A MacKenzie Christmas Read online

  Novels By Liliana Hart

  Whiskey Rebellion

  Whiskey Sour

  Whiskey For Breakfast

  Dirty Little Secrets

  A Dirty Shame

  Dirty Rotten Scoundrel

  Paradise Disguised

  All About Eve

  Catch Me if You Can

  Cade

  Shadows and Silk

  Secrets and Satin

  Sins and Scarlet Lace

  Kill Shot

  Breath of Fire

  Novellas

  Dane

  Thomas

  Riley

  Cooper

  The Madam Duchess

  Who’s Riding Red?

  The Adventures of Goldilocks & The Three Behrs

  Dominating Gracie

  Double Jeopardy

  CHAPTER ONE

  Grant MacKenzie loved his family. Really, he did. It’s just that there were so damned many of them. Everywhere he turned, there was another MacKenzie in his path for him to trip over.

  The entire family was crammed into the old MacKenzie farmhouse for the holidays. The house had been built by his great-grandfather—a sprawling space that was added onto with every generation, so it resembled a patchwork quilt of wood and stone, the rooms jutting out at varying angles.

  Despite the disjointed construction, it was a house filled with laughter and love and memories that had endured for over a century. In fact, Grant had spent more time at the MacKenzie farmhouse growing up than he had at his own home just down the lane. His uncle had been the elder of the two MacKenzie brothers, so the house had gone to him, and then when he’d passed on the house had gone to his sons. Grant’s cousin, Thomas, currently lived there with his wife and two children, and Thomas used one part of the house for his medical practice. Considering Thomas was the only doctor in the tiny town of Surrender, Montana, the house always gave the impression that it was ready to burst at the seams.

  Grant considered himself a tolerant kind of guy. But enough was enough. He hadn’t had fifteen minutes to himself in the last week since school had gotten out and his nephews and nieces had been underfoot. He’d exhausted every avenue of entertainment he could possibly think of—sledding, ice skating, taking the kids to get sundaes at Bledsoe’s Ice Cream and Sandwich Shoppe, and they’d played so many video games his eyes were starting to cross. He loved being the “favorite” uncle, but if he didn’t get out of this place soon he was going to lose his mind. It seemed like every MacKenzie in the house had something to say or argue about. And they all had to do it at top volume.

  His four cousins, Dane, Thomas, Riley and Cooper, all had wives and what seemed like a new child every time he turned around. He’d lost count of his nieces and nephews. His aunt and uncle had both passed away some years ago, but that side of the MacKenzie branch was in no danger of dying out. His own side of the MacKenzie family tree was another story.

  All three of his brothers cringed at the thought of marriage. Part of that was because their mother had been devastated by their father’s death, and they didn’t think the heartbreak was worth getting that close to anyone.

  The other reason his brothers didn’t want to get married was that they just weren’t ready, even though Cade, who was the oldest, was a couple of years past thirty. Not to mention the professions they’d chosen didn’t exactly lend themselves to long, stable relationships. Cade was a former DEA agent and had just taken a job as a detective for the Fort Worth police department. Shane was a Navy Seal, and he was out of the country more months of the year than he was in it. And no one knew what the hell it was that Declan did. Though it was obvious he and Shane had worked on jobs together in the past, so Grant assumed he worked for some faction of the government.

  And then there was his youngest sister, Darcy. Just the thought of her strong-arming some poor man into marriage gave him chills. She was wild and reckless, and she’d need someone with a firm hand and the patience of Job to keep her under control. He thanked God every day that it wouldn’t be his problem. And since she was only twenty-four he figured she still had some growing up to do before she settled down.

  The crash of furniture and a war whoop echoed from the next room, and his nephews turned up the TV a little louder to compensate for the noise. His head was pounding, and he’d never needed a beer more. Grant was used to the commotion after all these years, but there was a reason he chose to live in the little house he’d built, secluded from the rest of the town—and better yet, the rest of the MacKenzies.

  “I’m officially declaring myself as Mario Kart champion,” he said to his nephews. “There’s nothing more I can accomplish here, and a man needs a challenge every once in a while. It gets wearisome stomping you guys into dust.”

  He was met with a chorus of snickers and scoffs from his nephews. “Whatever—In your dreams, Uncle Grant.”

  “I’ll play again when you boys decide to bring your A game,” he said with a wink. “I’d be ashamed to call myself MacKenzie if I were you. I’m handing the reins over to Jack here so he can redeem the next generation.”

  Grant relinquished the video game controller to his cousin Riley’s four year old son, who was tangled around his neck like a monkey. He unbent his tall, lanky frame from the floor and stretched muscles that had cramped from sitting in one spot too long. He needed a good run, or something else to get the blood flowing and his muscles warmed.

  “Do me proud, son, and kick some butt.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Grant,” Jack said, his chubby fingers already working the controller.

  His cousins had all settled down over the past few years. Even Cooper, the one man who Grant thought would never be able to give himself to one woman. But Coop had proven them all wrong and married a woman he would move the moon and stars for, which just went to prove that there was someone for everyone.

  “Ahh, fresh meat,” his brother Cade called out as he shuffled a deck of cards with easy practice. He clamped a cigar between his teeth and gave Grant a challenging smile. “We were just about to deal a new hand. I’ve taken all the money I can from these losers.”

  Declan sat next to Cade with nothing more than a few quarters on the table in front of him and a scowl on his face, and Shane and Riley sat on the opposite side, having nothing more to show for their success than peanut shells and empty beer bottles.

  “It looks like Darcy’s doing well enough. Why don’t you take her money?” Grant said, glancing at the tall stacks of quarters and the small pile of dollar bills in front of her.

  “Yeah, Cade. Why don’t you take my money?” She shook back a loose tangle of black hair and laughed. “I’m sure he’d be happy to bleed me dry if he could beat me,” she said, winking at Grant. “Some of us are more interested in talking a good game rather than playing a good game. Ante up, MacKenzie. Put your money where your mouth is.”

  The rest of them hooted in laughter, and Cade got that competitive look in his eyes that Grant knew meant trouble. Darcy was no wilting flower, that was for sure, but she could hold her own. She’d bloodied plenty of noses as a child—mostly theirs—she’d had to with four older brothers.

  Darcy and Cade started a string of trash talking that would make their mother box their ears if she heard what was being said. Grant decided to escape before Mary MacKenzie showed up and did just that. Their mom had a way of knowing when her children weren’t doing what they were supposed to.

  He snagged another beer from the ice chest and weaved in and out of running children, a cat, and two dogs until he got to the kitchen. All of his cousins' wives and his mother were gathered around the big island in the center of the room, trying to decide the best way to get a twenty pound turkey in the oven.

  “Just the ma
n we were looking for,” his mother said with a devious smile.

  “I seriously doubt that,” Grant said. “I have a feeling I’m just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Do you need me to unstop the toilet? Replace shingles on the roof? Do I need to replace the towel bar again in Charlie’s bathroom? It’s always something in this family.”

  Charlie blushed crimson and put her hands on her hips, the glint in her eyes dangerous, while the other women started to laugh. Charlie was married to his cousin Dane, and they’d once used the towel bar in their bathroom a little too rigorously during some naked water games, and the bar had ripped out from the wall. Since Grant had his own construction company and was the handiest with tools, he was the one the family always called on to repair things. And there had been no way he was going to keep that story to himself after seeing the damage they’d done. He’d laughed himself silly at the giant holes in the wall and the two black eyes Dane had sported, since apparently the force of Charlie pulling it from the wall had whacked Dane right across the nose.

  “Shut up, Grant. You promised you wouldn’t bring it up again.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure I never promised that,” he said, looking completely innocent as he bent to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I promised I’d never tell anyone how you got that hole in the sheetrock of your laundry room.”

  “Ooh, tell us! Tell us!” Cat, Thomas’s wife pleaded. “I always wondered how that happened. It was a really big hole.”

  “It’s a miracle that house isn’t lying in a heap of rubble around them,” Riley’s wife, Maggie said, rubbing her very pregnant belly.

  They didn’t bother to hide the laughter this time at Charlotte’s expense.

  “Grant MacKenzie, look what you’ve started. You stop embarrassing Charlotte right this instant,” his mother admonished, fighting her own laughter. “Help us get this turkey in the oven and then get out of the kitchen.”

  “You know, sometimes a guy gets tired of being objectified for his brawn. I need some respect around here. I’ve got brains too.”

  “Yes, dear, I know.” his mother said indulgently. “But women never get tired of seeing the ripple of muscles, even if they do belong to family.”

  Grant rolled his eyes and heaved the massive turkey into the oven, glad that he was in good shape. There was no way that bird weighed twenty pounds. More like fifty. His female relatives broke into applause and then promptly went back to orchestrating a dinner for twenty-seven people. He took the moment of their distraction to grab his leather jacket and scarf and escape out the kitchen door before they could find something else for him to do. It wasn’t until he got outdoors that he realized he’d left his beer on the kitchen counter.

  “It’s just not worth going back for,” he muttered, shuddering at the thought.

  Fresh snow crunched underfoot as he walked down the sloping back yard into the trees behind the house. Winter hadn’t been kind to Surrender that year, and it was far from over. Already the grey clouds were pregnant and ready to burst with the next round of fat white flakes.

  The entire family would be sleeping under one roof that night so they could wake up together on Christmas morning (the kids were told that it was easier for Santa to make one stop), so there was no need for him to worry that anyone would be stuck out in the storm.

  The late afternoon sunlight was fading, and he lifted his face up, so the cold slapped at his cheeks, and inhaled the brittle air deep into his lungs. He loved this time of year. The beauty the snow brought to the land—the hushed quiet as it blanketed bare branches and the empty fields where farmers would plant come the spring and let their cattle and horses graze.

  There was no purpose to his steps as he hopped over fallen branches that had snapped off the trees from the cold. He didn’t know exactly where he was going or the heavy need inside of him to get there quickly. He just knew he needed to escape for a little while. To be alone inside his head.

  He’d always felt at home in Surrender. Settled. He’d had no dreams or desires to ever leave the town he was born in or travel the world—unlike his cousins. They’d all left at some point to go to school or find jobs, and yeah, they had come back to raise their families, but they’d had that one taste of freedom before committing themselves to staying home.

  His brothers and Darcy were no better. Cade was headed to Texas, and Declan and Shane were only ever in Surrender long enough to catch a quick night’s rest before they were off again. And Darcy was working on her Master’s Degree in business. She didn’t know what she wanted to do with it yet, but she knew whatever it was wouldn’t be in Surrender. She couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  But not Grant. He was completely happy where he was. He loved his home, and he’d built his company from the ground up and had a steady business that had been in the black for the last six years. But he was looking for more. What made him the most different from his siblings is that he wasn’t shying away from marriage at all. In fact, he was actively looking for someone to spend his life with. Someone he could come home to and share a quiet evening with. Someone he could be comfortable with. Peace and contentment were something he knew most people never really achieved in their lives, but he was determined.

  No, the thought of marriage didn’t have him running at all. It sounded…nice. He could find a sweet, intelligent woman he could have meaningful conversations with. She would be pleasant to look at, give him children and be every man’s dream at night when the lights went out. It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone to fit his expectations.

  The only problem was that this was Surrender. He knew every person in the tiny town, warts and all, and the only woman he could think of who fit his ideal was completely unsuitable. Annabeth Martin had been running around the MacKenzie house since she was a little girl, and she and Darcy had been thick as thieves for most of their lives. But it hadn’t been until recently that he’d found himself watching Annabeth—the way her flame bright hair looked hot to the touch or the way the lush curves of her body fit just right in the stylish clothes she wore. He’d woken up more than one night in a cold sweat with the images of Annabeth lying soft and warm beneath him as he rocked into her burned into his brain.

  In fact, it had gotten so bad that he’d taken to avoiding her whenever he saw her in town or when she was at the house visiting Darcy. Annabeth might be starring in his dreams, but she was six years younger than he was and seemed anything but ready to settle down with a husband and family. She hung out with Darcy for Christ’s sake, and Grant could only assume that Annabeth was as wild and untamed as his sister, though she’d always seemed the shyer of the two.

  He’d seen the way the other young men in town had started to pant after her. The way she’d give them a friendly smile and never show interest in one particular man, only making them all want her more. Grant had never heard whispers about her from the town gossips, but he couldn’t imagine that she didn’t entertain her fair share of interested men. She had a body made for loving, and just the thought of her with some nameless, faceless man had his hands clenching in fists at his sides.

  No, Annabeth Martin was still sowing wild oats and was a long way off from wanting the same things he did. Since there were no other women in town he had an interest in, he had no choice but to leave town. Not permanently, but just long enough to find the right woman and then move back home.

  Grant rubbed a hand over his stomach at the thought of moving away, even for a short time. His business was doing well enough that he could open another office in one of the bigger cities. Surely he could fall in love in a few months, and then be back home before the end of summer. It’s not like leaving was permanent.

  The thought of his mother finding out that he was about to approach marriage in such a cut and dried way made him grimace. He knew exactly what she’d say, because they’d had the talk before.

  “Grant,” she’d said. “You can’t plan falling in love. It’ll happen when you least expect it. And of all my children, I’m
not sure there’s anyone who needs to be knocked upside the head by Cupid more. Love isn’t something you can plan or map out like one of your building projects. I’m afraid you’re in for a rude awakening one day, my love.”

  Which was all fine and good, but he didn’t want to wait for one day. He was ready for it to happen now. He was thirty years old, he was healthy and he was solvent. He was just tired of spending his nights alone. No one, not even his mother, could begrudge him a little happiness.

  After a two mile walk, his heart was pumping and his muscles were warm despite the cold. His breath puffed out in white clouds as he exited out the other side of the trees into a small clearing. The lake was frozen and the last rays of sunlight gleamed off the icy surface. It was less than a mile to his little cabin through the trees on the back side of the lake, and he debated whether or not he should head back to the MacKenzie house and bedlam, or crash on his couch with some bids he’d been working on for the next couple of hours.

  All his plans changed when he heard the crack of ice that echoed like a gunshot through the air. He hadn’t noticed her when he’d glanced at the lake, the sun casting her in shadow. They locked eyes in shock and fear as another crack rent the air. Her face was pale and her flame colored hair seemed brighter than usual with the backdrop of white.

  “Annabeth,” he said, running toward the edge of the lake, his heart in his throat. “Don’t move a muscle.”

  She barely had time to scream before she fell through to the icy waters below.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Annabeth Martin never thought of Christmas as anything more than another day of the week. Her parents had died in a car crash when she was thirteen the week before Christmas, and the only family she’d had left was a great aunt that made Ebenezer Scrooge look like a spendthrift.

  So after her thirteenth year, Christmas had ceased to exist. There were no gifts, no decorations and no big family dinners. And when her aunt had died the month after she’d graduated from high school, she saw no reason to keep doing anything differently. Christmas only meant something to the people who had someone to share it with. She didn’t believe in it, and she certainly didn’t hold stock to the miracles people and songs were always going on about.