Page 294 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“And no beard either,” Iris said. “I texted Addy and she agreed that the beard was a bad idea. Especiallythisbeard.” She leaned over and pulled a Santa hat out of her bag. “Just the hat.”

“I am not posing nude!” Jack shouted.

Maisie burst into laughter again.

“Ew!” Iris shrieked. “No one asked you to! Gross! You can leave your jeans on, just nothing above the waist except for the hat.” She cringed. “Believe me, I’m not any happier about this than you are.”

Actually, he was plenty happy that he could keep his jeans on, but he was even happier Maisie was agreeing to break with tradition. It was obvious she was mired in her past, and hewanted to help pull her free. Posing for some pictures was an easy price to pay.

He started to unbutton his shirt. “All right, ladies. Let’s get down to business.”

Iris made a gagging sound. “Now I feel like I’m shooting a porno.”

The amusement in Maisie’s eyes suggested she was enjoying every moment of his striptease, and the lust that washed over her face when he slipped off his shirt let him know she remembered seeing him bare-chested. Then her text alert went off and she pulled her phone out of her back pocket, her expression becoming pained as she stared at the screen.

“It’s River. I have to call him.” She hurried out of the room, and Jack wondered what that was about.

Something told him it was nothing good.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SOS

Maisie and River had made a pact that they’d always drop everything and run out to call the other person if they ever texted that acronym. They both took the agreement seriously, and neither of them used it for non-emergent situations. The last use of SOS had been after Beau died. So it didn’t matter that Jack was sitting there shirtless, about to cuddle one of her babies. (God, had Iris peeked into her fantasies?) It also didn’t matter that he and Iris were looking at her like she was nuts. She had to make the call.

She ducked into Beatrice’s empty office, not wanting to see Dustin right now. He’d expect to be patted on the back for his role in arranging things, plus he’d probably want to talk for fifteen minutes, and although she adored Dustin, she didn’t have the time.

Hand shaking a little, she pulled up River’s number and touched it. Beatrice’s chair was comfortable—she’d rejected the somewhat crappy ones Maisie had bought for the shelter and brought in her own—but she couldn’t see her way toward sitting.

“What happened?” she said as soon as he picked up.

He didn’t tease her for starting their phone conversation that way or tell her it wasn’t a big deal. Voice unsteady, he said, “Georgie’s father called me. Me directly, not just Georgie.”

“And?”

“He made it clear he doesn’t intend tolether marry me. He told me in no uncertain terms I’m not good enough for her.”

Anger uncoiled inside of her, sparking all the way down to her toes. “You’re the man who saved his daughter’s brewery. Of course you’re good enough for her. And what the hell is this, the nineteenth century? She doesn’t need his permission and neither do you.”

She actually felt some righteous indignation on Georgie’s behalf. Prescott Buchanan hadn’t only been awful to Jack and Adalia, it would seem—he was an equal opportunity dick.

He barked out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I don’t intend to tell her that part. He doesn’t want her working at the brewery either. He said he’s ready to offer her a role in the family company.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Georgie used to want to work with him. What if she takes it?”

And just like that, Maisie found herself stepping into the role she’d played several months ago: encouraging the man she’d loved to be with someone else. Only this time it didn’t feel like she was speaking through the shards of a broken heart.

“She wouldneverdo that. In fact, you should tell her exactly what he said, because if you do, she’s not going to want him at the engagement dinnerorthe wedding.”

“I can’t do that,” he said. “He’s already hurt her so much. He offered me a lot of money to stand down, and when I said I’d rather die, he told me he could make my life miserable in other ways.”

“River, you’ve got to tell her.”

“It’s too late, Maisie. They’re going to be here in a little over a week. Plus, Aunt Dottie tells me she has a plan for neutralizinghim. She insists she needs to have dinner with him, and it’s the only way he’s ever going to leave us alone.”

Maybe it wasn’t a half-bad idea to let Dottie do whatever she had in mind, but it was strange that she wouldn’t come out and say whatever it was she knew. It wasn’t like her to be so circumspect.

“You sure she’s not just going to put a hex on him?”

He laughed softly, and it sounded real this time, like maybe he was relaxing a little. “That’d show him, all right.”

---