Holiday at Magnolia Bay (Southern Born Christmas Book 1) by Tracy Solheim Page A

low country boil are you?” she asked, warily.
    The older woman looked up from the document she was scrutinizing. “Why, Sugar, I’m serious as a heart attack.”
    Which was exactly what Jenna was afraid of. “I don’t understand. This project will cost more than the donations we can collect at a simple barbeque.”
    Miss Evie discarded her glasses as Zarah gave a haughty swish of her tail. “It’s a Lowcountry boil . Definitely not a barbeque.”
    Jenna wasn’t raised in the South—she’d basically grown up all over the world—and she still couldn’t quite understand the etiquette for ordering iced tea versus sweet tea, much less fish fries, boils and barbeques. Miss Evie always forgave Jenna’s ignorance, but today her words were laced with disdain.
    “Still, it seems like a lot of work for you. We’d planned on promoting the project during the Christmas Flotilla and Fishing Tournament once all the plans had been finalized.”
    “You mean once Crocodile Dundee and his fiancée get my money?” Miss Evie gave an indelicate snort. “What nerve those two have. This has been your pet project for nearly two years. Your dream. Your creation. I told you, Sugar, you were crazy to press the board to bring him here. Didn’t I say he’d steal your thunder? Well not with my checkbook. As far as I’m concerned this project is yours to do with as you wish.”
    Relief and a little bit of pride settled in Jenna’s chest. “If you were going to fund the project, why did you suggest the low country boil?”
    Miss Evie laughed. “Oh, lordy, did you see that woman’s face when I did?” She laughed harder and Zarah let out an annoyed sigh before leaping off Miss Evie’s lap. “She was just a little too big for her britches, that one. She talked down to me the moment she walked in the door as though she could care less about Magnolia Bay or the people who live here. The hatchery will benefit this whole community, but all she saw when she looked at me was dollar signs. She can jump through a few hoops and ingratiate herself to folks in these parts before she takes my money and heads back to the land of Oz.”
    “I certainly hope no one is taking your money, Aunt Evie.”
    The husky timbre of Drew’s voice coming from directly behind her caused Jenna to nearly jump from her chair. Part of her had hoped to avoid seeing him. Definitely not the part that was quivering right now, though. When she’d last laid eyes on Drew Lanham, he’d been naked, his muscles well-defined within the bright moonlight—not to mention his arousal. Jenna’s mouth went dry just thinking about it and she squeezed her eyes shut fearing Miss Evie could somehow see the erotic mental picture of her godson that was happily flickering about in her brain.
    She hadn’t meant to invade Drew’s privacy last night. But instinct wouldn’t let her leave him alone on the beach. Not after what she’d seen in his eyes. When she’d doubled back after parking the Jeep around the bluff, he’d been standing with his ankles in the surf, looking very much like the wounded warrior Jenna believed him to be. But then he’d charged into the ocean, swimming steady laps parallel to the shoreline for thirty-eight minutes. She knew this because she’d kept watch on the time, twice nearly making her presence known when she felt he should be exhausted—or had punished himself enough. When he’d finally emerged, he looked more relaxed than any man who’d just burned nearly a trillion calories should. She’d watched from her hiding place behind the dunes as he nonchalantly picked up his clothes and strolled up the bluff toward Miss Evie’s guest house.
    “Drew!” Miss Evie said. “I’m so glad you joined us. You’re looking handsome this morning. Jenna, doesn’t he look handsome?”
    Jenna didn’t want to look for fear she might drool or moan or something worse, but her body was ignoring her brain. He was leaning against one of the round wooden columns