Home To Family

“Matt!” she said on a little gasp of excitement and gripped his arm. “You’re here! You did come after all!”

“Of course I came,” he said, and when she grabbed him close for a hug, he pushed her dark hair away from her cheek and placed his lips against hers. His kiss was quick, friendly and unplanned. But it was nice—because on a cold night like this her lips were warm.

When he pulled away, he grinned at her. “Merry Christmas, Les.”

She angled back a little, and the way she blinked and looked at him said she hadn’t expected that kiss, either. But what the hell? After all these months of watching his life take a frightening and unknown course, her welcoming smile was a real treat.

She was, and always had been, the only woman he could be completely comfortable with. The only woman he had ever trusted with his dreams, his confessions and his secrets. More so than his family, his male buddies, or even the shrink the hospital had forced him to talk to after that awful night.

He felt a loosening inside his chest, as though something had given way, and suddenly he was glad he’d come home for the holidays.

In the golden light, Leslie’s eyes sparkled and gave her skin a lovely glow. She’d let her hair grow long again. It flattered her face. It seemed impossible that he had known her nearly all his life and had never once realized just how pretty she was.

“I’m so glad to see you,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”

“Not half as much as I’ve missed you. You look terrific.”

Difficult to tell in the poor light, but he thought she blushed at that comment. Les had never been comfortable with compliments. He’d always suspected that it came from getting so few of them growing up. Her mother and father had never been demonstrative to their only child. Hell, when it came right down to it, they’d hardly known she existed.

She turned back toward the window. “Everyone will be so glad to see you.”

“Hmmm…Can’t wait,” he offered in a noncommittal tone.

Looking over her shoulder, he peered into Doc’s front parlor. Guests stood in little knots of conversation around the room, laughing, talking, sipping wine. He caught no sign of their host, whom he wanted to speak to before the older man headed off to California. Practical, logical, straight-talking Doc Hayward had been the one to guide Matt through every step of med school. He’d know what to make of the mess Matt’s life had become.

But passing time with everyone else in there? The thought made Matt’s head ache, made his lungs feel as though a band of steel encased them.

“Who’s here?” he asked.

“The usual crowd.”

“I see Ellis Hughes. And there’s Chad Pilcher. What’s he looking so sour about?”

“Felicia took him back to court. The judge increased his alimony.”

Matt let his gaze drift to another pocket of guests. “Tom Faraday’s gained weight.”

Leslie nodded. “Doc put him on a strict diet last summer, but so far he’s still fighting it.”

A statuesque blonde with a figure that had clearly been enhanced by something other than nature passed in front of the window. As first, Matt didn’t recognize her. Then he gasped. “Good Lord, is that Stacey Merrick? What did she do to herself? She looks fantastic.”

Stacey could be a first-class witch, and he remembered that she and Leslie had never been friends. Not surprisingly, Leslie made a disgusted sound. “She says it’s because she’s found inner peace, but her husband let the cat out of the bag. Dale’s complaining that she spent thirty thousand dollars of his hard-earned money getting nipped and tucked.”

“Thirty thousand! Damn, I knew I went into the wrong field of medicine.” He spotted his brother Nick in a corner alcove and was shocked to see him nuzzling the neck of his wife, whose eyes were closed in pure delight. That kind of behavior from Nick surprised him. “I see my big brother’s gotten drunk.”

“What makes you say that?” Leslie asked, with a frown in her voice.

“He’d die before indulging in a public display of affection.”

Leslie glance back at him, laughing. “He’s in love, silly.”

Conceding that love made people do crazy things, Matt moved on, catching sight of his sister talking to a tall, handsome fellow he didn’t recognize. Most of the men inside wore casual clothes, but this guy had on a suit that hadn’t come off any department-store rack. Neither of Matt’s parents had mentioned a new man in Adriana’s life.

“Who’s the blond Romeo talking to Addy? He’s better-looking than Stacey Merrick.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Don’t tell me he’s the new man in her life.”

“No.” Again, she looked back over her shoulder at him. This time, she smiled broadly. “Actually, he’s the new man in my life. Perry Jamison.”

He couldn’t help jerking upright suddenly. In the old days, Leslie had hardly dated, and when he thought of her recently, for some reason he never envisioned her with anyone. He shook his head. “He’s not your date.”

She scowled at him. “Why? Don’t you think I can attract someone that good-looking?”

She sounded a little hurt, and Matt realized he’d made a mistake.

“Of course you can,” he said quickly. He lifted a strand of dark hair off her shoulder, rubbing it between his fingers. It felt like silk. “I just meant he doesn’t strike me as your type.”

“I don’t have a type.”

“Sure you do,” Matt told her with a smile. “Every woman is drawn to a man for very specific reasons. Whether or not she understands exactly what those reasons are…” He jerked his head toward the window. “So what’s he offering?”

“He’s attentive and treats me well. Comes from one of the founding families of Colorado—”

“God, a blueblood.”

“Good breeding is important.”

“If you’re a poodle at the Westminster Kennel Club.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “He’s confident. Has money. Power—”

“But you’re not completely sold on him yet.”

“What makes you think that?” she asked sharply, her head tilting to give him a close look.

“Because if you were, you’d be in there by his side instead of out here keeping me company.”

He let go of her hair, swinging his gaze back to the parlor. The guy laughed at something Addy said. Matt recognized that sort of false, patronizing good humor, the kind of focused attention that most women seemed to crave. He’d used that trick often enough himself.

“What’s the matter?” Leslie asked.

He realized he was frowning, but frankly he was disappointed at Leslie’s choice. “You can do better than that pompous ass.”

She stared at him, open-mouthed. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know him all right. And I don’t like him.”