To Have And To Hold

Callie felt like throwing up. Her business meant everything to her. Her horses, her home. “I didn’t do anything,” she protested.

Linda made a sympathetic face. “Of course you didn’t, love. But I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you had because of that little hellion.” Linda sighed. “That girl’s been nothing but trouble since her—”

The conversation stopped abruptly when the bell pealed and a woman, dressed in a pair of jeans and a vivid orange gauze blouse, walked into the shop. Black hair curled wildly around her face and bright green eyes regarded Callie for a brief moment.

“Hello, Linda,” she said and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the fridges.

“Evie, good to see you. Are you selling at the trunk sale today?” Linda asked.

Her dancing green eyes grew wide. “For sure,” she said and paid her money. “My usual stuff. But if you hear of anyone wanting a big brass bed, let me know. I’m renovating one of the upstairs rooms and it needs to go. Catch you later.”

She hurried from the shop and Linda turned her attention back to Callie.

“That’s Evie Dunn,” Linda explained. “She runs a bed and breakfast along the waterfront. You can’t miss it. It’s the big A-frame place with the monstrous Norfolk pines out the front. She’s an artist and sells all kinds of crafting supplies, too. You should check it out.”

Callie grimaced and then smiled. “I’m not really into handicrafts.”

Linda’s silvery brows shot up. “Noah Preston is her brother.”

Of course. No wonder those green eyes had looked so familiar. Okay, maybe now she was a little interested. Callie grabbed her soda and left the shop. So, he wanted her shut down, did he?

She drove the truck in the car park and leashed Tessa. There were more than thirty cars and stalls set up, and the park was teeming with browsers and buyers. It took Callie about three minutes to find Evie Dunn. The pretty brunette had a small table laid out with craft wares and costume jewelry.

She wandered past once and then navigated around for another look.

“Are you interested in scrapbooking?” Evie Dunn asked on her third walk by.

Callie stalled and eased Tessa to heel. She took a step toward the table and shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Black brows rose sharply. “Are you interested in a big brass bed?”

Callie shook her head. “Ah, I don’t think so.”

Evie planted her hands on her hips. “Then I guess you must be interested in my brother?”

Callie almost hyperventilated. “What do you—”

“You’re Callie, right?” The other woman asked and thrust out her hand. “I saw the name of your riding school on the side of your truck. I’m Evie. Lily told me all about you. You made quite an impression on my niece, which is not an easy feat. From what she told me, I’m certain she still wants you as her riding instructor.”

There was no chance that was going to happen. “I don’t think it’s up to Lily.”

“Made you mad, did he?”

Callie took a step forward and shook her hand. “You could say that.”

Evie, whose face was an amazing mix of vivid color—green eyes and bright cherry lips—stared at her with a thoughtful expression that said she was being thoroughly summed up. “So, about the brass bed?” she asked and smiled. “Would you like to see it?”

Brass bed? Callie shook her head. Hadn’t she already said she wasn’t interested? “I don’t think—”

“You’ll love it,” Evie insisted. “I can take you to look at it now if you like. Help me pack up and we can get going.”

Callie began to protest and then stopped. She was pretty sure they weren’t really talking about a bed. This was Noah Preston’s sister. And because he had quickly become enemy number one, if she had a lick of sense she’d find out everything she could about him and use it to her advantage. If Noah thought she would simply sit back and allow him to ruin her reputation, he could certainly think again. Sandhills Farm was her life. If he wanted a war, she’d give him one.

Chapter Two

Noah didn’t know how to reach out to his angry daughter. He hurt for her. A deep, soul-wrenching hurt that transcended right through to his bones. But what could he do? Her sullen, uncommunicative moods were impossible to read. She skulked around the house with her eyes to the floor, hiding behind her makeup, saying little, determined to disassociate herself from the family he tried so frantically to keep together.

And she pined for the mother who’d abandoned her without a backward glance.

She’d deny it, of course. But Noah knew. It had been more than four years ago. Four and a half long years and they all needed to move on.

Yeah, right … like I’ve moved on?

He liked to think so. Perhaps not the way his parents or sisters thought he should have. But he’d managed to pull together the fractured pieces of the life his ex-wife discarded. He had Preston Marine, the business his grandfather created and which he now ran, his kids, his family and friends. It was enough. More than enough.

Most of the time.

Except for the past twenty-four hours.

Because as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t stop thinking about the extraordinarily beautiful Callie Jones and her glittering blue eyes. And the way she’d planted her hands on her hips. And the sinful way she’d filled out her jeans. For the first time in forever he felt a spark of attraction. More than a spark. It felt like a damned raging inferno, consuming him with its heat.

Noah stacked the dishes he’d washed and dried his hands, then checked his watch. He was due at Evie’s around two o’clock; he’d promised her he’d help shift some furniture. Evie loved rearranging furniture.

Within ten minutes they were on their way. Hayley and Matthew, secured in their booster seats, chatted happily to each other while Jamie sat in the front beside Noah. His one-hundred-and-forty acre farm was only minutes out of Crystal Point and was still considered part of the small town. He’d bought the place a couple of years earlier, for a song of a price, from an elderly couple wanting to retire after farming sugar cane for close to fifty years. The cane was all but gone now, and Noah leased the land to a local farmer who ran cattle.

He dropped speed along The Parade, the long road separating the houses from the shore, and pulled up outside his sister’s home. There was a truck parked across the road, a beat-up blue Ford that looked familiar. He hauled Hayley into his arms, grabbed Matty’s hand and allowed Jamie to seize the knapsack from the backseat and then race on ahead. The kids loved Evie’s garden, with its pond and stone paved walkways, which wound in tracks to a stone wishing well. And Noah kind of liked it, too.

“Look, Daddy … it’s that dog,” Jamie said excitedly, running toward a happy-looking pup tied to a railing near the front veranda.

The dog looked as familiar to him as the truck parked outside. His stomach did a stupid leap.

She’s here? What connection did Callie Jones have to Evie? Before he could protest, Jamie was up the steps, opening the front door and calling his aunt’s name.

Noah found them in the kitchen. Evie was cutting up pineapple and she was sitting at the long scrubbed table, cradling a mug in her hands. She looked up when he entered the room and smiled. A killer smile. A smile with enough kick to knock the breath from his chest. He wondered if she knew she had it, if she were aware how flawless her skin looked or how red and perfectly bowed her lips were. The hat was gone and her brown hair hung over one shoulder in a long braid.

Discomfort raced through him. Noah shifted Hayley on his hip and hung on tightly to Matty’s hand. She looked him over, he looked her over. Something stirred, rumbling through his blood, taunting him a little.

Evie cleared her throat and broke the silence. “Well,” she said. “How about I take the kids outside and you two can … talk?”

Noah didn’t want to talk with her. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to drag himself away.

Callie Jones had walked into his life. And he was screwed.

Callie couldn’t speak. They were twins. Twins. Who looked to be about … four years old?

The same age as Ryan would have been …

She smiled—she wasn’t sure how—and watched him hold the twins with delightful affection. He looked like Father of the Year. And he was, according to his sister. A single dad raising four children. A good man. The best.

A heavy feeling grew in her chest, filling her blood, sharpening her breath.

The children disappeared with Evie, and once they were alone she stood and flicked her braid down her back. He watched every movement, studying her with such open regard she couldn’t stop a flush from rising over her skin.

I shouldn’t want him to look at me like that.

Not this man who had quickly become the enemy.

“I didn’t expect to see you …” he said, then paused. “So soon.”

She inhaled deeply. “I guess you didn’t. Frankly, I didn’t want to see you.”

His green eyes held her captive. “And yet you’re here in my sister’s house?”

Callie tilted her chin. “I’m looking at a bed.”

The word bed quickly stirred up a whole lot of awareness between them. It was bad enough she thought the man was gorgeous—her blasted body had to keep reminding her of the fact!

“A bed?”

“Yes.” Callie took another breath. Longer this time because she needed it. “You know, one of those things to sleep on.”

That got him thinking. “I know what a bed is,” he said quietly. “And what it’s used for.”

I’ll just bet you do!

Callie turned red from her braid to her boots. “But now that I am here, perhaps you’d like to apologize?”

“For what?” He looked stunned.

For being a gorgeous jerk. “For being rude yesterday.”

“Wait just a—”

“And for telling people my school should be closed down.”

“What?”

“Are you denying it? I mean, you threatened me,” she said, and as soon as the words left her mouth she felt ridiculous.

“I did what?”

She didn’t miss the quiet, controlled tone in his voice. Maddeningly in control, she thought. Almost too controlled, as if he was purposefully holding himself together in some calm, collected way to prove he would not, and could not, be provoked.

“You said you’d see that I lost my license,” she explained herself.

He looked at her. “And because of that you think I’ve been saying your school needs to be closed down?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And who did you hear this from?”

Callie felt foolish then. Was she being paranoid listening to small-town gossip? Have I jumped to conclusions? When she didn’t reply he spoke again.

“Local tongues, no doubt. I haven’t said a word to anyone, despite my better judgment.” He cocked a brow. “Perhaps you’ve pissed off someone else.”

Retaliation burned on the end of her tongue. The infamous Callie Jones temper rose up like bile, strangling her throat. “You’re such a jerk!”

He smiled. Smiled. As if he found her incredibly amusing. Callie longed to wipe the grin from his handsome face, to slap her hand across his smooth skin. To touch. To feel. And then, without explanation, something altered inside her. Something altered between them. In an unfathomable moment, everything changed.

He sees me…

She wasn’t sure why she thought it. Why she felt it through to the blood pumping in her veins. But she experienced a strange tightening in her chest, constricting her breath, her movements. Callie didn’t want anyone to see her. Not this man. Especially not this man. This stranger.

But he did. She was sure of it. He sees that I’m a fraud. I can talk a tough line. But I live alone. I work alone. I am alone.

And Noah Preston somehow knew it.

Bells rang in her head. Warning her, telling her to leave and break the incredible eye contact that shimmered like light between them.

“You need to keep a better handle on your daughter.”

“I do?” he said, still smiling.

“She broke the rules,” Callie said pointedly. “And as her parent, that’s your fault, not mine.”

“She broke the rules because you lacked good judgment,” he replied.

Callie scowled, grabbed her keys and headed for the door. “Tell your sister thank you for the coffee.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did I hit a nerve?”

She rounded her shoulders back and turned around. “I’m well aware of my faults. I may not be all wisdom regarding the behavior of teenage girls, but I certainly know plenty about men who are arrogant bullies. You can point as much blame in my direction as you like—but that doesn’t change the facts.”

“I did hit a nerve.”

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

As she left the house and collected Tessa, Callie wasn’t sure she took a breath until she drove off down The Parade.

Noah waited until the front door clicked shut and then inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air. A jerk? Is that what he’d sounded like? He didn’t like that one bit. A protective father, yes. But a jerk? He felt like chasing after her to set her straight.

Evie returned to the kitchen in record time, minus the kids. “They’re watching a DVD,” she said and refilled the kettle. Evie thought caffeine was a sure cure for anything. “So, that went well, did it?”

“Like a root canal.”

“Ouch.” She made a face. “She called you a jerk. And a bully.”

“Eavesdropping, huh?”

She shrugged. “Only a bit. So, who won that battle in this war?” she asked, smiling.

He recognized his sister’s look. “It’s not exactly a war.”

Evie raised a brow. “But you were mad at her, right?”

“Sure.” He let out an impatient breath.

“Well.” Evie stopped her task of making coffee. “You don’t usually get mad at people.”

Noah frowned. “Of course I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Evie said. “Not even your pesky three sisters.”

He shrugged. “Does this conversation have a point?”

“I was just wondering what she did to make you so … uptight?”

“I’m sure she told you what happened,” Noah said, trying to look disinterested and failing.

Evie’s eyes sparkled. “Well … yes, she did. But I want to hear it from you.”

“Why?”

“So I can see if you get the same look on your face that she did.”

“What look?” he asked stupidly.

Evie stopped what she was doing. A tiny smile curved her lips. “That look.”

He shook his head. “You’re imagining things.”

Evie chuckled. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I thought she was … nice.”

Yeah, like a stick of dynamite. “You like everyone.”

Evie laughed out loud. “Ha—you’re not fooling me. You like her.”

“I don’t know her.”

Noah dismissed his sister’s suspicions. If he gave an inch, if he even slightly indicated he had thoughts of Callie Jones in any kind of romantic capacity, she’d be on the telephone to their mother and two other sisters within a heartbeat.

Romance … yeah, right. With four kids, a mortgage and a business to run—women weren’t exactly lining up to take part in his complicated life.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a date. Eight months ago, he thought, vaguely remembering a quiet spoken, divorced mother of two who’d spent the entire evening complaining about her no-good, layabout ex. One date was all they’d had. He’d barely touched her hand. I live like a monk. That wasn’t surprising, though—the fallout from his divorce would have sent any man running to the monastery.

Besides, he didn’t want a hot-tempered, irresponsible woman in his life, did he? No matter how sexy she looked in her jeans. “So, where’s this furniture you want me to move?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he stood.

Evie took the hint that the subject was closed. “One of the upstairs bedrooms,” she said. “I want to paint the walls. I just need the armoire taken out into the hall.”

“Oh, the antique cupboard that weighs a ton? Lucky me. At least this time I’m spared the stairs. Do you remember when Gordon and I first got the thing upstairs?”

Evie smiled, clearly reminiscing, thinking of the husband she’d lost ten years earlier. “And Cameron,” she said. “You were all acting like a bunch of wusses that day, huffing and puffing over one little armoire.”

Noah grunted as they took the stairs. “Damn thing’s made of lead.”

“Wuss,” she teased.

They laughed some more and spent twenty minutes shifting the heaviest piece of furniture on the planet. When he was done, Noah wanted a cold drink and a back rub.

And that idea made him think of Callie Jones and her lovely blue eyes all over again.

“Feel like staying for dinner?” Evie asked once they were back downstairs. “Trevor’s at a study group tonight,” she said of her fifteen-year-old son.

“On a Sunday? The kid’s keen.”

“The kid’s smart,” Evie corrected. “He wants to be an engineer like his favorite uncle.”

Noah smiled. “Not tonight, but thanks. I’ve gotta pick Lily up from the surf club at four. And it’s a school day tomorrow.”

Evie groaned. “God, we’re a boring lot.”

Noah wasn’t going to argue with that. He grabbed the kids’ things and rounded up the twins and Jamie. The kids hugged Evie and she waved them off from the front step.

“And don’t forget the parents are back from their trip on Wednesday,” she reminded him.

“I won’t,” he promised.

“And don’t forget I’ll need your help to move the armoire back into the bedroom in a few days. I’ll call to remind you.”

He smiled. “I won’t forget.”

“And don’t forget to think about why you’re refusing to admit that you’re hot for a certain riding instructor.”

Noah shook his head. “Goodbye, Evie.”

She was still laughing minutes later when he drove off.

Noah headed straight for the surf club. Lily was outside when he pulled up, talking to Cameron. She scowled when she saw him and quickly got into the backseat, squeezing between the twins’ booster seats. Normally, she would have resigned Jamie to the back. But not today. She was clearly still mad with him. Mad that he’d made it impossible for her to go back to Sandhills Farm, at least in her mind.

Noah got out of the pickup and turned his attention to his best friend. “So, Hot Tub, what have you been up to?”

Cameron half-punched him in the shoulder. “Would you stop calling me that?”

Noah grinned at his playboy friend and the unflattering nickname he’d coined years earlier.

“I’ll do my best.” He changed the subject. “Did Lily say anything to you about what happened yesterday?”

Cameron nodded. “You know Lily. I hear the horse lady’s real cute.”

Cute? That’s not how Noah would describe Callie. Cute was a bland word meant for puppies and little girls with pink ribbons in their hair. Beautiful better described Callie Jones, and even that didn’t seem to do her justice. Not textbook pretty, like Margaret, his ex, had been. Callie had a warm, rich kind of beauty. She looked like … the taste of a full-bodied Bordeaux. Or the scent of jasmine on a sultry summer’s evening.

Get a grip. Noah coughed. “I have to get going.”

Minutes later he was back on the road and heading home. By the time they reached the house Noah knew he wanted the truth from Lily. Callie Jones had called him a jerk. If he’d misjudged her like she said, he wanted to know. Lily tried her usual tactic of skipping straight to her bedroom, but he cut her off by the front door, just after the twins and Jamie had made it inside.

“Lily,” he said quietly. “I want to talk to you.”

She pulled her knapsack onto her shoulder and shrugged. “Don’t you mean talk at me?”

He took a deep breath. “Did you ride that horse without permission yesterday?”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you what happened.”

“Was it the truth?”

Lily shrugged. “Sort of.” Her head shot up and she stared at him with eyes outlined in dark, smudgy makeup. “Is she blaming me?”

No, she’s blaming me. And probably rightly so if the look on his daughter’s face was anything to go by. Noah knew instantly that he’d overreacted. Clearly. Stupidly.

Noah suddenly felt like he’d been slapped over the back of the head. I never overreact. So, why her? Evie’s words came back to haunt him.

You like her.

And he did. She’s beautiful, sassy and sexy as hellfire.

But that wasn’t really Callie Jones. It was an act—Noah knew it as surely as he breathed. How he knew he wasn’t sure. Instinct maybe. Something about her reached him, drew him and made him want to know her.

Lily’s eyes grew wider and suspicious. “You’ve seen her again, right?”

He wondered how she’d know that and thought it might be some fledgling female intuition kicking in. “Yes, I have.”

She huffed, a childish sound that reminded him she was just thirteen. “Is she going to give me lessons?”

“I said we’d find you another instructor.”

Lily’s expression was hollow and she flicked her black hair from her eyes. “So, she won’t?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Couldn’t you ask her?”

Good question. He could ask her. Lily wanted her. Lily never wanted anything, never asked him for anything. But she wanted Callie Jones.

“Why is it so important to you to learn from Callie? There are other instructors in town.”

She cast him a scowl. “Yeah, at the big training school in town. It’s full of rich stuck-ups with their push-button ponies.”

“How do you know that?”

She chewed at her bottom lip for a moment and then said, “From school. The Pony Girls all go there.”

Pony girls? Noah felt completely out of touch. “And?”

“The Trents,” Lily explained. “Lisa and Melanieeee. They used to go to her school. She kicked them out a couple of months ago.”

Melanie Trent. Lily’s ex-best friend. And now her nemesis. “Why?”

“They were caught smoking in the stables,” Lily supplied. “Big mistake. Anyway, I know that she lost some of her other students because of it. You know what the Trents are like. They don’t like anyone telling them what to do.”

Noah did know. Sonja Trent, the girls’ mother, had worked reception for him a year earlier. He’d given her the post as a favor when her husband was laid off from his job at the local sugar mill. Two weeks later she left when Noah had made it clear he wasn’t interested in having an affair with her. Sonja was married and unhappy—two good reasons to steer clear of any kind of involvement.

“Did you know she was some big-time rider?” Lily said, bringing Noah back to the present. “Like, I mean, really big time. Like she could have gone to the Olympics or something.”

He tried not to think about the way his heart skipped a beat. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“If she teaches me then I’ll be good at it, too. Better than Melanie. Way better. And maybe then she won’t be so stuck-up and mean to Maddy all the time.”

Maddy Spears was Lily’s new/old best friend. Friends before Melanie had arrived on the scene and broken apart because Maddy was a quiet, sweet kid and not interested in flouting her parents’ wishes by covering her face in makeup or wearing inappropriate clothes.

“I could apologize,” Lily suggested and shrugged her bony shoulders.

That would be a first. Noah nodded slowly. “You could,” he said, although he wasn’t sure it would make any difference to the situation.

“I really want Callie, Dad,” Lily said desperately.

You’re not the only one. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Lily….”

Noah wasn’t sure how to feel about Lily’s desperation to get lessons from Callie. Other than his sisters and mother, Lily hadn’t let another woman into her life since Margaret had walked out.

Neither have I.

Lily didn’t trust easily.

Neither do I.

“We’ll see. Go and get washed up,” he told her. “And maybe later you could help me with dinner?”

She grabbed the screen door and flung it open. “Maybe.”

Her feet had barely crossed the threshold when Noah called her name. She stopped and pivoted on her Doc Martens. “What now?”

“Whoever you have lessons from, you have to follow the rules, okay?”

Her lips curled in a shadow of a smile. “Sure thing, Dad.”

Noah watched his daughter sprint down the hall and disappear into her room with a resounding bang of the door. Okay … now what? But he knew what he had to do. He had to see Callie again. More to the point, he wanted to see her again. And he wondered if they made bigger fools than him.

Callie unhitched the tailgate and took most of the weight as it folded down. Indiana and Titan snorted restlessly, sensing the presence of other horses being unloaded and prepared for the Bellandale Horse Club show that day. Bellandale was a regional city of more than sixty thousand people and the event attracted competitors from many of the smaller surrounding townships.

Fiona Walsh, her friend and student, led both horses off the trailer, and Callie took the geldings in turn and hitched them to the side.

“I’m nervous,” Fiona admitted as she ran her hands down her ivory riding breeches.

Callie unclipped Indiana’s travel rug. “You’ll be fine. This is your first competition—just enjoy the day. You and Titan have worked hard for this.”

Fiona’s carefully secured red hair didn’t budge as she nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll go and get our stalls sorted.”

Callie organized their gear once Fiona disappeared. Both horses were already groomed, braided and ready for tack, and by the time Fiona returned Callie had saddles and bridles adjusted and set. It took thirty minutes to find their allocated stalls, shovel in a layer of fresh sawdust, turn the horses into them and change into their jackets and long riding boots.

Callie’s first event was third on the agenda and once she was dressed and had her competitors number pinned to her jacket she swung into the saddle and headed for the warm-up area. The show grounds were teaming with horses and riders and more spectators than usual, which she put down to the mild October weather. She warmed Indiana up with a few laps around the ring at a slow trot and then a collected canter. She worked through her transitions and practiced simple and flying changes. When she was done she walked Indy toward the main arena and waited for her name to be called.

The dressage test was a relatively simple one, but she gave it her full concentration. This was only her third show in as many months and she wanted to perform well. Indiana, as usual, displayed the skill and proficiency in his movements that had seen him revered by followers of the show circuit when she had been competing years before.

Before it all went wrong.

Before Craig Baxter.

Handsome, charming and successful and twelve years her senior, Craig had been a gifted rider. So gifted, in fact, that Callie often overlooked his moodiness and extreme perfectionism. Because underneath the charm and success, it had always only been about the competition. About results. About being the best.

And nearly four years after his death she still hurt.

It’s better to have loved and lost …

Yeah … sure it was. Callie didn’t believe that for one minute.

Love hurts. And it was off her agenda. Permanently.

What about sex? Is that off the agenda, too?

She’d thought so. But … in the last week she had been thinking about sex. Lots of sex. And all of it with Noah Preston. The kind of sex that had somehow invaded her normally G-rated life and made her have X-rated thoughts. Well, maybe not X-rated—she was still a little too homecoming queen for that. But certainly R-rated …

The announcement of her score startled her out of her erotic thoughts. She bowed her head to acknowledge the judges and left the dressage arena. As she cornered past three other riders waiting for their turn Callie eased Indiana to a halt. Because right there, in front of her, stood the object of all her recent fantasies.