Midnight Kiss (Virgin River #12)(29)

Jordan’s eyes widened at her friend’s icy tone. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t come. She always counted on Marly’s warm nature and usually felt right at home with her family, but today…everything felt wrong. And having the big Irishman lurking… Holidays gave her the willies at the best of times. This wasn’t one of them.

As she yanked on the stubborn latch of the ice chest, Jordan broke a nail down to the quick. She swore darkly and sucked on her finger.

“Is that any way for a lady to talk?”

Jordan whirled around, face-to-handsome-face with the last man on earth she wanted to be near. “I’m no lady. Anyway, you shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

“I had no mind to scare you. Would you be needing some help?”

“I’m doing fine, thank you.” She dropped her injured finger to her side.

“So I see. Let me take a look at that.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “I’m Will Masterson.”

She stuck her own hand behind her back. “I know who you are. Marly’s playing matchmaker again, you do realize.”

“Me? With you?” His eyes rounded.

“You don’t have to sound so insulted. You’re not my type, either, just so you know.”

“Certain of that already?”

“You’re not?”

“You’re one to make snap judgments, are you?”

She shrugged. “Saves time.”

He flashed a bright smile. “And clearly you’d like me to go away. Are you always so prickly or is it Marly’s intentions that have put the burr up your lovely behind?”

“It’s my behind, and I’ll thank you not to be watching it.”

A lovely low rumble shook him. “Now, I’m thinking any man with eyes could not possibly accommodate that demand, begging your pardon. It’s a very fine derriere, and I suspect you know that.”

His blue eyes twinkled with amusement that only irritated her more. “Well then, why don’t you open this big ole ice chest for li’l ole me?” She batted her lashes. “Marly needs more ice inside.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with his rumbling laughter, his cheeks denting with dimples. He leaned past her and picked up the chest as though it weighed nothing. “Why, of course, darlin’,” he answered in falsetto. “Just tell this poor dumb mick where you’d be wanting it.” The gleam in his eyes said he knew her game but he was too good-natured to mind.

Jordan narrowed her gaze, then stuck her nose in the air and sauntered inside. She’d make it through the meal, then she was history.

Marly, what the devil were you thinking?

WILL SURVEYED the group numbering nearly thirty scattered around the huge dining table and assorted card tables strung into one long banquet. He rose from his seat, wineglass in hand. “To Marly, who brings new meaning to the words domestic goddess.”

“Hear, hear,” replied David. “Best of all, my domestic goddess.” He bent to his wife and gave her a lingering kiss. Marly blushed and looked away.

“Get a room, you two. There are innocent children present,” Jordan teased from her place beside Will.

The eldest Preston boy, fifteen-year-old Davy, stared at Jordan adoringly. He and twelve-year-old Joseph seemed to think the lady lawyer was hot. Will couldn’t disagree—if, that is, one had a self-destructive bent. She was a skinny, bad-tempered siren, and if for a moment as she’d watched him sing, he’d thought he’d seen something in her…

He had more regard for himself, that fine derriere notwithstanding.

“They do that stuff all the time, Jordan—you know that,” Sam piped up. “We just ignore them.”

The assembled group rang with laughter.

“Do you have Thanksgiving in Ireland, Will?” asked Sarah.

“No, darlin’, we lack the essential ingredients—Pilgrims and the native tribes. A pity, I’m thinking. I have to admit that my first experience with Thanksgiving was a revelation, though never have I had these foods prepared more deliciously than today.”

Jordan stirred. “I agree, but I have no idea why you put yourself through this, Marly. You cook for three days, and in forty-five minutes, it’s demolished. What’s the point?”

Marly shrugged. “A woman’s lot in life.”

“Not this woman,” Jordan muttered.

Will glanced to see if Marly had heard. “Must you?” he asked Jordan, keeping his voice low.

“What?”

“Your cynicism is misplaced here.”

She arched one eyebrow. “Marly’s used to it.”

“You do her no service.”

“Where do you get off, telling me what I can and can’t say to my friend?” she whispered furiously.

“Some friend you are, but we’ll discuss this later.” They were beginning to draw attention.

“We won’t speak at all, if I have any say.” Jordan turned to the middle Preston son, Joseph, on her other side. The boy was clearly smitten with her.

She said not another word to Will as the meal wound down. He was inclined to be grateful. Her short spiky black hair was as sharp as her attitude, and she was rude to boot.

She was surely wrong about Marly’s intentions. Marly wouldn’t do such a thing to him. Jordan couldn’t be further from the woman of his dreams.