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“I once crammed for a test until four in the morning and was up by seven a.m. to kick its a—butt!” She caught herself, glancing down at Jace. She already owed a couple bucks to the pint-sized mercenary’s swear jar. “But you might try a hot compress on the sore side and slowly keep working it the opposite direction. It will feel so much better, trust me.”
“I’ll give it a try, thanks.”
“Dad, this box is getting heavy,” Jace griped, adjusting his grip.
“All right, all right.” Clark shrugged good-naturedly. “The impatience of youth.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to remind Clark he wasn’t old by any means, but they were already walking toward the other end of the yard. Her gaze drifted over Clark’s retreating back. Time had definitely been kind to him. Gone were the skinny, stooped shoulders and straggly hair hanging down his back. His brown hair was cut above his collar, and he actually filled out the blue flannel he wore rather nicely. Ever since his return to town the local women, even the married ones, had been overcome with lusty intentions. Merry noticed at least two or three casseroles a day and quite a few pies that first month being delivered to Clark’s front door, each of the ladies dressed from their Sunday best to next-to-nothing cocktail chic. Word spread quickly that Clark made it abundantly clear to every woman who’d pursued him that he wasn’t interested in dating. Period. Breaking the hearts of every hopeful female in Mistletoe.
Up until last night, Merry related to his feelings. Dating and relationships equaled a lot of work that didn’t pan out. But standing at the bar last night until last call watching happy couples sway in tight embraces, a rush of loneliness had swept through her. The overwhelming emotion left her tempted to break her year-long abstinence with the next rando who offered to buy her a drink, but in the end she’d gone home alone. It was the right choice, but certain parts of her anatomy disagreed with her.
But sex wasn’t the core of a great relationship, which was her ultimate goal. To find someone who made her as happy as her dad made her mom. A man she’d consider her other half, the way Noel felt about Nick.
Merry caught sight of her brother, setting the ladder against the house. Noel stood next to him with a lasso of Christmas lights hanging off her arm, her brown hair knotted on top of her head except for a few stragglers dangling around her face. Nick brushed Noel’s hair back tenderly, gazing at her like she was beyond precious to him. It was nauseating, and yet Merry winced at the stab of jealousy in her gut.
“Merry,” her mother called. “Come here, I have a job for you.”
“Of course you do,” Merry said without any real bite, but her mother still snorted.
“Such a smart-ass.” Victoria Winters held up bundles of lights, visibly mangled. “Can you untangle these for me?”
“Sure.” Merry took the mass from her mother and headed for the patio furniture at the end of the covered porch.
“Where are you going?”
“To sit while I work on these. As wonderful as your faith in me is, I can’t walk and untie these knots at the same time.”
Her mom huffed. “Fine. I’m going to make sure your father doesn’t get any ideas about climbing one of these ladders. If he falls and breaks his neck, I’ll kill him.”
“That seems a bit redundant, Mom.”
“You know what I mean,” Victoria said with a wave of her hand. “Don’t take all day with those. We have a lot to do, and I need your help.”
“I know,” Merry grumbled. Sometimes her mother talked to her as though she was still the precocious eleven-year-old hiding in the trees to avoid her chores.
Her fingers weaved and untwisted the green light strands, the task not unlike when her yarn snarled up. She looped and wrapped, watching the employees and their significant others work together. Her envy crept to the forefront again as one of the farm hands, Martin, grabbed his adorably pregnant wife around the waist and kissed her, swiping the box she was carrying as though it was too heavy for her to manage. Whatever he said to her was disregarded when she grabbed the burden back from him and waddled away, smiling at him over her shoulder.
Merry yanked on the light string a little too hard and a pink casing popped off. She got up, chasing it across the porch as she ticked off the list of available men in town in her head. It was short and those on it didn’t exactly snag her interest. Every relationship she’d ever had started with an instant shock of attraction and progressed from there, but her track record was evidence enough that her judgment was not to be trusted. Between her first boyfriend, the thief, to her last, the cheater, she really knew how to pick ’em.
Holly had told her more than once she picked the same type of man, but in a different suit. It would make more sense if she’d fall for an outdoorsy guy with a big heart like her dad. Instead, she’d spent a year with a marketing major who’d been caught plagiarizing and then left school without a word. Two years she’d wasted shacked up with a borderline alcoholic who’d asked her home for his brother’s wedding but dumped her the minute they returned because his mother didn’t see a future with her.
The final catalyst was her last boyfriend, Killian Peters. He’d had her fooled for sure, convincing her to move from Washington to Colorado with him so he could work at his dad’s medical practice. He’d been older, had his life together, and Merry thought she’d finally found a decent, honest guy.
Until she’d caught him giving one of his nurses a gynecological exam. With his penis.
She’d packed up her stuff that day and driven home, telling herself the whole way back to Idaho there would be no more uprooting her life for any man. Merry would take all the time she needed to figure out what would make her happy.
After a year, Merry knew she wanted a man completely crazy about her, passionate about family, and who wouldn’t lie, cheat, or steal. That wasn’t asking much, right?
Jace raced up the porch steps and slid to a stop in front of her as she straightened up with the light casing in her hand.
“Need some help, Merry?”
“Sure, that would be great.” She went back to her perch and pulled a short bundle of lights from the box, holding it out to the kid. “Thanks. I appreciate it. My mother gave me a herculean task.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked, sitting down in the chair across from her.
“It means hard.”
