Holiday in Your Heart by Susan Fox Page A

. . . Uh, well . . .” She stopped and considered. “Believe me, I know he can be appealing. But, Maribeth . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head.
    Suddenly, Maribeth was almost hyperventilating. Brooke had to say yes. Until that moment, Maribeth hadn’t realized how crucial it was that Brooke agreed. But now there was only one thought in her head, an echo of something Sally Ryland had just said. What if he’s the love of my life? What else was the click, the one she’d been waiting for all her life, about? If Mo was the one man for her, she had to find out. She had to make Brooke see.
    Maribeth was almost ready to speak the scary words aloud— What if he’s the love of my life? —when her girlfriend spoke again, her words coming slowly.
    â€œThere’s the age thing—ten years between you and Mo. But then again, Jake taught me that age doesn’t matter.” Her husband was several years younger than Brooke.
    Maribeth nodded. Age was just a number. What mattered was staying fit, physically and mentally.
    â€œYou’re just so . . . so everything he isn’t,” Brooke said. “Vivacious, upbeat, outgoing. Generous, sweet-natured. Even if I give Mo the benefit of the doubt and believe that he’s a reformed man, it strikes me that he’s—oh, what do they call it in the movies?”
    â€œA bad boy?”
    Brooke gave a surprised chuckle. “He sure used to be. But what I was thinking was a lost soul. I can see why he’d be drawn to you—why so many men are drawn to you—but I’d worry that he might . . .” She trailed off, her expression troubled.
    â€œHurt me?” Maribeth asked quietly.
    Brooke’s lips pressed together. “Do you mean hit you? Well, he does have a history, but then so do I. I hope he’s as far past it as I am—and if he ever tried anything, I know you’re strong enough to deal with it. You’d have him behind bars in an instant. No, I was thinking more that he might, uh, drag you down. That his angst might dim that lovely warm flame of yours.” She blinked. “But on the other hand, I’ve rarely met a woman who knew herself so well and was so self-confident. How many men have you dated? And none of them has changed you yet. No, I can’t see you giving any man that kind of power.”
    Was there something a bit odd about that endorsement? Maybe at some point Maribeth would revisit Brooke’s words and try to sort out what bothered her about them. But for now, the kettle was boiling, the coffee was ready, and the women in the living room would be wondering what was taking so long. Not to mention, her heart was still racing, hopeful about where Brooke was heading but needing that final confirmation. “Are you saying it wouldn’t bother you if I dated Mo?”
    Brooke shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t. I think you’d be good for him. God knows, I’m not sure the poor man has ever been with a woman who’s been good for him. I only hope that he’s good for you, too, Maribeth. But that’s for you to say, not me.”
    Maribeth crossed over to her and squeezed her hand. “Thanks.” She hoped so, too. It was so disconcerting, experiencing the magical click for the first time in her life at the identical time she was shopping for a sperm donor. If Mo wasn’t Mr. Right, hopefully they’d be friends and she would go ahead as planned with insemination. If he was, then she’d have an even more exciting “happily ever after.”
    She put a couple of Earl Grey tea bags into the teapot and a decaf peach ginger one into her own mug and poured boiling water into both. “Brooke, could you serve the tea and coffee? I’ll get the liqueurs and Sally’s pie.”
    When the two of them returned to the living room, the others were speculating about just how snowy a Christmas it would be.
    After everyone had been