To A Macallister Born. Joan Elliott Pickart

in the lobby,” Aunt Charity said, then paused. “On second thought, buy me some, too. I love the stuff.”

      “Hey, I didn’t scare Jennifer intentionally,” Jack said. “It was a simple misunderstanding, that’s all.”

      “Which needs to be put to rest properly,” Aunt Prudence said.

      “You’re dead meat, buddy,” Brandon said, smiling. “Don’t argue the point any further, because you’d be wasting your breath. Apologize to Jennifer when you get the chance, and be done with it.”

      “Mmm,” Jack said, glaring at Brandon.

      “What I was saying to you when you were daydreaming,” Brandon went on, “is that you’re going to design our house while you’re in Prescott. I was bringing the aunts up to date on that.”

      “Oh. Sure. Right,” Jack said, nodding. “That’s what I’m going to do, fantastic architect that I am. I’ll have those plans to you and Andrea before I head to Ventura for the MacAllister reunion. Man, Christmas is going to be a zoo with the whole clan together.”

      “It sounds like fun,” Andrea said.

      “I think the kids outnumber the adults by now,” Jack said. “The MacAllisters are into having babies, that’s for sure. I’ll have to learn how to talk to munchkin-type people, since I’m going to be part of the MacAllister architectural firm in Ventura. No more New York City rat race and brutal winters. Maybe I’ll even learn how to surf.”

      “You did the smart thing by leaving New York,” Brandon said. “I’ve never been sorry I dropped out of the fast lane.” He smiled warmly at Andrea. “Coming home to Prescott was the best thing I ever did.”

      “Thank you, love,” Andrea said, matching his smile.

      “Jennifer’s hair is naturally curly,” Aunt Charity said. “No fancy perms or globby makeup for our girl.”

      “Aunt Charity, would you cut it out?” Jack said. “I’m not interested in all the little details about your Jennifer. She has an interesting house that I’d love to do some restoration work on, and that’s it. Period.”

      “I’m just chatting,” Aunt Charity said, batting her eyelashes at him.

      Jack shook his head and laughed.

      “Maybe flowers would be a better gift of apology for Jennifer,” Aunt Prudence said, pressing one fingertip to her chin. “Mmm. No, the chocolates are best, because Jennifer has fresh flowers at the moment. She caught the bridal bouquet at Megan and Ben’s wedding.”

      “So you said,” Jack said, rolling his eyes heavenward. “Which means Jennifer is to be the next bride and blah, blah, blah. I hope she’ll be very happy with whatever guy she snags.”

      “That’s the problem,” Aunt Charity said. “We can’t get Jennifer into snagging mode. Been working on that for years.”

      “So, it’s settled, then?” Aunt Prudence said, leaning toward Jack. “You’ll purchase some dainty chocolates for Jennifer?”

      Jack raised both hands in a gesture of defeat. “Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll buy the bribe and humbly apologize to Ms. Mackane. Can we change the subject now?”

      “Yep,” Aunt Charity said. “I’m ready for a sinful dessert. Bring it on.”

      The dining room at Hamilton House closed at eleven o’clock, then preparations were made for breakfast the next morning.

      Just before midnight, Jennifer turned off the lights, locked the doors to the dining room, then walked along the hallway to the quiet lobby of the hotel.

      She waved goodbye to the clerk on duty behind the registration desk, then headed toward the front doors, buttoning her coat as she went.

      As she passed one of the high-back chairs, a figure rose, startling her and causing her to gasp and stumble a bit.

      “I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

      Jennifer frowned. “Oh? You seem to be making it your life’s work as far as I can tell.”

      Jack closed the distance between them and extended a gold foil covered box toward Jennifer.

      “My peace offering,” he said, smiling. “A token of sincere apology for upsetting you by staring at your house. Sweets for the sweet, and all that.”

      Jennifer looked at the box, Jack’s face, the box, then narrowed her eyes as she met Jack’s gaze again.

      “Aunt Pru and Aunt Charity put you up to this, didn’t they?” she said.

      “Well…” Jack said slowly.

      Jennifer sighed and took the offered box of chocolates. “All right. So be it. I accept your apology, and the whole business is forgotten. You didn’t have to stay up until midnight to do this.”

      Jack shrugged. “I’m a night owl.” He paused. “May I walk you to your car?” What? he thought incredulously. Where did that come from? His intention had been to hand over the dumb candy, then head to his room and the soft bed that was waiting for him.

      Jennifer laughed, and a bolt of heat shot through his body, causing him to frown at his now-familiar reaction to the lilting sound.

      “You really don’t want to volunteer to walk me to my car, Mr—Jack,” Jennifer said. “It’s parked in the driveway at my house. Thank you for the candy. My son, Joey, and I will enjoy it. Good night.”

      “Wait a minute,” Jack said, as Jennifer started to move around him. “How are you getting home if you didn’t drive to work?”

      “I walked. Since you’re so familiar with the location of my house, you know it’s only a few blocks away, and the weather is surprisingly mild for mid-November in Prescott.” Jennifer shrugged. “So, I walked.”

      “Are you nuts?” Jack said, his voice rising. “You can’t stroll along the sidewalk at midnight. You’ll get mugged before you go ten feet.”

      “I certainly will not,” Jennifer said, matching his volume. “This is Prescott, Arizona, not…wherever it is you’re from.”

      “New York City, and I don’t care if this is cute little Prescott. You’ve got no business walking home alone at this hour.”

      “I do it all the time.”

      “Well, you’re not doing it tonight,” Jack said, taking her elbow. “Let’s go.”

      Jennifer jerked her arm free of Jack’s grasp.

      “You are, without a doubt, one of the pushiest, rudest men I have ever met,” she said. “You may be Brandon’s friend, but that doesn’t mean that I have to like you—which I don’t. Good night, Mr. MacAllister.”

      Jennifer marched toward the front doors of the hotel. Jack fell in step beside her, causing her to stop as she placed one hand on the door latch.

      “Now what?” she said.

      “I’m going for a midnight walk, that’s all,” Jack said, smiling at her. “If I happen to meander in the direction of your house…sue me.”

      “You’re really exasperating, do you know that?” Jennifer said. “Fine. Whatever. I’m not wasting any more of my time arguing with you. Your death, however, will not be on my conscience.”

      “What death? I thought you said it was safe out there on the streets.”

      “Oh, it is. However, you’re not even wearing the sport coat you had on at dinner. This is not shirtsleeve weather. If you get pneumonia and croak, it will serve you right.”

      Jack chuckled. A shiver slithered down Jennifer’s back as she heard the sexy, male rumble.

      “I don’t suppose,” he said, “that you’d