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Won't You Be My Husband?
Linda Varner
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYSLauren West: Imagine, Nicke Gatewood, the sexy town bad boy, gallantly rescuing me from an obnoxious mule pursuer. But did he have to say we were engaged?!Nick Gatewood: It was nothing, really. Especially because I need one night of Lauren's time, as my fiancée, to convince the boss's wife that this bachelor isn't the proverbial Thanksgiving turkey.A simple agreement: But Lauren never expected her family and friends to get word of her nonintended nuptials. Or to find herself falling in love with her make-believe bridegroom and planning a very real wedding.Join Linda Varner as she celebrates the joy and love of Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's with three very special couples.
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u9103e4f0-8ac7-5b39-bf7d-1e0c08b51a27)
Excerpt (#uca2e8fd0-8249-57d0-8de9-420184ebadc7)
Dear Reader (#ucf1ddb65-7f8f-5c68-9e3a-93933ba3527f)
Title Page (#uaf55130c-4e18-517a-9706-28de12fb41a3)
Dedication (#u3ffa4ef1-7fca-5d9e-a22c-315108a5d6fa)
About the Author (#u8eef6e54-c316-50d6-bcdf-f9a4dc3439e1)
Recipe for A Wonderful Thanksgiving (#u75cadb7e-acec-5238-8662-4150e374d92f)
Chapter One (#u722280dc-7456-5dba-bedd-829da5bcd0f5)
Chapter Two (#u724c380b-2ccd-5d4a-99f2-1e1e33739d43)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
The smell of a Thanksgiving feast filled the house.
Lauren hurried to the kitchen, but just enough cooking time remained for the dressing and rolls. Nick hovered at her elbow, sneaking bites of everything as it cooked, until finally, she shooed him out of her kitchen.
Lauren glanced toward the dining room where Nick stood, puzzling over what piece of her grandmother’s silverware went where. Her heart filled to bursting point with love. How thankful she was for him on this day meant for thanks. He’d brought sunshine into her life. He’d brought rain. He’d taught her how to treasure both.
How could she let him ride off into the colorful western sunset…alone?
Dear Reader,
In Arlene James’s Desperately Seeking Daddy, a harried, single working mom of three feels like Cinderella at the ball when Jack Tyler comes into her life. He wins over her kids, charms her mother and sets straight her grumpy boss. He’s the FABULOUS FATHER of her kids’ dreams—and the husband of hers!
Although the BUNDLE OF JOY in Amelia Varden’s arms is not her natural child, she’s loved the baby boy from birth. And now one man has come to claim her son—and her heart—in reader favorite Elizabeth August’s The Rancher and the Baby.
Won’t You Be My Husband? begins Linda Varner’s trilogy HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS, in which a woman ends up engaged to be married after a ten-minute reunion with a bad-boy hunk!
What’s a smitten bookkeeper to do when her gorgeous boss asks her to be his bride—even for convenience? Run down the aisle!…in DeArma Talcott’s The Bachelor and the Bassinet.
In Pat Montana’s Storybook Bride, tight-lipped rancher Kody Sanville’s been called a half-breed his whole life and doesn’t believe in storybook anything. So why can’t he stop dreaming of being loved by Becca Covington?
Suzanne McMinn makes her debut with Make Room for Mommy, in which a single woman with motherhood and marriage on her mind falls for a single dad who isn’t at all interested in saying “I do”…or so he thinks!
From classic love stories, to romantic comedies to emotional heart tuggers, Silhouette Romance offers six wonderful new novels each month by six talented authors. I hope you enjoy all six books this month—and every month.
Regards,
Melissa Senate,
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Won’t You Be My Husband?
Linda Varner
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my special friend, Tammie Burgess,
a cosmetologist with talent, skill
and a heart of gold.
LINDA VARNER
confesses she is a hopeless romantic. Nothing is more thrilling, she believes, than the battle of wits between a man and a woman who are meant for each other but just don’t know it yet! Linda enjoys writing romance and considers herself very lucky to have been both a RITA finalist and a third-place winner in the National Readers’ Choice Awards in 1993.
A full-time federal employee, Linda lives in Arkansas with her husband and their two children. She loves to hear from readers and you can write to her at 813 Oak St., Suite 10A-277, Conway, AR 72032.
Recipe for A Wonderful Thanksgiving
1 teenage “bad boy” (complete with motorcycle)
1 kid sister (not the bad boy’s)
1 chance meeting
1 make-believe engagement
Mix together the first two ingredients. Set aside to age. Several years later, toss in a chance meeting. Add the make-believe engagement, then heat to boiling point
Yield: A Home for the Holidays…and forever!
Chapter One (#ulink_c27bf705-70bb-527f-bfac-6e8347aaa628)
“Well, if it isn’t Sissy West. My, how you’ve grown.”
Lauren West started at the sound of the husky, masculine drawl and looked up at its owner, standing in front of her in the hot dog line, his back now to their destination. She saw a ruggedly handsome face and finger-combed black hair. She saw glittering brown eyes fringed with thick dark lashes. She saw the sexiest smile in the state of Texas, maybe the world…
She saw a stranger. A lean, six-foot-and-more stranger, who somehow knew a nickname she’d worked years to lose.
“H-haven’t I though?” Lauren stammered, smiling politely at the man even as her brain flipped frantically through mug shots of long-lost relatives, old boyfriends and past patients of her physician father.
“You don’t have a clue who I am, do you?”
So much for fooling the guy. Lauren hesitated, then gave in to honesty. “Sorry, no.”
“Nicolas Gatewood.”
Nicolas Gatewood? Ex-beau of big sister Diana? Texas City bad boy? High school dropout? Lauren’s gaze swept down and then back up his athletic frame, looking for any of Nick Gatewood’s trademarks: boots, black leather jacket or the words Harley-Davidson. Instead she saw a navy blue cotton sweater, faded form-fitting jeans and scruffy loafers.
“You’re lying,” she blurted, an answer that made him roar with laughter. That joyous sound turned the heads of the Dallas Cowboy football fans lined up all around them. Lauren didn’t care. That laugh also confirmed the man’s claim. Only one male alive displayed mirth with such abandon, and it was with difficulty that she hid her pleasure at seeing him again.
“I’m not, and I can prove it.” He thought for a moment. “Close your eyes and picture the corner of Third Street and Marshall, Texas City, Texas, on a sunny May afternoon about…oh…nineteen or twenty years ago. There are lots of kids standing around waiting for the school bus. One of them is a thirteen-year-old squirt of a tomboy with curly blond hair, freckles and knobby knees.” He paused. “Get the picture so far?”
“It’s slowly coming into focus.” Actually the scene was crystal clear, but Lauren didn’t tell Nick that. Why, she wasn’t sure, but guessed it had something to do with his blatant masculinity, his utter self-confidence, his charm.
Or was it the fact that the longer he talked, the longer she got to stare at him?
“The tomboy, we’ll call her Sissy, is being mercilessly teased by three high schoolers—”
“Moe, Larry and Curly,” Lauren wryly supplied. Nick grinned. “She’s frightened, near tears.”
“Bull. She’s about to break Moe’s nose.”
Nick’s grin widened. “So you remember that afternoon?”
“Of course I remember it. You saved those idiots from a thrashing they would never have forgotten.”
“And all this time I thought it was you I saved when I rode up on my trusty steed.”
“Trusty steed, my foot. You rode up on that beat-up Harley of yours, and the only reason I got on behind you was pity.”
He frowned slightly. “You felt sorry for me? Why?”
“Diana had just dumped you for Brent McEntyre, remember?” Lauren’s four-years-older sister had loved ’em and left ’em at an alarming rate during her teenage years.
“Ach. So she had. I’d forgotten.”
I’ll bet. Lauren still remembered the look on Nick’s face when he’d dropped her off at her house moments after the rescue and found Brent’s sports car parked in the drive. Devastated didn’t begin to describe his expression. “That’s the last time I ever saw you.”
“Until now.”
“Yes, until now.” Lauren smiled at him and, suddenly self-conscious, tried to play it cool as she twisted a tendril of hair that had escaped from the French twist at the back of her head. The next second she abandoned that and, with a hearty “God, it’s great to see you!” threw her arms around his middle.
Nick hugged her back so hard the breath left her lungs in a soft whoosh. Just as abruptly he let go and glanced over his shoulder to check his progress in the concession line. He moved a few steps closer to the counter, then gave Lauren his attention again.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, stuffing the tips of his fingers in the front pockets of his jeans. She realized then that he didn’t look totally at ease, himself. “I seem to recall that you hate football.”
Lauren shrugged casually even as she noted the slight flush now staining his tanned cheeks. Had the hug embarrassed him or did he, too, want it to go on forever?
“One of my partners had a spare ticket.”
“Partners? What are you…a lawyer or something?”
She laughed. “Or something. I’m a doctor—OBGYN.” She told him the names of her four female partners and where their clinic was located.
Nick slapped the palm of one hand to his head as though pronouncing himself a dunce. “I should’ve guessed you’d follow in the old man’s footsteps. You had his knack for healing hurts even when you were a kid.”
Lauren thought of her father, a general practitioner dead eleven years. “You think?”
“I know.” Nick glanced back to check his progress in the line once again and adjusted his position accordingly. Lauren followed suit, keeping the distance between them the same. “You live here in Irving?”
“Dallas, actually. What about you? What are you doing now and where?”
“I’m an architect.” He laughed at her startled expression “With Avery, Sanders and Wright, Inc. Heard of them?”
Still stunned by his occupation—as far as she knew the man had never finished high school—Lauren barely managed a nod. Who hadn’t heard of the prestigious firm?
“I work in Dallas, too,” Nick said, adding, as if to answer her unspoken questions, “G.E.D. in the Army, college after I got out.”
“Why, that’s wonderful!” Lauren exclaimed, giving him both a verbal and literal pat on the back.
“You’re surprised, aren’t you?”
“To be honest, I am.”
“You thought I’d wind up working in a garage somewhere, wearing grease-stained coveralls and a torn T-shirt.”
“That’s not true,” Lauren retorted even though she knew he teased. For some reason it was important that Nick understand she’d always thought he had potential. “I may not have guessed you’d be an architect, but I knew you’d go places.”
