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BOOK: A Perfect Bride For Christmas
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Alex leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her

forehead. “You scared the crap out me.”

“I scared the crap out of myself, figuratively that is, thank goodness.” She tried to smile, but her lips seemed to be frozen in place. “Go on. I’ll be okay, but hurry.”

It took him less than five minutes to hotfoot it to the house and thumb in 911 while he grabbed some blankets off the guest room bed on the first floor.

Her purse was right where she said it would be. The whole time he talked to the 911 operator and gave her the particulars.

Snow pelted his face, dampened the blankets

with their wet lacy kisses. White arms of cold pulled at his legs as he trudged through the snow and back to the garage.

The big, calico mother cat curled up against his mother, purring and rubbing its head against her face. The litter of kittens played close by, one or two trying to nibble on the scattered cat food, while the others twisted and danced in a mock fight. His

fought the urge to drop kick them out of the way.

Dammit, this was
their
fault.

Instead, he crouched beside Mom and nudged

momma cat out of the way. The kittens scampered off when he threw one of the blankets over his

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A Perfect Bride for Christmas

mother.

“The ambulance will be here as quickly as

possible. There’s a lot of accidents out on the road today.” He tucked the soft pink thermal blanket around her and put one of her brightly colored

handmade quilts on top. “There, is that any better?”

She continued to shiver in spite of the blankets.

“Some.”

Her eyes closed. The 911 operator had said to

make sure she didn’t fall asleep. Maybe she’d hit her head a lot harder than she’d admitted. There were times his mother could be stubborn about her

physical ailments. She refused to use a cane, in spite of her bad knee.

“Come on, Mom. They said you can’t go to sleep.

Open your eyes.”

“I don’t want to.” She squeezed them tighter,

refusing to obey. “The room spins when I open my eyes.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It does if I don’t want to throw up.”

“Now, I wish I’d taken up med school instead of the law.” He reached inside the blankets and took hold of her hand. It felt like a chunk of ice as he closed her small fingers under his.

“You can’t stand the sight of blood. Now, Clint and Heath, didn’t bother them a bit, but you always turned green.” Her eyes stayed closed, but she gave his a twitch of her lips. “Law was the better choice, for you and the rest of the world.”

“Are you saying I’m a wuss?”

She shifted, trying to get more comfortable on

the hard, cold concrete floor. Even though it might be
unnecessary, Alex tucked the blankets around her again, wanting to touch her but still afraid to do more than hold her hand and make sure she was

warm.

“I’ve seen you in the courtroom. You’re ferocious, 83

Dyann Love Barr

even a little scary. I’d never call you a wuss. You never could stand getting a shot as a child either.

Practically had to hog-tie you.”

He didn’t like the way her face paled as she

groaned.

“I still don’t. Now look, you don’t need to talk so much. Just lay there, be quiet, but don’t go to sleep.”

He gave her fingers a slight squeeze. “Hey, I’ve got some news that might make you feel better …or

want to chuck a rock at me.”

She opened her eyes, the blue looked more faded then he ever remembered. “Why would I do that?”

“You know how you’ve always been after us boys

to supply you with grandchildren?” The words came out in a rush.

She blinked, opened her eyes and frowned.

“Grandchildren?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the bump on his nose. “It

seems about five years ago I, well remember when I had that incident in Vegas? Well—”

“Tell me it’s Zoe. Her children, the girls—they’re yours.”

“Well, take the wind out my sails, why don’t you, Mom.” Her hand gripped his tighter. “How did you know? No wait, no talking, remember? I’m telling this story. “

“Last week, when I stopped by Zoe’s shop. I saw them but I didn’t dare ask.”

“They have the King Notch.” He fingered the

place in his own ear that bore their paternal

birthmark, passed down since the Civil War.

“I noticed.” She gave him a weak smile, gripping his hand even tighter. “Lord, I tried to figure out how to bring up the subject, and you’ve already figured it out. They’re something else, aren’t they?

The girls, I mean.”

Sirens sounded off in the distance.

“I think that’s your ride.”

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A Perfect Bride for Christmas

“Alex, if you don’t make it up to Zoe, you’ll make the biggest mistake of your life. I don’t mean you have to marry her. I mean…you are marrying

Sydney, aren’t you?”

He wanted to say no, but nodded.

****

Alex sat on one of the black vinyl chairs that

masqueraded as real leather. At least it had a better chance of getting disinfected by the janitorial staff than the couch in the hospital waiting room. Who knew what bodily fluids the hodgepodge of tans, blues, reds, and dark browns disguised. And he

wasn’t about to sit on it to check it out.

He didn’t consider himself germophobic, but

hospitals gave him the willies.

It had been over three hours since his mother

went into surgery to fix her broken ankle, and he was going nuts.

“Alex, how is she?”

He jumped up at the sound of Jesse Saurs’ voice and wrapped her in a bear hug. “Jesse, I didn’t mean for you come to the hospital in this weather when I called.” He glanced over her shoulder in search of her teenage foster child. “Where’s Ethan?”

“Now where would I be with Mom in the

hospital? Ethan’s at home.”

Jesse had spent so much time at the King house

that she’d adopted his mother as her own. How

many days had he and his brothers played and grew up with the proverbial girl next door? Only, they never thought of her as a girl, just another kid to run around on the acreage between their homes.

He’d lost track of how many summers they spent

wading in the creek to hunt for frogs, snakes, or whatever caught their interest.

This was the sister he wanted, not Keeley

Jacobs.

Today, her face looked gorgeous, even free from 85

Dyann Love Barr

makeup. A long black ponytail swished against her bright, multicolored ski jacket. A hot pink bandeau protected her ears from the cold.

“Have the doctors told you anything?” Her

bright blues clouded with concern.

Alex shook his head. “Nothing I didn’t already

know.” Alex rubbed his hand over his hair. “I mean, even I took one look at the thing and could see it wasn’t going to be a matter of throwing on a cast and calling it good. Dr. Singh said she had a superficial head wound, but they were worried about

hypothermia. She felt so cold, Jesse.”

Jesse hugged him again, giving his back a pat

before she stepped away. “Mom’s a fighter, you know that. And stubborn.”

Alex nodded. He felt some of the tension he’d

been holding fade away as she wove her hand

through his. “Yeah, she won’t let me call Clint or Heath until the surgery is over—didn’t want to

worry them unnecessarily.”

“Come on, sit down.”

She headed for the couch, but he guided her to

the chairs instead. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“It’s been a while. I haven’t seen Clint…” Her

eyes lowered to her hands. She pulled her matching hot pink gloves off a finger at a time. “Or Heath, since the funeral.”

“This has been a bad year for the Kings. First

Dad, now this. Mom’s been busy with the wedding plans but—”

“You don’t have to say anything. Mom told me

yesterday how she and Sydney were butting heads over the reception. Speaking of which, shouldn’t she be here with you?”

Alex slapped his hands against his thighs. “I—If you only knew. I’m…”

Before he knew it, he vomited up the whole

sordid mess, Sydney, Zoe, the kids and all.

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A Perfect Bride for Christmas

“Well, you’re a woman, what’s your advice—

from a woman’s point of view?”

Jesse shook her head. A small smile tugged at

the corner of her mouth. She leaned her head

against his shoulder the same instant Sydney

rounded the corner of the hall.

“My friend, you are well and truly screwed.”

87

Dyann Love Barr

Chapter Ten

Zoe put the
closed
sign up. The two customers she had scheduled cancelled, leaving her time to catch up on her paperwork and inventory. Cherri and the girls were busy doing arts and crafts in the main part of the house while she went through the gourmet muffin mixes on the shelves. Blueberry

Almond seemed to be the hot seller this month. A quick swipe with the dust cloth she had at the ready, a little tweaking, and the muffin selection looked pristine and ready to go.

Christmas music lilted through the shop. The

snow might keep her from catering for a couple of days, but she didn’t care. This freak weather

couldn’t go on much longer, and the holidays were right around the corner. She hummed along with

Baby It’s Cold Outside,
thinking how apropos the song was as the flakes flew outside the window.

Zoe stared in surprise when a bright red car

with a sign saying Express Courier Service on the door, pulled up in front of the shop. No one in their right mind would be out on the streets today.

The driver left the engine running and ran

around the front, onto her once-cleared sidewalk.

The new snowfall had dumped another two inches

since she’d shoveled off the walks and drive earlier in the day.

The instant she held it open, cold air shouldered past the bundled up courier in a big, brutal blast that nearly knocked her off her feet.

“Man, it’s bad out there,” the guy said through 88

A Perfect Bride for Christmas

several layers of his scarf. He shook himself off and stamped his feet. “My heater can’t keep up with it.”

His finger snagged the edge of the scarf covering his face, bringing it down before he handed her the electronic gizmos he’d protected under his arm. “I need you to sign here.”

He handed her a stylus and she scribbled across the tablet’s plastic-coated face as instructed. The courier glanced at her signature, tapped in a few keys and raced back to the still-running vehicle.

Zoe’s finger pried the cardboard flap open to

reveal another envelop with Alex’s office logo on it.

Something official. A dread colder than the chilled air of the shop fingered her heart.

This had to be about the girls.

She went behind the counter and opened a

drawer containing her office supplies. The letter opener she picked up wobbled in her hands as she ran the edge under the flap of the envelope. It took a minute before her heart quit stammering around in her chest.

What was Alex up to?

She gingerly pulled the folded paper up, opened it to see the words
Alexander Franklin King, Zoe
Ann Hillman Bennett, Michaela Ann Bennett, Mia
Alexandra Bennett, Macy Alana Bennett
along with
DNA
.

The bastard wanted DNA tests on her children,

along with both of them, to insure paternity.

Gut sick, that’s the only way she could describe the way she felt. Zoe had already decided to

acknowledge Alex as the girls’ father, however, she refused to have him stomp around and ruin their fragile lives with his posturing.

She knew the phone number on the letterhead

by heart. Fueled with anger so strong she could’ve barbequed a buffalo, Zoe punched in the number on her cell phone and waited. Two rings, and the phone 89

Dyann Love Barr

went to a message saying ‘due to the weather, all appointments are cancelled until tomorrow’.

She ground her teeth in frustration. She wanted to scream at someone—anyone—and then she

wanted to tell Alexander Franklin King to go to hell.

Only, hell wasn’t hot enough for what she had in mind.

The business card he left her! It had his cell

phone number on it.

Zoe raced over to the drawer under the counter

again, trying to remember where she’d put the card.

She’d thrown it in there after he left it on the table.

She pushed aside note pads with her logo, gimme’s for her clients, pens, along with a couple of tape refills. Her neat drawer was a rumpled mess by the time she found the card. It had worked its way

between the pages of one of the notepads.

Her hands trembled as she dialed the number.

Zoe avoided the message he’d scribbled along with the number. How could she ever forget Vegas? The wild night of sex, the joy she’d felt in his arms when he’d said he loved her, then the morning after. All the humiliation she’d ever endured in her life turned into one into a messy ball of hurt. She’d thought her feelings for Alex died that day.

She’d spent the last five years lying to herself.

The knowledge she’d never gotten over him made

her physically ill.

His phone rang once.

Cherri came through the back door on the

second ring. She took one look at Zoe and started to leave, but Zoe handed her the paper and pointed at the phone.

“Great Minerva’s Mittens, she whistled between

her teeth and shot Zoe a speculative look.

“He’s going to fry.” Zoe ran her finger across her throat. “Up to his neck in boiling canola oil.”

Alex answered on the third ring.

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A Perfect Bride for Christmas

“Alex King here.”

“You son of a bitch. You dirty, sneaky, black-

hearted, son of a bitch.”

“What?” He paused for a second before asking

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