Shannon O'Rourke pulled into a spot in the post office
parking lot and then grabbed her Christmas cards. Normally
she would have mailed them at work, but she was
reluctantly taking a few vacation days from her job as a
public relations director.
In a nearby parking space she saw her new neighbor getting
out of his Jeep Cherokee.
She'd only seen Alex McKenzie once, but according to the
gossipy head of the condominium association, he was a
thirty-four-year-old widowed college professor with a
doctorate in engineering.
He was also one of the most ruggedly handsome men she'd
ever seen.
"Jeremy, leave Mr. Tibbles in the Jeep for now," he said,
unfastening a small boy from a child's booster seat.
The boy climbed down from the Jeep with his father's help,
clutching a worn stuffed rabbit to his chest. He was a
miniature version of Alex McKenzie, and warmth spread
through Shannon's heart at the sight of the serious
youngster, his blue eyes older and more worried than they
should have been.
"It's okay, son, Mr. Tibbles won't mind staying behind
this time," Dr. McKenzie urged.
Jeremy shook his head, holding the rabbit tighter.
His father sighed and passed a hand over the boy's dark
brown hair. "All right. Stay here while I get the packages
out of the car."
A few moments later he maneuvered his son and a large
stack of boxes toward the front door of the post office.
Shannon dashed after them.
"Dr. McKenzie...let me help," she called.
Alex turned and saw a flame-haired beauty hurrying toward
him. There was something familiar about the woman, though
he couldn't place her.
"Excuse me," he said, "do I know you?"
"I'm Shannon O'Rourke, your neighbor."
"Oh, right." Alex remembered the day the previous month
when they'd moved into the condo from their apartment.
He'd been talking to the movers when a woman had pulled
into the next driveway, bundled in a heavy coat, with only
her auburn hair visible. She'd waved her hand in a quick
hello before rushing inside to escape the rain.
It was warmer today and she was dressed in designer jeans
that showed off a pair of long legs, and a cashmere
sweater that left no doubt about her slim waist and
womanly curves. She exuded confidence and flashed an
engaging smile.
One of the packages slipped from his grasp and Shannon
caught it. "Let me have some of those," she said, taking
several without waiting for agreement. She stepped around
him and looked over her shoulder. "Coming?"
One of his eyebrows shot upward. Shy and retiring
obviously weren't in the woman's vocabulary.
Alex took Jeremy's hand.
Everyone said the holidays were especially hard for a
spouse who's lost a partner, but the toughest part for
Alex was trying to make things right for his four-year-old
son. This would be the first Christmas without his wife.
Kim's death the past January had left a huge hole in their
lives. No matter how good it might be, a day-care center
couldn't take the place of a mother like Kim.
The thought of his wife made Alex ache. His friends had
called him the most married man they knew, even though
he'd spent so much time working out of the country. But
they were right. He'd recognized what he had, a sweet,
gentle woman who wouldn't tear him apart the way his
parents had torn each other apart. You didn't find that
kind of love twice.
Shannon nudged the door open with her hip and waited for
father and son to go ahead of her.
"That's my job," Alex said, "opening a door for a lady.
But I suppose you're one of those modern women who don't
believe in that sort of thing."
Shannon opened her mouth, ready to toss out a smart
remark, then hesitated. She'd always believed in being
herself, and if a man didn't like it, then too bad.
But she wasn't sure what "being herself" was anymore. She
wanted more out of life. She wanted to be in love and
married, but lately her love life was practically
nonexistent. And now that four of her five brothers were
happily wed, the desire to find love such as they had was
even stronger. But her life seemed stuck in Neutral, while
everyone else's was Full Speed Ahead.
"I don't mind," she said finally. It was true. She didn't
object to men being chivalrous; she'd just learned that
waiting for a guy to hold a door could get embarrassing.
"All right." Alex rested his shoulder against the door to
hold it. "I've got it, then. Go ahead, Miss O'Rourke."
He was close enough for her to smell the faint scent of
his aftershave, and Shannon's knees wobbled. That wasn't
good. According to her three sisters, Kelly, Miranda and
Kathleen, men with children were complicated, especially
when it came to their motives toward women.
She glanced down at Jeremy's grave face. "Go 'head," he
said, and she melted.
"Thank you," Shannon murmured.
She glanced swiftly at Alex in her peripheral vision, then
walked toward the long line of people waiting for service.
Her condominium was in a small bedroom community outside
of Seattle, but the post office had the usual holiday
crowd. It looked as though they'd be waiting for a while,
something she was foolishly happy about.
Lord, she had to be crazy.
For Pete's sake, he'd called her Miss O'Rourke and said
his job was holding the door for a lady. Alex McKenzie was
obviously the same breed of old-fashioned guy as the male
half of the O'Rourke family. She could spot the type a
mile away, and usually ran the opposite direction. She'd
dated one in college, only to get her heart broken when
he'd dumped her, saying he wanted a homemaker like his
mother...something she definitely wasn't. Her only talent
in the kitchen was turning perfectly good food into
inedible, blackened messes.
A tug at the hem of her sweater made her look down. It was
Jeremy.
"I can help," he said, pointing at the packages she still
carried.
"Oh...all right. May I hold Mr. Tibbles for you? He can
sit on top of my purse while we wait."
Jeremy regarded her for a long moment.
Mr. Tibbles was plainly a very important stuffed rabbit
not to be entrusted to just anyone. Shannon crouched so
she could be eye-to-eye with the boy. Something about him
reminded her of how she'd felt after losing her father
when she was a child herself, and her heart throbbed with
the old grief.
"I promise to take very good care of him." She smiled
reassuringly.
After what seemed an eternity, Jeremy nodded and traded
Mr. Tibbles for two of the packages. She settled the
rabbit so its feet were anchored in her purse, and made
sure it stayed in full view of its protective human. Only
after the exchange had been completed did she see Alex's
stunned expression.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
"I don't know how you managed that. I haven't been able to
separate him from that rabbit since his mother died," Alex
said in a low voice. "He only lets go in the bath, and
that's because he says Mr. Tibbles is afraid of the water.
You must have a gift with children."
Shannon swallowed. What she knew about children could be
written on the head of a pin. "Um...I like kids," she said
tentatively.
It wasn't a lie.
Kids were great little people and she would love to have
one someday. Her three nieces and one nephew were the most
precious things in the world.
Alex's gaze was fixed on his son who had wandered over to
the Christmas tree in the corner. There was so much pain
in his eyes that Shannon's throat tightened. This was a
man who'd lost his wife and was trying to raise his child
alone. And it was Christmas, a time when absences were
felt worse than ever. She remembered what it was like
after her father died — nothing had been right, and even
now there were moments when emptiness replaced holiday
cheer.
"This time of year must be rough," she said softly.
"His mother made things so special for Christmas," Alex
murmured, his gaze still focused on his son. "She loved
baking and doing crafts with him, and fixing things just
right. It's been hard trying to make up for what he's
lost."
Shannon shifted her feet, feeling torn.
She couldn't get involved with a man grieving over his
wife's death. It was simply asking for a broken heart.
Besides, her relationships never lasted. Old-fashioned or
not, the men she continually found herself dating
inevitably wanted her to be less modern and more a
domestic goddess in disguise.
Well, she didn't have an ounce of domesticity in her. But
what about Jeremy? He had responded to her, and that meant
something. Didn't it?
"W-why is the rabbit so important to Jeremy?" Shannon
asked, despite the internal warnings clanging inside her
head. She could tell when a man wasn't interested, and Dr.
McKenzie had disinterest written all over his face.
"I'm not sure." Alex gave her a crooked smile. "Maybe you
can figure it out."
Shannon knew she should confess her ignorance about
children. On the other hand, she did know about hurting.
Pain seemed bottled up inside Jeremy and it wasn't right;
a child shouldn't have to go through so much.
"I'm sorry things have been so hard. Settling into a new
place must make it harder," she murmured instead. "If
there's anything I can do, please let me know." She
swallowed an offer to babysit while she was on vacation.
"Thank you, Miss O'Rourke. That's kind of you," Alex said
formally, in a tone that announced he had no intention of
asking for anything.
She cocked her head. "Please call me Shannon. Nobody uses
Miss O'Rourke unless they want to annoy me. Even reporters
aren't that formal during a press conference."
"Do you talk to reporters very often?"
Shannon shrugged. "It's part of my job. I'm the Public
Relations Director for O'Rourke Enterprises."
"Of course," he said. "You're one of the O'Rourkes." Her
nose wrinkled.
Terrific, she was one of the O'Rourkes. Her oldest brother
was a talented businessman who'd made truck-loads of
money. As one of the richest men in the country, Kane had
gotten more press than most movie stars, so people tended
to recognize the name. Especially in the Seattle area.
"Sorry," Alex murmured, his lazy, comfortable grin sending
her pulse skidding. It didn't make sense; he wasn't the
type of man she usually dated. "You must get tired of
people saying things like that."
"Now and then."
He cleared his throat and motioned to the line that had
moved away from them. Shannon strolled forward, making
sure that Mr. Tibbles remained within Jeremy's sight now
that he'd rejoined them. The boy was so young. She
wondered if he remembered his mother, or if it was the
sense of abandonment that still haunted him. It was hard
for a child to understand that their mommy or daddy hadn't
wanted to die. But death wasn't a concept children
understood very well.