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Authors: Judy Christenberry

BOOK: A Randall Thanksgiving
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Harry told Griff what they’d decided. “Would that be all right?”

“Let me tell Camille,” Griff said, and covered his receiver in turn. “She says that’ll be perfect, but she’d have to get started at once. How about the Sunday after Thanksgiving?”

“You’ll have to ask Melissa.” Harry handed her the phone.

“Mom, are you going to be all right with this? I don’t want you to overdo,” she said worriedly.

“I’m fine. With a wedding to plan, I’ll be even better.” She went to talking about details, as if she’d already been planning this day in her head.

But Melissa was having a hard time following her mother. Harry had begun to remove her blouse.

He tugged it off one shoulder, then bent to kiss the skin there. His free hand roamed her back, tracing slow, seductive circles, until it stopped at her bra. Deftly he snapped it open, and Melissa nearly shrieked into the phone.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, Mom, I have to go now. We’ll talk more when I get home.”

“When should we expect you, dear?” her mother asked.

Melissa looked at Harry and saw the desire in his gaze. “Morning, I think. Bye.” Without hesitation she dropped the phone in its charger and went into his arms.

“What about the morning?” Harry asked as he shed her blouse and bra.

“Mom wanted to know when I’d be— Oh, yes,” she moaned as he cupped her breasts and kissed each one.

“When you’d what?” His breath was hot on her body.

“When I’d be home.” She went back to work on his clothes, pushing his shirt over his shoulders.

“So you’re staying the night?”

“Am I not invited?” she teased, looking up at him with a pout.

“Oh, yeah. That just means I can take my time and do this properly, Melissa Randall-soon-to-be-Gowan.”

“Hmm,” Melissa said dreamily, “I think I’ll name my company MRG. That’ll be perfect.”

“Yes, it will,” he agreed as he slid down the zipper of her jeans. Stepping back, he lowered them inch by agonizing inch, running his palms down her legs until he pulled the pants off completely.

Standing there only in her panties, she looked down at him crouched on the floor. “Why am I almost bare and you still have on all your clothes?”

“Because I work faster than you?” he asked with a grin.

She reaching out for him then, and when he stood, she stripped him in the same torturous way he’d done her. When they were both naked, Harry took it upon himself to explore every inch of her body. “Oh, Harry, I—” She gasped as he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. “Yes, there.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Tell, me what you like.”

“I like you, Harry. Just you.”

He looked up at her, his gaze intent. “I thought you
loved
me,” he teased.

“I do love you. I was talking about what I liked…in bed.”

He swooped her up once again. “Then let’s get in bed.” Laying her down on his comforter, he let his eyes rake every inch of her. And she did the same. Everyone had told her that Harry was so modest. Well, there was nothing modest about him. Now he stood there, letting her look.

That day in the workout room was nothing compared to this. Then she’d only glimpsed his broad, muscular chest. Now she got to feast on it. And all the rest of him.

He opened a bedside drawer and took out a foil-wrapped package.

It dawned on Melissa then that they’d never talked about children.

“Do you want to have kids, Harry?” she blurted.

He let out a laugh. “I do, but not right now.”

“Me, too. I want a whole bunch of them. But I’d like to wait until I get my company up and running.”

“That’s what I figured.” He took care of the protection and joined her on the bed, taking her in his arms again. “We’ve got lots of time to talk and plan, Melissa. For now, we have other things to do.”

She smiled. “That’s what I like about you, Harry. You have your priorities in order.” She reached up to him, and this time he took her places she’d never been before. In no time she needed more of him, all of him.

Harry leaned back as he entered her, watching her as
he sheathed himself inside her. And her own gaze never wavered. Though it’d been little more than a week since they’d met, it seemed as if she’d waited forever to be with Harry Gowan, and she wasn’t going to close her eyes and miss a minute of it.

She hung on to him, matching his rhythm, and called out his name in a breathless gasp as they climaxed together. She wondered then what it would be like making love to Harry when they’d actually gotten to know each other’s bodies. Could it be better than this?

Harry hoisted himself on his elbows, gazing down at her and stroking her face with his thumbs. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

He leaned over and kissed her lips. “I love your lips, by the way.”

“I love yours, too. And every other part of you.”

“I’m glad you told your mother you’d be spending the night. I don’t think I want to leave this bed till morning.” He grinned then as she started to move her hips again in an enticing pattern. “I think I may need a few minutes,” he admitted, looking at her with twinkling eyes.

But Melissa knew better. She could feel him growing hard already. Still, she teased, “Or you could always go to the chocolate cake.”

 

S
OMETHING DISTURBED
Harry’s sleep. He opened his eyes to find Melissa next to him, one arm and leg
wrapped over him, holding him close. He decided he liked waking up that way.

Then the phone rang again and he reached over her to grab it.

She opened her eyes. “What—”

“It’s just the phone. Go back to sleep,” he told her, hoping to God it wasn’t Griff changing his mind about him.

“Hello?” he murmured tentatively.

“Harry, it’s Mike. I know we had this conversation earlier, but I think you should come out to the ranch for Thanksgiving dinner like you always do. It makes no sense—”

“Okay,” Harry said calmly, stopping Mike’s argument.

Mike remained silent for a moment, then said, “You agree?”

“I sure do.”

“What changed your mind?”

Harry looked down at the woman in his bed, the one who’d just driven him wild with her lovemaking. “Let’s just say I saw the light.”

He clicked off the phone then and wrapped her in his arms, ready to go back to sleep. But Melissa stirred, asking sleepily, “Who was that?”

“Mike. He wanted to make sure I came to Thanksgiving dinner at the ranch. I told him I’d be there.”

As if spurred, Melissa jumped up. “I forgot to tell you. Sorry, but I had other things on my mind last night.” She wiggled her brows and grinned. “I saw
Mike and Caroline’s house and I loved it. Dad offered to buy it for me if I’d stay here, and I took him up on the offer.”

“He doesn’t have to do that. I—”

She put a finger on his lips, silencing him. “He deserves to pay, Harry. He was trying to pressure me to stay.”

“But that’s because you told him you were leaving.”

“Yes, but he should’ve had faith that I’d make the right decision on my own.”

Harry knew this was an argument he wasn’t going to win. But he still wasn’t happy with Griff buying the house he was going to live in. “I can buy the house, Melissa.”

“But it’s Dad’s wedding present to us. You can’t say no to a present.”

He had a feeling he’d never be able to say no to her, either. “Seems a rather extravagant gift,” he muttered.

“Maybe,” she said as she stroked his chest, “but I’m only going to get married once.”

“You got that right.” He watched her hand as it discovered his scar. As her palm slid lower on his torso, he felt himself become aroused. “I don’t think I’m going to need that chocolate cake.”

“Oh, really?” Melissa looked up at him, feigning innocence.

“You are a tease, Melissa Randall,” Harry growled, capturing her hand.

“Yes, I am,” she agreed as her lips met his.

Harry figured they’d save their dessert for another day. If he ever needed it at all.

Epilogue

Jake Randall stood up at the head of the table and asked the blessing for their Thanksgiving Day dinner. Several golden-brown turkeys, as well as bowls of potatoes, vegetables and homemade breads, weighted down the table, all made by Red and Mildred, who at their advanced age still prided themselves on how well they took care of the Randall clan.

And all the clan was there. The four brothers, their children, the cousins. As Jake said grace, he counted each of them as a blessing.

When he sat down, Griff called for everyone’s attention. “Seems we’ve got even more to be thankful for,” he said, smiling at his wife, who was seated next to him. “Camille’s tests all came back benign.” He bent to kiss her as the family cheered.

Across from him, Harry hugged Melissa. He knew how worried she’d been about her mother. Then he asked Jake and everyone seated at the table, “I know y’all can’t wait to eat, but would you mind if I said something, too?”

Jake spoke for the family. “Of course not, Harry. Go ahead.”

He stood up. “Well, you know this is my fourth year as a guest at your Thanksgiving table, but I want to tell you that I won’t be coming as a guest anymore.” He paused for a moment before he added, “Next time I’ll be coming as a member of the famous Randall family.” He smiled down at Melissa. “Melissa has agreed to marry me. The wedding is Sunday and you’re all invited.”

Dinner forgotten, everyone rushed to congratulate Harry and Melissa. All the women offered to help Camille with the reception. Then Jake said, “But I thought Melissa was going back to France.”

“Only to pack up,” Harry explained. “And I’ll be going with her, for our honeymoon. We’ll be back before Christmas, so if you have any shopping requests, let Melissa know.”

“I’m opening my own jewelery design business based right here in Rawhide,” she told everyone. “But I’ll appreciate it if you’ll all pitch in and make Harry feel at home when I have to be out of town.”

There were a lot more questions, but Red and Mildred insisted everyone start eating before the food got cold.

As Harry feasted on the holiday spread, he looked around the table at the family he’d acquired overnight. The Randalls could be overwhelming, meddling, matchmaking, but no one could argue about how they loved each other. They were so different from his own
family. He couldn’t have given his future children a better gift than making them a part of this clan.

Harry wondered then if he should bite the bullet and get in touch with his parents and sister, to tell them about the wedding. He hadn’t spoken to any of them in years. But somehow sitting there with all the Randalls, Harry knew he would. His parents could never be like Griff and Camille, but he’d have to accept whatever it was they could offer. Even for just a day. After all, as Melissa had said, he was only getting married once.

Melissa shook his arm, drawing him out of his deep thoughts. “Harry, did you hear all the wedding presents everyone wants to give us?” She listed the items.

“They can’t give us all that,” he whispered to her.

“Why not, Harry? That’s the way we Randalls do things. You’d better get used to it.”

“Give him time,” Griff said from across the table. “He’ll come ’round.”

Then Jake offered to pay for the trip to Paris, and Harry couldn’t rein in a protest. “I’m supposed to pay for the honeymoon. I know that much at least.”

Jake just grinned at him.

Melissa put a comforting hand on his. “I can’t tell Uncle Jake what to do. Can you?”

“N-no,” he stammered. “But your dad will tell him.”

Melissa just laughed at him. “Don’t worry, Harry. They won’t pay our bills after we’re married. That’ll be your job.” She kissed him and everyone hooted.

When he pulled her close and deepened the kiss,
Griff teased, “There they go again. Kissing in front of everyone.” But he couldn’t be happier.

Melissa smiled at her husband-to-be. “We’re going to have a lovely life together, Harry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. And I promise—right here in front of everyone—that I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”

“It just takes being yourself. You’re the perfect man for me.”

Harry’s gaze scanned all the Randalls, his new family, then lit on his future wife. He wrapped his arm around her. “We’ve got a lot to be to be thankful for.”

ISBN: 978-1-4268-5882-6

A RANDALL THANKSGIVING

Copyright © 2006 by Judy Christenberry.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

www.eHarlequin.com


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