Jill Shalvis - Holiday Hideout - The Thanksgiving Fix / The Christmas Set-Up / The New Year's Deal

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.