and now without her beloved grandma.
Her shoulders bunched, her vision dimmed and her bones about rattled as she shook off being sucked into the darkness. Her gaze darted around to see if anyone caught her losing control in public, her eyes closing wearily as she sank back into the chair with a sigh.
When she dragged her eyes open again, she cringed to see one of the movers eyeing her as he walked past. No doubt he wished they could get the furniture moved and escape the prickly wacko spacing out on the porch.
She winced as she pushed to her feet, the fresh pink scar running the length of her right shin a stark reminder of her third surgery in as many years. She’d gone under the knife two months ago and it still pulled and ached.
At least there’s muscle tone again. She stretched her foot carefully to a point, thankful she’d at least kept up with her physical therapy over the years. Not as if Calum would let her skimp on that.
“Why aren’t your Christmas lights on? What’s wrong with your leg?”
Her gaze snapped to the bottom step, and she felt her breath strangle in her throat to see a little cherub perched there, small fists on pudgy hips, accusing eyes fixed on the unlit string of lights.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the almond-shaped, dark-chocolate eyes set in a cute-as-a-button face as the little girl clomped her way up the stairs on short chubby legs. Natalie’s jaw ached from clenching her teeth, her fingers bleached of color as she gripped the porch rail. Her frantic heart tripped over itself like butterflies flitting against her breastbone, frantic to escape.
“I’m not turning them on. I’m taking them down.”
The minute the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. She’d never spoken harshly to a child before and didn’t know why she’d done so now. The little girl didn’t deserve her tone just for asking such an innocent question.
The porch shook as long, muscled legs took the three porch steps in one stride and a muscled arm snaked around the little girl’s middle. Natalie’s eyes jerked up to land on full lips, seamed shut in a hard line slashed across a fallen-angel face with warm toned, tawny skin framed by jet black, curly hair. Her eyes continued their trip up that harshly handsome face, to the sharp gray eyes, narrowed beneath dark brows, pinning her in place. Recognition slammed into her.
He looked just like she’d remembered, whenever she pulled him up in her memories—a throwback to some Aztec God. With his hair just brushing his collar, and his wide-as-a-bow shoulders straining a forest green polo shirt, he could model for the cover of ‘Modern Warrior’, if there was such a magazine.
Her gaze took in his sexy, washboard stomach clearly defined behind the tucked-in polo shirt, and narrow hips showcased in jeans that molded to muscular thighs.
At least ogling this handsome man beat back the last vestiges of her panic attack. It had been years since she’d looked twice at a man—since the last time she’d laid eyes on him—and only hours since she’d thought of this particular man.
The universe was completely screwed up if her libido awakened from its deathbed by her cousin’s angry friend. The man she’d lusted after and thought of far too often since last they’d met.
A man with a child Matty’s age when he was taken from her.
* * * *
ZACH COULDN’T believe his eyes. It had been barely a month since he’d moved to the small coastal town of Beacon Bay, settling into the old Victorian right next door. This house to the right of his, an old painted lady almost identical to his own, had stood empty and lonely the last few weeks, since the sweet old lady who’d lived there passed on.
He and his daughter used to enjoy hanging out with the older woman, his best friend Calum’s grandma, while she played adopted grandma to his little girl. There were always cookies and milk available, along with entertaining conversation.
His buddy had mentioned just last week he’d have a new neighbor soon, however he’d failed to mention it was his cousin. The very woman Zach hadn’t been able to forget since the day he’d met her while visiting Calum in the hospital, where he’d been recovering from a life-altering injury while overseas as Marine Special Forces. He’d hoped for a nice quiet family, with kids his daughter’s age.
Instead, it was a woman who evidently wanted nothing to do with kids—not that he could blame her. He didn’t have the full story, but knew she’d lost her little one years ago and was coping with that loss and subsequent surgeries from injuries sustained that fateful day.
Physically, she was looking better, except for her eyes—still as haunted as when he’d first met her. He could totally understand why, having no clue how a parent could survive the loss of a child with their heart or emotions intact.
Her mahogany hair flowed to her shoulders and framed a pixie face with cheekbones a model would kill for. Hazel didn’t do justice to describe her eyes, gold bits sparkling amidst the green like glitter—her upper lip a sensuous cupid’s bow, fuller than the bottom.
He ruthlessly pushed aside the burgeoning desire to know how it would feel to nibble on that lush fullness. Apparently, he was still as susceptible to her beauty and vulnerability as during the week in the hospital in Germany, watching over Calum.
If the clothes hanging on her slim frame were any sign, she’d lost weight. Some good old-fashioned Southern food would get meat back on her bones. Not that she wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous just the way she was. He shook his head.
What was wrong with him, craving a lip-lock with someone who’d snapped at his little girl, and was apparently still dealing with issues he’d be better off staying as far away from as possible? He bit his tongue against offering sympathy and asking how she was as he snuggled his little sweetie against his shoulder.
“Hi, Natalie,” he said softly. “It’s good to see you again. Cal didn’t mention you were our new neighbor. We’re just next door. This is my daughter, Belle. She loves Christmas and just wants the neighborhood to be pretty. I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you again.” He turned to head back home, but the soft apology spilling from her full mouth had him turning back in surprise.
* * * *
“I’M S-SORRY, Zach—B-Belle. Truly. I didn’t mean…” For the life of her, Natalie couldn’t spit out another word. She’d bottled up too much for far too long, and to see the sympathy in his eyes on the heels of her grandmother’s death, the move from Portland, along with the flash and fancy of the holiday drumming home the missing piece of her life, just did her in. She was on the edge of completely losing it. Of all places—in front of Zach, his child, and the movers—her emotions were going to pick now to fracture?
Her throat tightened as she choked back another sob and spun toward the front door, mortified to see a glint of sympathy in his sharp gaze turn into full on protector-mode. The heat of a broad palm on her shoulder was almost too much to bear.
“Hey, Nat? What can I do to help?” She felt a jolt of surprise to feel the rumble of his deep voice run right through that big warm hand to her shoulder, then on to the very heart of her. It was electric and sent tingles north and south through every nerve ending in her body. What the ever-loving heck was that about? She brutally cut off her reaction, knowing sympathy from this man would be her downfall.
She was a hairbreadth away from losing her composure and had to get into the house before she melted into a puddle of tears. She flung up her hand as the tears won, and with a jerky shake of her head, limped into the house and slammed the door in their faces.
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