The Kidnapped Christmas Bride

“Give them as gifts,” she answered coolly. “Your mother and girlfriend might like one.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Well, your mother.”

“So that’s one. What about the other eleven?”

“You could hang them in your truck, put them in your room, string a few over your bed.” Her long black lashes blinked, her expression innocent. “Might help keep you out of trouble.”

She knew his reputation, then.

And she wasn’t afraid.

“I see you watching me,” he said.

“How is that possible?” she asked, arching a brow. “You never look at me.”

He looked from the winged brow to the full curve of her lips. His body hardened. Damn, she was hot.

And she was also fifteen. Only fifteen.

“How much are the ornaments?” he asked gruffly.

“Fifteen each, or two for twenty-five.”

“And if I buy twelve?”

“I’ll buy the popcorn when you take me to the movies this weekend.” She smiled up at him, eyes dancing. “There are lots of really good movies out right now, and I’m free Friday and Saturday—”

“I’m not a big movie guy.”

“Then we can skip the movie, and just go park.”

She hadn’t really just said that, had she? For a split second he couldn’t breathe. “You’re fifteen,” he said, voice strangled.

“I’m not asking to have your baby.”

“Good. Because you’re not going to have my baby.” He stared at her, baffled, fascinated, outraged. And wildly turned on. “You’re out of control.”

“I’m not, actually. I don’t mess around. I’ve never even been kissed.” She took a quick breath, her smile unsteady, her confidence flagging. “But I’d like to kiss you.”

“McKenna Douglas,” he growled.

“So you do know who I am.”

“Of course I know who you are. I know which classes you have. I know what you eat for lunch. And I could probably tell you what you wore every day this week.”

Her lips parted, then closed. Pink stormed her cheeks. “Really?” she squeaked.

And it was that breathy little squeak that did him in.

She was gorgeous and sweet and smart and far too good for him. But he needed her. He needed someone good like McKenna to believe him in.

He bought the brass angels, a whole dozen, and he gave one to his mother for Christmas and hung the other eleven from his truck, his room, the mirror in the bathroom, and yes, on fishing wire over his bed.

Trey shifted in the diner booth and looked past McKenna’s shoulder towards the bathroom. “Maybe I should check on him.”

He rose without waiting for her to respond.

*

McKenna sagged as Trey left the booth, his long strides carrying him across the diner floor.

For the past two years she’d known that TJ was looking more and more like his father, but she’d forgotten the details. She’d forgotten the way Trey made a room feel small and other people boring. She’d forgotten Trey’s height and his sheer physicality. He was stronger than other men, more charismatic, too. But his nearness was wreaking havoc on her nerves. She felt tangled up in emotions she didn’t want, and couldn’t handle.

For two years she’d worked to forget him.

For two years she’d pretended he didn’t exist.

But he did exist. He was here. And already he was changing everything.

Trey wasn’t gone long. In fact, he seemed to walk into the men’s bathroom and out again. He opened the women’s door, stuck his head inside and then he was walking back to the table. “He’s not there,” Trey said bluntly.

She was on her feet. “What?”

He peeled money from his wallet and dropped the bills on the table. “We’ve got to go find him.”

*

Cars and trucks whizzed by on the highway, headlights blindingly bright. The sky was clear and the moon shone white, no clouds to diminish the brightness. McKenna was grateful for the moonlight as she and Trey traveled the perimeter of the parking lot, searching for TJ, calling his name.

She was shivering from the cold, her tulle and silk skirts tangling between her legs, but there was no way she’d go inside until TJ was found.

Cupping her hands to her mouth, she shouted his name, telling herself not to panic, telling herself he was here somewhere. He hadn’t been gone long. There was no way he could have gone far.

Trey reached for her hand, taking it in the dark. “We’ll find him, Mac.”

His fingers curled around hers, his hand warm and hard, the skin callused on his palm.

She felt Trey’s heat as his fingers laced with hers. His touch was meant to be comforting and yet she felt only electricity, as if he’d plugged her into something live and potent.

Just like it used to be.

But no, it wasn’t like it used to be. It’d never be that way again.

“I think I see him,” Trey said, releasing her hand and taking off at a run, darting across the highway to the other side of the road.

She watched him duck behind a cluster of garbage cans and come up with a little boy.

TJ.

Her heart lurched with relief. Thank God. Trey had found him.

Chapter Eight

‡

Inside the diner, Trey put TJ down and McKenna didn’t know if she should hug her son or shake him.

“What were you thinking?” she cried, crouching in front of TJ, holding him by the upper arms. “You could have been hurt out there, or killed! Why on earth would you do something like that?”

“I’m running away,” he said hotly, totally unrepentant.

“Why?”

“’Cause you’re making Dad go, and so I’m going, too—”

“I’m not making your dad go—”

“Yes, you are. I heard you. You said that he had to go so Lawrence can come get us and take us home, but I don’t want to go with Lawrence. I don’t like him. I’m not going to live with him.”

“Oh, TJ—”

“I’m going with my dad,” he interrupted fiercely. “You can go live with Lawrence.”

“What about me? Won’t you miss me?”

“No!”

“No? Why not?”

“Because you’re sending him to jail!”

“I’m not.”

“I heard yo

u.” His pressed his mouth shut in a mutinous line for a moment. “And if you send him to jail, I’m going with him, too.”

Her heart fell and she sank back on her heels, full white skirts puffing around her like an airy cloud of meringue. “Oh, honey.”

“I will,” he insisted, arms crossing defiantly over his chest. “Where he goes, I go.”

“They don’t send little kids to jail.” She folded her hands in her lap, studying his unhappy face. “Not even if they’re bad. And you’re not bad.” She glanced past TJ to Trey who stood with his arms folded, too. Like father, like son. “Neither of you are bad,” she said, holding Trey’s gaze. “Sheenans aren’t bad. A little hot-headed, yes, but bad….no.”

TJ was still struggling to process everything. “So he didn’t kidnap us?”

She leaned forward to kiss TJ’s chilled cheek. “No, babe.”

“And he’s not in trouble.”

“No.”

“So he doesn’t have to leave. He can stay with us and we can have Christmas together. Right?”

She struggled to smile. “How about we start with dinner first? And then we can talk about Christmas after.”

*

While Trey and TJ finished their dinner, McKenna used the diner phone to call Lawrence.

He didn’t pick up on his cell. She hung up without leaving a message and tried Paige, who didn’t answer, either. McKenna wondered where everyone was, and what they were doing. She prayed no one was out searching for her and TJ.

Prayed that everyone was calm and pragmatic. But if she wanted everyone calm, then she needed to let people know what was going on. How could she do that, though, when even she didn’t know what was happening?

“Hey Paige, it’s McKenna,” she said, getting Paige’s voice mail. “I’m with TJ and Trey and we’re fine. I’m calling from a restaurant phone, where we’re having dinner. Trey and TJ are eating and talking and doing some bonding. Please tell everyone that we’re all good and no one needs to worry. We’ll be back soon and I’ll explain everything then. Could you please let my brothers and Aunt Karen know I called? Love you. Bye,”

McKenna hung up, and taking a breath for courage, she dialed Lawrence’s number again.