Free Lakeshore Chronicles [10] Candlelight Christmas by Susan Wiggs Page B

pleased with me at the moment.”
    “Why not?”
    “I made a kind of impulsive career move. Sold my stable, lucrative, predictable, boring business for a crazy, risky, unstable one.”
    “Are you talking about that ski resort in your town?”
    “Yeah. Cool you remember it.”
    “I think it sounds incredible. Congratulations.”
    “My family thinks I’ve gone off the deep end.”
    “I know the feeling. The first time I disappointed my parents was the moment I was born.”
    “What, did you have a tail or something?”
    “Ha-ha.”
    “I’ve heard those can be removed.”
    “It’s what I didn’t have that disappointed them.”
    “What’s that?”
    “A penis. After four girls, they were desperate for a boy.”
    “You have four older sisters. And I thought I had it bad, with India and China.”
    “And how is it your sisters were named after exotic foreign countries while you were named after an airport?”
    “Quirky folks. I just feel lucky they didn’t call me Madagascar or Sri Lanka.”
    “Yet another thing we have in common—quirky parents. Mine are English professors. My sisters and I are named after literary figures. I guess that makes them quirky but predictable.”
    “Darcy. I can’t recall a Darcy from college English.”
    “Hint—it’s a surname.”
    He gave a short laugh. “As in Fitzwilliam Darcy? You’re named after Mr. Darcy?”
    “It gets worse. My sisters are Mary, Kitty, Lydia and Lizzie. My full name is Darcy Jane.” She punctuated the list by plopping chunks of potato into a pot of cold water.
    “Don’t tell me Lydia is married to a reverend...”
    “Worse. A motivational speaker, who happens to be the brother of my ex.”
    “And suddenly it all comes clear. You came to Florida to escape the dubious pleasures of the family Thanksgiving.”
    “Exactly. It’s so much easier to get along with other people’s families.”
    “Agreed. And can I just say, this dinner is going to be epic.” He slid the turkey into the oven. Then he looked around the kitchen and wiped his hands on a tea towel. “We’re finished for now. There’s nothing more to be done for about three hours. Let’s hit the beach.”
    He flashed that killer smile again. Oh, why did he have to have a killer smile?

Chapter Six
     
    W orking alongside Darcy Fitzgerald in the kitchen didn’t suck. Logan freely acknowledged that. He kind of liked talking to her. He kind of liked her, as much as or maybe more than he had last summer. This was surprising, because he rarely—make that never —felt even a spark of interest in a girl who came preapproved by his family.
    Yeah, he liked her, but she wasn’t his type. Life was simpler without the complication of a divorce survivor. And she didn’t even look like his type, particularly at the moment, in the floppy hat and shapeless robe. That layered-on style made her look like a human coat tree. Still, she had a fun personality and a cute smile. She was the type of girl to have as a friend, nothing more.
    “Time for the beach,” he said. “You’re going to love it.”
    “Lead on, Kemosabe.”
    He walked through the breezeway and held the back door for her. His folks’ place had all the perks—an infinity pool and lush gardens, a small grove of orange and calamondin trees, a tennis court, a golf course bordering one side of the yard and on the other side, a scenic path through a bird marsh leading to the beach.
    “Not too shabby,” she remarked, pausing to get a phone picture of a group of roosting flamingos.
    “We spend every Thanksgiving here. The setting is not exactly traditional, though.”
    “Traditions are overrated,” she said.
    “Yeah? Which ones?”
    “The ones that throw you together with people you don’t get along with and force you to pretend to have a good time.”
    “Ouch.”
    “Those are the traditions I’m talking about.”
    “Well, when you put it that way...”
    “Sorry.” A grin flashed beneath the wide brim of the hat.