When she reached the diner and prepared the coffee, that even made her cringe with disgust, her mood was so bad she wanted to slump to the floor and have a good cry.
“What’s got your crank?”
Pausing outside the double doors before heading out to deliver two egg platter specials, she offered a simple smile. “That time of the month.”
Bonzo chuckled. “Try again. This ain’t that kind of pissiness. You’ve been acting funny this morning.” His smile dimmed. “Something happen with your brother again?”
“No. I’m fine.” She lifted the plates. “These will get cold if I don’t deliver them.”
She pushed through the doors before Bonzo could interrogate her some more. The plates settled down onto the booth table with a light tap even though she ached to slam them down. Her nerves were still rattled. Her anger swam on the surface. She couldn’t even explain to herself why she felt this way. So ridiculous.
Maybe she could classify it as self doubt. It shouldn’t put her in such a cranky mood, though.
“Enjoy your breakfast, Mrs. Wayworth.”
A bright smile echoed back. “Thank you so much.”
She started to walk away.
“Oh, I meant to ask you something, Theresa. I spoke to Lynn yesterday.”
She slowly turned around.
“She said you were making her a few necklaces for Christmas gifts. My sister lives in New York and is just difficult to buy for. I love the idea of a necklace. Could you make me one as well?”
Holding back her dumbfounded look was impossible. Did Lynn do this on purpose? What was going on? Another order for her jewelry? She wasn’t that good. Or was she?
“I shouldn’t have asked. I know you work so hard at the diner every day. I still haven’t figured out why Bonzo doesn’t hire someone else to help.” The way Mrs. Wayworth said it, she honestly thought Bonzo overworked her on purpose.
Not true, of course. He could afford to hire another person, but every time he thought about it and asked her, she said it was all good. And it was. They were never too busy that they couldn’t handle it. If she ever needed time off, or got sick, Bonzo’s wife, Shelly, came in and covered for her. Her and Bonzo worked well together. They had a routine. Hiring someone else would disrupt that. Before she came along, his wife helped him. Then she got pregnant and wanted to stay at home with their twins, although she still worked on the weekends. The situation worked for them.
“I’d love to make you a necklace. They aren’t fancy or anything. I’m no professional.”
Mrs. Wayworth waved her hand. “Nonsense. I’ve seen expensive jewelry before, and honestly, half of that crap doesn’t compare to the beauty you create. I’ve seen the stuff you’ve made. I love it.” She pulled her wallet out of her purse and produced two twenties. “I’ll take two, please. One red and one green. Can you have them done by Friday? I know that only gives you two days, but Christmas is in less than three weeks and I have to mail them to New York. Will that be a problem? Am I being too forward?” She pulled another twenty out. “To make it a rush order.”
Wow. That was a lot of money. Too much.
“I can’t accept that much. I can have them finished by Friday.” She’d have to put Lynn’s to the side, but she figured Lynn wouldn’t mind and would understand the reasoning for it.
Mrs. Wayworth stood up and curled the money into her palm. All three twenties. “I insist. Consider part of it a tip for making such beauty.”
“But I haven’t made them yet. Maybe they’ll come out looking like crap.”
Mrs. Wayworth’s hand tightened around hers. “Have more faith in yourself. Believe in the beauty you create.” Her smile brightened as if rays of sunlight were shining upon them. “I’ll stop by in the morning on Friday to pick them up.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wayworth. I won’t disappoint you.”
She laughed as she took her seat again. “Of course not. I have no doubt they’ll turn out gorgeous.” Picking up her fork, she wagged it in front of her. “You just wait and see. Once my sister opens her present, you’ll have tons of orders. She knows lots of people.”
Theresa walked away, her dreary mood lifting. She had another order, even if Lynn was behind it. But why? To what end? Just to be a nice friend? She didn’t care. It was wonderful to know people liked her creations. Maybe her idea last night wasn’t so farfetched.
As she walked back through the double doors to grab another order that was complete, she decided it wasn’t a horrible idea, but she wasn’t ready to voice it to Bonzo yet.
Maybe she’d never be ready. That would take guts. Something she didn’t think she had. Not enough, anyway.
Chapter 4
The last two days dragged by. Aiden hated when he had off. Chief Duncan knew if there was overtime available, he’d be the first to jump in line. Work always helped him more than sitting at home by himself, the silence eating him alive. Of course, overtime was rare.
For the first time, he missed not just work, but heading to the café for his usual coffee. On his days off, he never ventured to the café. Hell, he rarely ventured out of his house, even though he hated the loneliness.
Theresa was starting to invade his senses. He couldn’t figure out how she did it. He had managed to keep his emotions in check since Cynthia died. Looking at another woman, let alone having dirty thoughts, was unacceptable. The last two days, he couldn’t get Theresa out of his head, or the thought that he should’ve kissed her on the lips instead of a chaste kiss on the cheek.
What was that about?
He told her it was because of the mistletoe. Which was mostly true. He did kiss her because they had been standing under the mistletoe. He couldn’t deny he also did it because he couldn’t control the impulse. He wanted to kiss her. That was something he hadn’t wanted to do in a long time. Too long, actually. He shouldn’t have given in. Kissing her, even as innocent as it was, probably gave her the wrong idea. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. Next time he stood under a mistletoe, there would be no kissing. Better yet, he’d never stand under one again.
It wasn’t right. These feelings were wrong and unwelcome. It’d be in his best interest if he skipped going to the diner for his coffee. That way he wouldn’t even be tempted to get Theresa under the mistletoe again and kiss her properly. On the lips with some tongue.
Yep, it’d be much better if he didn’t go to the diner.
Yeah, and how did that work out for him last time? He lasted, what, thirty minutes, before he caved in and went to get his coffee. Pathetic.
It wasn’t the coffee he craved. When he thought about it, which he tried his damndest not to do, he didn’t think he ever went to the diner for just coffee. He went because he wanted—
Thinking shit like that wasn’t helping. He knew better. He wouldn’t do anything but cause her pain. That’s all he was good for.
“Have a lovely day, Aiden.”
His steps slowed as he neared the front door of the precinct and glanced at Daphne, who sat behind the front desk counter.
“Yep. You, too.”
“Just one little smile. My Christmas gift from you.”
“I don’t do gifts, you know that, Daph.” He winked. The closest thing he’d offer besides a smile. She asked every day for one, and every day he could never muster one up even to make her happy.
“One of these days...” She shook her finger at him as she laughed. “Oh, are you stumped on a gift for your mom? Because every year you rush at the last minute trying to figure out what present to get her.”
That statement hurt. Daphne obviously tried to make it sound like every year meant every year for years, when in reality, it meant last year only. Every year before that, Cynthia handled the gifts. For everyone they knew. Not because he couldn’t handle it. Because she liked to control everything. She always thought she knew best.
So laughable. His mother never liked any of the gifts he gave her. Not that she ever voiced it. But he saw it in her eyes every time she opened them.<
br />
Not last year, though. He did have to scramble to grab a gift for her because his emotions had been haywire. He thought he had a better handle on everything, but he was obviously wrong. The strange feelings he had for Theresa was a prime example.
“It hasn’t crossed my mind yet.”
“Well, I have it on good authority that Theresa is finally taking orders to make necklaces for people. She makes such awesome jewelry. I don’t know why she didn’t start ages ago.” Daphne flashed another sweet smile. “Anyhoos, I think your mother would love a necklace made by her. You should ask her to make you one. But I’d hurry. I hear she has quite a few orders to do already and she might get too busy to make any more.”
Here he was trying not to think about her and Daphne was throwing her right into his thoughts. Even worse, she was forcing him to go speak to her. Because damn it, his mother would like a necklace from her. A memory filtered in as he remembered a comment she made one time on the necklace Theresa was wearing when they all ate at the diner as a family.
“Thanks, Daph.”
He left before she talked his ear off for the next hour, which was something Daphne excelled at. She loved to talk, no matter the topic of choice.
Pausing on the sidewalk, he glanced both ways. Right to the café? Left to his car? Making decisions sucked, yet he found his feet moving to the right. He always got a coffee and he’d be damned if his erratic thoughts about Theresa would sway him from getting what he always did.
The bell above the door jangled as he pulled it open and stepped inside. His eyes glossed to the mistletoe above.
Nope, damn it. No thinking about kissing.
He took a seat on a stool and waited patiently while Theresa helped a couple with a toddler at one of the booths to his left. He knew she worked from eight in the morning until five thirty every day. Yet she never looked as tired as he imagined she was. Who wouldn’t be rushing from table to table every day? The town might be small, but the café usually had steady business.
She turned, halting in her steps when she made eye contact with him. Did she feel the attraction between them as well? Or was the jerky movement more of a great-I-have-to-deal-with-him sort of halt?
Making her way behind the counter, she grabbed the coffee pot and a foam cup. Neither spoke. Not even polite pleasantries. He felt like a jerk not saying hello, but the words were stuck in his throat. Why did it keep happening more and more with her? Each time he saw her, he just wanted to soak up her beauty and sweetness. He needed some of that in his life.
No, you don’t. You don’t deserve it.
She set the coffee cup in front of him and smiled. For once, he wanted to return the smile, but he stopped himself.
“There you go.”
“Has your brother been bothering you lately?” Just like that, her smile disappeared. What was wrong with him? Where did that question come from? He was curious, especially since he didn’t trust her brother, but he never intended to ask that question.
“My brother isn’t your concern, Officer Crowl.”
Ouch! She sure knew how to put him in his place.
He stood up and leaned forward, his mouth inches from hers. She froze, not moving away as he wanted her to. As she should. Talk about playing hell on his nerves. He wanted to close the distance and claim her lips.
“It is when you call the cops.”
“Then I’ll stop calling you—the cops.”
“He’s dangerous. You better call if there’s a problem.”
Her breath hitched. “He’s not dangerous. He’s just…he needs help.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Why do you pretend to care?”
Pretend? She had no clue. Nothing he did was fake. Half the time it took extreme strength to control himself. Like now. He was finding it very difficult not to grab the back of her head and kiss her senseless.
“It’s my job.” Smooth answer, idiot. Well, he wasn’t looking for a relationship, so he couldn’t say anything else.
“Have a nice day, Officer Crowl.”
She effectively dismissed him. Didn’t he deserve that? Why did he start the entire conversation about her brother anyway? He leaned back as he pulled a five-dollar bill from his wallet. Oh, yeah, he did it because he needed to keep his distance. Making her hate him would help accomplish that goal.
He threw the five down and grabbed his coffee. Any trace of happiness she had disappeared. His eyes glided to the necklace around her neck. What would it hurt?
“Can you make my mother a necklace for Christmas? I think she’d like one.”
Theresa’s hand shot to the one around her neck, fingering the beads. Her face bloomed a light shade of red.
“I’m pretty…my orders lately…I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll have time to complete it before Christmas.”
Whack! It’s as if she slapped him. He had a hard time believing she couldn’t get it done in time. There was still two weeks left before Christmas. She just didn’t want to make him one. He didn’t blame her one bit. He acted like a jerk almost all the time with her.
“No problem.”
He walked away before he said something he’d regret. Or worse. Did something he’d regret. Like pulling her across the counter and kissing her. The sound of the bell ringing as he pushed open the door had him glancing up to the mistletoe. Dumb thing. He never wanted to see another mistletoe in his life.
Long, quick strides to his vehicle almost made him feel like he was running. Well, wasn’t he? He was good at running away from his problems. The best at it. He’d been doing it like an ace since Cynthia died. Shit. Maybe even before she died.
He stopped at his car, yanked his keys out of his pocket, and set his coffee on the hood. Before he could click the unlock button, a voice spoke. Glancing up, he didn’t even pretend to hide his annoyance. Of course, that didn’t deter Marybeth, the worse nuisance in town. Perhaps on the planet.
“Hello, Aiden. How are you?”
“Busy.” He clicked the unlock button and moved forward to get her to move back. He wanted to jump inside and drive far away. Just keep driving until he felt free and whole and like a normal human being for once. He didn’t think that would ever happen again.
Except Marybeth didn’t move and he stood way too close to her. He knew she had a real thing for Chief Duncan for the longest time, but she always had a perverse way of flirting with any man. Him included. Hating to be so in her face, he took a step back. She had the audacity to smirk and chuckle.
“Did you forget, silly?”
“About?”
She clucked her tongue, then rubbed a hand down his arm. “Oh, you did. Are you okay? I know it’s hard with Cynthia gone, especially around the holidays, but it’ll be okay.”
He shook off her hand that insisted on resting on his hand. “I’m fine.”
“Well, you weren’t at the meeting yesterday.”
“What meeting?”
She had the nerve to look peeved that he forgot whatever it was she thought he was supposed to remember. He honestly had no clue what she was talking about.
“The committee meeting that puts on the annual Christmas party. It’s in a week and, while we have most things done, you said you’d help on the decorating crew.”
“When did I ever say that?” He knew for damn sure he would never do something like that. Maybe when Cynthia was around he would’ve been suckered into helping, her insisting it would be good for him. He’d cave because if he didn’t do it, well, things could get real ugly, real fast when he declined to do something for her.
“Last year. Remember? You made an off-hand comment at the party on how some of the lights hung crooked and you could’ve done a better job. I asked if you’d help next year to put up the decorations and you said yes.”
He sighed. Marybeth sure knew how to twist words to her liking. Just one of the many things he couldn’t stand about her. He never liked her when Cynthia was alive and they were inseparable, and he sure didn’t like her now. In fact, he
had no reason anymore to be nice to her since Cynthia was gone. Except his mother would have his hide if he was rude. She raised him to be a gentleman, not an asshole. Of course, he kept acting like one with Theresa.
“I never said that.”
“Yes, you did.”
He couldn’t recall the conversation word-for-word, but he knew he’d never volunteer to help hang decorations. He did remember how one string of lights hung sort of low, yet the way they were situated made it look like it was done intentionally. He was positive that’s how he phrased it. And she never asked him to help this year. He hadn’t even wanted to go to the party, but Bentley, his best friend, forced him to get out of the house. No one would be forcing him to go to the party this year.
“Well, it’s too late now. I missed the meeting.”
“No, it’s not. I took notes. We can meet later to discuss them.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “After your shift. At your house.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling more tired than annoyed by Marybeth’s clear way of trying to insert herself into his life. And why? Because Chief Duncan was now off the market? What made her think he’d ever want a relationship with her? Because it would be a cold day in hell before that happened.
“Officer Crowl, I’m sorry for…” Theresa’s words died as he turned his body slightly and she saw Marybeth standing in front of him. “Oh, you’re busy. I didn’t see you there, Marybeth.”
“Theresa.” Marybeth smiled, yet Aiden could see the disdain in her eyes.
“Never mind. I’ll leave you two alone.” Theresa turned to leave.
His hand shot out, grabbing hers before she could step out of his reach. Although the cold snaked around him, his hands freezing from the low temps outside, the warmth from her hand heated him up. All over. Inside and out. He almost dropped her hand from the electricity coursing through him. Almost, but he couldn’t. The ache of desire was too strong. Instead, he pulled her a few steps closer, tempted to drop her hand and wrap his arm around her waist so she could be as close as possible to him.
The feelings she invoked were so unwelcome. Regardless, he didn’t drop his hand from hers.
Mistletoe Magic (A Holiday Romance Novel Book 2) Page 4
