Leo’s mouth was wide and lush, the lower lip far more pronounced and sensual than the top. And his nose was prominent — no perky little button nose on this man, which made sense. He needed a nose that could stand up to his striking cheekbones.

  But his eyes…Leo’s eyes were something special.

  His eyes knew the punch line to a joke just about to be told. His eyes were an invitation, a friendly dare.

  They smiled. Crows feet fanned out from dark irises the color of decadent chocolate, alive with light and intensity. It was plain to see that Leo got a kick out of crashing the kitchen hen party. He probably did it as often as he could.

  He scanned the room until he found Tess. She swallowed hard and straightened her spine, and the fact that she’d done either of these things annoyed her.

  Because this was nuts. The absolute last thing she wanted or needed was a man poking his head around the corner of her psyche, demanding she pay attention. She didn’t want to notice Leo. She didn’t want to notice any man. She wasn’t interested.

  Tess was no masochist. She’d just been chewed up and spit out by a man she believed loved her. She had been stupid — four years worth of stupid.

  And she’d never been stupid again.

  She looked away. Tess went back to her apples, though she couldn’t help but hear how Leo made the room full of ladies laugh. He teased a girlish giggle from Polly. He elicited a squeal of delight from little Serena and a soft coo from Lorelei. Maybe that was Leo’s appeal — he had some sort of superpower that rendered females of all ages susceptible to his charms, from senior citizens to toddlers.

  Except for Tess, of course. She would remain immune.

  Leo walked across the kitchen and sat down on the next stool over. “Hey, Tess. Enjoying your stay?”

  “Yes, thanks.” She smiled politely but kept peeling, even as he reached into the large bowl, dipped his fingers into the icy salt water, and helped himself to a slice of apple.

  Izzy smacked his hand. “Those are for the pies!”

  “But they’re so beautiful. I can’t resist.” He held up a slice. “See what I mean? These are the most flawlessly fashioned apple slices I’ve ever seen, uniform in shape and thickness. Perfection.”

  Tess knew it would be a mistake, but she glanced up just as he turned his head, smiled at her, and popped the apple into his mouth. His eyes closed in bliss. “And tasty, too. Tess has some serious skills.”

  Leo’s eyes flashed open. He caught her staring.

  Again.

  “Tess is a veterinary surgeon,” Mona said. “We figured she’d know her way around a sharp knife.”

  Leo was seated close enough that when he chuckled, she felt the vibration.

  “A surgeon, huh?”

  “Yep. And you?”

  “I guess you could say I’m a coach.”

  “Interesting.” Tess was aware that her witty repartee was, by any definition, neither witty or repartee. She was sorely out of practice. The truth was, Leo’s proximity left her unsteady.

  Thank God Mellie came to her rescue.

  “Captain Leo, did you come in here for a reason or are you just making a nuisance of yourself?”

  He laughed. “A little of both, to be perfectly honest. The game is almost over, so I figured I’d ask if you want us to clear out the parlor.”

  Tess continued peeling and slicing while Mellie gave Leo his marching orders. He rose from the stool, but before he turned away, Leo brushed his fingertips across the cuff of Tess’s long sleeved T-shirt. It wasn’t an obnoxious move. It didn’t even feel flirtatious. It was like the comforting touch of a friend.

  She looked up to see him grinning at her.

  “See ya around, Tess.”

  “Sounds good, Leo.”

  Just then, the kitchen door swung open once more, and the rest of the men filed in. Fraser grabbed Mona and kissed her. Clancy carried Christina on his shoulders and gave Evelyn a hug. Duncan wrapped his arms around Lena and their baby, kissing his wife’s hair.

  Nat patted Annie’s behind and Rowan flicked a kitchen towel against the back of Ash’s legs.

  And suddenly, Tess was on the edge of tears, her belly heavy with sadness.

  What was she doing here? She didn’t belong in that kitchen. She might never have what these people had — the right partner, a person who loved and accepted them for who they were.

  Tess was tempted to jump up on top of the butcher block island and start yelling — What do all of you know about love that I don’t? What am I getting wrong? What am I missing?

  Tess had truly believed Jake was the one. Sure, he wasn’t perfect. Neither was she. But they had been perfect for each other.

  Or so she’d thought.

  Jake could be materialistic. He sometimes came off as entitled, but it was a job hazard. Most hotshot orthopedic surgeons in Boston were that way. But Jake was funny and sweet and he understood why Tess had to work such long hours, because he did, too.

  Tess was confident that what they shared was love. She’d been mistaken.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Look! The Christmas singers are here!” Christina pointed out the huge kitchen window, bouncing up and down on her daddy’s shoulders. “And it’s snowing! The snow is here!”

  The crowd began to file out through the dining room and into the huge foyer. Tess watched Ash free Serena from her highchair and settle her on his hip. He turned to Tess.

  “Care to join us? You haven’t heard carols until you’ve heard them sung by members of the Bayberry Elementary choir.”

  Tess knew if she tried to speak she would end up blubbering, so she just smiled and shook her head.

  Ash didn’t budge. A divot appeared on his brow. “You okay, Tess? Want me to grab Nat?”

  She shook her head again.

  Ash clearly wanted to say more, but Serena started to complain. He left to join his family.

  Tess tried to focus on her chore, but her heart wasn’t in it. She heard a slightly off-key but terribly cute rendition of “Ding, Dong, Merrily on High,” which received enthusiastic applause. When the carolers segued into “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” she decided to disappear up the back staircase and return to her room.

  She’d had enough of other people’s happiness for one day. Someone else would have to finish the apples.

  * * *

  While helping stock the bar, Leo asked about the massive mahogany structure tucked against the back wall of the small parlor. Duncan was happy to fill him in.

  In 1887, Rutherford Flynn hired the finest architects from Boston and New York to build the Safe Haven. It would be the wealthy businessman and mayor’s legacy, a brick and stone mansion designed to please his family’s every whim.

  In 1921, Rutherford’s eldest son decided Prohibition didn’t apply to him and turned the basement in to a speakeasy. The ornately carved bar and its huge beveled mirror helped make the Safe Haven a popular watering hole for New England’s high society. Only after World War II was the bar disassembled, moved to the first floor, and put together again.

  “Hand me that case of Jameson’s, would ya?” Clancy interrupted his older brother’s history lesson, not interested in hearing a tale he knew by heart. He sliced open the heavy cardboard with a box cutter, then stowed the whiskey bottles under the bar.

  Leo enjoyed Duncan’s stories. The Flynn family history was interesting, no doubt, but Leo was mostly just glad to have something to keep his mind off the lady veterinarian.

  He couldn’t lie to himself — he was intrigued. He found Tess Curry appealing in every way. She was obviously smart. She was funny. And she was a down-to-earth beauty.

  She didn’t wear makeup, at least not when he’d seen her, yet her skin was soft and her cheeks rosy. Her hair was loose and naturally curly, a collection of darker and lighter blond strands, with bangs that skimmed her eyebrows. More than once, Leo wondered what those curls would feel like slipping through his fingers.

  And behind Tess?
??s nerdy, hipster glasses, were large, hazel eyes fringed with soft lashes. She had a pretty pink mouth, too, and he’d noticed that when she smiled a set of matching dimples appeared.

  Though he certainly hadn’t gone looking for it, he’d found something worth exploring in Tess, which kind of shocked him.

  He’d done a lot of soul searching since his injury, and some of it had to do with his approach to women. As an active-duty Ranger, Leo had always been hesitant to get too attached. He kept his dating relationships fun and easy. That way, when the heat burned out — or if something happened to him — it wouldn’t be a disaster.

  There’d been a shift after he’d been released from the hospital. He started to look for a different kind of woman. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what it was he wanted. Depth, maybe? A broader perspective? It had been a relief to learn that hot women still found him attractive, but he was no longer on the hunt for the next shiny, pretty thing he could catch and release.

  He wanted more.

  “Can you give me a hand with the keg, Leo?”

  He snapped back to attention, immediately helping Ash lift the beer keg into the cooler and attach it to the tap.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Of course.”

  “Hey, check it out, L-Mo. The snow’s really coming down.”

  Leo joined Duncan at the picture window overlooking Haven Beach. Any sunlight that had peeked through the heavy afternoon clouds was beginning to fade. Evening was on its way.

  “We’ll have to add snow-blowing to our list of shit to do tomorrow.”

  “Sign me up.”

  Duncan glanced at Leo and grinned. “So you doing good?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve almost finished the grant proposal. I’ll have something for you to look at tomorrow.”

  “There’s no rush. Enjoy Christmas Eve.” Duncan gave Leo’s back a hearty pat. “I appreciate everything you do. I hope you know that.”

  “Of course I do.”

  The two stood in silence for a moment. Leo had known Duncan Flynn for years. They first met during a joint mission in Iraq, then crossed paths on the rehab unit of Walter Reed Hospital — Leo was on his way in while Duncan was heading out.

  Last year, just after Leo’s mom had passed away, Duncan approached him about working as the program director of the Aqua Vet Foundation. The job offer was a Godsend.

  The way Leo saw it, Duncan had saved his life as much as the surgeons had. He’d given him a focus.

  Duncan turned to him. “I know it’s a little crazy around here with this anniversary thing, so if you’d rather come hang with me and the girls at the house…”

  “Thanks, but it’s all good here.”

  “Yeah. I noticed.” Duncan chuckled. “Seems you’re enjoying the holiday scenery here at the Safe Haven Bed and Breakfast.”

  “What?” Leo laughed, straightening uncomfortably. He’d said nothing to anyone about Tess and hadn’t gone out of his way to spend time with her. But somehow, Duncan had picked up on his interest.

  Leo shook his head. “It’s not like that at all. Anyway, you heard what Nat said — she’s going through a nasty breakup.”

  Duncan smiled at him. “I know.”

  “Good.”

  Nat, Ash, and Clancy came to join them at the window, putting an abrupt end to that exchange. Thank goodness.

  “So what does Ma expect us to wear to this thing, anyway?” Clancy asked his brother. “A suit? I know Evelyn’s making a big deal of it — bought a new dress for the night.”

  “It’s casual. Think about it — when’s the last time a Bayberry event called for a suit?”

  “The Mermaid Ball,” Ash said.

  Duncan laughed. “You’re right. Besides the ball, then.”

  Leo was relieved to hear that the event was casual, since he’d left his suits in Boston. He hadn’t planned to be a guest at a fancy party.

  Just like he hadn’t planned for Tess Curry.

  Chapter Four

  Two A.M., Christmas Eve

  Tess couldn’t sleep. Still.

  She threw off the fluffy down comforter and grabbed her cell phone. Only twenty minutes had passed since the last time she’d checked? How was that even possible?

  Her head felt heavy, her neck ached, and she couldn’t shut off the horror show running on a continuous loop through her mind.

  Over and over she relived it. She’d come home early, tossed her coat to the living room chair, and noticed a pale shaft of lamp light streaming through a crack in the bedroom door. She moved closer, goose bumps rising on her forearms, her stomach already clenching. She heard a woman’s gentle moan of pleasure.

  Tess pushed at the door. It swung open. And the bottom fell out of her world.

  “That’s enough, Tess.”

  And now she’d started talking to herself!

  She jumped up, turned on the light, and went foraging for a pair of jeans and a sweater. It was the middle of the night and her chances of encountering anyone were slim, but she’d already been caught in her snowman jammies, and once was plenty.

  Tess tiptoed down the hall and felt her way down the back staircase to the kitchen. She flipped on the light and immediately got to work. There had to be popcorn somewhere. She eventually found it, though she was a little bummed that it was the old fashioned kind. She located the oil and scrounged a large pot with a lid.

  When the last kernel had popped, she peered in to discover she’d made enough to feed a family of four.

  Sounds about right.

  Tess made her way to the media room at the back of the house. The Safe Haven was spectacular, still featuring many of its original historical details like woodwork, paneling, floors, and light fixtures. But a recent remodel had added some modern touches. The media room was one of them.

  On the back wall of the windowless room was a huge projection scree. Comfy couches and chairs were angled for the best view and an alphabetized DVD library held hundreds of titles.

  Tess was looking for one film in particular, and found it right where it should have been, tucked between The Matrix and Moonstruck. Tess slipped The Mermaid Of Bayberry Island into the Blu-ray, plopped down on the couch, and settled in for a night of fun — a girl, a documentary, and a vat of hot-buttered comfort.

  The first shot of the film was a bird’s eye view, a low and fast flight across the surface of the Atlantic. Traditional fiddle music played as the island came into view. The narrator began to speak, her voice a silky feminine melody.

  “The mermaid legend of Bayberry Island has managed to survive in a world hostile to myth and magic. As the tale goes, the mermaid has kept a vigil over her small Massachusetts island — halfway between Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard — for well over a century. Her bronze form—”

  “Would you like some company?”

  Tess shot straight up from the couch and wheeled toward the voice. Popcorn that had been on its way to her mouth now rained down to the floor.

  Leo peeked around the doorway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t able to fall asleep and …” He stopped. “What are you watching?”

  “Oh!” Tess grabbed the remote and paused the movie, realizing her heart was pounding Uptown Funk in double time. “It’s…uh…my cousin’s documentary. About the mermaid. You know, the legend of how she grants true love and everything.”

  He nodded and stepped into the doorway. “I’ve never seen it.”

  “I haven’t either. I…” Tess laughed at her own awkwardness. “I just started watching.”

  “Would you mind if I joined you?”

  Oh, God. Tess didn’t know how to answer that. She had nothing against Leo Molinaro. She would surely enjoy the company. It was just…

  He was just so…

  Tess shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Would you like some popcorn?”

  Leo walked in and headed toward the couches angled before the screen. She hadn’t had an opportunity to watch him walk across a room before. There was a slight l
imp, but only someone looking for it would notice.

  God, he was hot.

  But that was completely beside the point.

  Leo sat on the opposite side of the popcorn, then looked down to the overflowing bowl.

  “Sure you got enough to share?”

  Tess laughed, returning to her comfy spot on the couch. “I’m not always eating, I swear, though it probably seems that way to you.”

  “Scones and popcorn — two of the major food groups.”

  “I think I was in a scone coma when we met yesterday.”

  Leo smiled, and his eyes filled with warm amusement, a sparkle of awareness. “Nothing wrong with a healthy appetite, Tess.”

  She reached for the remote. “I’ll start it over.”

  So there they were, together on the couch watching Nat’s documentary, nothing between them but a bowl and a remote control. Tess couldn’t help but notice how Leo smelled — like salt air, warm masculine skin, and clean clothes. It was a heady combination.

  Leo took up a lot of room on the couch. He was long and broad and made of solid muscle. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the screen.

  It didn’t take long to discover that Leo’s sense of humor meshed with hers, because they laughed at almost all the same moments. They both guffawed when the older members of the Mermaid Society stood around in Spandex mermaid tails and seashell bras and shared their secrets to keeping romance alive.

  Leo gestured to the screen. “Your cousin’s a pro. This is very good.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” Tess cocked her head. Her mother hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said Nat’s film was funny and sweet. Tess felt bad that she hadn’t watched it before now. Tomorrow, she’d tell Nat what a great job he’d done.

  The movie segued into the origins of the legend. Tess was fascinated by the story of how Rutherford Flynn believed his wife was a mermaid and commissioned a statue in her likeness — the same statue that stood in Fountain Square today. She was so enthralled that she left her hand hovering over the popcorn. When Leo reached in, his fingers brushed the top of her hand.

  The contact sent a jolt of heat through her body. Tess pulled away.