His Destiny Bride. Christyne Butler

“Seems a bit strange not to see at least a few of them around.”

      Katie was glad for the change in the conversation. “Both mommies-to-be haven’t been feeling well, so I’m guessing their hubbies stayed home with them. Nolan is traveling for business. Even if he were around, I’d doubt he’d be here.”

      “Didn’t he—” Peggy paused and peeked at her glowing phone again. “Oh, what the...it’s my ex. I knew it was too good to be true. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

      Katie, glad for the interruption, pushed any thought of Nolan out of her head, a habit she’d gotten good at over the years. She scanned the sea of costumes, from the homemade to the store-bought.

      Hmm, might she get another glimpse—

      Oh, there he was again.

      Her pirate.

      She had a better view this time, even if it was from the back. He’d taken off his jacket to reveal a white shirt with billowing sleeves and a blackish vest. The hat was gone, too. Flowing hair that had to be a wig hung past his yummy broad shoulders. It was held in place by a silk bandanna wrapped around his head.

      Boy, he could’ve stepped off a tall-sailed, three-masted schooner.

      She lowered her gaze, taking in tight breeches, knee-high boots with oversize cuffs and a sword hanging from the wide leather belt on a trim waist.

      Hmm, very nice.

      Then the Captain Jack wannabe turned around. His mask was much like hers; it covered most of his face, except for a strong jaw and sexy mouth accented by a pirate-type beard.

      Their eyes met and held, and darn if she didn’t get a little breathless. Then his gaze raked over her and Katie’s skin tingled. An urge to go to him filled her, but she’d promised to stay put. Without her cell phone—there was no place to carry it in this outfit—Peggy wouldn’t know where she’d gone.

      Maybe he’d come to her.

      She lifted her hand. Alcohol-fueled bravery had her poised to crook a finger in his direction when a group of revelers got between them. By the time they moved past, he was gone again. Darn.

      * * *

      Once he finished this latest beer, Nolan Murphy was out of here.

      Damn, he was tired. Worse, he was hot and pissed off. Okay, hot, pissed off and surprisingly, turned on.

      What a way to end a crazy week.

      It had to be a hundred-plus degrees in the Blue Creek Saloon. Taking off the costume’s heavy coat had helped. So had a few too many icy-cold beers that had gone down fast. Anything to stop thinking about his hard-to-please client.

      What should’ve been an easy project—building a compound of log homes, much like what his family had done on the ranch—had turned into a project from hell. After promising to work on a new list of must-haves from the client and his three adult children—all women and as opinionated as their father—Nolan had grabbed a seat on a late flight out of Spokane.

      He’d arrived home after dinner and relieved his mom from babysitting duty. Square footage calculations, source materials and window placement had continued to fight for space in his brain.

      Then instead of relaxing at home, he’d let his kids convince him that dressing up in this crazy costume and coming to the party was a good idea. Luckily, his brother’s lady love was a costume designer in the movie business and she’d sent a group of outfits to choose from for Halloween.

      But eyeliner?

      When Abby had insisted a pirate wasn’t a pirate without darkened eyes, he’d gone along with her putting the crap on his face, despite the mask that would cover it.

      Mainly because it was the first time he and his sixteen-year-old daughter had talked in weeks without fighting.

      The twins had chimed in and helped shave his beard, which was now mostly gone except for a strip outlining his jaw and a bad version of a goatee with beads dangling beneath his chin from braided whiskers.

      Proud of their handiwork, they’d insisted on snapping selfies with him, good-naturedly threatening to post the images online. He talked them out of that by agreeing to go snowmobiling if the weekend’s prediction of more snow came to pass.

      Abby had gone quiet, except to remind him she was grounded—under house arrest, as she put it—until the end of the month.

      Meaning he’d have to leave her behind and ask his folks to keep an eye on her.

      Something else the two of them continued to fight about. If she was old enough to drive and babysit her brothers, she was old enough to take care of herself.

      Nolan took a long draw on his beer. Even with his parents living next door, he wasn’t comfortable leaving Abby home alone.

      Not after the crap she’d pulled last month.

      Asking for yet another favor from his folks was something he didn’t want to do. Not after just getting home. Hell, his mom and dad were supposed to be retired.

      Thanks to his brothers’ love life, the family business was restructuring. Their dad was back with the company again and Nolan’s workload had increased, too. His mom claimed she loved being with her grandchildren while he traveled, but it was a lot to ask of a woman who’d already raised six boys.

      So he’d left tonight with the promise to discuss their weekend plans over breakfast. He could hear his kids going at it, the twins blaming their sister for spoiling their fun before he even got to his truck.

      The joys of being a single parent. Especially to teenagers.

      Sighing, he raised the mug to his lips for the last time and after a long chug set it down empty on the closest table. He checked his phone. After 1:00 a.m. and the party was still going strong, with more out-of-towners than he’d expected. He’d run into a few people he knew when he first arrived, most not realizing who he was until he told them.

      Yeah, the costume was that good.

      Since then, he’d pretty much been drinking alone while brushing off the interest of more than one female. Oh, he’d been charming, speaking in a fake pirate’s accent, which proved he’d seen too many reruns of the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise.

      And again, had too much to drink.

      Not that he was uninterested in pursuing something with the opposite sex. He hadn’t been a monk since his divorce five years ago, but lately it seemed he couldn’t get a certain redhead out of his mind.

      Another daily struggle, thanks to the fact she worked for him. For them.

      For the family business, which meant hands off.

      He’d thought he’d gotten a handle on whatever it was he felt for Katie, especially since her last relationship seemed to be the real thing, but now—

      Nolan cut off the thought. It didn’t make any sense to go down a path that could only lead to trouble.

      Not just for him. Or her.

      There was a whole group of people who’d be affected if he allowed—

      Damn, there I go again!

      He curled his fingers into a tight fist and pushed aside one image for another, bringing to mind the one person who’d caught—and held—his attention tonight.

      And who explained his surprising state of arousal.

      Everyone was here to be looked at. It was the point of a costume party, he guessed. When he felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, despite the crazy wig, he turned and found her staring.

      His first thought had been she was a pretty sexy-looking clown, until the pieces of her outfit came together as a Batman villainess, a cool throwback to his youthful preference for the bad girl.

      Temptation to lessen the distance between