They stood there for a heartbeat that felt like a lifetime, staring at each other

When was the last time he’d impulsively kissed a woman? This had been thoroughly spontaneous, and he was glad. If he’d stopped to think first, he might not have done it.

Adam cleared his throat. “I’ll round up my kids.”

Brenna nodded, bemused.

Neither of them said anything else, but when he got to the back door, he couldn’t resist looking over his shoulder at her. She remained in the same spot, motionless. Except that she’d pressed her fingers to her lips.

As he stepped through the door, a whisper of sound followed him.

He thought it might have been wow.

Dear Reader,

I grew up surrounded by a lot of happy chaos—relatives visiting, friends in and out of the house and pets underfoot. (At one point we owned three dogs, two cats and a ferret, all of whom played together.) An adult now with kids of my own, I am definitely carrying on the chaotic tradition.

In Mistletoe Mommy I bring that tradition to Mistletoe, Georgia. Brenna Pierce is a pet sitter who thinks the biggest complication in her life is a broken-down car—until Dr. Adam Varner and his three children roll into town for summer vacation! Trying to get her self-owned business up and running, Brenna doesn’t have time for romance. And Adam certainly isn’t looking for a relationship. He already has his hands full trying to bond with a teenage son, surly “tween” daughter and a little girl obsessed with getting a cat for her fifth birthday. Yet, amid the chaos of animals and kids, Brenna and Adam discover love and something that feels remarkably like family.

This is my third book in the 4 SEASONS IN MISTLETOE miniseries, and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I’ve loved writing them! Watch for the series conclusion, Mistletoe Hero, in October 2009.

Wishing you only the happiest chaos,

Tanya

Mistletoe Mommy

Tanya Michaels

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tanya Michaels began telling stories almost as soon as she could talk…and started stealing her mom’s Harlequin romances less than a decade later. In 2003 Tanya was thrilled to have her first book, a romantic comedy, published by Harlequin Books. Since then, Tanya has sold nearly twenty books and is a two-time recipient of the Booksellers’ Best Award as well as a finalist for the Holt Medallion, National Readers’ Choice Award and Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® Award. Tanya lives in Georgia with her husband, two preschoolers and an unpredictable cat, but you can visit Tanya online at www.tanyamichaels.com.

This book is dedicated to the caring and

hardworking ladies of

Koala T. Care Pet Sitting and Dog Walking.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

The day Brenna Pierce was having would be enough to drive any woman crazy. Which, in Brenna’s case, would actually be an improvement, because at least she would be driving somewhere.

Instead, she paced alongside a curvy stretch of blacktop in the pounding late-June heat. Her stepfather had raised her to believe that swearing was vulgar, but now, sweaty and exasperated, Brenna mentally chanted a stream of four-letter words, running them together in an all-purpose Über-Curse. Coincidentally, loan was a four-letter word—and something she might have to apply for soon.

She’d been praying her ancient hatchback would make it through this summer, but the faded green car appeared to be on its last legs. Er, tires.

Her cell phone wasn’t currently working, either. No bars here. Maybe she’d unintentionally discovered Mistletoe, Georgia’s answer to the Bermuda Triangle, a magnolia-lined stretch of asphalt where all things mechanical sputtered and died. Investigating scientists could name it the Brenna Straightaway.

To find a patch with better reception, she’d climbed out of the car. Her pacing hadn’t netted any results yet, but she couldn’t cover more than a few yards without taking along the vehicle’s occupant, Lady Evelyn. Wiping damp strands of coppery hair away from her face, Brenna glanced through the open window. Lady Evelyn, a Yorkshire terrier, sat in the back seat wearing her safety restraint harness as imperiously as though it were crown jewels. The Yorkie glared, unamused by first the lack of air-conditioning—fixing the A/C would cost more than the car was worth—and now the unscheduled stop.

At least Brenna had managed to almost coast to the shoulder. Though the vehicle wasn’t as out of the way as she would have liked, it also wasn’t in the middle of the road.

Reaching inside, she patted her canine companion on the head. “What do you say, Evelyn? Wanna get out and help me push?”

Beneath the pink bow holding up silky hair, the dog’s dark eyes seemed incredulous. Surely you jest. I’m a prizewinning purebred. I have ribbons. I don’t do manual labor.

Hearing doggie voices in her head couldn’t possibly be a good sign. I have got to get out of the heat. Even more importantly, Brenna had to reach Patch by three-thirty. Four o’clock at the latest.

Brenna grabbed the leash from the front seat. “Come on,” she said, unfastening Lady Evelyn’s safety harness. “Let’s go for a walk.”

If they were lucky, she’d get cell reception just up the road and reach someone who could drop everything to come give them a ride. Preferably someone with air-conditioning. They hadn’t gone far when a car came barreling over the hill. Brenna waved her arm.

As she squinted against the sunlight, she made out the people inside the oncoming vehicle: Rachel and David Waide. For a minute she didn’t think they were going to stop—odd, since the popular Mistletoe couple could usually be counted on to help anyone—but then David swerved to a haphazard halt just past her parked lemon. She scooped up Lady Evelyn and jogged toward the Waides.

David rolled down the window, his handsome face surprisingly pale in spite of a summer tan. “Brenna! Are you okay? We’re just on our way to take Dr. McDermott to the hospital.”

From the passenger seat, his very pregnant wife leaned over with a grin. “He means we’re on our way to meet Dr. McDermott. My water—Oh!”

David swung back to Rachel. “I lost track of how far apart they are. I’m supposed to be keeping track!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rachel gasped. “Just drive.”

He turned to Brenna. “If you need a lift, hop in, but we have to go straight to the hospital. Rach is in labor!”

Brenna nodded, hiding a smile. “I got that. You two run along.” They obviously didn’t have time to take her to Patch and were going in the opposite direction from where she needed to be.

David eased off the brake, the car beginning to roll as he asked, “What about you?”

Maybe he could call someone for her on his way? The Waide family owned a supply store not too far from here. Perhaps one of his siblings, Arianne or Tanner, could come get her. She hadn’t been planning to call them, but it would be easiest for David to dial a number he already had programmed into his phone.

“Could you—” She broke off at the sound of another automobile approaching. “Never mind. You take care of your wife. I’ll get help from the next Good Samaritan.”

Not waiting to be told twice, David pulled away.

“Good luck,” Brenna called after them. Then she focused on the brown SUV coming into view, gesturing with her free hand.

The car slowed and veered off the road. She saw two males in the front—one considerably younger than the other—and tops of heads that indicated shorter passengers in the back. She recognized neither the vehicle nor the inhabitants.

Still carrying the Yorkshire terrier, hardly an armful at five and a half pounds, Brenna neared the driver’s side. A dark-haired man rolled down his window. She’d never passed him in town; he was someone she would have remembered. His face was perhaps the most geometrically perfect she’d ever seen—symmetrical features, strong jaw, straight nose, well-defined cheekbones and eyes so dark their color was unfathomable. On a blindingly bright day like this one, they made her think of cool, shaded pools.

Brenna gave a quick shake of her head, such poetic thoughts unlike her. Definitely been in the sun too long.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Brenna Pierce. You’re not from Mistletoe, are you?”

“No, just vacationing here.” His deep voice was a touch rueful.

An adolescent female from the back seat piped up with, “You mean we’ve finally made it to Mistletoe? It feels like we’ve been driving around for days,” she added on a whine.

The boy, who shared the driver’s features but in a blocky, awkward, not-yet-grown-into way, whirled around. “Maybe if you girls didn’t have to stop every five minutes, Dad could have paid better attention to the map.”

“Well, if boys weren’t too stubborn to admit when they’re lost—”

An excited, high-pitched voice interrupted. “Doggie! Daddy, can I pet the doggie?”

As three children chorused various questions and complaints, the man driving the SUV asked Brenna, “So did you need some help, ma’am?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Wincing as the noise level from inside the SUV escalated, she found herself thinking, But who’s gonna help you?

Chapter Two

Dr. Adam Varner squelched the urge to throw himself out of his car and beg for mercy from the stranger. Even though he’d assured Sara that he’d have no trouble with the kids—I’m their father, for pity’s sake, I spend nearly every day in an operating room, how hard can this be?—he’d realized in the last hundred miles that parenting was far more difficult than he remembered.

What the heck had happened to Morgan, the apple-cheeked infant? Eliza, aka Daddy’s Girl? Or Geoff, the doting son who’d wanted to be just like his father? Now they were a soon-to-be kindergartener, a sullen preteen and a teen obsessed with cars and girls. Admittedly those were probably normal interests for a fifteen-year-old, but Adam had to keep reminding himself that the kid was no longer content with a skateboard-scooter.

Amid Morgan’s inquiries of “are we almost there?” and Geoff’s insistence that he was hungry again, even though he’d had lunch a couple of hours ago and wiped out the stash of snacks inside the SUV, Adam had been switching through satellite radio stations and suggesting car games in a desperate search for a distraction. He certainly hadn’t expected roadside diversion in the form of a tall redhead and her rag mop of a dog.

Adam had grown up with a German shepherd and a black Lab. The piece of fluff Brenna Pierce held looked like it would lose a street fight to a gerbil. Even though he knew nothing about her, somehow the immaculately groomed lapdog looked all wrong for her. Brenna’s tan suggested lots of outdoor activity, as did her footgear—instead of strappy summer sandals, she wore a pair of blue-and-silver hiking shoes. She needed a sturdy dog that could keep up with her. And if she was single, maybe something big enough to growl at intruders.

Was she single? he wondered absently.

He opened his door, unfastening his seat belt with the other hand. “I take it that’s your car?”

She shot the green hatchback a glare of pure loathing. “Yeah, it’s mine.”

“Did it overheat?” He hazarded a guess, reasoning that even an igloo could overheat in weather like this. The air around them was sticky, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to see the tar-based road beneath their feet come to a boil.

“The gauge didn’t show any signs of overheating, but who knows? Gauge could be busted. Just about everything else is.”

Already unbuckling his own seat belt, Geoff asked, “Can I come take a look, too?”

As much time as the teen spent reading car magazines these days, he probably knew more about automotive mechanics than his father. Adam was used to working with his hands, but in surgery not in garages. “Sure. But stay off to the side of the road. Your mother would kill me if you wandered into traffic on my watch.”

This elicited a snort from Eliza, a formerly delightful child who seemed to have developed a personality disorder moments after blowing out the twelve candles on her last birthday cake. “Traffic? We’re in the backwoods of nowhere. They probably only get one car a day on this road.”

Brenna cocked her head to the side, smiling at his daughter through the open door. “Actually, someone passed by less than five minutes ago.”

At an apparent loss for a response, Eliza merely twisted a strand of her long hair and looked away. It was such a change from the constant sniping that Adam wanted to cheer. Instead, he asked Brenna, “The people ahead of us didn’t stop for you?” That didn’t bode well for the friendly small town he’d been promised in the tourism literature.

“They paused briefly, but were on the way to the county hospital. The passenger was in labor,” she explained, stepping aside to let Geoff pass, “so I told them I’d try to flag down the next car. I heard you coming by then and was hoping you’d be someone I knew. But—” She stopped, checking her watch. The leather band was covered with paw-print cutouts. Her hair, styled in a short, elegant bob, was tucked behind her ears, revealing matching silver paw-print studs.

“Problem?” Adam asked as she scowled.

“Time crunch. Would I sound too melodramatic if I said it was a life-or-death situation?”

“That’s my specialty,” he assured her wryly. Had he even introduced himself? Being trapped in the SUV with the kids had robbed him of his adult people skills. “I’m Dr. Adam Varner, cardiac surgeon from Knoxville. My children and I are staying in Mistletoe until just after July fourth.”

“At least two and a half weeks? Wish I could get my clients to go away for that long,” she murmured, more to herself than him. “Then I could replace the lemon.”

“Clients?”

“I’m a local pet-sitter, owner of More than Puppy Love. I take care of other people’s animals. Like Lady Evelyn here. And Patch, a diabetic cat. His owner is in Savannah on business. I have to make sure Patch gets his daily insulin shots on time.”

“Someone keeps a pet even though they have to give it shots every day?” Eliza asked, climbing out from the back seat. Adam should have known that if he let one kid out, the others would follow. Just as well—they probably needed to stretch their legs. “Sounds like a lot of trouble.”

“It’s not ideal,” Brenna said, “but most of my clients consider their pets family members. You go the extra mile for someone you love.”

Though Adam couldn’t see his daughter’s expression behind him, he felt her accusing stare boring holes into his skull. Was she thinking of the instances he hadn’t made enough time for his own loved ones? He sighed, trying to be patient. It was true that he’d been overwhelmed by the demands of residency at the hospital and hadn’t been the husband and father Sara and the kids had deserved. But Sara had just remarried, happily moving on with her life, and Adam was doing his level best to reconnect with his kids. By the end of the summer, they’d see that.

I hope.

“Daddy doesn’t like pets.” This was from curly-haired Morgan, not her terminally ticked-off older sister.

“That’s not true.” He turned, defending himself in a mild tone. “I grew up with animals. I’ve always liked animals.”

“But you wouldn’t get a dog for your place,” Eliza said. “Which would have been the perfect solution since we can’t have one at our house!”

Our house—the house he’d bought right after Sara discovered she was pregnant with Morgan. Sara had asked him to move out just before their youngest daughter’s first birthday. Watching his wife—ex-wife—marry someone else last weekend had been something of a wake-up call. An entirely new household was forming under his erstwhile roof; he was more determined than ever to make up for lost time. He never again wanted to feel as if he’d blinked and missed entire chunks of his children’s lives.

“Daddy Dan’s allergic to dogs,” Morgan informed Brenna, creeping forward with a hand outstretched to the Yorkie.

With effort, Adam managed not to flinch at the “Daddy Dan.” After all, Sara’s new husband had earned the moniker. He’d been there for Eliza’s dance recital when Adam’s patient had encountered postsurgical complications. Adam had tried to make the most of watching her ballet solo with her on tape afterward, but she hadn’t been mollified. Dan had also been there when Morgan got the chicken pox, sitting up with her at night to reapply calamine lotion and distract her from her misery. He was a good guy.

Pushing away an immature stab of resentment, Adam reminded Eliza, “I didn’t want to get a dog, because it wouldn’t be fair. I’m not home enough to take care of it and give it the companionship it deserves.”

“Right. You’re always at the hospital,” his daughter agreed. She flounced off to join her brother by Brenna’s car, not giving him much chance to respond.

He shot an embarrassed look at Brenna. Unaware of his past missteps with his daughter and the latitude he was trying to give her now, Brenna must think Eliza was a demon child and that he was the world’s most ineffectual parent. The redhead wasn’t looking at him, however.

Instead, she busied herself with showing Morgan how “Lady Evelyn” liked to be petted. Not for a minute did he believe Brenna had missed the tense exchange, but he was grateful she was pretending not to notice.

“I have my cell phone in the SUV,” he told her. “We can call someone for you. Or we can give you a ride, if that will get you to the cat faster.”

Brenna set down the dog but held on to the leash, not that the pooch seemed motivated to escape Morgan’s adoration. “We can try your phone, but reception in this particular spot is lousy. I would have called someone by now if I could get a signal. And I really do need to reach Patch.”

“We’re happy to take you,” he reiterated.

She bit her lip. “Well, I wouldn’t normally…”

Come to think of it, was he setting a terrible example picking up a stranger? He’d make sure the kids understood later that this was a rare exception. In her khaki shorts and navy-striped tank top, both of which revealed long, well-toned limbs, he couldn’t imagine where Brenna would conceal any weapons. Since he outweighed her by probably forty or fifty pounds, he was confident he could take her physically—a random thought that somehow got all turned around in his mind and heightened his awareness of the golden expanse of dewy skin.

Luckily Brenna, who was looking around at his kids, was oblivious.

She turned to him with the beginnings of a smile. “You don’t exactly seem like an escaped convict.”

He pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket and handed her his Tennessee driver’s license. “I’m an upstanding citizen, I swear. The only thing scary about me is my association with—” he affected a shudder “—teenagers. They’re not for the faint of heart.”

She laughed, a warm, husky sound. Pleasure tightened inside him, and he reminded himself that a responsible single father didn’t get lust-stricken on the side of a dusty road over a total stranger with his three kids standing right there. His sole purpose in Mistletoe was to focus on rebuilding his relationships with his children. He had only a few weeks to make up for the past few years. There was no room for distractions.

Brenna pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it back with his license. “I once helped take care of a ball python, so I should be able to brave teenagers.”

“It’s settled, then,” Adam said. “We’ll take you to give Patch his injection and to figure out what to do about your car once the medical crisis has passed.”

She hesitated only a heartbeat before nodding. “Let me grab Lady E’s bag out of my car and make sure the doors are unlocked. With any luck, some enterprising thief will figure out a way to get it running and steal it.”

BRENNA WAS ACCUSTOMED to odd “herds.” She’d once worked for a family who owned a domesticated pig, two hermit crabs and a ferret. And she was no stranger to unusual human clans, having been raised by a man with no biological ties to her and a woman who would have been well within her right to resent the heck out of her presence. So despite Dr. Adam Varner’s alternately mortified and apologetic glances during their drive into Mistletoe town proper, she was mostly undaunted by his children’s antics.

The littlest Varner, with her mop of unruly honey-gold curls and light eyes, looked the least like her father and was also the least inhibited. Brenna would have expected such a small child to be shy, but Morgan chattered constantly. She was the one who volunteered that they were on “vay-cay-tion,” pronouncing the word with emphatic concentration, “because Mama and Daddy Dan wanted alone time to kiss. Last week I saw Geoff kissing his girlfriend on our couch!”

“Morgan!” Her brother’s voice cracked on the second syllable. He leaned forward, poking his head between the front seats. “Please excuse my sister. She’s too young to understand adult matters.”

Brenna managed to keep a straight face as she nodded, but his sister Eliza didn’t bother hiding her derisive snort.

“Adult?” She chortled. “You just turned fifteen. You can’t even get a driver’s license until your next birthday.”

“I have my learner’s permit,” he said stiffly, “and I’m a lot more—”

“Kids,” Adam interjected warningly, “can’t we—”

“—grown up than you,” Geoff finished. “You cry half the time for no reason at all. Even Morgan doesn’t—”

“That’s enough,” Adam said, this time hitting the palm of his hand on the steering wheel for emphasis. “I don’t want to hear another word for the rest of the ride. Does everyone understand?”

Eliza, who was either fearless or harbored a death wish, muttered, “Are we allowed to answer that?”

Despite herself, Brenna was fascinated by the ill-mannered girl. Brenna herself had possessed more reason for anger than most adolescents, yet she’d remained unnaturally well behaved. It had taken her years to shake the terror that her stepfather and his new wife—who was actually his old wife, long story—might decide they didn’t want her.

After all, Brenna’s own mother hadn’t kept her, not only leaving her husband, Fred Pierce, but leaving Brenna behind in Mistletoe. Brenna hadn’t known whether to feel betrayed or relieved.

“Sorry about all this,” Adam said to Brenna.

“No worries. You’re doing me the favor,” she reminded him.

He jerked his head back, indicating the three now-quiet passengers behind them. “I would say they fight like cats and dogs, but cats and dogs probably get along better.”

Her lips twitched as she thought of her own two pets, a wickedly smart border-collie mix and a cat who thought she was a dog. They were the best of friends.

“Their mother, Sara, assures me sibling rivalry is natural, so I’ll take her word for it. I’m an only child myself,” Adam told her, no trace of conflict in his voice when he mentioned the ex who’d remarried. “You have any brothers or sisters?”

“A younger stepbrother, but we never fought.” She said it automatically, regretting that she’d added it. It would only make Adam feel more conscious of his own brood, which was a lousy way to repay him for taking the time to help her.

To fill the embarrassed silence, she gave directions and commentary on the town. “Up here at the corner, we’ll turn left to get to Patch’s house. If you make a right on that same road, you can follow the signs to Kerrigan Farms. It’s a great place. They have a Fourth of July barbecue and blueberry picking all year round, as well as hayrides. We’re also just a couple of blocks from the Dixieland Diner. They have phenomenal food.”

“Food,” Geoff moaned, his apparent starvation prompting him to break the not-a-word edict.

Brenna impulsively turned to Adam. “After I take care of Patch and drop Lady E at home, would you let me buy you an early dinner?” He was going out of his way to help her, and being indebted to anyone else left her squirmy and anxious. “Please? It’s the least I can do for you guys.”

Geoff let out a whoop of delight, which his father quickly overruled.

“I can’t let you pay for the four of us,” Adam objected. “Especially since one of us, who shall remain nameless, eats like a horse.”

“But…” She trailed off as common sense reasserted itself. Aside from her almost pathological need to repay him, it was probably for the best if they didn’t have dinner together.

She had a ton of phone messages to catch up on this evening and invoices to type into her computer. This was supposed to be the summer when she worked as many long hours as humanly possible so that she was solvent by fall, when schools were back in session and her customers’ travel plans slowed down. Buying dinner for large families she didn’t know was not in her meager budget.

“Wait,” she said, suddenly realizing where they were, “that’s Martine Street! We’re supposed to hook a left here.”

He immediately obliged.

“Thanks. Sorry about the short notice.” She was already fishing through the lockbox she’d retrieved from her car for the key to the client’s house. “Patch lives in the big blue two-story at the bottom of the hill. I promise not to take too long.” Next stop, Lady Evelyn’s house. The Yorkie’s owners would be back from Florida tonight. They hadn’t wanted the pampered dog to miss her standing appointment at the groomer, so Brenna had taken her.

Adam parked the SUV at the curb. “Does your offer of dinner with us hold even if I don’t let you pay? We’d love the chance to hear more about the town, wouldn’t we, kids?”

“Yes!” Geoff agreed vehemently.

Brenna got the impression that Adam’s son would agree to anything that led to getting fed. She hesitated, thinking of everything she needed to get done at her home office. Then again, how could she refuse when dinner had been her idea in the first place?

“I’ll let you pick up the tip,” Adam said, adding under his voice, “I’m not sure I’m ready to be left alone with these three again. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She laughed. “All right,” she agreed as she climbed out of the car.

Even though he’d had a joking tone, she believed him when he said he wasn’t ready to be alone with the kids. Though he was an intelligent, funny man—and a surgeon, for pity’s sake, which indicated a high level of capability—he did seem a bit awkward with his own children. Parenting just didn’t come naturally to some.

Brenna knew that better than anyone.

Chapter Three

Bracing himself, Adam prepared to lay down the law if the kids resumed their bickering now that Brenna had disappeared into the blue house. But Morgan seemed content telling Lady Evelyn how cute she was, and Eliza had her eyes closed and gave every appearance of napping. Geoff, in contrast, was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Way to go, Dad! She’s a babe.”

Adam choked. “Geoffrey, that’s not an appropriate way for you to discuss Ms. Pierce.”

“Oh, but—” his son looked more bemused than chastised “—didn’t you see her?”

What was more disturbing? That the kid who’d thought girls were gross a few years ago was now scoping out older women, or that Adam wholeheartedly agreed with the fifteen-year-old’s assessment?

“I saw her. And she is attractive,” he admitted in a vast understatement. “You need to show more respect, though.”

“Sorry,” Geoff mumbled. “I just wanted to be, you know, supportive. Do you ever date?”

Rarely. His job occupied most of his waking hours, and more than once he’d sat up in bed realizing he’d been going through a case or procedure in his sleep.

“Are we gonna have two mommies like we have two daddies?” Morgan asked.

“What?” Adam spun in his seat so that he could better face his children. “No, pumpkin. Of course not. I only met Ms. Pierce a few minutes ago.”

“But Geoff said you might date. Mama and Daddy Dan used to date and now they’re married.” She concluded her observation with a nod, agreeing with her own logic.

“That’s true, but—”

“If we get more parents, do we get more presents?” Morgan wanted to know.

She was turning five at the end of next week, so birthday presents were uppermost in her mind. Sara and Dan had hosted an early party for her, not wanting her big day to be eclipsed by their recent mid-June wedding. Sara had told Adam it was up to him to figure out a way to celebrate the actual day on vacation. She wouldn’t even advise him what gift to get, as she had for most previous birthdays and Christmases.

“It should be from you,” she’d insisted gently.

“How about just a hint?” he’d wheedled. She’d laughed but hadn’t answered. Some of Morgan’s interests were obvious, of course. She loved pink and she loved animals, but he had no idea what toys she already owned, or if certain brands of adorable puppy figurines were preferable to others.

Before Adam could repeat that no one was getting additional parents anytime soon, Eliza straightened, opening her eyes just enough to glare at him. Naturally.

“Dad is not here to date,” she informed her siblings. “Mom promised this trip would be all about him spending time with us. Right?” She hurled the one-word question at Adam like a shot put.

Underneath the hostility was so much vulnerability that Adam wanted to scramble over the seat and hug her.

As if she’d let you. This was one prickly kid. He couldn’t help wondering if Sara had shielded him from this, sighing and taking care of the preteen’s attitude, instead of calling to yell at him for the monster he’d created. Had she talked to the kids before he came over last Thanksgiving, admonishing them to be on their best behavior? Or had Eliza simply bottled all this up, saving it for the right target? Not having any brothers or sisters himself, he couldn’t determine whether being the middle child was truly the most difficult family position, but it seemed accurate in Eliza’s case.

Morgan had been so young when he and Sara split up that she didn’t clearly remember a time they’d been married. Geoff had been old enough to understand how critical Adam’s job was, that sometimes it really was a matter of life or death, and he’d been coming into more independent years, so he hadn’t been as bothered by Adam’s absences. At least, that was the mature stance he projected; Adam had let himself buy into it because it was comforting. But Eliza…She’d fallen somewhere in between, and the divorce had wounded her badly.

“This trip is definitely about you kids,” he vowed. “I’ve never taken this much time off work before, and—”

“We’re so sorry to have messed up your schedule,” she snapped.

He’d said what he had to make her feel important, not to complain about being inconvenienced. What would Sara do? He couldn’t imagine his ex-wife allowing Eliza to be a brat. Then again, Sara had never done anything to earn such legitimate enmity. Was Adam reaping what he deserved? Regardless, this wasn’t the tone he wanted to set for the rest of their stay in Mistletoe, nor was it the behavioral example he wanted to set for Morgan.

“Eliza, I have to ask you to watch your tone,” he said. Her eyebrows shot up, her dark eyes firing sparks at him, but he pressed bravely forward. “I understand you’re angry—”

“You don’t understand me! You don’t even know me!”

“I’m trying to,” he said firmly.

She met his gaze, but said nothing further. Finally she looked out the window. Was it his overly hopeful imagination, or had a tiny bit of tension drained from her slim body? At least she seemed to be thinking about what he’d said, instead of firing back a rejoinder about how they were just fine without him. Small steps.

After all, no one walked into an operating room their first day of med school and performed a cardiopulmonary bypass. There were lessons that had to be learned, techniques that had to be perfected. He didn’t delude himself that he would ever be a perfect father, but surely, with practice, he could do better than this. Half the time she gave the hostile impression that she would take out a contract hit on him if only her allowance were high enough.

Figuring he’d done what he could to pacify one daughter for the moment, he turned to the other. Morgan had watched the exchange with increasingly wide eyes.

He reached between the seats, awkwardly patting her on the knee. “You okay, pumpkin?”

“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “Just hungry.”

“We’ll eat right after we take the dog home,” Adam promised.

Geoff beamed at him. “I got so wigged-out the first time I asked Gina for a date that I thought I was gonna blow chow. Without even trying, you got a girl to invite you to dinner and she offered to pay. Awesome.”

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, at least one of my kids thinks I’m doing something right.

AS ADAM NAVIGATED the crowded parking lot outside the Dixieland Diner, Brenna dialed Quinn Keller’s number. The two women had been casual acquaintances for years, but recently they’d become closer friends. Quinn lived in a duplex, two adjoining homes that shared a front and backyard. The other half belonged to Dylan Echols, who’d surprised his widowed mother with a maltipoo puppy on Mother’s Day. But he’d been thoughtful enough to first work with Brenna for a few weeks to get the dog housebroken and trained to obey basic commands. Quinn, a teacher at White-berry Elementary, had watched the pup’s progress from her front porch and even helped with a few lessons.

As the two women got to know each other, they’d discussed Quinn working part-time for Brenna once business was more established. Brenna wanted to grow her customer base for financial reasons and job security, but even with the number of clients she already had, she was hard-pressed to handle the volume of summer and holiday visits—the same times of the year that Quinn had off from teaching—by herself. If Quinn would answer her phone now, she could even ride with Brenna on a few jobs tonight as preliminary training.

Unfortunately Brenna only reached a mechanical voice telling her to leave a message. She knew Adam would take her home if she asked but she’d already imposed and didn’t want to take the Varners farther out of their way after their long day on the road. So call Fred or Josh. No biggie. It shouldn’t be a “biggie.” After all, she’d been part of their family for nearly twenty years.

But she’d been conditioned for the formative first thirteen years of her life not to get too attached, that she didn’t truly belong anywhere.

Would she have overcome that neurosis if Fred, her stepfather, hadn’t remarried Josh’s mother, Maggie? That woman had been the true love of Fred Pierce’s life, but in their first marriage they’d grown apart over time and divorced. He’d hastily rebounded with Brenna’s mother, only to have her slink off in the middle of the night for parts unknown. Though Brenna had never asked, she’d often wondered if his emotional response to being abandoned had mirrored hers—equal parts betrayal and relief.

About a year later, Maggie had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, still at an early stage. The medical crisis had shaken Fred enough that he’d started courting her again. Josh had what all children-of-divorce secretly dreamed of—his parents back together, his family a healed whole.

With Brenna as the fly in the ointment. Awkward.

Ancient history, she told herself. She’d risen above her unorthodox upbringing, loved the entire Pierce family; she was a productive member of society. Whose previous boyfriend dumped you because you relate better to animals than people.

Funny, he hadn’t seemed to mind that about her when he’d hired her; her last serious boyfriend was also the town veterinarian. She’d enjoyed working in the clinic, but had always known that she wouldn’t be working as his receptionist/critter referee forever. Their breakup nearly two years ago had helped motivate her to get her small business off the ground.

Adam parked the car, and Brenna snapped her cell phone closed. Now that she’d taken care of Patch, nothing else in her evening was time-sensitive. No doubt she’d see at least a dozen people she knew inside. She’d try to reach Josh, but if he wasn’t home, either, she was sure she could get a lift from someone. Maybe even someone who owned a pet and would be amenable to trading a favor in exchange for future discounts.

Geoff didn’t wait for his dad to remove the keys from the ignition before bounding out of the vehicle. His sister, the moody one, took her time.

“This is the home of phenomenal food?” she asked skeptically. “Doesn’t look like much.”

Brenna slanted a reproving glance over her shoulder. “Friendly word of warning—don’t diss the Diner within earshot of any Mistletoe natives. They’ll run you out of town.”

The girl pursed her lips as if she wasn’t entirely certain Brenna was kidding—which she only half was. Folks around these parts took the Diner pretty seriously. The mayor’s son proposed to his fiancée here over a shared dessert of gooey, sweet pecan pie.

“I’m not that hungry,” Eliza finally said.

Brenna rolled her eyes inwardly; she was tempted to call the sky blue just to see what color the contrary girl would argue it was. “You may not be hungry yet, but you will be.” No one, not even a rebellious preteen in the throes of a snit, could resist the smells inside.

As they strolled up the sidewalk, Brenna enumerated the local favorites on the dinner menu. After the past forty minutes of detailing great food and Mistletoe summer activities, she felt as if Belle Fulton from the Chamber of Commerce might pop up any moment to offer her a job. And Brenna was uniquely qualified to tell the Varners about the Chattavista Lodge on the outskirts of town, where they’d be staying, because her stepbrother worked there.

Josh had always been a big fan of the outdoors. In the year between her mom’s defection and Maggie’s illness, Brenna had lied shamelessly to Josh and Fred about her supposed love for fishing and camping, desperate to fit into the testosterone-driven household. She’d wanted to be the Perfect Daughter. Eliza’s polar opposite. If Fred had told Brenna the sky was taupe with chartreuse polka dots, she would have agreed just to ingratiate herself with the Pierces.

These days, Brenna could appreciate the fresh air her occupation provided, but she hadn’t voluntarily slept on the ground in decades. Josh had been seeing the same girl for two months, and Brenna teased him that if he wanted to keep her, he’d make sure any romantic getaways included indoor plumbing. Not that Brenna had teased him recently—she was currently dodging him. Now that Josh was happily in love, a newfound convert to committed relationships, he seemed gung-ho on setting up Brenna with every eligible bachelor between here and Atlanta. His girlfriend, Natalie Young, was just as bad. Of course, she was also the local florist, so she considered flourishing romances good for business.

The Diner hostess warned that there would be a short wait while someone cleaned off a table. Brenna tried reaching her stepbrother but got his voice mail, then started to call Arianne Waide but realized that, with her sister-in-law, Rachel, having a baby, Ari was probably at the hospital with the rest of the family. Brenna dialed Quinn again and left a message for her to call whenever she could. If nothing else, some local firemen she knew had just walked in and Brenna could bum a ride from them.

Considering the crowd, they were seated pretty quickly. Dinner rush at the Diner started a few minutes before five and lasted well into the night. The hostess showed them to a booth, and Morgan slid in first, followed by her father. Geoff sat opposite them and Brenna chose to sit next to the boy rather than his thoroughly attractive dad. Eliza surprised her by practically leaping in after her, sandwiching Brenna. She didn’t get a strong sense that Eliza liked her, but the girl must really dislike the idea of sitting with Adam.

Had he actually done something to bring on her wrath, or was Eliza just one of those clichéd mutinous adolescents?

Fifteen minutes later, after the waitress delivered a round of lemonades and took their orders, Brenna thought she was getting a clearer picture of why the girl was so hostile. When Adam tried to draw Eliza into a discussion by asking if she would play soccer again this coming fall, the girl snorted. Brenna wondered if anyone had ever pointed out how unattractive that particular habit was.

“I haven’t played soccer in two years,” Eliza said, her tone reading duh but her expression telegraphing genuine hurt. “I play volleyball now. Mom said only two activities so that my grades don’t slip, and I picked volleyball and dance.”

Adam visibly cringed. “Right. I’m sorry I forgot that.”

Seated on the girl’s left, Brenna barely caught her muttered, “Like you even knew in the first place.” Adam engaged his son in less-charged conversation about what kind of car he wanted to save up for, but then made an apparent misstep when Geoff mentioned that he couldn’t wait to take his girlfriend out on an honest-to-goodness car date.

Managing not to look too nervous about that prospect, Adam asked, “So how did you and Deana meet?”

Geoff shook his head, sighing loudly, and Brenna assumed that the boy was embarrassed to have his love life be the topic of dinner conversation. But Morgan tugged on the side of Adam’s shirt.

“Daddy, it’s Gina,” she said, her little face pinched with worry. As if she feared his mistake might create even more tension. “Remember?”

Though the situations probably had nothing in common, something in the girl’s voice made Brenna flash to her own past, the careful way she’d had to treat her mother. How she’d hesitantly vacillated between reminding her mom that no, they were no longer in Lexington, they’d moved on to Tennessee, and not wanting to say anything that might set her off. As an adult looking back, Brenna suspected her mother had suffered from some sort of bipolar disorder and hoped that, wherever the woman was now, she’d sought help. But as a child, Brenna had never known what to think about her mother’s moods and their nomadic lifestyle. Brenna had spent more than a decade walking on eggshells—the unpleasant habit had stayed with her far longer than her mother had.

Morgan, on the other hand, showed few signs of emotional scarring and had already bounced back from her moment of concern. She was chanting, “Geoff and Gina. Gina and Geoff. They both start with Gs that think they’re Js. I can spell my name! Who wants to hear?”

By the time their food arrived, Morgan had spelled out her siblings’ names, as well as her own and the words cat, fox and Dan.

“Wonderful job,” Brenna praised her.

“I start kindergarten next year,” Morgan said. “And Liza’s teaching me to read.”

Eliza ducked her head closer to her plate of cheddar garlic mashed potatoes as if embarrassed to be caught doing something nice for her kid sister.

“Kindergarten?” Brenna echoed. “That must make you, what, eleven years old?”

Morgan giggled. “Four! But I’m almost five.”

Adam ruffled her hair fondly, looking more relaxed than he had since he’d first pulled over for Brenna. She imagined that sitting in front of a plate of pot roast beat the heck out of interminable hours cooped up in a car with antsy kids. “That’s right,” he said. “We’ll have to search Mistletoe for the perfect way to celebrate your birthday next Thursday.”

Eliza’s fork hit the edge of her plate with a clatter. “Friday! Her birthday is Friday. Don’t you even know that?”

Adam flushed darkly. “I know exactly when each one of you was born. Morgan’s birthday is June twenty-sixth.”

“That’s Friday,” Eliza said, less forcefully.

“Oh.” Her father leaned back against the vinyl bench. “I was just confused about my days.”

His oldest daughter nodded, while his younger daughter looked on apprehensively. Geoff continued to shovel in food at warp speed, sparing absolutely no attention for the people around him.

“I promise,” Adam added. “I know every one of your birthdays. June twenty-sixth. February tenth. November third. You’re the most important people in my life.”

Brenna was moved by the declaration but also vaguely uncomfortable at being present for it. She was barely at ease with open sentiment in her own family, much less a stranger’s. She focused on her fried-chicken salad with all the intensity of a grad student taking a final, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adam reach across the table for Eliza’s hand. And saw the girl reflexively jerk away.

Ouch.

Eliza shoved her plate to the side. She waited a beat before asking, “Can I go play air hockey? Geoff can go with me.”

The boy had emptied his plate, stopping just short of licking it clean.

Reluctantly Adam nodded. “I guess. You need quarters?”

“No. Mom gave me money.”

There was some shuffling as Brenna stood so that the two adolescents could get out of the booth.

“Can I go, too?” Morgan implored. “I wanna watch.”

“Don’t you want to finish your cheeseburger?” Adam asked.

“Nuh-uh. My tummy feels funny.”

“All right. But I’ll save it for later in case you change your mind.” His expression was nakedly poignant as he watched his children walk away. Whatever his shortcomings, he adored those three. Brenna hoped for his sake that he found a way to convince them of that in the next few weeks.

With a sigh, Adam looked at Brenna. “You must think I’m the worst parent in the world.”

“Far from it. Trust me.”

“I do surgeries where another person’s life is literally in my hands, and it doesn’t make me half as nervous as a two-minute conversation with my daughter.”

“I don’t know.” She feigned confusion. “Morgan didn’t seem that scary to me.”

His laugh was deep and appealing, and his dark eyes crinkled attractively at the corners. “Believe it or not, I—”

“Brenna!”

She turned her head, knowing her transportation dilemma had just been solved. “Josh. Hey.”

Her stepbrother dropped his arm from Natalie’s shoulders long enough to extend a hand across the table toward Adam. “I’m Brenna’s brother, Josh Pierce.”

“Dr. Adam Varner.”

The two men shook, then Josh took a step back to continue the introductions, gesturing toward the very pretty blonde at his side.

“This is Natalie Young, my girlfriend,” Josh said. He looked from Brenna to Adam, then back again, grinning from ear to ear. “And we are so glad to meet you.”

Chapter Four

Brenna almost groaned at the naked joy in her stepbrother’s expression. No, she wanted to tell him. Josh had made no secret of the fact that he wanted Brenna to date more, but Adam Varner was not an option. This was a critical time for her small company, her first potential “growth spurt,” a chance to turn a profit, instead of living bill to bill each month. Brenna needed to work hard this summer, not get distracted by a man—no matter how good looking he was, or how endearing his efforts with his kids. Besides, Adam had his own summer plans and would be gone in a few weeks.

“Dr. Varner here is just passing through Mistletoe,” she said quickly. “He gave me a lift when my car died. Would you and Natalie mind taking me home?”

“Of course not,” Josh said absently. His bright smile had dimmed to a frown. At first Brenna thought he was upset about the car situation—he and Fred had both nagged her to let Fred cosign on a car loan. It’s no more than he would do for me, Josh had said.

Brenna had barely stopped herself from insisting that the situation was different. Instead, she’d simply told him, “I want to be self-sufficient. Need to be.” When you grew up subject to the whims of an unstable parent, you found that as an adult, you liked to be in control. Reliant on no one.

“So, Dr. Varner, you’re an out-of-towner?” Josh asked. His tone had subtly shifted from Welcome to the family to You’d better not have any outstanding warrants for your arrest. “How convenient that you just happened to be driving by in time to pick up a lone woman in distress.”

Adam looked unsure how to answer. “We were glad to be able to help.”

“We?” Josh echoed, his gaze darting to Brenna. “Just how many strangers were in the car?”

She sighed. “Four, three of them not even old enough to drive. Stop looking at Dr. Varner as if he’s suspect. And stop being so overprotective! I’m the older sibling, remember?”

“As bossy as you are,” he said lightly, “how could I forget?”

Natalie politely smothered her laugh.

Adam scooted over on the bench. “Would you two like to sit down? We probably won’t see my kids again until they run out of quarters.”

“Thank you.” Natalie sat next to him, and Josh took a seat on Brenna’s side.

The waitress reappeared, clearing plates and promising a box for Morgan’s cheeseburger. When she asked if Josh and Natalie needed time to decide on their orders, Josh laughed. He had the menu memorized and had probably known what he wanted even before he parked his truck out front. He asked for the barbecue plate, and after a moment’s consideration, Natalie ordered a half-size fried-chicken salad.

“So, Dr. Varner…” Natalie began.

“Please, call me Adam. ‘Doctor’ seems too formal for vacation. And I desperately need a vacation,” he added with a rueful grin.

Considering his traveling companions, Brenna doubted he’d get any real rest or relaxation.

The blonde returned his smile, her interrogation techniques a lot more amiable than Josh’s. “What brings you to Mistletoe?”

“Three weeks of bonding with my kids. I have two girls and a teenage son. We’re looking forward to hiking, exploring the town. We’ll be staying at the Chattavista.”

“What a coincidence!” Natalie said. “Josh works for the lodge.”

It wasn’t that big a coincidence—there were only two real places for tourists to stay around here. The Mistletoe Inn located downtown, as it were, and the more rustic Chattavista Lodge outside the town proper. Nestled among hills dotted with Georgia wildflowers, the lodge was in perfect proximity to a river that offered fishing, tubing and rafting. People made the most of outdoor sports in the spring, summer and brilliantly colored fall. During the colder months of the year, when holiday visitors were more likely to stay at the inn, the lodge offered discount space for corporate retreats, attracting businesspeople from Atlanta and surrounding states.

“I take groups out on the river,” Josh said. “Well, and answer the phone and other stuff. But white-water rafting is a much more exciting job description.”

Brenna smiled in his direction, feeling a big-sister rush of pride. And also feeling suddenly, inexplicably old. The quiet, shaggy-haired boy who’d seemed unsure how to react when his father married Brenna’s mother was now a broad-shouldered, confident man. Despite his joking about “playing outdoors” for a living, she knew how committed he was to doing a good job. “Josh is a trained guide, a CPR instructor and a certified Wilderness First Responder.”

Josh flashed a grin across the table at Natalie. “Brenna’s just trying to make me sound good for you. Is it working?”

His girlfriend chuckled, but before she could reply, the waitress returned with their food.

Josh offered his heartfelt thanks, then stole a glance at Brenna. There was a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Now, if I wanted to repay the favor and make Brenna sound good for anyone’s benefit, I might mention how she kept making the dean’s list and got her MBA.”

Apparently he’d weighed the potential risks of Adam’s being a total stranger against the likelihood of Brenna finding another boyfriend soon and had come down in favor of the good doctor.

Well, can’t fault his taste, anyway.

“You have an MBA?” Adam asked, looking at Brenna in surprise.

Some people found it perplexing that she’d busted her butt for six years in higher education and now walked dogs. “I interned at a corporation after I got my bachelor’s, then tried jobs at two other places once I completed my MBA. After three false starts, I realized that cubicles and Monday-morning meetings just aren’t for me. I lack the corporate group-think mentality.” More alarmingly, she’d felt restless, edgy. For the first time in her life, she’d worried about turning into her mother, so she’d abruptly quit and come “home” to Mistletoe, wanting to feel grounded.

And it had worked. Creating her own business from the ground up was challenging but immensely satisfying; she was carving out her own unique place among family and friends. “My MBA isn’t being wasted, though. I am my own marketing staff, HR and accounting department.”

“Lot of responsibility,” Adam said.

“It’s not exactly on a par with heart surgery,” she said with a wry smile, “but I am very aware that people are trusting me with keys to their homes and members of their family.” Furry, four-legged members, but still.

“Dad!” Geoff yelled from the middle of the dining room. Adam whipped his head around as if anticipating an emergency, but Geoff’s chief concern as he ambled toward them seemed to be, “Any food left?”

Adam stopped his son as he reached for the white square box on the table. “That is your sister’s. And I know your mother raised you with better manners. You don’t shout across a restaurant unless it’s urgent.”

Looking genuinely bemused, Geoff asked, “Was I shouting? Sorry.”

“Now say hello to Brenna’s brother, Josh, and his friend Natalie.”

“Hey.” Geoff nodded politely to Josh, then turned to Natalie. Whereupon he reddened and looked away.

Brenna managed not to smile. When Natalie had been in high school, she’d been one of the head cheerleaders, admired by many tongue-tied teenage boys; a decade later, she was still a head-turner. “We were just telling your father that Josh is a river guide. You have any interest in white-water rafting?”

“That would be awe some!” Geoff sat next to Josh, temporarily forgetting Natalie’s good looks and even food. “Dad, can we try that while we’re here? I know you said we’ll go fishing and tubing, but can we try rafting, too?”

Dumb, Bren. Seeing Geoff’s animated expression, she realized that she shouldn’t have said something before finding out if it was okay with Adam. It was akin to asking someone else’s dog, “Wanna go for a walk?” and getting it all excited without knowing whether the owner had time for that.

“I don’t know.” Adam sounded dubious but refrained from shooting her any accusatory glances. “How old do you have to be to do that, Josh?”

“For rafting, the minimum age is seven. It goes up from there, depending on the intensity of the trip you sign up for.”

Adam nodded. “Morgan’s way too young.”

Speaking of which. Brenna noticed the girls threading their way through the dining room.

“I was still playing,” Morgan announced forlornly, “but Eliza said I couldn’t stay back there by myself.”

“She’s absolutely right,” Adam said.

“She said she wanted to come find out who the he—”

“So is there still room at the table for us?” Eliza asked, blushing furiously.

Adam gave her a hard look, then sighed. “Grab a couple of chairs from that empty table over there. You can sit on the end, and Morgan can squeeze in here with me.”

It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion since Morgan took up no room, and Eliza, having already eaten, didn’t need much space. But she looked so ticked off that Adam might as well have asked her to sleep on the floor so someone else could have her bed. From what Brenna had seen so far, it would be easy to believe Eliza was just ticked off at the world in general. But Brenna thought there was more to it than that.

Although the girl acted as if she loathed her father, was she jealous of his attention elsewhere? Eliza already had to share him with two siblings, and now, on the very first day of their vacation, three new people were added to the mix.

Brenna thought of the string of boyfriends with whom she’d had to compete for her mother’s scattered attention—until the woman had left her outright. “Josh, I don’t suppose you’re ready to leave?”

As she finished the question, he gaped at her. He wasn’t even halfway finished with his meal. “You in a hurry?”

“I…” Between her attraction to Adam and her discomfort at being the outsider witnessing another family’s drama, she couldn’t be more eager to go. But since she couldn’t say any of that, she concluded, “I still have one stop tonight in my neighborhood, and I should try and go by the Dillingers’ if I can get a ride over there. Plus, I have a lot of clerical stuff to catch up on tonight. I’ve been so busy with the actual pet visits for the last few days that I’m behind on updating my calendar, printing invoices and logging checks to deposit.” Which was crucial since it looked as though she’d have to rent a car while hers was being fixed. Lord alone knew how much that was going to set her back.

“We can take the rest of our dinner to go,” Natalie offered.

“No, that’s all right.” Brenna backpedaled, feeling silly and ungrateful. “You guys are doing me the favor. The least I can do is let you finish your meal.”

“Nobody rush on our account,” Adam said. “The kids and I should actually head out to the lodge. If I wait until it gets dark, I may end up lost. Natalie, Josh, it was nice meeting both of you.”

“I’ll definitely see you around,” Josh said. “If you want, I can recommend activities for your whole family.”

“Thanks.” Adam’s gaze fell on Brenna. “And maybe I’ll see you around this summer, too?”

“Don’t count on it,” Josh said, shooting her a teasing smile. “Her workdays sometimes start as early as five and can go past ten o’clock. She has no life.”

Brenna sucked in a breath, a bit embarrassed that Adam had heard her described that way. She briefly considered smacking her stepbrother upside the head, but violence was a bad example for the children.

Besides, it probably wasn’t fair to get mad at someone just for speaking the truth.

“QUINN, DO YOU THINK I have no life?”

The brunette driving the car stifled a yawn. “It’s not even seven in the morning and my coffee hasn’t kicked in yet. I’m not thinking anything.”

Brenna stared at the day’s schedule and said nothing. As it was, she couldn’t believe she was letting Josh’s comment from the night before bother her. She’d known going into the summer that she would have next to no free time, and it hadn’t disturbed her then. So why was it eating at her now?

Because you felt pathetic in front of Adam Varner?

That was a ludicrous reaction. After all, aside from their paths potentially crossing at the Diner or Mistletoe’s only sizable grocery store, she wasn’t planning to see him again. How he viewed her lifestyle was immaterial.

“Brenna? Everything okay?” Quinn asked, sounding more alert.

“Yeah, just ignore me. Everything’s fine—except my car.” The local automobile dealership also rented vehicles, but when she’d called yesterday evening, they’d said she would have to wait until noon to pick one up. That would be useful for her afternoon visits, not so much for the various dogs who’d been home alone since last night and really needed to be let out this morning. “I appreciate your helping me out today.”

“No problem,” Quinn said. “Honestly, it’s good for me. With school out for the summer, I’ve turned into a bum and sleep in way too late most days. Besides…”

“Yes?” Brenna prompted.

Quinn laughed. “I feel like an idiot saying this out loud, but I’m happy for the excuse not to be at home this morning. I hired Gabriel Sloan to do some roof repair for me. I’m lucky that last set of storms didn’t leave me with a living room full of water. Dylan’s pretty handy and does as much work around my half of the duplex as his own, but he and Chloe are away at Hilton Head.” Dylan Echols was coach of the Mistletoe High baseball team; until tryouts in late July, he, like Quinn, had the summer free.

“Gabe Sloan, huh?” Since the man didn’t own a pet, Brenna didn’t know him very well. But most everyone in Mistletoe knew of him.

“Yeah. He does great work and you can’t find a fairer price, but I get a little unnerved around him. Not because of the scandal—that’s ancient history and probably got exaggerated in gossip, anyway. It’s just that he’s so intense. Lilah says she’s never noticed.” Lilah Waide was Quinn’s best friend.

Brenna laughed. “That’s because Lilah’s too wrapped up in that hunky husband of hers to notice anything about other men.”

“Arianne said that, too. Except she didn’t refer to her brother as ‘hunky.’ But she does think Gabriel is sexy.”

“Really?”

Arianne, Lilah’s sister-in-law, had grown up with two older brothers; she was chatty, opinionated and socially fearless. The idea of Ari having a conversation with the brooding loner Gabe Sloan was both vastly entertaining and completely unimaginable.

“Oh!” Brenna snapped her fingers. “I forgot to ask. How are Rachel and the baby doing?”

Quinn smiled. “Wonderfully. Arianne called me from the hospital last night to say that Bailey Kathryn Waide is beautiful and that the entire family is already wrapped around her teeny tiny finger. David should be taking home both his ladies this afternoon.”

“You should have seen him yesterday when he stopped to see if I needed a ride.” Brenna smiled at the memory. She’d gone to school with the eldest Waide sibling; he’d been the valedictorian of her graduating class. “I always thought he was unflappable, but he looked terrified.”

Quinn rolled to a stop at a red light. “I want to hear more about the guy who did give you a ride. Single dad, huh? Was he good-looking?”

Oh, yeah. “I suppose. He’s only in town for a few weeks, though.”

“A lot could happen in that time,” Quinn said playfully. “I don’t want to sound desperate, but I’ve lived here my whole life. I’ve already met most of the local prospects. You ever worry about that?”

“Umm…” Brenna spent more time worrying about whether she’d met most of the pet-owners in Mistletoe.

“There are a lot of great guys here in Mistletoe,” Quinn continued. “Even a few that are still single. But if I were going to click with someone, feel that spark, shouldn’t it have happened by now?”

Brenna tried to think back to her last real relationship, her only serious one since returning to Mistletoe. But it had never gotten as serious as Kevin would have liked. Had there been a definitive spark between her and Kevin Higgs?

The vet was handsome, definitely, and had been a considerate lover. They’d had common interests and enjoyed each other’s company, but in retrospect, she wasn’t sure her feelings for him had been strong enough to generate real chemistry.

“The thing about sparks, Quinn, is that they can lead to fire.”

“Exactly! Igniting passion, that all-consuming heat when you’re around just the right guy.”

Maybe Quinn would be comfortable with that kind of volatility, but Brenna would be frantically looking around for an extinguisher. “Well, good luck with the chemistry thing. For me, right now all I want is to grow my business and expand my client base.” She’d hoped to start building a nest egg, eventually hire part-time help, but her transportation needs were an even more pressing priority.

“Hmm.” Quinn shot her a sidelong glance. “So…if you’re all satisfied and fulfilled with just your work, why the question about whether or not you have a life?”

“This is why I like dogs and cats,” Brenna grumbled. “They don’t point out any conversational inconsistencies!”