Holiday Havoc Read Online Free PDF Page A

Sean carried Lauren from the cab of his truck. Though small sconces by the front door illuminated the porch, all Sean could make out beneath his feet was a stone path and wooden slats. Her lightweight, slim body fit perfectly in the crook ofhis arms. Her head resting against his chest caused a hot spot over his heart.
    He opened the front door and strode inside, shutting the door with the heel of his running shoe.
    An overhead light shone from a fancy, antique-looking fixture, flooding the room with soft, yellow warmth. The cottage was small, but cozy. A cold fireplace with a wide wood mantel took up most of a long wall opposite the front door. A short Christmas tree stood unlit in the corner. An overstuffed couch butted up against the front windowpane and an oversize chair sat beside a bookcase lined with volumes.
    Very comfortable and homey. A place to come home to at the end of the day. He might have wanted a house like this for himself once. But not anymore. He didn’t deserve comfort.
    Two end tables were cluttered with sketch pads and an array of pencils. Apparently, drawing wasn’t a casual hobby for her. Maybe he’d check the beach in the morning and see if her sketch pad had survived the tide.
    Hardwood floors gleamed around a large, rose-colored area rug. Two arched doorways, one off to the left and the other directly across from the front door, led to darkened rooms.
    He took Lauren to the couch and set her down gently, then propped up her injured ankle with a frilly, colorful, flowered throw pillow. She smiled at him gratefully as she sank back with a sigh.
    â€œCan I get you anything? Something to drink or eat?” Sean asked, needing to do something besides stare at her pretty face.
    She shook her head and stared at him with wide eyesas if she didn’t quite know what to make of him. Did she still question trusting him?
    On the table beside her lay an open sketchbook. Thankful for the distraction and a safe topic, he gestured to the book and asked, “May I?”
    There was a moment’s hesitation before she nodded.
    Picking up the pad, he flipped through drawings of the seashore and the quaint town of Cannon Beach. The definition and shading in each picture captured a distinct mood. Details stood out, showing the talent behind the work. The art was in the delicacy of her small, capable hands.
    â€œI like your drawings.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œIs drawing a hobby or your livelihood?”
    Cannon Beach was known for being an artists’ colony. She could easily sell her work in any one of the many shops or galleries along the main street.
    She looked away but not before he glimpsed pain and regret reflected across her pretty face. “A little of both.”
    â€œThey’re very good. Have you gone to art school?”
    â€œI graduated from the Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, California.”
    Impressive. “How did you end up in Oregon?”
    â€œI’d been to Cannon Beach as a child and had always remembered how much I adored the community. Then after…” She placed her hand on her shoulder. “I just needed a change.”
    The scars. How had they happened?
    As quick as lightning, compassion infused Sean. His heart twisted with the need to offer comfort.
    No, his brain screamed, recoiling from traveling down that road again.
    He couldn’t reach out and risk failing to help.
    â€œWould you mind dragging over the clothes basket from the hall? The clothes are clean, I just haven’t put them away yet. I should change.”
    Grateful for the change in subject, he set down the sketch pad. “Sure.” He brought her the basket, from which she chose a powder-blue sweat suit. “I’ll just step out.”
    Escaping into the kitchen, he found the light switch. The space was small, but had a simple charm. White countertops were scrubbed clean, and the dining area hosted a small, round oak table with four matching