Holiday Heat: The Men of Starlight Bend Read online

Maddox drew back. “What?”

  Haley sat up. In a voice as loud as Maddox’s, she yelled, “Yes, I will marry you!”

  Maddox thumped back in his seat. “Shit.”

  “What’s the matter?” Haley’s eyes lit. “Want to take it back?”

  “Hell no!” Maddox pounded his hands on the steering wheel. “I just realized I proposed to you in a pickup on the side of the road with the dog drooling in my back seat.”

  Lance barked twice.

  “I know,” Haley said. She laughed. “It’s perfect.”

  Maddox wasted no more time with words. He moved to Haley, hauled her into his arms, and brought his mouth down on hers.

  The kiss heated his blood and the air around them, sound rushing in his ears. Haley tasted of desire and goodness, of love and excitement. Her body was hot against his, the softness of her a sharp contrast to the hard edges of his life.

  Haley kissed him back with enthusiasm, her lips lush, the seatbelt between them not getting in her way. She swept her tongue into his mouth, the little noises in her throat reminding him of the sounds she’d made when he’d thrust into her on her bed.

  His cock was rising, remembering it too. Even the seatbelt buckle digging into this hipbone couldn’t stop the rush of hunger for her.

  Another eighteen-wheeler rolled by, going the other way, this one honking repeatedly. The driver rolled down his window and yelled out, “Woo hoo! Merry Christmas! Go for it, man!”

  Haley broke from Maddox, blushing furiously. Maddox’s face ached, and he realized he was smiling hard. He gave a thumb’s up to the passing truck, and the driver honked as he fishtailed around the corner.

  “Guess we should go,” Maddox said, forcing himself back to his seat.

  “Yes, I guess we should.” Haley laughed, a sound like chimes in the Christmas air. “Please, Maddox. Take me home.”

  ~~*~~

  The pies had been baked, the turkey ready and waiting in the fridge, the last decorations put on the tree. Boxes wrapped, bows tied, Lance running around with a big jingle bell attached to his collar.

  Haley, Maddox, and Aunt Jane had made their careful way to church for a Christmas Eve service, back for dinner, and then to bed.

  As Haley lay in the small bedroom, her body wrapped around Maddox’s larger one, snowflakes drifted past the window.

  On the rug, Lance began to snore. In the bed, Maddox did too.

  Haley laughed softly. “I love you, Maddox Campbell.”

  Maddox’s eyes cracked open instantly. He’d either been faking, or the words had dragged him out of his dreams.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “I love you, Haley McKee. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Haley whispered back.

  Lance drew a long breath and heaved it out in vast contentment.

  “‘And to all a good night,’” Haley said.

  “Night’s still young.” Maddox’s voice held a sinful note.

  “That’s a good point.” Haley laughed up at him as his mouth came down on hers, and he loved her again, very early on a snowy Christmas morning.

  The best Christmas present ever. Santa had been right—What Haley had wished for in her heart had indeed come true.

  Epilogue

  From Danny Vining, Starlight Bend, Montana, to Santa Claus, The North Pole

  Dear Santa,

  Thank you for giving me the best Christmas ever. Maddox Campbell took me over to Oregon to see my dad. Maddox stayed with me the whole way, even the scary part in the prison, waiting with all the other kids to see their dads.

  I was afraid I wouldn’t know what to say to Dad, because I hadn’t seen him in so long. I was really little when he went away.

  But when I saw him in the room waiting for us, I didn’t worry anymore. They let me go right up to him, so I ran to him and hugged him hard.

  Dad hugged me back, and he started crying. I asked him what was wrong, and he said he was crying because he was happy.

  He said thank you to Maddox for bringing me to see him. Maddox said no, it was Haley that made it happen, and told Dad he was going to marry Haley, who is very pretty. Dad said, Good for you, and tell her thank you.

  Then he asked about Mom. Mom hadn’t wanted to come, and Dad said he understood. He’d done a bad thing leaving her, but he regretted it, and hoped that when he finished paying for what he’d done—he’d robbed a store so he could buy more alcohol, he told me straight out, and told me it was the worst mistake he’d made in his life. Maybe someday he could go apologize to Mom and see if they could at least be friends again.

  I told him I’d talk to her, and he laughed. Then he hugged me again and asked me to tell him everything.

  Maddox sat with us, and I told Dad things that had happened at home since I’d seen him. Maddox seemed surprised I had so much to say, because I don’t talk much around him. That’s not because I don’t want to, but I figure no one is interested in what I want to talk about. Dad wanted to hear everything.

  I had to leave too soon, but Dad said I could come back anytime. Maddox promised to bring me, said he’d set up a schedule. I didn’t tell Dad, but I decided I’d talk to Mom and see if she’d start coming with me. Maybe not next time, but when she was ready.

  I hugged and kissed Dad good-bye, and then Maddox took me out. He and Haley are getting married in January, and they already invited me to the wedding. I will take lots of pictures and show them to Dad.

  So, thank you, Santa. I knew you wouldn’t let me down. I know Maddox and Haley set it up, but they couldn’t have without you. Haley even helped me with this letter to you, making sure I spelled everything right. She’s a nice lady.

  Stay warm at the North Pole. Maddox says it’s even colder there than in Montana, and we’re pretty cold here.

  Talk to you next year.

  Love,

  Danny

  End

  Keep reading for the next installment of Holiday Heat: The Men of Starlight Bend!

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading! Snowbound in Starlight Bend is loosely connected to my Riding Hard series, about Maddox’s cousins who are stunt riders in Hill Country, Texas—five brothers who are hard-riding and tender-loving.

  For more information about that series, and the other series I write as Jennifer Ashley and my two pseudonyms (paranormals, historicals, and historical mysteries), visit my website at http://www.jenniferashley.com. There you can sign up for my newsletter to be kept up to date on all my new releases, or join here: http://eepurl.com/47kLL

  You can also follow me on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/jenniferashleyallysonjamesashleygardner) and Twitter (http://www.twitter.com/JennAllyson)

  Best Christmas wishes,

  Jennifer Ashley

  Author Bio

  New York Times bestselling and award-winning author Jennifer Ashley has written more than 75 published novels and novellas in romance, urban fantasy, and mystery under the names Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James, and Ashley Gardner. Her books have been nominated for and won Romance Writers of America’s RITA (given for the best romance novels and novellas of the year), several RT BookReviews Reviewers Choice awards (including Best Urban Fantasy, Best Historical Mystery, and Career Achievement in Historical Romance), and Prism awards for her paranormal romances. Jennifer’s books have been translated into more than a dozen languages and have earned starred reviews in Booklist. Visit her at http://www.jenniferashley.com and join her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/47kLL

  Books by Jennifer Ashley

  Riding Hard

  (Contemporary Romance)

  Adam

  Grant

  Carter

  Snowbound in Starlight Bend

  Tyler

  Ross

  Kyle

  Ray

  Shifters Unbound

  (Paranormal Romance)

  Pride Mates

  Primal Bonds

  Bodyguard

  Wild Cat

  Hard Mated


  Mate Claimed

  “Perfect Mate” (novella)

  Lone Wolf

  Tiger Magic

  Feral Heat

  Wild Wolf

  Bear Attraction

  Mate Bond

  Lion Eyes

  Bad Wolf

  Wild Things

  White Tiger

  Guardian’s Mate

  Red Wolf

  Shifter Made (“Prequel” short story)

  The Mackenzies

  (Historical Romance)

  The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie

  Lady Isabella’s Scandalous Marriage

  The Many Sins of Lord Cameron

  The Duke’s Perfect Wife

  A Mackenzie Family Christmas: The Perfect Gift

  The Seduction of Elliot McBride

  The Untamed Mackenzie

  The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie

  Scandal and the Duchess

  Rules for a Proper Governess

  The Stolen Mackenzie Bride

  A Mackenzie Clan Gathering

  The Long Gone Girl of Starlight Bend

  By Erin Quinn

  Chapter One

  Kari Dale spotted the aptly named Bar On The Lake from the street as soon as she pulled into Starlight Bend. It slouched low over the water, supported by thick stilts and a sagging dock. A solid wall of windows reflected the mystical mountains, frigid waters, and the swollen, winter sky surrounding it. To Kari, it looked like a magical place, just for adults. Exactly what she needed after the last hour of white-knuckled driving on icy roads. With a sigh of relief, she parked in the gravel lot and hurried into the sheltered warmth of the bar.

  At four p.m. on a random Thursday afternoon, only a scattering of tables had customers, and less than a handful of the barstools had butts in them. Pretending she didn’t notice the stares following her, she added her butt to the count, shrugged out of her heavy coat, and looked around.

  A fire blazed in a giant stone fireplace behind her, heating the dark, hopsy smells in the air like fragrant oils. Antlers, horns, and dusty old animal heads hung on the other two walls, but it was the breathtaking view that drew her eyes. The floor to ceiling windows looked out at the lake and mountains like a portal into another world.

  A graying bartender with a lot of mileage on his lined face slid a cocktail napkin in front of her. “Whatdaya have?” he asked.

  “A glass of wine, please. Pinot Noir if you have it.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Oh. Well, then . . . what reds do you have?”

  He hooked a thumb at two nozzled boxes stuffed into a countertop fridge. One box had White written across the side, the other Red.

  “I’ll have a beer and a shot, please,” Kari corrected.

  “Shot of what?”

  “Uh….”

  “Whiskey?” the bartender prompted.

  She’d been thinking more along the lines of a Lemon Drop or a Buttery Nipple, but the look on the bartender’s face was enough to stop her from ordering one.

  “Yes,” she said. “Whiskey.”

  At the other end of the bar, a man looked up from his red pen and stack of papers. Silvery eyes nearly the same shade as the clouded sky behind him lingered on her for a second too long before he took a drink of what looked like watered down iced tea, and went back to work.

  “Any particular kind?” the bartender asked.

  “You have choices?”

  She thought it a reasonable question, considering his wine selection. Evidently, she was wrong.

  “Yes, I have choices,” he said hotly. “I got Irish whiskey, Scotch, Canadian, bourbon, rye, single malt—”

  “Quit badgering the woman, Stan,” the man at the bar interrupted.

  Kari shot him a surprised glance and he returned it with a smile.

  “I’ll take the Irish whiskey, please,” she said, though she wouldn’t know Irish whiskey from Canadian, if it stood in a line up with a green sign and a flag.

  Stan grumbled as he moved away. He didn’t ask her what kind of beer she wanted—that one she could have answered. Instead he drew a Bud Lite from the tap and set it down beside a shot glass filled with amber liquid.

  The man at the end of the bar shook his head when Stan moved away. To Kari, he said, “Rough day?”

  Day. Week. Year.

  “Something like that.”

  She took a sip of her beer and gave the red pen poised over his papers a curious look.

  “High School history,” he said after a small pause. “Essays on the Manifest Destiny. I’m not even halfway through grading them and I want to jump off a cliff. Maybe I should start drinking, too.”

  “Some days you just have to,” she agreed, and he smiled again.

  It was a nice smile, too. The way it fanned the lines around his eyes and framed his mouth made her think he used it often, and not just in bars with strangers. He didn’t look like any teacher she’d ever had, though. Dark hair, light eyes, and a disreputable shadow on his jaw that roughened the edges in the best way. She wondered how many of his female students had crushes on him. Probably all of them.

  She’d been staring. Flustered, she picked up her shot and drank it—all at once like she did it all the time. The whiskey was sweet, strong, and smooth as honey, but that didn’t stop it from burning her throat and stealing her breath. Only vigorous coughing for what felt like an eternity restored it.

  When she finally opened her watery eyes again, the history teacher was watching her with concern and the grouchy bartender looked like he was ready to start pounding her on the back.

  “Wrong pipe,” she said.

  Neither one looked like they believed her, but the teacher seemed relieved that she wasn’t about to keel over.

  Now that she wasn’t gasping, she could feel the heat of whiskey, warming her from belly to brain. It felt good, cathartic even. She wasn’t really the kind of person who went to bars by herself. Pick up a bottle of wine and drink it at home in her PJs? That was more her style. But she’d been working so much lately, pushing herself so hard, that she needed this…whatever this turned out to be.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before,” the teacher spoke again. “Are you new in town or just passing through?”

  “Passing through. Eventually.”

  “You don’t like Montana?”

  “What I’ve seen of it is beautiful. I just don’t like staying in one place.”

  “Ever?”

  She didn’t know how to answer that question. She’d been on the go for so long that it was all she knew. She shrugged, and like the lunatic she was, pushed her shot glass forward with a nod at Stan.

  When she looked again, the teacher had turned his attention back to grading his essays. She stared at his bent head, trying to think of something to say next. She felt awkward sitting at the bar all alone. Though the whiskey spread through her system, easing her tension, it didn’t fill her with sparkling conversation, unfortunately.

  She glanced at the lake view behind him. Earlier it had been raining, then sleeting. Now, fat flakes drifted down.

  “Does it always snow this early?” she asked when the man looked up.

  “Most years,” he answered dryly. “October isn’t early, though. August, that’s early.”

  “Wow,” she said, nodding, though he hadn’t asked a question. “You’re from Starlight Bend, then?”

  “Born and raised,” he said.

  “I can’t even imagine that. The longest I ever lived in one place was four years—a little town in New Mexico that no one’s ever heard of.”

  The bartender filled her shot glass just as the jukebox began playing Night Moves.

  “Good song,” she said, smiling.

  The history teacher studied her for a moment, glanced at her shot glass, and then looked into her eyes. “Are you here to drink alone, or would you like some company?”

  He had a nice voice, rich and smooth. Deep down, something gave her a hard elbow in a soft p
lace. Yes, it whispered, she wanted company. Surprised at the power of the feeling, she nodded.

  “Company would be nice.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  And she liked that he asked. It spoke of a gentleman’s manners. Of a confident man who didn’t want to push. Or, most likely, didn’t need to.

  “Yeah,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat. “Why not?”

  He nodded, picked up his stack of papers, tapped them a couple times to straighten the edges, then crammed them into his satchel. Man, satchel, and the watery iced tea, moved down the bar to the empty seat next to her. The old bartender watched it all suspiciously.

  “Stan, I’ll have what she’s having,” he said, pushing the tea forward so Stan could dump it.

  “Ain’t it a school night?” Stan asked with a sour frown.

  The teacher’s brows shot up and he grinned. “You gonna call my dad and tell on me?”

  “Maybe I will,” Stan grumbled, moving to the taps. A few seconds later, he placed the beer and a shot of whiskey on the bar. The teacher clinked his glass against hers before drinking down the shot without coughing his brains out after. He did suck a quick breath through his teeth, though.

  “Haven’t done that in a while,” he said with a laugh.

  Cautiously, she took a drink of hers, too, finishing it in several small swallows this time. The second one went down easier than the first and warmed her blood like wildfire.

  “I’m Tyler,” the teacher said, holding out his hand. “But everyone calls me Ty.”

  “I’m Kari. With a K.”

  She put her hand in his, shocked by its warmth and size. He gave hers a gentle squeeze and released, but didn’t pull away. She didn’t, either. It was the alcohol, she told herself.

  “Welcome to Starlight Bend, Kari with a K.”

  For a moment, they just stared at one another, still touching. Still not pulling away. Stan muttered something she couldn’t make out and finally, she slipped her hand from Ty’s. Her palm tingled and she curled her fingers around it to hold onto his warmth.

  Ty turned in his seat so he faced her, one booted foot on the railing by her stool. “So . . . what brings you to our little corner of paradise, Kari?”