A Perfect Bride For Christmas (4 page)

tornados by the names of Michaela, Mia, and Macy blew through the door. They raced as one and ended up with a tangle of small arms wrapping around

Zoe’s legs.

“Mommy,” they yelled up at her in unison.

“We saw horses,” Michaela said, her long black

hair bedraggled and out of the ponytail Zoe had put it in earlier.

Mia, still neat as a pin, piped up, “And turkeys, and a lot of apples.”

“They let us drink cider and eat donuts.” Macy

frowned. Her blue eyes flickered with thought. “They weren’t as good as yours.”

“You ate three.” Michaela unwound her scarf.

“You’ll get fat if you eat like a pig.”

“Now, Michaela, that’s not a nice thing to say.”

Zoe gave her a stern frown.

“It’s true.”

How did she explain to a four-year-old that the word fat could be offensive? She patted Michaela’s shoulder. “It might be true, but there are better ways to tell Macy she needs to curb her appetite.”

“Oh my!” Cherri Jones, her live-in nanny raced

inside, panting as she tried to catch her breath. A large bag filled her arms. “I’m sorry. The bag with 23

Dyann Love Barr

all the spoils of war fell out of my hand, and the next thing I knew, they were through the door.” She

placed the plastic sack containing apples, art

projects, and a half-gallon jug of organic apple cider, on the counter.

Amelia stood in the middle of the shop with a

funny look on her face.

Zoe frowned. It was obvious Alex had told his

mother about their quickie marriage and

annulment? The girls looked so much like Alex it would be impossible to keep them under wraps for long. “Ladies, is that the way to behave when Cherri needs help? You should’ve waited and helped her pick up your things.”

All of them glanced over at Cherri with looks of contrition on their identical faces. “We’re sorry, Cherri.” Michaela went over to Cherri. She placed her check against Cherri’s hand. As the ringleader and spokesman of the terrible trio, she stood

straight. “We’ll pick up our toys. You won’t have to tell us.” Zoe’s little warrior dared her sisters to complain.

The other two nodded in agreement.

“And no dessert tonight,” Macy added.

“That’s ‘cause you already had three donuts,”

Mia groused.

“No one gets dessert.” Zoe shook her head and

gave Amelia an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She slid her arms into the sleeves of her coat. “I remember those days very well. My boys were so close together they might as well have been triplets.” She inclined her head toward the girls.

“They are triplets aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“How old?”

“They’re a little over four years.” Zoe resisted the urge to shoo Amelia out of the door. The woman 24

A Perfect Bride for Christmas

was a sharp cookie, and Zoe couldn’t afford for her to connect the dots—at least not yet. “I didn’t realize you had children.”

“Is that relevant to my employment?” She hadn’t meant to sound aloof, but the less Amelia had to do with the children, the better—at least until the girl’s paternity became important. After all, in every way, they were James Bennett’s children. Even in his last days, he held them close, made videos for them to have as they grew older. His heart condition might have sapped his strength, but it didn’t stop his love.

“No, no, of course not. They’re delightful. I

hadn’t realized you’d married so soon after…well, after.” Amelia fished around for information without bringing up Alex’s name.

Zoe didn’t intend to nibble. “I went to work for James immediately after I resigned. I already had the job lined up. We had a whirlwind romance and all that.” She placed her hand on Amelia’s arm and walked her to the door. “It has been wonderful

seeing you again.”

“And you. I’ll call you as soon as I have more

information about the number of guests and so on.”

“Great, I look forward to it.”

Amelia took one last look at the triplets. “Goodbye, for now.”

The bell on the door signaled Amelia’s

departure, and Zoe leaned against the barrier,

feeling the afternoon chill through the wood and glass. Heat raced through her cheeks. She ought to do the prudent thing—nix the deal and direct

Amelia to another caterer. But she could do this.

Alex be damned. Amelia King held a lot of sway, and if Zoe did well on the reception, it could kick her business into high gear.

James left them very well off, but Zoe liked to work. If she didn’t keep busy, she’d be tempted to compensate with food. That wouldn’t happen again, 25

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not ever.

“Come on, girls. Let Cherri catch her breath for about an hour. I’m sure you ran her feet off.” She flipped over the closed sign on the door and ushered her children into the commercial kitchen area of her business.

She’d lucked out when she found the location.

Originally, it had been a bed and breakfast until someone decided to turn it into a restaurant/antique store. That business failed, but now Zoe used the kitchen for her catering and the rest of the building became her home.

“We’ll make supper tonight. Why don’t we make

something for Cherri? What do you think she’ll want after your romp at the farm?”

“Mac ‘n cheese,” Mia shouted out.

“Hamburgers.”

“Hot dogs.”

“How about a casserole with all three?” Zoe

already knew the answer. Just like Alex, they didn’t like casseroles. It made her wonder if odd quirks or likes and dislikes were inherited. Then again, it could just be four-year-olds’ palette at work.

“Yuck.” That came from all three, as expected.

“Okay, how about oven roasted chicken fingers,

a salad, and macaroni and cheese?”

Soon, she had all three girls busy dipping

chicken tenderloins into an egg wash and panko

crumbs. If they weren’t perfect, it was fine. They’d be gobbled up without a complaint, regardless of the presentation.

A myriad of thoughts about Alex getting

married again tumbled through Zoe’s head while she watched the children eat. She hoped he’d finally found love, that he hadn’t ended up with an icicle or bitch like Bianca. Appearances might be important to him but she really wished him joy.

She took a sip of coffee and watched her children 26

A Perfect Bride for Christmas

eat and chatter. Cherri reached over to wipe a bit of milk that Macy splashed on the table. At least she had the best of everything. If nothing else, Alex gave her three beautiful children. For that, she could forgive him almost anything.

Almost.

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Alex put down his cup of coffee. It made the

sourness in his stomach even worse and did a little acid dance with the back of his throat. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Clint snarled over the phone. “She’s lying.”

The three-way conference call sucked. Alex ran

his hand through his hair and pulled in a calming breath. It was like saying the
Titanic
had a picked up a little dent from its encounter with the iceberg.

Even though his brothers were hundreds of miles apart, Heath in Oklahoma City, and Clint in

Kentucky, he could still feel them breathing down his neck.

“We didn’t pay for you to go to law school just to give us a lame ass answer like
I don’t know what to
tell you.
” Heath didn’t respond any better to the news than Clint.

Older brothers. They were bigger and meaner

than Alex
could ever be. It didn’t matter if he loved them, he’d learned to run faster and be a lot

sneakier to survive wedgies and head noogies, as well as assorted bloodlettings. Not to mention

learning to fast-talk his way out of paternal

retribution. It came in handy in his profession, but this one time he wished he hadn’t opted for a

partnership in a swanky law firm. Right about now, their father’s life as a used car salesman looked pretty good.

“I had Tommy go over the information Mom

sent. She thought someone was demanding payment 28

A Perfect Bride for Christmas

from the estate for the funeral. I felt like I needed a second opinion. Probate law isn’t my specialty. He knows the ins and outs of it better than I do. Give me a murder trial any day.”

“So, Dunne thinks this woman is the real deal?”

Heath sounded
the most suspicious of the two. Years of being a cop and running his own security business added a hard edge to Alex’s brother. “I plan to run her, find out everything about her. This has to be some scam she’s cooked up—she’s probably surfed the obituaries and found Dad’s.”

Dad’s death still felt fresh and raw. It had been hard, unexpected, and left their usually strong mother an emotional wreck. If the news rocked

Heath’s world this much, Mom’s would be

devastated.

This was the last thing she needed.

“Dad’s name is on her birth certificate. Franklin Keeley King. Her name is Keeley, Keeley Jacobs.”

“Shit.” Clint always had a way with words. “This woman is running a scam like Heath said. I’m not buying any of this until we know more. Look, I don’t mean to sound harsh or like I don’t care. I’ve got stuff going on here that makes it impossible for me to get away, but keep me posted, okay?”

“All right, but I hate being the one to tell Mom about this woman.”

“Hey, the youngest gets to be the scapegoat.

That’s the way it works,” Clint snarked. “Besides, you’re closest, and this isn’t something to tell her by phone or with an email. We’ve got your back.”

With that, Clint disconnected to do whatever he did at his Thoroughbred racing facility.

“Look, it’s almost noon,” Heath said. “And I have a lunch with a prospective client. Let me do some investigating. I’ll get back to you. If this woman so much as has a hang nail, I’ll know about it.”

“Noon.” Alex looked at the time on the new

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Dyann Love Barr

Rolex Sydney gave him last night. “Sydney and I are going to Mom’s to talk about the reception. Let me break the news about this woman, but I’ll tell her you’re checking it out. Anything you dig up on her will be useful.”

“Will do, little brother. Like Clint said, keep us posted. I’ll check my email.” Heath’s voice sounded strained. “Give my love to Mom. I’m sure Clint

would’ve said the same thing. He’s got his mind so worked up about this pregnant horse, he’s not

thinking straight.”

“I’ll let you know how it goes. Bye.” Alex put the receiver down and flipped open the file. A picture of a woman, about five years older than him stared up at him with sandy blonde hair, cut chin length with big green eyes. She had same cleft in her chin, and from the looks of it, Dad’s nose.

Oh, man, how could he begin to tell Mom about

this woman’s claims? Worse, it appeared they might be true. He didn’t want to believe this—he wished his father were here so he could hammer away at him and make him tell the truth.

He brushed his hand over his face and tried to

figure the best approach. Several scenarios played out in his head, but none of them added up to a happy ending. Mom
was
strong, one of the strongest women he knew, but this could throw her back into the depression she’d just managed to shake. The preparations for the wedding reception gave her a reason to get out of bed and take her focus off losing their father. Now this.

He envied his brothers. He wished he lived far

enough away to have an excuse to get out of talking to Mom. To avoid giving her the news that her

devoted husband of almost forty years had strayed early in their marriage. Their perfect marriage had been an illusion. His father lived a lie all those years ago.

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A Perfect Bride for Christmas

The Christmas Eve wedding tradition now

seemed nothing more than a superstition that didn’t work. Alex heaved a sigh. Look what happened at his first two Christmas attempts at marriage
—
his other trips to the altar ended in disaster.
Regardless, he and Sydney’s would be perfect, tradition or no tradition. The third time had to be the charm.

The door to his office opened, and Sydney

Stanford, his fiancée, burst through in a flurry of motion. She’d dressed for a trip to the country, but her interpretation of bucolic living made him smile and kicked his libido into high gear.

Skintight denim covered her very fine,

aristocratic ass. The jeans probably cost more than the daily budget of a small third world country.

Sydney’s Irish, hand knit, cream-colored sweater, along with the embroidered, suede leather jacket, were straight from the show room. He knew because she’d tricked him into a shopping trip in the guise of an afternoon tryst. Instead of smoking cigarettes after sex, Sydney liked to shop.

He had to learn to love shopping if he expected to get laid very often.

“Virginia said you were busy, but I told her you expected me. We have an appointment to go out to Hollyfield to meet your mother about the wedding plans, or did you forget?” Sydney plopped down on his lap in a cloud of perfume. She gave her butt a little shimmy.

“I didn’t forget. But you’re making it hard to get out of this chair.”

His body had the natural response to her

closeness. The wicked smile on her face gave her away. She knew exactly what she was doing as she wriggled against his erection. Alex looked over at the leather couch with longing. The woman would kill him if this kept up much longer. He could feel a stop at Dolce & Gabbana coming on.

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“Huh-unh. None of that.” Her tongue dipped just beyond the rim of his lips, tasting him, teasing him.

She leaned back and tapped the end of his nose with her finger. “We have plans, wedding plans, mister, and I want to see your mother again. There has to be some way I can convince her to have the reception at the country club.”

“An irresistible force meets an immovable object, and I’m smack in the middle. No thanks. The