A Sunday Love

Nisbet

Chapter 1

Arielle Bradford rolled down the window of her 2005 Thunderbird and let her curly blond hair fly freely in the wind. Quite a change from the refined image of a psychologist that she normally portrayed, curls tamed, pulled back, and securely clipped in place. She relished the feel of the breeze in her hair and realized just how much she needed this vacation.

Since she had begun practicing therapy in Santa Barbara almost five years ago, the only time she had taken off was for a few quick trips to San Francisco to see her best friend Sophie. Recently her friend had moved to Canden Valley, two hours closer to Santa Barbara. And once again it had been Sophie who had offered Arielle an excuse to take time off. But this time Arielle had made the decision to take more than a couple days or even the single week that was necessary to help her friend prepare for her wedding. She was taking a month.

Anxiety and excitement combined to give her stomach a gentle jolt. She was really doing this. Guilt poked its way through the excitement. She quickly rationalized it away. She was leaving her patients in the excellent and capable hands of her new partner. Now all she needed to worry about was that after a month with Jasper, they might prefer him. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and reminded herself that she had never been insecure before so why start now? At least not in her professional life.

And what the hell? She was only twenty-seven. If she didn’t indulge herself and take time to play and have fun now, when would she? She had plenty of money stashed away to support herself for a while. She could have taken two months off. But for now, she was impressed with her decision to take a solid month to hang out and play in the tiny village of Canden Valley.

She smiled as she visualized the pub, B and B, general store, book café. There were other businesses, but those were the ones where she had spent time when she came up for her maid-of-honor dress fitting and to attend Sophie and Sean’s engagement party seven weeks ago.

She had to admit that she was surprised by how much she had enjoyed herself. Other than meeting Sean and his parents, she had especially enjoyed spending time with Sean’s sister Skye and their Cousin Anne. And of course, she always loved catching up on Sophie’s life.

A stone shot up from the highway, hitting her windshield. Arielle caught her breath and released it slowly, quickly reaching over to close the window. It was only a stone, she told herself. What was the big deal? As left-brained as she prided herself on being, she was also intuitive and she did have her superstitions. Well, not exactly superstitions as much as believing in signs and synchronicity. And a stone hitting a windshield was definitely a sign. The question was, a sign of what?

Probably nothing. She laughed at herself as she glanced in the mirror. Or maybe something foreboding, such as that spending a month in Canden Valley was not in her best interest, that she was in for some surprises, possibly in the form of stones being thrown at her, whether literally or figuratively.

Her mind immediately flashed on Matthew McCullough. Why did she have to be attracted to a man who obviously had no interest whatsoever in her? Actually, it was worse than simply not noticing her. He seemed to have taken a disliking to her. Maybe it was disdain for her profession. Or maybe he had something against five-foot, five-inch tall blonds.

A slow smile crept across her face. Unless his Cousin Skye was right and he really was attracted to her. Smitten, was the word she had used. Skye had insisted that despite Matt’s having taken a vow of bachelorhood after his marriage had ended in divorce, the moment he had set eyes on Arielle, he was smitten.

Arielle groaned. Yeah, right, so if that was the case, why did he avoid her like the plague?

She shook her head as if she could shake him from her thoughts. Easier said than done, particularly since she’d spent the last seven weeks obsessing over the guy, imagining what it would be like to kiss him, be held in his arms, make love to him. She felt her cheeks burning and looked in the mirror to see that yes, despite being alone in her car, she was blushing as she considered the possibility that the real reason she had decided to spend a month in Canden Valley was not Sophie, not a much-needed vacation, but Matthew McCullough.

No, she seethed out in a whisper. Absolutely not!

She missed Sophie. She loved Sophie. They were as close as sisters. Closer! She wanted to help with the wedding. She wanted to get to know Sophie’s new family. Damn, she was good at rationalizing. But hell, she did need a vacation. And she had earned it! She needed to rejuvenate herself to do her patients justice. She’d been a workaholic for close to five years. Of course she needed this time off.

She frowned at the driver in front of her who could not decide between driving sixty-five and eighty miles per hour. How had that happened anyway? When had she turned into a workaholic? She pulled into the slow lane to pass the erratic driver and pushed aside all thoughts on the subject of workaholism. She may be good at analyzing her patients, but she was not into self-analysis. Been there, done that. Fait accompli.

Now if only she could chase a certain six-foot tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed McCullough cousin from her thoughts as easily.

She pulled off the highway and into a rest stop. Bathroom break. Leg stretching break. She glanced out the car window at the coffee vending machine. Not a chance. She pulled back onto the highway, exiting again a few miles up the highway at an unassuming beach town. Much better. Cute café with freshly-brewed coffee. She could still stretch her legs and use the restroom.

Smiling, she pushed open the door to enter the charming atmosphere. As she waited in line, her mind flashed on the Village Book Café in Canden Valley. Then to Santa Barbara and its amazing wealth of bookstores—with new books—and cafes with all the yuppie drinks any young psychologist could possibly want. Yet the tiny used book café in Canden Valley tugged at her heart. What did it have that the others didn’t?

Everyone knew each other for one. Marianne and Sam remembered your name and your preferred drink after your first visit. The books were used but well loved. And it was as unpretentious as you could get. Of course, due to its location, half of the customers were McCulloughs. Sean and Sophie frequented the place. Nick ate breakfast there most mornings. Well, maybe not so much anymore now that Skye and he were waking up together every morning. Even Matt stopped by there when he was en route to a job site in Canden Valley, which he would be doing often now since he had broken ground on Sophie and Sean’s new house.

Hell, how had she noticed all this during a three-day visit? She laughed aloud, stopping when she noticed everyone in the café staring at her. If she were standing in line at the Village Book Café, they would have laughed with her, waved, and asked her what was so funny. Suddenly she was anxious to get back on the road.

Yep, she needed this vacation desperately. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she needed a multitude of other things in her life, not the least of which was a very sexy McCullough man in her very lonely bed.

* * *

She’s on her way, Skye said tauntingly as she pushed a pint of Belhaven across the bar toward her Cousin Matt.

Who? Matt took a long swallow of the beer. Why did it always taste better when he’d just finished hammering nails and propping up walls for several hours?

Arielle.

His forehead wrinkled and he glared at his cousin. Who?

Skye rolled her eyes and slapped a dish towel down on the bar. The more you pretend that you don’t know who Arielle is, the more obvious it is that you want to get her into bed.

Matt slammed his glass down on the bar harder than he’d meant to. What the hell are you talking about, Skye McCullough?

Skye grinned, never one to shy away from her idiot male cousins and the truth. You’re pathetic, you know that?

Matt reached across the bar and yanked her long brown hair that matched his. Don’t give me grief, Skye. You’ll regret it.

Ah, now we’re talking, she thought. She liked it when she could rile her oldest cousin. She rested her hands on her hips and met his glare. Yeah, what are you going to do?

Besides putting you over my knee? Matt looked around The Village Pub that was owned by their Uncle Palmer and Aunt Emily. Spotting the love of Skye’s life, the other bartender, Nick Callen, he called out, Hey, Nick. I need your help here.

Now Skye raised a single eyebrow in amusement. Seriously? she said. Nick is your secret weapon? Good luck with that.

Nick finished taking an order and walked over to the sparring cousins, joining Skye behind the bar. Hey, Matt, what’s up?

My cheeky cousin here seems to be determined to give me grief. She has it in her head that I have a thing for Sophie’s friend Arielle.

Nick looked from his face to Skye’s. When he felt her hand reach over and grab his ass, he laughed. The power of persuasion.

So what do you want me to do? Referee?

I want you to tell her that’s a load of crap. I have no interest whatsoever in Arielle—or whatever her name is. You saw me at the engagement party, I didn’t go anywhere near her.

Mmhm.

Skye’s hand, still resting on his ass, squeezed harder, and he turned and winked at her.

Matt, busy grabbing some beer nuts from a bowl, missed the exchange. Tell her!

It’s true, Skye, he said with a hint of a mocking tone in his voice. He did avoid her at the party—just like a wise hiker avoids stepping in quick sand.

Quick sand? Matt said.

Yep. Dangerous as hell. You take even the tiniest step in and you’re a goner.

Matt was quickly grasping his meaning. Traitor, he murmured. I don’t know why the two of you think I’m attracted to her.

Sorry to break it to you, cuz, but it’s not just the two of us, Skye said

Matt groaned. Shit. Are you trying to tell me I’ve become the subject of McCullough gossip?

You could say that.

So, who else thinks I’m into Arielle?

Skye and Nick exchanged amused looks. Let’s see, who would you say, Nick? Besides Gram and Gramps, Mom and Dad, Aunt Emily and Uncle Palmer, Aunt Nan and Uncle Grant—

Please tell me, not my parents.

Skye shrugged. Dunno. Haven’t talked to them in a while.

Thank God for small mercies. He was relatively certain his parents hadn’t heard the latest chain of family gossip. There was definitely an advantage to living in Winslow, twelve miles away from Canden Valley. If they had heard, his father would have been unrelenting in an attempt to confirm the story. He would have brought up the subject every time they were out on a construction site together which was almost daily.

So who else? He frowned as he pushed his empty glass toward Skye for a refill.

She obliged as Nick continued the list of cousins he had been memorizing. Let’s see. There’s Sophie and Sean of course.

Matt cringed.

And you know if Sean and Skye know, they’ve told their little brother Sloan.

Naturally.

And if your Cousin Anne knows, she’s told her siblings Alex, Aidan and Allie, Nick said, pleased with himself for remembering the names of the twins whom he was yet to meet. It helped that each set of parents had selected a letter from the alphabet with which to begin all of their offspring’s’ names, thereby making it easier for outsiders to remember which were siblings and which were cousins.

Aidan and Allie are in England!

They Skype, Skye offered.

Lovely, Matt grumbled.

As does Kelly who I told all about it, not that she didn’t notice it at the engagement party herself. And, Skye said, I think I remember her mentioning that she Skyped Kieran and Kayleigh all about it.

Matt rubbed his hand through his thick dark hair and groaned. Is there anyone who hasn’t heard this rumor? he asked, emphasizing the word, rumor.

Doubt it, Nick said.

What about my siblings?

Well, since Megan stopped in at the pub the other evening after work, and she and Skye and Sophie were discussing it—Nick reached over and gave Matt a sympathetic pat on the back — I would assume Megan told Mairi and Morgan—did I get the names right? he asked Skye, not having met Matt’s other two siblings, Mairi and Morgan yet.

Perfect, Cowboy. Skye slid her arm around Nick’s waist. I’m impressed.

He smiled at the nickname she’d recently given him that was more ironic than anything else, just as his nickname for her was. Thank you, Sweet Pea. I aim to please.

Mmm, and you do that very well.

Matt groaned loudly. Take it upstairs, would you?

Skye laughed as she recalled how many times she had told Sophie and Sean to take it across the street when they were so sickeningly lovey dovey. It suddenly didn’t seem so disgusting anymore.

Don’t worry, cuz, we won’t say anything.

Who else would you tell? If all the McCullough cousins have heard this pathetic gossip, everyone in Canden Valley has heard it.

Skye feigned a serious look. No one in Winslow knows.

Gosh, thanks, he said. Anyone else knowing about this wouldn’t make a whole helluva lot of difference anyway. There was enough ammunition for his family to tease him until the turn of the next century.

Skye walked around the bar and gave her cousin a quick hug. Yes, it would, she said.

Hunh?

She slapped him gently upside the head, something she did often when she thought the McCullough men were behaving like idiots.

What’d you do that for? Matt asked, grabbing her hand so she couldn’t do it again.

Because you’re being an idiot. The one person who doesn’t seem to know the truth is you, cuz. And the sooner you do, the happier you’ll be.

He frowned at her and swallowed down the rest of his beer, anxious to get on the road home to Winslow. If he wanted a beer after work, from now on he would be stopping at the inn on the highway. He didn’t need this crap. And he sure as hell didn’t need to be told how he felt about a certain blond whom he was having a great deal of difficulty keeping his mind off.

He tossed a ten dollar bill on the counter before heading for the door. Yep, suddenly the Dunedin Inn on the highway just outside of Winslow looked extremely good. The beer was just as cold. Okay, so they didn’t have Belhaven or McEwan’s. It was still refreshing. And there were a helluva lot more women there than at the family pub in Canden Valley. Women who would love to spend a night or two with him, but didn’t expect anything else.

He pushed open the door, momentarily blinded by the autumn sun. Yep, plenty of women who could keep his mind off Arielle Bradford. The inn looked better and better, he thought, closing his eyes for a moment while he dug in his pocket for his sun glasses. So did Winslow. Good plan. Other than working on Sean and Sophie’s new house, all he had to do was steer clear of Canden Valley and— Arielle!

Hello, Matt! She was smiling as she climbed out of her steel blue Thunderbird. Tight jeans, tighter T-shirt, blond curls falling down to her shoulders. God, she looked good. Even better than he’d remembered.

Uh, hi. Sophie and Sean are out at the farm.

I know, she said, walking straight toward him as is she were going to do something like—damn!

Her arms went around him for a hug. He could have stepped back. He could have put up a hand to stop her. But instead he stood there like an idiot and let her press her body—God, what a body—against his. Then a gentle kiss on the cheek that made him dizzy. Uh, what was that for? he asked, when she’d finally let go and stepped away from him.

Just my way of saying hello. I’m a hugger.

Oh.

So, how have you been? Arielle asked as she stared into his deep blue eyes that were yet to be covered by the sunglasses he was fumbling with. He obviously wasn’t comfortable being hugged, at least not by her. But he certainly hadn’t objected. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, he had actually started to enjoy it. More than enjoy it. He was totally turned on.

Okay. Fine, he mumbled. Working on the house for Sean and Sophie.

I heard. Can’t wait to see what you’ve done.

Doesn’t look like much yet. He stepped out of her way as she headed toward the pub entrance. Stopping in for a glass of wine?

Actually, I’m a Belhaven girl.

His eyebrows raised in surprise.

But not why I’m here.

Why are you here? He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to care.

To pick up the key to my apartment.

Apartment?

Yep. Nick and Skye moved into a rental house in town so I could use his studio apartment upstairs while I’m here.

Oh. Didn’t know. Thanks a lot, Nick, for the warning.

She nodded. Really sweet of them. Sophie and Sean were going to move to his parents’ so I could use their apartment over the general store, but Skye told them it would be easier for Nick to move out of the studio. Apparently he needed a bigger place to put all his furniture from San Francisco anyway.

Makes sense, Matt mumbled, his eyes straying upward toward the apartment above his aunt and uncle’s pub. She was going to be staying right there? Upstairs from his favorite watering hole? For a month? Shit. He’d definitely be making do without a Belhaven for a while.

Chapter 2

So, Skye was right. Matthew McCullough was attracted to her. He may not like her, but he certainly couldn’t deny his attraction. She laughed as she watched him trudge toward his truck, still fumbling to get those sun glasses to cover those blue eyes that were as deep as the ocean. She was still smiling when the pub door swung closed behind her. He could deny it all he wanted but he’d be lying through his teeth. Five seconds into that hug and he’d become aroused. Maybe three seconds.

But why had she hugged him in the first place? Yep, she was a hugger all right, but Matt? Maybe because he was the first McCullough she’d run into when she arrived in Canden Valley? Or because he’d occupied her thoughts for the better part of the trip and as a result, she couldn’t contain herself when she saw him? More plausible.

Arielle! Skye set down a tray of glasses and made her way toward the door to greet her new friend. This time her hug was comfortably received. You just missed my Cousin Matt. Skye released her and stepped back. No, you didn’t.

No, I didn’t what?

No you didn’t miss Matt. You’re blushing. Skye rested her chin in the palm of her hand as is she were playing therapist. My guess is that the reason for those pink cheeks is that you did see him. My analysis is that you’re still attracted to the idiot.

Arielle scowled. Yes, I did see him. And no, I’m not blushing.

Are too.

Am not! She pressed her hand against her cheek and realized that Skye was not exaggerating. So, are you going to get me a Belhaven? I’m dying of thirst here.

Skye laughed, took her hand, and pulled her over to the bar. Hey, Cowboy, she addressed the other bartender, how about a Belhaven and a root beer?

Nick looked up from the customers he was serving at the opposite end of the bar. Anything for you, Sweet Pea. Hey, Arielle! You made it.

I did.

Nick walked around the bar to hug her. Then pulling a key from his pocket, he handed it to her. All yours.

Are you sure you’re okay with this? I feel as if I’m displacing you.

Not at all, Skye said. "We moved Nick’s things down from the city last week so we’re all snug and settled into a cottage right here in the village.

You’re sure?

Positive. We’ll be moving into our own house soon anyway.

On the McCullough farm?

Skye winked at Nick as he headed back behind the bar to get their drinks. We were planning to build one, but my parents are talking about giving us the big house.

Seriously? How do you feel about that, Nick?  Arielle asked, always the analyst.

First I’ve heard of it. That’s really generous of Ivy and Nigel.

But you’re moving onto their territory. Either way actually.

Territory I don’t mind being on. Of course it helps that we’re talking ten acre parcels. Plenty of buffer space. But truth is, I wouldn’t mind if we were right next door. They’re a great family.

Yeah, they are, Arielle agreed, happy that Sophie too had finally found the family she had missed as a child.

Your folks really said that we could have the big house? he asked Skye, setting the drinks on the counter.

Yeah, Mom mentioned it yesterday.

Why didn’t you tell me?

She closed her eyes trying to recall. Uh, I think I got interrupted? And distracted. And—

Nick grimaced and heat crept up his neck to his cheeks. Oh, yeah, I guess we did get a little carried away.

Knock it off, you two, Arielle said.

Jealous? Skye asked.

Oh, yeah. It’s been a while, if you know what I mean.

Nick coughed uncomfortably at the direction this conversation was taking.

Well, maybe you’ll get lucky while you’re here. Canden Valley has a way of changing people, Skye said.

Nick coughed again. I think that’s my cue to leave.

Wait! Skye protested. I need to know how you feel about it. Mom was thinking maybe it’s time for them to build a smaller house.

What about her kitchen? Arielle asked, knowing how important a kitchen was to Ivy, family chef and baker and B and B hostess that she was.

Don’t worry, they may build a small house, but my mom will make sure the kitchen is exactly what she wants, even if it takes up half the space. If we take them up on their offer, they’ll build theirs on the piece of land they gave me, and they’ll give us the parcel the big house is on.

Sounds as if they’re anticipating a lot of grandchildren, Arielle said.

Skye winked at Nick. Hmm, maybe you’d better put a wedding ring on my finger sooner rather than later.

Music to my ears, Nick said, leaning over the bar to kiss her. You name the date.

Arielle laughed and shook her head, wishing she had been there to watch the demise of the wall Skye McCullough had built around her heart. Instead she’d had to hear about their courtship second hand.

What about Sean and Sophie? Nick asked. Don’t they want the big house?

Skye shook her head. They offered it to them, but Sean has his heart set on building Sophie’s dream house for her. You know, the one with the white picket fence around the cottage—very large but cozy cottage—with chickens and goats and dogs running around.

Sounds like Soph, Arielle murmured.

Skye focused in on Nick again. So, what do you think? Are you okay with that? Or would you rather build a house? The farmhouse may not be your style.

Hey, anything is okay with me if it means coming home to find you—

Don’t say it.

Don’t say what?

Coming home to find me in the kitchen with an apron wrapped around my waist, slaving over a hot stove.

Mmm, nice image too. But what I was going to say was coming home to find you sitting on the couch, sipping a root beer.

That’s all?

There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes that quickly turned sheepish. Naked.

Arielle laughed and took a long sip of her Belhaven before climbing down from her barstool. Okay, now I think that’s my cue to leave.

* * *

Matt slammed his fist against the steering wheel of his truck, causing his dog to cower and crawl into the jump seat behind him. How the hell could he get turned on by a friendly hug? That was all it was. A stupid greeting. What the hell was the matter with him? And now he was sitting there, stupid as shit, as if he’d forgotten how to drive. He’d turned on the engine for God’s sake. Why the hell couldn’t he put the truck in reverse and his foot on the gas pedal and get the blazes out of there?

Sorry, Truf. He reached back to pat his dog’s warm brown head. It’s safe to come out now. Maybe. The dog raised its head, a willing recipient of any affection that was offered him, but held his seat.

He’d never been so humiliated in his life. Turned on by a twenty-second hug. Actually it had only taken three seconds for that to happen. All he could do was hope she hadn’t noticed. Good luck with that, McCullough. The lady is a therapist. She notices everything. Another reason to steer clear of her.

He groaned. He’d been sitting there for ten minutes now, like a dumbfounded idiot, polluting the Canden Valley air. Drive or turn off the engine, he said aloud. He reached up and turned off the engine. What the hell? He should be driving. He had another job site to check on. What was he waiting for? As if he didn’t know. But why? He didn’t want anything to do with her. Or any woman for that matter. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He enjoyed women plenty. He just didn’t want any complications, or any women flitting in and out of his life . . . and his heart.

And he certainly didn’t want any woman coming along and disrupting his children’s lives. It was bad enough that their mother had left them when they were one and three years old. They didn’t need to get attached to a woman and have her walk out on them again. Thank God they had plenty of loving family and role models in their lives with his parents and siblings and all the other McCulloughs.

He was proud of the life he had provided for his children. They lived with him in Winslow, next door to his parents’ home. When he couldn’t be home, his parents picked up the slack. Mostly his mother. Despite her being a busy principal at the elementary school in Winslow, she always had time for her grandchildren. And when she wasn’t available, his sister Mairi, who still lived at home, stepped in.

And of course, they came to visit the rest of the family in Canden Valley on weekends. They rode horses at Aunt Nan and Uncle Grant’s horse ranch or picked organic apples from Aunt Ivy and Uncle Nigel’s farm or baked cookies with Ivy and Skye or made beaded necklaces with Aunt Emily—at least Belle did. Brandon preferred hanging with the men. And both of his children enjoyed playing checkers with their great grandparents, Evan and Eleanor.

And there was Charlotte’s family as well. The Callahan ranch was adjacent to his Aunt Nan and Uncle Grant’s ranch. He let the children spend weekends with their maternal grandparents frequently. Their Aunt Cassie’s recent return to Canden Valley was an added bonus. Despite Charlotte’s having walked out on him and their children, he loved her family. He had never blamed them. Nor had he held it against them. And he sure as hell didn’t want her parents to suffer any more than they already had. His children were the light of their lives. God knew they needed some light.

Knowing how much it meant to Doug and Sherry Callahan to spend time with their grandchildren, Matt could never have denied them that. And it was important to him that since they didn’t have the advantage of knowing their mother, they at least got to know someone from their mother’s family. They were part of them, after all.

He was grateful that he was not alone in raising his children. Never had the expression, It takes a village been more appropriate.

Damn! She was coming out of the pub again. He quickly opened the driver’s door and slammed it, making it appear as if he had just climbed into his truck. But before he could turn over the engine, she looked up. Those eyes were burning a hole into him. A therapist’s eyes. Worse than a grandparent’s eyes. They saw way too much.

He swallowed hard against the burning sensation in his throat but could not force himself to look away from those hypnotic eyes. Very nearly turquoise, not a color he’d seen in eyes before. He nodded at her and looked down at his hands, one wrapped around the steering wheel, the other reaching for the keys in the ignition.

Arielle waved casually and headed for her car. She opened the trunk and pulled out two suitcases. Amazing how much a petite woman could carry—well not totally petite—apparently it was possible to be petite and voluptuous at the same time. She lifted the suitcases which were obviously heavy up onto the wooden sidewalk and around the corner of the building to the staircase.

Shit! He slammed his fist down on his steering wheel again, wincing from the pain this time and cringing at the whine emanating from Truffula. Poor dog. Little