Holiday in Your Heart Read Online Free Page B

signed the merchant copy and handed it back. “He manages my money.” When Maribeth’s parents had been killed in a bus crash during a holiday in Austria, she’d been shattered, but had found herself quite well off, financially. Still in her teens, she’d inherited not only the family home but also her parents’ fair-sized investment portfolio and the proceeds of their life insurance policies. When Evan Kincaid had opened his business in Caribou Crossing a few years back, Maribeth had transferred her portfolio to him, and he’d done exceedingly well for her. “Why are you asking about Brooke and Evan?”
    Mo’s handsome face was marred by a frown and he didn’t answer for a minute or two. Then he said, “I wonder if I could talk to you.”
    â€œI thought we were talking.” This guy might be gorgeous and sexy, but he was getting annoying.
    â€œSorry. I mean about, uh, something private.”
    â€œSomething that involves Brooke and Evan?”
    He nodded.
    â€œI guess so,” she said slowly. “But this is all very mysterious.”
    â€œI’m sorry. Let me buy you a drink and I’ll explain.”
    This man, a stranger to town, didn’t want to date her, but he wanted to buy her a drink and talk about two of her friends. Well, there was only one way to find out what was going on. “Okay,” she agreed. “Do you want to meet somewhere later?” Though she had no reason to trust the guy, no harm would come to her if they met up at one of the town’s bars. She’d be bound to know at least half the people in the room, and they’d watch out for her.
    He glanced at his watch. “It’s time to close up. Could you give me five minutes, and I’ll be ready to go?”
    â€œWhy not?” Too warm in her coat, she shrugged out of it and tossed it on one of the guest chairs.
    Mo’s eyes widened. Her figure—unfashionably curvy, but she was happy with it—tended to have that effect on guys.
    She tugged down the hem of the long, emerald sweater-top she wore over thick, black leggings, and sank down in the other chair. Crossing one leg over the other, she swung a booted foot back and forth. “Five minutes,” she reminded the glazed-eyed man.

Chapter Two
    Oh, man, that was one sexy woman. Every single thing about her was smoking, from those gleaming red curls to the dainty feet in black leather boots. She knew it, too, the way she flaunted her curvy breasts and hips in those clingy clothes. Not that Mo was complaining. He couldn’t remember when last he’d felt such pure pleasure just looking at a woman.
    But she’d given him five minutes, and he must’ve used up one already, drooling. He tore his fascinated gaze away from her and strode back into the shop. Fortunately, Hank’s small bathroom included a shower.
    As Mo washed his hair and scrubbed his body under steaming water, he thought about Maribeth Scott. It wasn’t the first time a woman had let him know she was interested. Actually, it happened a lot—all due to the way his mom’s and dad’s genes had combined. Superficial shit, but when he’d been young, he’d exploited that lucky coincidence when he could, just as he’d fought back against the occasional racist who found his mere existence offensive. Now the racial slurs were fewer, but the female interest continued. Mostly, he pretended not to notice either one.
    Having royally screwed up his marriage to Brooke all those years ago, he’d learned his lesson and had since avoided anything that smacked of being a relationship. It was tough, because he was a healthy guy with a strong libido. Sometimes he gave into the need for a night’s hot sex, but even that could lead to complications. A woman might say that all she wanted was a hookup, but too often afterward she tried to mess around in his life and build herself a place there.
    Tempting as