His Christmas Bride. Dana Corbit

with Jenna’s mother, and Logan with Haley. Because the youngest Warren brother and the youngest Scott sister had been like oil and water together ever since they were in diapers, he assigned Lizzie to work with them to keep the peace. That complete, he started dividing the work.

      “I had planned to deal with food, but since I’m working with the premier shopper—” Dylan paused, glancing Jenna’s way “—we’ll take clothing, toiletries and Christmas gifts.”

      The minister stood and crossed the room to collect his coat. “Well, Dylan, it looks as if you have this under control. I’ll have to remember your organizational skills the next time we need a new committee leader at church.”

      Jenna agreed with the minister’s praise and would have said so, but the look Dylan sent her way made her keep her opinion to herself. Her plan of working on a team with him didn’t seem like such a great idea, after all. Did she really think forcing him to be with her would help her to restore their friendship?

      No, she’d gone about this the wrong way. Instead of approaching him slowly and letting him remember why they once were close, she’d forced her way into his space, reminding him of how selfish she’d always been. She’d wanted to prove to him she was different, and all she’d done was show him more of the same.

      What was she supposed to do now? Once again, she’d messed things up with Dylan, but she would just have to work within the uncomfortable situation she’d created. She’d committed to helping the Dentons, and she intended to follow through with her commitment. Maybe if Dylan saw that, he would eventually be able to forgive her, after all.

      Chapter Three

      Brad Denton looked as uncomfortable as a cowboy in a tuxedo as he took a seat next to his wife at Home Cooking Café the next morning. Well, Dylan could relate to his discomfort. As if it wasn’t awkward enough meeting the Dentons for the first time, Jenna was sitting next to him. He wished he could ignore her, but the coconut scent of her shampoo invaded his senses every time she turned her head, and the chime of her laughter filtered into his ears. If only his senses hadn’t picked today to become sharp enough to detect a noise in the next room or hear a butterfly fluttering its wings.

      He’d counted on her being a no-show this morning—like all the other times—but that hadn’t worked out for him, either. Why she’d picked this morning to come through on one of her commitments, he wasn’t sure. She wasn’t doing anything halfway, either. They’d barely made it to their seats, and she was already playing hostess, chatting with Lila Boggs and Kelly Denton.

      “Do you think we should send out a search party for the boys?” Reverend Boggs asked as he opened his menu.

      Brad glanced over his shoulder toward the restroom where Connor and Ryan had hurried before the hostess could seat them. He spoke conspiratorially to Dylan. “Two more minutes and we’re going in.”

      The men’s room door opened then, and the boys rushed out, saving the adults from that covert mission. The boys hurried across the room, looking like matching wind-up toys, not technically running—their mother had warned them not to—but close to it.

      As the twins scrambled into the two remaining seats at the long table, mischievous grins on their faces, Dylan’s thoughts cleared. He remembered why they were all working together in the first place: for the sake of these little boys. He’d only just met them, and already they inspired a fierce protectiveness in him.

      Dylan couldn’t get over the fact that Connor and Ryan were laughing and playing as if they’d already forgotten about yesterday’s fire and were ready for their next adventure. Children were definitely resilient. He knew from experience. But he also knew that they scarred just as deeply as anyone else did.

      Those boys and their parents deserved the best his family and the Scotts could offer, and nothing—not even Jenna—should distract him from giving it.

      “I sure hope after all that time in there that you two washed your hands,” Kelly said to her sons.

      “We did, Mommy.” Only one of them answered, but they both held up their hands.

      The waitress took their order, and soon the twins were wolfing down their waffles as if they hadn’t eaten in months. Not true, of course, since their parents had already mentioned the pizza they’d eaten in their hotel room late last night.

      “Boys, you need to slow down. This isn’t a race,” Kelly admonished them as she set her fork aside.

      Dylan shook his head. “Obviously you weren’t a boy who grew up with brothers. In my house, everything was a race or a contest.”

      “I can vouch for that,” Jenna told them. “The Warren brothers competed over who could spit the farthest or cross his eyes the longest, even who had the most ear wax.”

      Because Dylan couldn’t help smiling at the shared memory, he was glad she wasn’t looking his way. But she would know about those things. She’d been there for many of those contests and other incidents. He remembered clearly just how important it was to him to win when Jenna was around.

      “You really do understand our boys, then,” Brad said.

      “It sounds as if you’ve known each other a long time.” Kelly looked back and forth between them, searching for a connection.

      “Since birth…or a little before,” Jenna said, smiling.

      “Our mothers are best friends, so they stuck us kids together a lot.”

      He hadn’t intended the comment to sound so harsh, but he failed, and an awkward silence settled over the table. He suddenly felt bad—he didn’t want to hurt Jenna. He just didn’t want to get pulled back into a friendship that had caused him so much pain. But being around her brought back so many memories, most filled with laughter rather than sadness. It confused and frustrated him that though he knew he should steer clear of her for his own good, part of him was willing to be drawn in again. It didn’t do any good for him to wish he could have found an excuse not to work on a team with Jenna. He simply had to work with the situation as it was.

      “Anyway…I think we’ve addressed all the details.” Dylan glanced down at the list of tasks in front of him and then to the list of clothing and shoe sizes next to Jenna’s coffee cup. “Can any of you think of anything we haven’t covered?”

      “Will Santa miss us this year because he doesn’t know we’re at a hotel, instead of our old, burned-up house?” Ryan asked, suddenly serious.

      Dylan swallowed, his heart aching for the child’s distress. The twins’ concerns might not have been as obvious as those of their parents, but they were there.

      The adults glanced at one another across the table. The boys wouldn’t fully understand how much they’d lost in the fire for a while—the memories and surety that they would always be safe. The grown-ups already knew.

      Connor tilted his head to the side. “Do you think Santa will get it if we leave a note for him at our old house to tell him where we are now?”

      “As long as we put a cookie and some milk with it.” Excitement replaced the worried look on Ryan’s face.

      “Hey, those are clever ideas, boys.” Kelly managed a reassuring smile for her sons.

      The waitress stopped by the table to leave the check, and Dylan nabbed it before anyone could look at it. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and set his credit card with the bill.

      Brad glanced at the credit card that represented a free breakfast, and he gripped his hands together. “I don’t know if all this is the best idea. Your church has already done so much with the hotel room and all.”

      Kelly leaned her cheek against her husband’s shoulder. All through breakfast, the two of them had been holding hands. “You’ll have to forgive my husband. It’s hard for him to accept help. We’ve always made our own way before, and…” As her voice broke, she glanced away, dabbing her eyes with her napkin.

      “Pride.