Read Online A Very Merry Christmas: WITH "Do You Hear What I Hear" AND "Bah Humbug, Ba by Lori Foster, Janice Maynard, Gemma Bruce - Free Book Online Page A
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energy level.”
“And then I dragged you into my donkey adventure.” She looked up at him with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Actually, returning Magnus to his rightful owners was nice.” The highlight of the day—if he discounted the intimacy he’d shared with her.
He kissed her again, quick and hard, then hauled up her bag. “Let’s go.”
On their way out of the bedroom, she said, “I just need to let the others know where I’ll be.”
That stalled him. Telling her sister was one thing, but, damn Lucius, the apartment building overflowed with busybody women. He didn’t want them all privy to his business. “You’re going to advertise what we’re doing?”
She looked up at him, saw his discomfort, and laughed. Catching him by the front of his shirt, she towed him along.
“I won’t shout it from the rooftops, but all the tenants are close and I don’t want anyone to worry when they don’t see me around.”
“Why would they worry?”
“We’re all single women, so we look out for each other. Now, come on, quit dragging your feet.”
A minute later, Ozzie stood still in the hallway, surrounded by curious female gazes. After the first knock on her next-door neighbor’s door, every other door opened.
Marci said, “I’m going to spend Christmas with Osbourne,” and that started a barrage of questions, accompanied by several skeptical glares in his direction.
A lesser man would have withered under such scrutiny, but Ozzie held tough. When the babbling finally calmed, he said, “Ladies,” and he took Marci’s arm to lead her outside.
It was like walking the gauntlet.
Women of various ages and professions watched them every step of the way, some of them whispering, some laughing, one whistling, and overall acting bawdy and suggestive.
When they were out of sight of prying eyes, he allowed himself to grin. It pleased him that Marci had such close friends. She often seemed so dreamy, that he’d worried about her. But she was obviously very well liked.
“I’ll follow you,” she said, breaking into his thoughts, “since I don’t know where you live.”
“All right, but stay close. And keep your cell phone on. The road crews might not have gotten out yet and the streets could be bad.”
She put a wool-covered finger to his mouth. “I know how to drive in the snow, Osbourne. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
Snowflakes gathered on her nose and lashes again. He shook his head, opened the driver’s door to her blue Dodge Neon, and set her overnight bag on the passenger seat.
Marci got behind the wheel to start the engine and turn on the heat. Ozzie went to his truck, got a windshield scraper, and came back to clean away the ice and snow so she’d have a clear view.
Rather than sit in the car as it warmed, Marci got out with her own scraper and helped. It was a good ten minutes before her car was drivable.
The roads weren’t as bad as he’d feared. They made decent time, all things considered. He drove cautiously, constantly checking on her and at the same time watching for that idiotic reporter. He thought he spotted the van once, but with so much blustering wind and drifting snow, he couldn’t be sure.
The house his grandma had left him sat on an isolated twelve acres, surrounded by woods and overgrown fields. Not since her early days had she done any farming, but she’d been too content with her privacy to sell the land. She hadn’t been rich, except in spirit and love, but she’d never really wanted for anything, either.
When they reached the long driveway, Ozzie pulled over and instructed Marci to precede him. He wanted to make sure no one followed them. She looked at him curiously through the frosty window, but did as he asked. No other cars came into view, so after a few minutes, Ozzie joined her under the sloping carport roof.
In the gray light, the house showed its age. All along the foundation and walkway, dead, brittle weeds and wild shrubs poked up from
“And then I dragged you into my donkey adventure.” She looked up at him with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Actually, returning Magnus to his rightful owners was nice.” The highlight of the day—if he discounted the intimacy he’d shared with her.
He kissed her again, quick and hard, then hauled up her bag. “Let’s go.”
On their way out of the bedroom, she said, “I just need to let the others know where I’ll be.”
That stalled him. Telling her sister was one thing, but, damn Lucius, the apartment building overflowed with busybody women. He didn’t want them all privy to his business. “You’re going to advertise what we’re doing?”
She looked up at him, saw his discomfort, and laughed. Catching him by the front of his shirt, she towed him along.
“I won’t shout it from the rooftops, but all the tenants are close and I don’t want anyone to worry when they don’t see me around.”
“Why would they worry?”
“We’re all single women, so we look out for each other. Now, come on, quit dragging your feet.”
A minute later, Ozzie stood still in the hallway, surrounded by curious female gazes. After the first knock on her next-door neighbor’s door, every other door opened.
Marci said, “I’m going to spend Christmas with Osbourne,” and that started a barrage of questions, accompanied by several skeptical glares in his direction.
A lesser man would have withered under such scrutiny, but Ozzie held tough. When the babbling finally calmed, he said, “Ladies,” and he took Marci’s arm to lead her outside.
It was like walking the gauntlet.
Women of various ages and professions watched them every step of the way, some of them whispering, some laughing, one whistling, and overall acting bawdy and suggestive.
When they were out of sight of prying eyes, he allowed himself to grin. It pleased him that Marci had such close friends. She often seemed so dreamy, that he’d worried about her. But she was obviously very well liked.
“I’ll follow you,” she said, breaking into his thoughts, “since I don’t know where you live.”
“All right, but stay close. And keep your cell phone on. The road crews might not have gotten out yet and the streets could be bad.”
She put a wool-covered finger to his mouth. “I know how to drive in the snow, Osbourne. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
Snowflakes gathered on her nose and lashes again. He shook his head, opened the driver’s door to her blue Dodge Neon, and set her overnight bag on the passenger seat.
Marci got behind the wheel to start the engine and turn on the heat. Ozzie went to his truck, got a windshield scraper, and came back to clean away the ice and snow so she’d have a clear view.
Rather than sit in the car as it warmed, Marci got out with her own scraper and helped. It was a good ten minutes before her car was drivable.
The roads weren’t as bad as he’d feared. They made decent time, all things considered. He drove cautiously, constantly checking on her and at the same time watching for that idiotic reporter. He thought he spotted the van once, but with so much blustering wind and drifting snow, he couldn’t be sure.
The house his grandma had left him sat on an isolated twelve acres, surrounded by woods and overgrown fields. Not since her early days had she done any farming, but she’d been too content with her privacy to sell the land. She hadn’t been rich, except in spirit and love, but she’d never really wanted for anything, either.
When they reached the long driveway, Ozzie pulled over and instructed Marci to precede him. He wanted to make sure no one followed them. She looked at him curiously through the frosty window, but did as he asked. No other cars came into view, so after a few minutes, Ozzie joined her under the sloping carport roof.
In the gray light, the house showed its age. All along the foundation and walkway, dead, brittle weeds and wild shrubs poked up from
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