Mistletoe Maverick

By Shannon Curtis

Sexy bachelor and local sheriff, Jackson King would like to have a little more contact with the newest resident of his town, Patience, Texas—but dealing with her young ward’s shenanigans wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

Stephanie Farrell is struggling this Christmas. As a new guardian to two young children she discovers that playing Mommy is a lot tougher than expected—and there’s certainly no room in her life for dating or relationships, no matter how smoking hot the temptation.

When Jackson is called to Stephanie’s address during a late night home invasion, his attempt to rescue her makes him a target. Now, he’ll risk his life to save the family who has stolen his heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shannon Curtis
• Release date: Dec 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310381867

Book preview

Mistletoe Maverick

by Shannon Curtis

Mistletoe Maverick

© Shannon Curtis 2015

First published December 2015

ISBN 9781310381867 (ebook, Smashwords edition)

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to events or persons living or dead is coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any manner whatsoever-electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other-without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.

Edited by Debbie Phillips, DP Plus

Cover design by Kim Designs

Typeset by Debbie Phillips, DP Plus

Published by Info Block Pty Ltd

www.shannoncurtis.com

Dedication

Thank you to all the readers who so generously support me, spend their money on, and their time with, me and my characters … You guys are simply the best.

Chapter 1

Stephanie flinched at the unexpected peal of the doorbell, then hissed as she bumped her finger against the hot tray in the oven.

Coming, she called out, flapping her hand in a vain attempt to cool the burn. She grabbed the pot-holder gloves she should have used in the first place and quickly reached in and pulled the tray of cinnamon cookies out of the oven, dumping it on the draining panel of the sink. The doorbell rang again.

I’m coming, I’m coming, she called out, then sucked on her finger as she jogged down the hallway. They never got visitors. Located on the outskirts of town at the furthest end of a dead-end street, the old former ranch house she now called home wasn’t on a thoroughfare. Nobody was ever ‘just passing by’. Oh, and then there was the story about the original owner dying in the house many years ago. Creepy, but as a result the rent was cheap; it wasn’t too far from the school, and the backyard was a bonus for her new family.

She reached for the door knob as the doorbell rang again. All right, all— She stared up at the familiar figure standing on her doorstep, a small flurry of snow falling beyond the porch. The cool air was such a contrast to the interior of the house, but she barely noticed, warmed by the sight of the man in front of her. The familiar tall, broad-shouldered, lean-hipped man who’d been plaguing her dreams ever since she’d moved into the small town of Patience, Texas, three months ago. Uh, Sheriff King. Sheriff Jackson King. Everybody knew the sheriff. One of the first things she’d learned when she’d arrived was that he was the most eligible bachelor in Patience—and the next two counties. And he was a popular sheriff, particularly with the ladies. With chiseled features, sandy blond hair, eyes a varying shade of hazel–green, the man had a body built for sin, which was ironic considering his occupation.

She absently sucked on her stinging finger. Not that she needed to be fantasizing about a handsome sheriff and his reputation in the bedroom—many bedrooms, if rumors were to be believed. Nope, she was beyond that. Her gaze dropped to his side, and she wasn’t fast enough to hide her surprise when she recognized her young ward. Hi, Aiden.

Wait a minute. She checked her watch. The craft day at the church wasn’t due to finish for another two hours …

The ten-year-old boy glared at her sullenly. Her gaze darted between the boy and the sheriff. Uh-oh. What’s happened? She stepped aside, gesturing for them both to enter the warmth of her home.

The sheriff removed his Stetson as he stepped over the threshold, revealing his close-cropped hair, and ran his long fingers over the brim of his hat. She tried not to stare at those long, tanned fingers caressing the hat. Those sexy, long fingers that—damn it. She shouldn’t be noticing his fingers. She wasn’t in a position to do anything about those fingers—or have those fingers do anything to her. She pushed the door closed, blocking the chill and snow from entering the house.

The sheriff turned to his young companion. Will you tell her or will I? he drawled, leaning a broad shoulder against the wall of the hallway, and cocking a sandy-colored brow. God, the man could make anything sound smoking-hot sexy. She turned to the young boy, concentrating