Free A Chesapeake Shores Christmas by Sherryl Woods

change, Megan. There’d be a certain irony, if they did.”
    “Do you honestly think that I, of all people, would let that happen, Mick? After all of my complaints when you put family on the back burner, how could you think for a second I would do the same thing?”
    “You’re awfully determined to make this new business of yours a success. Nobody understands that kind of drive better than I do.”
    She realized he was genuinely worried about such a thing coming to pass. “Mick, if it seems for even a minute that my priorities are out of order, you have my permission to call me on it. I want this business to succeed. I expect it to be fun and professionally satisfying, maybe even financially rewarding, but once you and I take our vows, whenever that is, you and our family will be my top priority.”
    “I would have said the same thing years ago,” he reminded her, not sounding reassured. “I thought I was working so hard for my family, instead of stealing time from them.”
    “This won’t be the same,” she swore. “I promise. It’s to be a small gallery, right here in Chesapeake Shores, not a nationally known architectural firm in demand from one coast to the other.”
    She studied him out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t seem to be entirely satisfied by her response. “Mick, what else is going on in that head of yours?”
    “I’ve just been thinking that here I am, semiretired, spending most of my time these days on volunteer projects, and you’re about to launch a new venture. It takes time and commitment to do that successfully. How’s it going to work if I say, let’s pick up and go on a trip, on the spur of the moment? We’re at a time in our lives when we should be able to be impulsive, to indulge ourselves. You’re going to be all tied up with work.”
    “Ever heard of delegating?” she asked, then laughed. “Of course you haven’t! That’s why you were always racing around to every single job site around the country with barely a stop back here to take a breath.”
    “Need I remind you, I’ve changed?” he retorted indignantly. “Jaime’s doing all the running now.”
    “Thank goodness for that,” she said. “But, you see, I’ve always understood about delegating. I’m going to find an assistant manager who’s as good at the job as I am, and then trust him or her to do it, just the way Phillip did with me.”
    He met her gaze. “Is that a promise?”
    There was an urgency in his voice she didn’t entirely understand, but she nodded. “Absolutely. Mick, we’re going to make this work. If I didn’t believe that, I never would have said yes to your proposal.”
    They walked in silence for a bit, still arm in arm, as the sun fell lower in the sky. The chill in the air turned more biting, and Megan shivered.
    Mick glanced over at her and stopped. “I know just the thing to keep you warm,” he said, a mischievous grin lighting his eyes.
    “Hot chocolate?” she asked hopefully. “We’re still fairly far from home. You don’t have a thermos tucked in your pocket, do you? Or a flask with something stronger?”
    “Better than that,” he said, pulling her to him. He took the bouquet and set it on a boulder, then lowered his mouth to cover hers.
    Heat spiraled through Megan, warming her down to her toes. It was the kind of heat that led straight to temptation. More than that, though, it was the kind of heat that reminded her that Mick O’Brien would always provide whatever she needed, from the most basic things in life to the most sweetly romantic and frivolous, like those poor, half-frozen tulips.
    Whatever worries had gotten under his skin today to make him doubt the future, she didn’t share them. At least not today. Right now she knew, above all else, that she was safe in this man’s arms…and always would be.

    On Wednesday morning, Mick found Nell in the kitchen muttering under her breath as she pulled the pumpkin pies for tomorrow’s dinner from the oven. She’d