The Kissing Season

Without glancing up, he said, “Why do you want to know? Planning to stalk me?”

“Uhh, no. I need it to give to the delivery driver.”

Damn. He closed his eyes as he cursed silently and wondered where the hell he’d misplaced his cool. He didn’t usually use such shocking lines. “Wishful thinking, I guess.” And it was best to move on quickly from such a low point. “I’ve just bought a place on the beach.” He rattled off the address of an old shack that had been renovated to look like something out of movie set. His mum had always dreamed of living somewhere that overlooked the Indian Ocean, but her deadbeat husband would never have managed to scrape together the dough. He’d barely left her enough to cover the costs of his funeral.

“Ahh, I think I know it. Pretty place.”

Something the house and you have in common. Luckily he managed to bite his tongue before he looked the fool. Who said things like that? Certainly not him. Was it because this cute girl had turned him down so flatly, without any hesitation? He tried to recall a time where any woman had been so hasty to reject him but came up blank. “Yes, it is. Have you lived here long?”

Although he’d grown up in small town Wildwood Point, he’d lived with his father in Melbourne as a teenager and hadn’t been back much in the last decade. His job kept him busy and on the move; at least that was the excuse he’d always given his family. Now that his wicked stepfather was gone, he might manage to make it home a lot more often.

“All my life.” Her tone suggested this was some kind of punishment. “Although I’ve been traveling the past few years and have only come back home recently.”

“Ah...a kindred spirit.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively at her. “You see, we already have something in common and if you promise to come out to dinner with me tonight, we’ll never run out of conversation.”

“I’m busy tonight.” She took his receipt off the printer, folded it and slipped it inside an Elliot’s envelope.

“Tomorrow night then?” This was the closest he’d ever come to begging for a date.

She looked at him as if he’d grown another head and she didn’t want to kiss that one either. “This is the week before Christmas. Sorry. I’m all booked up.”

“You really don’t want to go out with me, do you?” he asked, unable to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

“Nope, I really don’t.”

The blink of her eyes told him otherwise and Matteo decided then and there, if he did nothing else while home for Christmas, he’d succeed in getting this particular girl into bed.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_75c5a96b-27a9-5802-b41e-9906074bdc47)

HAVING SPENT A month’s wages on furniture for his mother’s Christmas present and unable to get that cute saleslady out of his head, Matt headed back to his mother’s to see if he could take her mind off her recently departed husband. He stepped into the near-derelict house and immediately wiped his hand across his sweating brow—it was hot outside, but practically a sauna in here.

“Mum,” he called, traipsing through the house. He found her in the kitchen pulling a tray of biscuits out of the oven. “Haven’t you heard of air-conditioning?”

She smiled up at him, but it was only a fraction of the smile she once wore. “AC costs money, my darling. And it’s not that hot. Now that I’ve turned the oven off, it’ll cool right down.”

He raised an eyebrow, thinking it’d be a good few hours before the ocean breeze started cooling anything, but she spoke before he could voice this concern.

“Any sign of the Two Cs yet?”

“No.” Cate and Claire, his younger half sisters, were supposed to be coming home from Perth for Christmas to help him cheer Mum up after losing their father midway through the year, but they’d been unclear as to when they were actually going to show. This was her first Christmas without her husband since she’d married him when Matt was a kid, and his first Christmas in the beautiful Margaret River wine region in about a decade. This was not a coincidence. Usually he spent Christmas in some hotel room, nothing but the television for company or, if he was lucky, an eager female tourist. This year was gonna be a whole other story.

“What have you been up to this morning?” his mum asked.

“Just took a stroll down the main street. Checking out all the new shops and stuff.” In the time he’d been away, Wildwood Point had gone from being the town everyone rushed through on their way to the more popular spots of Busselton, Dunsborough and Yallingup to a place celebrated in its own right. It had to have doubled in population and there were all these cutesy shops and cafés there now.

“See anything you like?”

Oh yeah, something I like very much indeed. He shrugged. “A couple of things.”

“Run into anyone you know?” she asked as she started placing her Christmas cookies on a cooling rack. There was a hopeful tone in her voice—he knew she’d love him to settle back in Wildwood Point. Unfortunately that wish was never going to come true.

“Not this time.” Truth was he’d lost contact with all the boys he’d gone to school with long ago and he doubted many of them were still in town. He didn’t want to tell her why he’d gone into Elliot’s Emporium, but he wanted to quiz her about the saleswoman. “Although I looked in the window at Elliot’s Emporium. There looked to be some great stuff in there.” Stuff, woman...

“Oh, there is.” She wiped her hands on her apron and plonked down on a kitchen chair. “I’ve been cleaning for the Elliots a couple of years now and their house is gorgeous. It’s a historic homestead and Emily Elliot has decorated it accordingly. The decor is amazing and their furniture so beautifully handcrafted. I’m always saying they should open a tearoom there but they have their hands full with the emporium.”

“You clean for the Elliots?” He hated the thought of her having to clean for anyone and he wished like hell she’d accept some of his money. On the other hand, at least he knew she’d love the items he’d chosen.

“Yes.” Her smile glowed. “Lovely family.”

“Don’t suppose you know any of their salesgirls?”

“You wouldn’t be talking about Hannah, would you?”

“Maybe? This girl was pint-sized, had masses of brown, curly hair and a dimple in one cheek.”

“Yes, that’s Hannah Elliot. Emily and Ron’s only daughter.” A frown erased her smile. “Put her out of your mind, Matteo. She’s just returned home after a terrible ordeal and she doesn’t need the likes of you breaking her heart.”

“Mum! I’m insulted.” He didn’t break women’s hearts. He made sure that whoever he seduced knew the score, that he was with them for a wild time, not a long one. And he made sure he gave them a wild time, so he never had any complaints.

“Oh, sweet cakes, you know I love you, but you have your father’s Casanova ways and that girl needs someone stable in her life. The Elliots are very worried about her.”

“What kind of ordeal?” he found himself asking.

She sighed. “Now don’t you go spreading this around. You know how things are in small towns so I want—”

Holding his hands up, he interrupted. “Who am I going to tell?”

This seemed to be enough assurance for her, or perhaps she just wanted to tell him so he’d stay clear. Either way, he leaned back in his chair and settled back to listen to Hannah’s story.

“I thought people marrying strangers in Vegas was the thing of bad telemovies.” His mum finished her story after about half an hour. “But apparently it actually happens in real life too.”

“Wow.” Matt had met a lot of people on his travels but he couldn’t recall anyone who’d actually been married by an Elvis impersonator on a whim in Vegas. The Elliots and his mum believed it proved Hannah flighty and irresponsible. He thought she sounded adventurous—a girl who wanted to escape the constrictions of small-town life and just happened to get unlucky. “That accounts for her demeanor then.”

“Was she glum, poor girl?” His mum shook her head sadly. “When Cate and Claire arrive I’ll be sure to take them down to the shop and introduce them. Did I mention that the Elliots invited us over for Christmas lunch as well?”

“No, you didn’t.” Normally the idea of spending Christmas with someone else’s family wouldn’t have garnered any enthusiasm on his part, but this particular family had something more to offer than corny Christmas cheer. They had Hannah. Imagining her face when she found out he’d be spending Christmas day at her place, he chuckled.

“So you can see why I want you to stay away from her,” his mum warned.

“Yes. Sure.” But Matt was very careful not to make any promises. There were two ways to look at Hannah’s situation. Either she was the marrying kind and would be looking to hook another husband in the not too distant future, or the jerk in Vegas had turned her completely off men. Judging by the way she’d put him in his place, he figured the latter, and that meant seducing her would be all the more fun.

He had no qualms about being the rebound guy who helped sexy Hannah mend her broken and bitter heart.

“I was thinking we could go see the Christmas movie at the Memorial Hall tonight. There’s a different one on every night this week,” his mum announced, an obvious attempt at changing the subject. “Tourists from Yallingup and Dunsborough have been venturing in and I’ve heard it’s a fun night.”

He couldn’t hide his grimace. “What’s showing?”

“How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” She beamed and he thought maybe her grief had gone to her head. He could think of a zillion things he’d rather do than sit in the stifling hot town hall on plastic chairs, surrounded by overexcited kids watching a Dr. Seuss film—that date with Hannah topping the list. But he loved his Mum, and Hannah hadn’t agreed to her part of the bargain, so he didn’t have a better offer.