Holly Jacobs - Do You Hear What I Hear?

Josh admitted. “But the rest of it—being with you, being with Meg—it feels right.”

Right for now, Libby was sure, though she didn’t say it. She didn’t want to argue with Josh. As a matter of fact, she didn’t really want to talk at all. Because talking made her worry about how much it would hurt after Christmas, when Josh was gone.

No, she didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think. She just wanted to kiss him.

When she was kissing Josh, she could forget the inner voice that kept whispering that she and her daughter would be heartbroken when he left. While she was in his arms, she could think of nothing but him.

And, for the moment, that had to be enough….

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Miss Mac, Joan McLaughlin, who saw more in me than I saw in myself. You are sorely missed.

And for Allison Lyons

whose input and insight so enriched this story.

can’t remember a time when she didn’t read…and read a lot. Writing her own stories just seemed a natural outgrowth of that love. Reading, writing and chauffeuring kids to and from activities makes for a busy life. But it’s one she wouldn’t trade for any other.

Holly lives in Erie, Pennsylvania, with her husband, four children and a two-hundred-pound Old English mastiff. In her “spare” time, Holly loves hearing from her fans. You can write to her at P.O. Box 11102, Erie, PA 16514-1102.

Dear Reader,

This is my first Silhouette Romance novel, and I’m so pleased to be a part of this great line. Writing stories about love and family is a perfect niche for me. I married my high school sweetheart and we have four wonderful children ranging from college age to grade school. Add to that a two-hundred-pound mastiff, and you may guess that there’s never a dull moment at our house!

Reading has always been a part of my life. When I was in the third grade I read a biography of Helen Keller and knew I’d found a role model. She was a woman who faced hurdles in her life, but she didn’t let them trip her up. No, she overcame them all and triumphed. I can’t tell you how much she inspired me. Incorporating a hearing-impaired character in my first Silhouette Romance novel is a small tribute to her, and to every family who has ever overcome tremendous obstacles.

I hope you enjoy Do You Hear What I Hear? and that you’ll look for my upcoming Silhouette and Harlequin titles.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

“Have you met him?”

“Him who?” Libby McGuiness asked as she measured a section of Mabel’s gray hair on the right side against its counterpart on the left side.

“Your new neighbor,” Mabel said, her exasperation evident in her tone.

“No, I haven’t met him yet, though I met his receptionist and she seemed nice enough.”

“Well, nice isn’t the word I’d use to describe Dr. Gardner. Hunk—now that’s a good description.”

Libby chuckled. Mabel might be a widow pushing seventy, but she had the vitality of someone in her twenties. An acupuncturist who vowed never to retire, Mabel was a vital part of the downtown Erie small business community; more than that, she was a friend—a friend whose main goal in life was finding Libby a man.

“You could use a hunk,” Mabel added.

“A hunk of money, that’s for sure.” Owning her own salon, Snips and Snaps, might be satisfying, but it wasn’t always overly lucrative.

Libby turned the chair a full one hundred and eighty degrees. Satisfied that everything was even and in place, she turned Mabel to the mirror. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” the older woman said, fluffing her new cut. “But then, it always is when you cut my hair. Maybe you should take a look at your new neighbor. He might be perfect, as well.”

“I’m glad you think your hair is perfect, and thanks for the suggestion about the doctor, but I’ll pass. There may be such a thing as a perfect haircut, but there’s no such thing as a perfect man.”

Libby whipped off the cape that covered Mabel, and led her to the register. “Do you want to make your next appointment now?”

“You’re sure about the doctor? I could introduce you.”

Libby chuckled. “I’m absolutely positive.”

Mabel sighed. “Do you have any openings for a wash and style before Thanksgiving?”

Libby checked her appointment book. “I can squeeze you in Wednesday at four-thirty. You’ll be it for the week.”

“You’re a dear. All the kids are coming home for the holiday, and Stacy is bringing her new boyfriend, so I want to look my best.” She handed Libby a twenty. “And speaking of best, maybe you should do something new with your hair before you meet Dr. Hunk.”

“I’m sure I’ll meet our new neighbor, but I don’t plan on meeting him, if you know what I mean. And I know you know what I mean. I like my hair just the way it is,” she said, fingering her long braid. “And I like my life just the way it is, as well. But thanks for the advice.”

Libby pulled Mabel’s change out of the drawer, but the older woman just waved it away. “You keep it, dear. You did a lovely job.”

Mabel’s matchmaking might be blatant, but it was hard to stay annoyed with such a generous, sweet spirit. “Thanks, Mabel. I’ll see you for that wash and style.”

“See you then. And think about what I said.”

Libby tucked the bills into her pocket. The only thinking she planned on thinking about was Meg’s new computer. She’d been saving tips since the beginning of the year for this one special Christmas present. Not just any computer, but something big and fast—something that would put the world at her daughter’s fingertips.

Meg. Yes, that’s all she was going to think about. Meg and Libby were a team, and they didn’t need any man messing up their lives. So Mabel could just keep her hunk.

Libby glanced at her watch. Just another hour until she was home and with Meg. As much as she loved Snips and Snaps, she loved going home to her daughter even more.

Home? Just how was she supposed to get there, Libby thought an hour later as she eyed the green truck with Ohio plates that was butted up against the bumper of her Neon.

How was she supposed to get out of the parallel parking space with no room to maneuver? The idiot who had parked that truck was clearly encroaching on her parking space. It wasn’t her fault that he drove a truck the size of a small tank and had to take up more than his fair share of the parking space.

And look at that—he had about two feet of free space behind him. Couldn’t he at least have given some of it to her?

Libby realized she was mentally referring to her bumper-pusher as a male. Maybe it was sexist, but she’d bet a week’s pay it was a guy. A big-truck-driving, thinks-he’s-macho, parking-space-hogging man.

Libby glanced nervously at her watch. She was going to be late picking Meg up from the Hendersons. Where was a cop when she needed one? The police station was just across the square. There should be one of Erie’s finest somewhere about. This green-truck jerk deserved a ticket.

Better yet, forget the cop. Where was a tow truck?

No one was going to ride to her rescue. She’d just have to call the Hendersons and explain she was trapped until the driver of the red Jeep in front of her, or the idiot green-truck’s driver came out. She hoped it was the truck’s driver. She really wanted to give him a piece of her mind, not that she had much to spare, Meg would have added.