Holiday Hideout Read online

  “I see.” She wondered if he had any idea how sexy he looked standing there talking about doing his familial duty. “Sounds sort of medieval.”

  “I absolutely agree. And I’ve said that, but it doesn’t seem to make any impression.”

  “At least I don’t have that kind of pressure. My two brothers and my sister are providing the next generation of Tierneys.” She ripped the plastic off the pizza. “Do you happen to know if there’s a pizza pan anywhere?”

  “There should be.” He started opening doors. “I seem to remember seeing one when Jillian unloaded cabinets so I could refinish them. Yeah, here it is.” He pulled a large flat pan from a bottom cupboard.

  She took the pan from him and deposited the frozen pizza on it. “You refinished the cabinets?”

  “Last year. They needed it.”

  Gazing around, she had new appreciation for the honey glow of the oak. “Nice job.”

  “That’s the kind of work I like the most, the kind where you can see a difference after you’re finished. Wiring and plumbing are sort of fun, but they’re not as creative.”

  In her preoccupation with Mac, she’d forgotten to turn on the oven, so she did that. The pizza had to thaw a little bit, anyway. “So you enjoy your work.”

  “I love it. Maintaining vacation homes around the lake is my idea of paradise. I set my own schedule and the views are amazing. Sometimes I’m crazy busy, but when there’s a lull, I go camping and chill out.”

  “And you’re happy.”

  “Hell, yeah, I’m happy.”

  “You don’t feel that you need a woman to complete the picture?”

  He scrutinized her. “Is that a trick question?”

  “No, it’s a serious question.”

  “You mean, do I think I have to get married to be happy?”

  “Right.”

  “The answer is no, I don’t.”

  “Hallelujah!” She punched her fist in the air. “I knew I wasn’t the only oddball out there!”

  “I take it you don’t have the need to rush to the altar, either?”

  “Definitely not. Hotel management is demanding, which is fine, because as a single person I can devote myself to it. But if I had to work around a husband’s expectations, I’d feel torn.”

  “Depends upon the expectations.”

  She gazed at him and realized she’d never felt free to discuss this with a man before. “I work very weird hours sometimes, and I couldn’t be counted on to cook and clean, let alone take care of a baby.”

  “I hate to think that’s the current definition of what a wife does. I’d like to believe we’ve made some progress.”

  “There are guys who would do those jobs, or would be happy to hire a cleaning lady and a nanny, and eat out a lot. But they’d still expect my attention some of the time.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, that’s fair to say.”

  “I just don’t know if I have that time—not to mention the energy—to give the proper amount of attention to a partner.”

  He studied her. “You would if it mattered enough.”

  “Then maybe it doesn’t.”

  “Does your family get that?”

  She shook her head. “My family is into marriage. That comes before everything else, as if a person must be coupled up to have a fulfilling life. I just don’t believe that.”

  “For that matter, neither do I.”

  “Then let’s get this pizza in the oven so we can sit by the fire and drink to that.” Beth slipped the pizza pan into the hot oven, set the timer and walked back into the living room where Mac was filling both their wineglasses. She felt euphoric. She’d found a man who agreed that marriage wasn’t the be-all and end-all of existence.

  She picked up her glass from the end table and touched it to his. “To being single and loving it.”

  He looked into her eyes. “To making our own choices.”

  “Exactly. Down with blind dates.” Then she remembered he still had one to deal with and made a face. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He glanced out the window. “Something tells me the weather is going to keep me from making it to Reno tomorrow to meet Stephanie, anyway.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, not really. I have new snow tires and I’ll bet I could make it if I wanted to, but I don’t. My mom said she couldn’t uninvite Stephanie, so I’ve decided I just won’t be there. The roads are going to be too dangerous. I’m sure of it.”

  Beth had a moment of misgiving. “I’m probably a bad influence.”

  “No, you’re a good influence.” He lifted his glass in her direction. “Thanks, Beth.”

  “You’re welcome.” She sipped her wine and tried to ignore the guilt whispering through her mind. What if Stephanie was perfect for him? His mother knew him well and she might have found his ideal mate.

  Once they were settled on the couch, she turned to him. “Have you liked any of the women your parents have fixed you up with?”

  “I’ve liked most of them. But that doesn’t mean any of them was someone I envisioned spending my life with.”

  “Yeah, same here with the men my folks have brought around.”

  “To start with, there has to be plenty of chemistry. You know, a certain zing.”

  “Right.” She wondered if anything was zinging for him when he looked at her. She was experiencing some serious zing regarding him. But if he didn’t go to Reno, he might miss out on a fabulous meal. “Is your mom a good cook?”

  “Do bears live in the woods?” He grinned as he relaxed against the cushions with his wineglass cupped in one large hand. “Yeah, she’s great.”

  “So she’s a wonderful cook, which means you would be able to enjoy a feast tomorrow.”

  “Granted, I’d be well fed, but I’d pay for it. Believe me, turkey with all the trimmings doesn’t taste nearly as good when you’re expected to entertain someone you’ve never met who has been carefully selected as a potential fiancée.”

  Beth sighed. “I know. Believe me, I know.” She hesitated. She was only a mediocre cook at best, but what the hell. “You could come over and share my Cornish game hen, although I warn you, it won’t be anything like a full Thanksgiving dinner, and I’m no gourmet chef.”

  His eyes lit up, but then he shook his head. “I don’t want to interrupt your plans. You probably had it figured out so you wouldn’t have to go shopping while you were here. I can’t believe you have enough to feed me, too. I eat a lot.”

  “So what if we do use up what I have? It’s not as if we’re that far from civilization.” She gestured out the window. “Down the road a bit are a whole bunch of hotels and casinos. If those snow tires work as well as you say, you can always buy me dinner if the provisions give out here.”

  “I could do that.”

  She realized then what she’d said and her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Wait. I’m sounding pushy. I wasn’t implying that you would stick around that long, and I certainly didn’t mean to suggest you had to invite me out.” Way to go, Tierney.

  “Easy, Beth.” He smiled. “You’re not being the least bit pushy, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I am worried about that. First I talk you into abandoning your mother’s turkey-day feast, and then I invite myself on a dinner date. I may be in management, but I swear I’m not a bossy person.”

  “You didn’t talk me into anything. You inspired me to take my destiny into my own hands for a change. If I accept your invitation for Cornish game hen, then I’ll damn well be sure to return the favor with a dinner at a restaurant later on. For that matter, we could eat out tomorrow, if you want. The casino restaurants will be open.”

  She gazed at him. “No, I think we should cook our own version of Thanksgiving dinner right here, as part of our new declaration of independence from family meddling. We’ll count all our blessings for the life we have, not the one everyone else thinks we should have.” She took a deep breath. “That is, if you want to.”

>   “I do. It’s a great idea.”

  “I like it, too.”

  And she liked him. So far, she liked him better than any man she’d met in a long time. If she were in the market for a serious relationship… But she wasn’t. That was the whole point.

  She probably felt more free and at ease with Mac because she’d decided that marriage wasn’t for her. No pressure. They could discuss this issue without it being a loaded topic. “Have you ever come close to getting married?”

  Mac sipped his wine and stared at the flames licking at the dry wood. “A couple of times, but then other things weren’t right about the relationship. In one case she was determined to make it on Broadway, and neither of us wanted to change our lives to accommodate the other one.”

  “How about the second person?”

  “She was a lot of fun, but not quite what you’d call mature. Eventually I got tired of being the only grown-up in the relationship.” He sighed. “Marriage is a big deal and I’d want to get it right. I guess maybe I’m too picky.”

  “That’s what my family says about me, too.” From the corner of her eye she could see that he was looking at her instead of the fire, so she turned to face him. “But how can you not be picky when the stakes are so high?”

  “That’s what I think, too. But how about you? Ever come close?”

  “I’ve had two different guys propose.”

  “That’s pretty damn close. I mean, usually a guy won’t ask unless he thinks you’re likely to say yes.”

  Beth groaned. “I know, and I felt awful each time because I turned them down.”

  “So I figured.”

  “But I swear, Mac, neither of them listened when I said how much I love my job and how it monopolizes my life. One of them suggested that because I love the hospitality industry I’d make a great hostess when he had to entertain out-of-town clients. He expected me to cut back to part-time so I’d be free to do that.”

  “Marriage shouldn’t be about giving up things you love to do.”

  “No.”

  “But there’s…” He paused to clear his throat. “There’s one small problem with the concept of a happy single life.”

  “What’s that?”

  He took another drink of his wine. “How does sex fit into the plan?” He glanced over at her. “Or are you saying you’re willing to give that up?”

  “I’d rather not.” When she met his gaze, she felt that zing again. It scooted through her body and ignited various significant parts of it. Unless she was mistaken, the feeling was mutual.

  “I don’t want to give it up, either.” After another charged moment, he broke eye contact and stared into the fire, as if realizing they might each need a moment to decide where to go from here.

  Maybe she should drop the subject, which was becoming quite personal. But she found she couldn’t let it go. This was a question she’d wrestled with and never had the chance to discuss with a guy, especially a virile one like Mac. “I mean, we’re both pretty young to be celibate.”

  “I know, but I’m not crazy about one-night stands, and deciding to go beyond that implies a certain level of commitment, doesn’t it?” He looked over at her, his gaze reflecting his uncertainty.

  She swallowed. This discussion was heating up faster than the blaze in the fireplace. “Yes, I suppose, but the commitment can be limited.”

  “Can it, really? In my experience, the more you have sex with someone, the more they start thinking of making the relationship permanent.”

  “I wouldn’t.” Now, how had that popped out? She took a deep breath. “Speaking hypothetically, of course.”

  “Of course.” He studied the fire some more, and drummed his fingers softly against his knee.

  She hoped he hadn’t thought she was propositioning him with her remark. She hadn’t been, but if she tried to explain, it would be even more awkward.

  As she tried to figure out how to reestablish the casual mood they’d enjoyed before they’d started discussing sex, he put his wineglass on the end table and stood.

  “Listen, before I drink more wine or the roads get any worse, I need to make a quick trip to my cabin.”

  “Uh, okay.” She waited for him to tell her why.

  He retrieved his coat from the chair in the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. Keep the pizza hot.”

  Still, she expected him to say what was so important that he had to take care of it immediately. “Do you have a dog?”

  “No.” He headed for the door. “See you soon. My cabin isn’t far.” And then he was gone.

  She stared at the closed door for a long time and tried to figure out what was going on. Most men would have come up with some excuse as to why they were leaving, even if they didn’t want to admit the real reason. Maybe he wasn’t good at making excuses, which was actually kind of refreshing.

  The timer dinged, telling her the pizza was done. She switched off the oven and hoped the pizza wouldn’t dry out while he was gone. He’d said he’d be right back.

  In the meantime, she could work more on her project to embrace her single status. She titled the next section of her notes “Reasons Why I Love Living Alone!!!” Setting down her wineglass, she made a long list. When she got home she’d type it up, print it and frame it to keep her focused.

  CHAPTER THREE

  NOT THE MOST GRACEFUL EXIT in the world, Mac thought as he drove carefully through the snowstorm to his cabin. He knew Beth had been expecting some sort of explanation, but his reasons for leaving were varied and complicated, and he wasn’t prepared to give Beth any of them, at least not until he’d thought things through.

  Although the heater was on, the engine wasn’t warm enough to heat up the cab, which was fine with him. The cold air helped him think, and he needed to think. Because his gut was telling him that, after all these years of dating, all the fix-ups arranged by his parents, he’d just met the woman he was going to marry.

  Which was crazy. He didn’t believe in that kind of instant recognition. He’d known her for—he consulted his watch—less than two hours.

  Amazingly, that didn’t seem to matter. His strong reaction defied all logic, but the longer he was with her, the more certain he became that she was the one he could build a life with.

  And yet that made no sense, considering she was the first woman he’d ever met who seriously didn’t need him. She didn’t need him to make her feel good about herself, and she certainly didn’t need him to take care of her. She might need him in a physical sense, but she’d just finished saying that having sex didn’t necessarily imply a commitment of any kind.

  Parking in front of his cabin, he sat in the cab and took a few deep breaths as he tried to rationalize his crazy response to Beth. She was beautiful. True, but he’d dated beautiful women before without having this instinctive connection.

  The chemistry was there, but he’d felt chemistry before. Maybe not quite this strong, but close.

  He couldn’t remember ever being in such a rush to close the deal and create that ultimate physical connection with a particular woman.

  Maybe it was her self-sufficiency. He enjoyed fixing things for his clients, but what a relief to find someone who didn’t expect him to fix anything. Yeah… Much to his surprise, he was drawn to her independent nature.

  And, he had to admit, she presented a challenge. Maybe by stating that she was totally uninterested in finding a husband, she’d aroused a need in him to prove her wrong. He hoped to hell that wasn’t true. He took the subject of marriage too seriously to make it into a game.

  Not that it mattered now. She probably thought he was a nutcase after he’d blown out of there without an explanation. But he couldn’t exactly blurt out that he’d needed some space to analyze his strong reaction to her.

  And he definitely hadn’t been willing to tell her his other, more practical reason for leaving.

  Their discussion about sex had been going in one direction—toward the bedroom. If Beth asked him to stay the night, h
e wanted to be able to say yes, and that meant being prepared.

  He could be wrong. She might not ask him…but then again, he had been sent over by Jillian Vickers. Jillian knew him pretty well, and her matchmaking efforts were uncannily on target, so chances were, she knew Beth pretty well, too.

  Then he remembered the sociology experiment that Ken and Jillian had going on and groaned. Of course. He and Beth were part of the study. Now, there was a spooky thought. Was everything he was feeling just the cabin mojo screwing with his mind?

  No. He’d rather believe in love at first sight than magic cabins. Ken and Jillian were convinced the cabin had saved their marriage, but Mac thought it more likely that all they’d needed was a secluded spot to concentrate on each other. They could have been in the middle of the Sahara or on top of Mount Rushmore.

  And their renters were discovering romance in the cabin for the same reason—it created a sense of intimacy.

  But that didn’t explain his mind-set. He’d spent time with women in similar cabins, including his own, and never felt this urgent compulsion to bond.

  Still, the Vickers’ cabin was a charmer. Whoever had designed it originally had made the front half open and cheery, with the living room and kitchen blending into each other, and the back half cozy and…yes…romantic, with only one bedroom and one bath opening off it.

  The king-size bed was massive and rustic. Jillian had found a bedspread made out of soft velour. Mac had run his hand over it once and it felt incredible. For the bathroom, Ken had located an oversize claw-foot tub and Mac had installed it as an anniversary present.

  Considering the amenities, not to mention the hot tub on the back porch, Mac could easily see why couples left feeling more loving toward each other than when they’d arrived. He’d mention all that when he explained the experiment to Beth. She deserved to know that they were guinea pigs.

  For now, though, he should head over there before she wondered if he’d run off into a ditch. Leaving the engine running, he navigated around the snowdrifts on his front porch and unlocked the front door. Once inside, he walked quickly to the bathroom and took the box of condoms from the cabinet under the sink. He tucked them into his coat pocket and started to leave.