Mackinnon 03 - The Bonus Mom by Jennifer Greene Read Free Book Online Page B

and dirt flew on him.” Lilly provided this information.
    Pepper added detail. “My mom wanted white carpeting in the living room. But then she said better not, because Dad would never be allowed in there.”
    “But then she said it didn’t make any difference, because Dad would rather have a beer at the kitchen table than wine at a party.”
    He felt Rosemary glance at him. The girls could never be trusted to not talk a stranger’s ear off, and they had no sense of boundaries for what was off-limits. But their mom was okay to talk about. And the white carpet conversation was nothing weird. Still, he felt her gaze on him, a question in the sudden silence that she never asked.
    That was okay. He finally found a good spot to stop, where a range of young trees struggled for growth on the shade side of the mountain. As far as Whit was concerned, he’d found the site just in time.
    He couldn’t remember being more sexually conscious of a woman in a long time. She was so natural. Earthy. Easy. No airs, no high-heel attitudes. Just pure female.
    She flooded the front seat with estrogen, something tantalizing, alluring.
    So it was a damned good thing he could open the door, pop out and get some bracing cold air in his lungs.
    “Okay, here’s the deal, ladies. We don’t want a perfect tree. We want a hopelessly ugly tree. A tree so weirdly shaped that it probably doesn’t have much chance to survive. That way we’re cutting down a tree that needs a future in our Christmas, because that’s probably the best future it’s got. And small.” He motioned to his shoulder. “No taller than that. And we need two, one for our place, and one for Rosemary’s.”
    “Honest, guys, I’m happy to do this with you, but I don’t really need a tree,” Rosemary said.
    “Yes she does, Dad. She doesn’t have any lights or wreaths or anything at her place. She really needs a tree. Even more than us.”
    “Lilly has spoken,” he said apologetically. “Sorry, but you’re getting a tree.”
    The three peeled out of the car before he even had his door closed. The first tree took the longest to find. It had to be suitably ugly, suitably small. Crooked, not straight, thin in the branches, pitiful. Since Lilly loved every tree, it was tough to make a decision—it was always tough for the girls to agree on anything, and when they finally did, the three females deserted him. While he took the tools from the back of the SUV, they went searching for the second tree.
    It didn’t take long, to cut down the scrawny trunk, wrap a tarp to secure the branches and haul it to the top of the car. By the time he turned around, the girls were nowhere.
    They had to be close. He’d heard them all chattering moments before—Lilly saying, “Darn it, it’s starting to rain.”
    And Rosemary correcting her, “Look up, hon. That’s not rain—it’s white stuff coming down. It’s snow.”
    And then Pepper aiming for high volume, “ Snow! I haven’t seen snow in my whole life!”
    Truthfully, the sky was barely spitting white than offering a true snowfall, but he had to grin, too, at the soft splash of white crystals drifting down. He ambled in the direction of the last conversation he’d heard. They couldn’t have gone far, and he wasn’t remotely worried. If there’d been a bear in a five-mile vicinity, it would have to be an awfully dumb bear. The three thrashing and crashing through the woods could have scared an ogre or worse.
    Still, when he called out, “Rosemary? Lilly and Pep?” there was no answer.
    Seconds later, he found out why. He wove around a cluster of pines, and found a barren patch...where all three were lying on the ground next to each other. All three had closed their eyes. All three had stuck out their tongues.
    They were all trying to catch the taste of a snowflake.
    Damned, if his heart didn’t suddenly start squeezing tight in his chest.
    Zoe, their mom, would never have gone for the tree adventure. She’d have been