Jennifer Greene: The Bonus Mum

A single father and a runaway bride find love—and a new family!—at Christmas in Jennifer Greene’s newest romance, The Bonus Mom!

They’re two strangers...

When widower Whit Cochran meets runaway bride Rosemary MacKinnon, something magical happens. Whit and his twin daughters rented a cabin for Christmas on Rosemary’s Whisper Mountain, and the girls think it’s only right their single dad and the pretty bachelorette spend the holiday together....

...who are a perfect match

Out there in the forest, loneliness turns to love. Rosemary falls for the girls—and their frazzled dad—yet she knows she’ll never replace their late wife and mother. But Whit isn’t leaving without the woman who’s given him back hope. With Christmas approaching, he has only days to prove that together they make a forever family.

He stopped stoking the fire and looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“You came for me.”

She went to him. His expression questioned what she was doing, but she couldn’t answer. She didn’t know what she was doing. For sure, she wasn’t seducing him; her ex-fiancé had erased any aggressive sexual ideas from her head. But Whit…

She’d seen how he looked at her. Knew he’d been celibate since his wife’s death. Knew his girls dominated his time.

But when she put her arms around his neck, a groan escaped him, more primal than a wolf’s cry.

Just like that she knew what Whit wanted for Christmas. And she was the only one who could give it to him.

Dear Reader,

Usually I love to write a reader letter, but this time…well, this is the last book in the Whisper Mountain trilogy about the MacKinnon family, and I confess I’m going to miss them.

This whole trilogy has been a joy to write—from researching wild orchids to vanilla history to the real tea plantation I had a chance to visit. This is Rosemary’s story.… Rosemary is the sister of Ike and Tucker…she’s the one into studying wild orchids, and that’s given her an excuse to live like a hermit on top of the mountain.

Whit—her hero—realizes early on that she has some kind of troubling secret, but he doesn’t care what it is, not once he meets her.

This is a Christmas story that all of my characters dreaded…until they discovered each other, and what “presents” they alone could bring to each other.

Since this was set in South Carolina, I was forced to do a little research about SC’s “dark corner”…which meant I was forced to buy a bottle of Peach Moonshine. I haven’t opened it yet. But I wish you were all here, so we could all try a sip and see what on earth that’s about.

In the meantime…thank you. So many readers have sent me letters or emails about Ike and Tucker (Little Matchmakers and The Baby Bump). You readers keep me going—knowing when you like a book is a wonderful affirmation—and I hope you love this one.

All my best,

Jennifer Greene

The

Bonus Mom

Jennifer Greene

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JENNIFER GREENElives near Lake Michigan with her husband and an assorted menagerie of pets. Michigan State University has honored her as an outstanding woman graduate for her work with women on campus. Jennifer has written more than seventy love stories, for which she has won numerous awards, including four RITA ®Awards from the Romance Writers of America and their Hall of Fame and Lifetime Achievement Awards.

You’re welcome to contact Jennifer through her website at www.jennifergreene.com.

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To the real “Lilly,” who is likely to get a zillion more dedications from me. You’re the light of our lives, sweetheart!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter One

When the oven bell dinged, Rosemary sprinted for the kitchen faster than the sound of a fire alarm. She’d added a ton of amenities to the old MacKinnon lodge in the past six months, but a new stove never made the budget. The temperature gauge in the oven could be downright cantankerous.

This time, thankfully, the old monster behaved. She grabbed a hot pad and pulled out a tray of cream puffs, all swelled up, their surface a golden-brown. Perfect.

While the puffs cooled, she headed outside to cart in an armload of peachwood. Outside, a blustery wind bit her face with needles, but considering it was December 19, Rosemary figured she was lucky. There could be snow or a serious ice storm on top of Whisper Mountain by now. A little wind was nothing.

Back inside, she knelt in front of the massive fieldstone fireplace. The grate already had a huge bed of snapping, orange coals, just needed a stir and a poke and fresh logs. Moments later, she had a sassy crackle of fire back, warming the whole living room.

She stood up and stretched, dusting her hands. The MacKinnons had spent a lot of Christmases here when she was a kid. She couldn’t remember the last holiday when the place hadn’t been a complete wreck. By now, there should be a giant Christmas tree in the corner, already dropping needles. Dusty Santas and holiday tchotchkes should be cluttering every surface. Instead, there was no tree, no winking lights, no tinsel or glitter, no wrapping paper and crushed bows anywhere in sight. The place was fabulously tidy and clean.

Truth to tell...she hated it. She had no problem working alone, being alone. But darn it, at this time of year she loved the chaos, the clutter, the razzle-dazzle, the messes, the feasts and for darned sure, the time with her family.

This year she just couldn’t do it. So...she’d decided to ignore the holiday altogether. She’d work, and when she got sick of work, she planned a heap of silly distractions.

Like wasting time on Judge Judy and old sappy movies.

Like having cream puffs for dinner—with vanilla bean ice cream and hot, dark chocolate sauce. And cherries.

She foraged for a big spoon, and had just pulled the steaming-cold container of ice cream from the freezer when the front door suddenly blasted open. She went to the kitchen doorway, figuring she must not have adequately latched the front door—but that wasn’t the issue at all. Over the wheeze and whistle of wind came the unmistakable sound of screams and cries. Human screams and cries. Girls. Children. Dozens of children, judging from the volume of cries.

She dropped the spoon, dropped the ice cream, peeled out of the kitchen.

There were children. Not a herd of them, just two girls, red-faced and shaking and crying.

They spotted her, and as if identifying a woman was all it took to let go, thundered toward her in a nonstop sputter of tears and words.

“You have to help us! There’s a bear chasing us! A huge grizzly bear! He wants to kill us!”

“He’s right out there. We ran and ran. I ran so hard my side hurt and I still kept going—”

“We didn’t know where we were going. Anywhere. We just had to keep running because it kept coming after us!”