The Mistletoe Affair Read online

  The Mistletoe Affair

  Judith Gilbert

  "A gripping story about moving beyond loss, grief, and failure. Katherine is a spirited and brave heroine. Her desire to solve her problems without a man's help makes her a memorable character. Hopefully, Jared will change from a love'em and leave'em type guy to a family man before he loses Katherine. That this story occurs at Christmas only adds to the delight…" – Robin Lee for Romance Reviews Today

  Judith Gilbert

  The Mistletoe Affair

  Copyright ©2005 by Judith Gilbert

  Chapter One

  “You know what? How's Santa gonna land without Grandpa's runway lights?” five-year-old Matt asked.

  Katherine Cahill squinted from Friday's midday sun and pointed to the candy-cane lights that hugged the walkways of her mother's Houston home. She did not relish the idea of climbing this roof as she did at their home in Sugar Land. With her fingers crossed, she prayed her son would believe Santa now had adequate lights to land safely.

  His dark eyebrows furrowed. “You gonna put ‘em on the roof so Santa and Rudolph can see real good like Grandpa used to do?"

  Matt's ‘like Grandpa used to do’ brought back a rush of painful memories of the loving father who had lost a long battle to cancer ten months ago. She'd made a promise to look after everyone. Their first Christmas without him would be especially hard for everyone, unless she made it right. She intended to help both Matt and her mother, who recently underwent painful hip surgery, have a wonderful Christmas. That's what Dad would have wanted her to do.

  Staring at the two-story mountain of a house with its steep-pitched roof, she muttered, “Piece a cake.” For Matt, she would attempt anything, and that included continuing her father's tradition of putting lights on the roof.

  She knelt beside her son on the sidewalk and tickled his belly. “Would I let you down?"

  He wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed. “Can I go skate with Jimmy? He's waitin’ for me."

  Katherine nodded. “Grandma's exercising her hip, so be quiet when you go inside for your helmet and kneepads."

  “I will.” His little corduroy-covered legs scampered toward the front porch to grab his gear, and Katherine headed to the garage for her own gear.

  After fumbling through the garage, she placed the extension ladder against the side of the house, crammed icicle light clips in her jeans and climbed to the eave. Stepping onto the shingles, she scaled the roof until she reached the summit.

  She leaned over to attach clips to the eaves, and her feet slipped on several loose shingles. Her breath caught in her throat. She steadied herself and made a mental note to repair them.

  “You need any help up there, ma'am? Mrs. Taylor across the street saw you slip and almost fainted,” said a deep masculine voice from down below.

  Startled, Katherine dropped the clip and landed with a plop onto her butt. Shading her eyes from the sun, she stared toward the house across the street and met the gaze from human eyeballs peeking between blinds. Katherine lifted her hand and waved at Mrs. Taylor.

  Dropping her gaze, she gingerly peered over the edge of the roof, while still trying to defy gravity and stay glued to the shingles. She looked in the direction of the baritone voice and spotted a man in jeans and corduroy shirt staring up at her from the base of the ladder. The pale December sunlight glinted off his hair, highlighting darker, almost-auburn strands amid the blond.

  “I live next door to Mrs. Taylor, ma'am. She called and said she'll never make it to her seventy-fifth birthday if I don't let her know you're okay."

  He lifted his hand and waved to Mrs. Taylor before turning back to Katherine. “Why don't you get your husband to do this, so you don't get hurt?"

  She imagined Paul attempting to hang lights for the first time and chuckled. “Ex-husbands take a dim view of calls to help their ex-wives."

  “You're divorced?” He frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Your mother never mentioned that particular detail. She wanted me to meet her family this Christmas, especially Matt."

  His sharp tone, coupled with the suspicious glances he threw Katherine's way, made her angry. “I bet you're the only man in town my mother's missed feeding that tidbit to."

  A brow shot up. “Is that a fact?” He lifted his chin and stared back like she'd turned into a people eating alien.

  What's with men? They automatically assume every divorcee wants to club them and drag them down the aisle. In her case, the assumption bordered on ludicrous. One two-timing husband had cured her for life.

  “Well, maybe you should hire a man to do this for you,” he said.

  “I don't need one,” she huffed. “Women do a lot of things, including hanging lights."

  He started up the ladder. “I'm Jared Randall by the way, and you must be Katherine."

  Her gaze reluctantly traveled across his broad chest and down his arms. She wondered how often he worked out. He shifted to wrap his palms around the rungs of the ladder, and hard-packed muscles bulged against the thick, ribbed fabric of his red shirt.

  “Yes, I'm Katherine Cahill.” When he stepped onto the roof, she raised her hand palm up to halt his advance, and stared into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. “What do you think you're doing, Mr. Randall?"

  “Call me Jared.” He grinned and the dimple in his right cheek deepened. “Trying to rescue you."

  “Really?” She lifted her chin another inch, even as her attention shifted to his incredible mouth. “I can assure you, I don't need rescuing."

  “Sorry, but I don't agree. I think you need some serious help here."

  “You're crazy,” she snapped back.

  He raised an eyebrow, as he climbed up beside her. “That little statement could be considered libelous."

  She frowned. “Worse than crazy, you're an attorney, right?"

  He sat down beside her on the roof. “Guilty as charged,” he answered, leisurely stretching his long legs in front of him.

  Just what I need, another attorney in my life, especially one two times bigger, and three times more stubborn.

  Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly and scooted away, even more determined to show him she didn't need a man's help.

  “Thanks for your concern, but no thanks. It's okay for you to leave."

  He shook his head. “I'm afraid I can't do that."

  “Why not?"

  “I'm running for City Council. It wouldn't look good if I walked away and you fell."

  “I won't fall.” She nibbled her lower lip. “Honestly, I'm doing fine."

  “Is that a fact? That's not what the evidence says. You almost fell awhile ago.” He patted the asphalt shingles beneath him. “If you don't mind, I'll stay put in case you need me."

  She pursed her lips. “Suit yourself.” Scooting her bottom a long distance from him, she stood and moved further up the roof, daring him to interfere. She continued placing icicle clips on the eaves.

  Half way up one side, her feet suddenly hit another loose shingle and flew out from under her. She landed flat on her back, before she could utter a scream, her body picked up momentum, sliding toward the edge of the roof. As she sailed past him, he flung out his arm, grabbed and caught her.

  She closed her eyes and tried not to notice that his large hand held onto the area of her bra sitting right between her cleavage. Don't let Matt see me like this. The ambulance would have been better.

  Furious, embarrassed, and knowing she could not spend all day suspended like this with her eyes glued shut, she ripped them open and glared into the laughing cobalt eyes watching her. To her utter shame, her nipples hardened into points and her face flushed hot. “Let go of my bra… you manhandling chauvinist."

  “Manhandling chauvin
ist?” His jaw muscles worked fighting a grin. “Well, if that isn't gratitude for you. I'm not the one that fell on her backside and almost rolled off a two-story house."

  She gasped, as her breasts swelled against his palm.

  “Are you in pain?” he asked. “I'm trying not to hurt you."

  Blushing, she shook her head. “Please, let go."

  “Do you know what will happen if I do?"

  At this embarrassing moment, she didn't care what might happen. She prayed he'd drop her.

  He breathed deeply, reached under her arms and pulled her to him. “Upsie Daisy."

  “I'm not Daisy.” Safe again, yet not safe at all, her body lay on top of his in a wicked pose. Her legs hugged his firm thighs.

  Once he relaxed his grip on her, she jerked and rolled to the side of him, her arm sprawled across his waist for safety. With her hip pressed against the hard, grainy shingles, she raised her head and gave him a look that would have withered a saint.

  He rolled his blue eyes. “That does it. I've tried to reason with you, but it isn't working. I don't care if your mother doesn't want you to know she called me, too. She said you have vertigo and have no business on this roof, so I'm carrying you off right now.” Prying her fingers from his belt, he stood and tossed her over his shoulder like a rolled up carpet.

  All the breath rushed from her lungs. Vertigo? I don't have vertigo! Can't this arrogant gorilla see my mother's matchmaking? Why couldn't he mind his own business? What must the neighbors be thinking?

  She remembered where he'd touched her, and her face grew hot. A series of tingles raced up her thighs as his hands held her firmly against him. Why did her traitorous body shame her and respond to his manhandling? Mortified, she kicked her feet.

  “Hold still.” He swatted her wriggling behind. “Stop squirming before we both fall."

  Upside down, she had a close up view of his tight buns as he purposefully strode across the roof and climbed down the ladder. She stared at the compelling sight; her anger mounting with each agile move he made. By the time he touched her feet to the ground, her temper flared out of control.

  She smoothed her shirt, crossed her arms and stared up at him. His six-foot-plus frame dwarfed her five-foot-four body. “I couldn't let you fall, but I'm sorry if I offended you on the roof.” His eyes widened. “Lord, looks like Mrs. Taylor's taking shots of us."

  Shots! Stunned, she spun and a flashbulb exploded in her face, temporarily blinding her. Bright red dots floated like dust moats in her eyes. She knew it-Candid Camera.

  The eyes that had stared at her through the blinds now had a body to go with them. A fragile, white-haired lady with support hose ringing her ankles stood in front of them.

  Jared introduced Katherine to her mother's new neighbor, Mrs. Taylor. “She does articles for our local newsletter,” he explained.

  Katherine imagined a still-frame of her large, round butt, flopped over Jared's beefcake shoulder. Or maybe stills of him spanking her rear-end.

  “Thank goodness Jared stayed on that roof like he promised. I almost fainted, but I got some nice pictures of the rescue.” Mrs. Taylor winked. “Isn't he a sweetheart?"

  Katherine glanced up at him and returned his gaze. “Oh, he's something else all right.” Ha!

  He chuckled.

  “You must be here visitin’ your mama. Once she's completely recovered, I'm writing a human-interest article on her fall and the operation to put a pin in her hip. Tell her I said hello.” Mrs. Taylor shoved her mini-camera into her dress pocket and shuffled along the walkway. “Nice to meet you, Katherine. I gotta get these developed. See ya."

  Jared turned to Katherine and extended his hand.

  “What?” she asked staring at his large open palm.

  “Give me the clips so I can get this done."

  She shook her head in amazement. The man didn't know when to quit. She felt perfectly capable of doing it herself and if she needed help, she certainly wouldn't choose him. “You don't seriously believe I'd do that?” She withdrew the clips and teasingly held them in her hand, waving them like a red flag before a bull. “I do not have vertigo. I'll put the clips and lights up myself and prove it."

  “Uh huh.” He stood there giving her an I-know-you're-lying stare.

  Suddenly, without warning, he yanked the clips from her hand.

  Surprised, she jumped back and bumped the ladder. It slid across the eaves, making a beeline for the ground. Quick as the thunderstorms that sprouted on the Texas skyline, Jared grabbed for the ladder. She spun to help and her elbow collided with his nose, making a muffled thud.

  He grunted, shoved the ladder up against the house and glanced over his shoulder at her.

  She gave him another withering look. Her eyes flew wide, and her stomach churned when her gaze dropped below the level of his sardonic eyes.

  Drops of blood dripped from his nose.

  Her heart pounded. She'd never hurt another human being in her life. “Oh, my God.” Eyes burning with remorse, she lifted her hand and reached toward his face. “Let me help."

  “No, it's okay.” He held her hand still and wiped at the drops with his fingers. “It kind of matches my red shirt.” He winced, stroking her hand with his thumb.

  “I'm so sorry,” she whispered.

  “Relax, it's no big deal. I've had worse injuries on the football field."

  Tears stung her eyes and escaped onto her cheeks. “What's wrong with me? You thought you were helping. Oh, hell, you were helping, but when you said my mother called you, I went postal."

  “What did you do to my Mom?” Matt demanded from the sidewalk. “Mom, did ya sock him? Want me ta sock him, too?” He placed his hands on his hips, stood with his legs in a wide stance and wore a fierce expression.

  Katherine smiled with pride at her pint-size hero. Her gaze dropped further. Her eyes widened, and her face heated from chin to brow with embarrassment.

  There stood her five-year-old son and his friend Jimmy wearing Super Maxi-pads taped to their knees.

  This can't be happening!

  “Neat, huh?” Matt followed her gaze down and grinned. “We couldn't find our kneepads, so we borrowed yours."

  Her hands flew to her hips. “Matthew Everett Cahill, we need to have a serious talk, young man."

  Matt turned his head slightly and looked at Jared. “Uh oh. She used my whole name. I'm in big trouble.” His little eyebrows shot up. “I should a asked to borrow ‘em, right?"

  “From what I know about women, Matt, you'd have been in trouble either way you jumped on this one."

  The trickle of blood from Jared's nose suddenly turned into a small stream. He shoved the back of his hand under his nose and knelt beside Matt. “You want to let me have one of those?"

  Katherine wished an earthquake would erupt underneath her feet, open the ground and swallow her whole. Her jaw sagged, as Matt nodded and extended his knee.

  Jared reached down, took a small knife from his pocket, cut the tape and extracted a Super Maxi-pad. He held it under his nose and paraded down the walk waving over his shoulder.

  Katherine squinted against the afternoon light, peering after him. Was he still smiling?

  “I'll be back soon as I put some ice on this and clean up. Don't you climb that ladder."

  Her surprised squint turned to a scowl. Who the hell did he think he was-John Wayne?

  “Matt, you're my ‘official helper'. Don't let your mom get hurt while I'm gone,” he yelled from the curb.

  Matt grinned. “I'll make her stay off the roof."

  “Too late, I'm about to hit the roof again, this time in anger."

  * * * *

  Twenty-minutes later, Jared returned. Standing on the sidewalk, he looked around for Katherine, but only saw Matt. Jared marveled at how fast Katherine had changed Matt into jeans, a stripped shirt and windbreaker. The boy had Katherine's porcelain complexion and jet-black hair. Jared knelt beside him so they were eye-to-eye. “I wanted to make sure you knew your
mother didn't sock me. She accidentally elbowed me."

  “I know. She told me."

  “Did she spank you?"

  He shook his head. “I get timeout sometimes, but she don't spank me. She said to ask before I borrow. ‘Cause I didn't know I did wrong."

  Not knowing that he'd done wrong never helped Jared as a child. He ruffled Matt's dark hair. Katherine's doing a great job raising Matt. “You believed in your heart your mom faced trouble. You did a brave thing standing up for her against a grownup."

  The boy's grin spread from ear-to-ear. “Mom called me her knight in shining armor-like King Arthur in my storybook."

  Jared thought of the names he'd been called growing up-none of them repeatable in public. He smiled at Matt's infectious grin. “I bet your dad will be proud when he hears it."

  Matt's gaze lowered and his bottom lip stuck out.

  Placing his finger under the boy's small chin, Jared lifted his face and grimaced at the anger and sadness in Matt's eyes. “Okay ‘official helper',” Jared said, clearing his throat, “let's get these lights on the roof and talk about fun things to do this holiday."

  Matt giggled. “What exactly does an ‘official helper’ do?"

  Jared rubbed his chin. “Supervise me. That means you watch me from the ground. Don't let me goof off. If I miss a spot, you yell where it is. You have to yell really loud, can you do that?"

  “Yes, sir,” Matt said, his head bobbing up and down.

  Jared smiled at the serious expression on the boy's face. “How about letting your mother know before we get started?"

  * * * *

  “Mom, I've never felt so embarrassed in all my born days, and to top it off, now I'm sounding like Dad when I swore I'd never use his sayings.” Katherine huffed and couldn't help but hear an extra twang as she ranted.

  Katherine's mother stood at the sink in the kitchen wiping tears of laughter from her eyes with a dishtowel. “And such a long life, too. All thirty-one-years."