“Marybeth was just reminding me I volunteered to help hang decorations for the annual Christmas party. I forgot about it.” Lies. He never volunteered in the first place. But an idea formed the second he grabbed her hand and he couldn’t seem to toss it aside.
“Okay.” Theresa’s eyes glossed to their hands, then back to his face just as quickly. “I’ll let you guys talk about that.”
“You should be there, too.”
“I should?”
“She should?”
The surprise in both of their voices didn’t surprise him. What surprised him was that he actually agreed to volunteer and that he wanted Theresa there.
“You have a knack for decorating. You said you enjoyed decorating. You can help me.”
Theresa’s eyes narrowed. Would she call him out on his bullshit? The slight glare in her eyes said she might. Because she never told him she enjoyed decorating. Although, he did like how she decorated her tree, so that wasn’t a lie. She did have a knack for it.
She nodded once. “Sure, I don’t mind helping.”
He glanced back at Marybeth and almost produced a smile. His heart suddenly felt lighter. As if he’d been waiting for a moment like this. To lift his spirits for once.
“Why don’t you just give me those notes you took and Theresa and I will take a look at them?”
Marybeth pursed her lips. Then a silky smile appeared. “I’ll drop them off later. The party is next Saturday. Mrs. Contreas wants everything up on Friday. Do not be late or forget.”
“We’ll be there.” He squeezed Theresa’s hand, but she didn’t say anything.
Marybeth gave him a saucy smile, no glance to Theresa, and walked away.
Holding Theresa’s hand was starting to make him itch with desire. So much so, he wanted to pull her roughly into his arms and kiss her. He was just about to let his control snap and do that when she yanked her hand free and took a step back.
“What was that?”
❄
Her hand still tingled from his touch. The confusion swirled around them with the brisk cold wind.
“I figured you’d enjoy it.”
Her eyes bulged out. He didn’t know her at all. No clue whatsoever about her likes and dislikes. Because she did not want to help decorate for the annual Christmas party. Why would she? She’d never been invited to it in her life. Growing up in the dismal part of town ensured that never happened.
“Why would you think that? I’ve never been to the Christmas party before.”
He frowned, his eyes narrowing, obviously trying to remember if she’d ever been to one. Which she hadn’t.
“Haven’t you ever wanted to go?”
“No.”
She opened her mouth to elaborate more, but decided against it. He didn’t need to know she always felt inadequate around Marybeth, Cynthia, and all the other girls that always made her life miserable in high school. They were always the bell of the ball, so to speak. Why would she want to surround herself around people like that? And around Christmas, a holiday she loved. All it would do was make her hate the holiday.
“You lied. You know I never said I enjoyed decorating.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but you have a knack for it. I never even volunteered to help. I don’t know what scheme Marybeth’s playing.”
A lame laugh filtered out. “Tell me you’re not really that dumb.”
The second those words came out, she felt ashamed of herself. What right did she have to speak to him like that? She twisted around to return to the café as fast as she could.
A hand shot out and grabbed hers, then spun her around. “You can’t just walk away from me.”
“Well, I just did. You’ll be late for work.”
He took a step closer. “Are you going to help me decorate or not?”
Yanking her hand out of his as politely as possible, because she couldn’t take how wonderful it felt for him to hold her hand, she nodded once. “I said I would.”
“Don’t look so happy about it.”
“Why do you even want my help? If you’re trying to make Marybeth jealous, I’d be the last person to accomplish that goal with. I’m nothing compared to her.”
His face turned hard, his lips curling into the most disgusted look she’d ever seen from him. Exactly what she thought. He agreed. Why else would he look so disgusted?
“You honestly believe that?”
With a helpless shrug, she averted her eyes. “It’s not like her or Cynth—” Her eyes darted to his. The look of disgust was gone, replaced with stoic indifference. “Just let me know when and I’ll be there to help.”
She turned around before more idiotic words came out of her mouth and hurried back to the café. The cold weather was starting to freeze her to the bone. While she could handle the cold, she had darted out of the café without grabbing her jacket before he could drive away. Or did she feel frozen to the bone from the terrible interaction with Officer Crowl? Why did she always act like an idiot around him?
Her hand grasped the cold handle of the diner door and pulled it open. Before she could step into the warmth, a hand touched her shoulder. She knew without looking who it would be. She turned slightly, almost resting against the open door. His hand fell to his side.
“You followed me outside for a reason. Why is that?”
She almost forgot why. Now, she wished she never had the crazy impulse. But her conscience wouldn’t let it go.
“I’m sorry.”
Confusion muddled his features. “For what?”
“For being so rude earlier.”
He rubbed his jaw, then looked away. “Forget about Marybeth. Forget about everything that just happened.”
She took a step toward the warmth of the diner, wanting to be finished with the conversation already. “Not about that. Although I am sorry if I said anything to offend you.”
His eyes locked with hers. “You didn’t. But I’m confused as hell. Why are you sorry?”
She let out a huge breath. “For saying I couldn’t make your mother a necklace. I can make one.”
“I don’t want to put more on your plate, Theresa. You already have some orders to take care of, not to mention working at the diner. Now you’re helping with the decorations...” A terrified panic entered his eyes. “You are going to help me, right?”
“I said I would.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, yet nothing came out.
“What kind of necklace would you like?”
He sighed, then relaxed his features. “Her favorite color is yellow. I’m sure whatever you come up with will be beautiful.” He took a step closer to her. “I have no doubt about that.”
“Well, then. That’s settled. Have a good day.”
He leaned in, a breath away. “Are things really settled between us?”
“Of course. You should get to work.”
“I should.” His soft lips landed on hers, exerting a small amount of pressure, then just as quickly, he backed away.
He took three steps toward his vehicle before she yelled, “What was that?”
Twisting to look at her, he looked at her deadpan, but with a tiny twinkle in his eyes. “Mistletoe.” He continued to walk away.
She turned and stepped inside, letting the door close behind her. Looking up, she eyed the mistletoe hanging. Odd. He was blaming the mistletoe again. But this time they hadn’t been standing directly underneath it. They were outside. The mistletoe hung inside. Did it still count if you weren’t standing directly underneath it?
She didn’t understand him at all. What was going on? What was he doing to her?
Her fingers touched her lips.
Did it matter what he was doing? He kissed her on the lips.
She dropped her fingers and shook her head at the silly notions running through her mind. It didn’t mean anything. He would never like her like that. Never in a million years.
Chapter 5
Aiden pulled behind the fire truck, his lights fl
ashing, but the sirens off. As he stepped out of his vehicle, the lights lit up the dark night sky, yet nothing could light up the ugliness inside him. Nothing but—
There he was thinking things he shouldn’t. Since he walked away from the diner, from Theresa, that’s all he’d been doing. Thinking. His thoughts just had a mind of their own. He hated it. With a passion.
He walked between his car and the fire truck into the ditch and saw a car positioned at an angle. The front of the car looked damaged. It’d take a miracle from a seasoned mechanic to fix it. No dents appeared on the bumper. A decent indication the person driving lost control on their own, not hit from behind.
He took a few steps down into the ditch and noticed an ambulance parked in front of the fire truck. A middle-aged man sat inside the ambulance, Chasity, the paramedic, held some white gauze to his head. Instead of heading for the ambulance, he made the rest of his way down the ditch to the vehicle where his best friend, and one of the firefighters, Bentley, stood by the busted up vehicle.
“What happened?” He tried not to cringe from the cold, wet snow seeping into his shoes.
“Pretty sure he’s drunk as a skunk. Swerved right off the road and into the ditch. Nasty cut on the forehead, otherwise, unharmed.” Bentley tossed his head toward the ambulance. “Asshole’s lucky he didn’t hit anyone else. He stumbled the entire way to the ambulance.”
“DUI. My favorite.” He walked around to the front where Bentley stood. “What are you doing here?”
“We were driving by. We were called to the Daughtry Farm because their five-year-old decided it would be cool to climb a tree after being dared by his seven-year-old brother, but then couldn’t get down. Of course, they didn’t have a ladder tall enough.” He bent down and pointed. “Looks like scrapes of white paint. I’m thinking knucklehead up there might’ve hit something before he crashed his car. What do you think?”
“I think I’m going to have a long night ahead of me.” He wasn’t mad or annoyed about it either. Better to be busy than time to himself to think.
Bentley slapped a hand to his shoulder and squeezed. “You live for this shit. But you look out of it. More so than usual. You okay, man?”
“I’m good.”
A slow grin emerged on Bentley’s face. “You sure? I heard some rumors.”
He rolled his eyes, not even willing to hide his annoyance. What lies was Marybeth spinning? “Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” A low chuckle left his mouth. “Something about you and Theresa.”
Okay. That was unexpected.
“And where did you hear these rumors? What rumors exactly?”
“Well, Daphne said—”
“Stop.” He held his hand up to halt any more asinine comments. “Daphne loves to spread the gossip. She never stops talking. Whatever she said is not true.” He tilted his head, curling his lips just a titch. “Haven’t you gotten over your little crush on her? Why were you talking to her? She’s been dating her boyfriend for the past two years and loves him to death.”
“The guy is an idiot. Who dates a beautiful, smart, gorgeous woman like her for that long and doesn’t put a ring on her finger? An idiot, that’s who.”
He tried not to wince at those words. Bentley could call him an idiot then. He waited years to ask Cynthia to marry him. Actually, he didn’t even ask her. It was more like, “Let’s get married next fall. I have the perfect ring picked out that I just adore.” She didn’t hesitate as she said it, or think anything strange about him not saying a peep. He was a little too stunned. Even more surprised when his mom called him to congratulate him. Cynthia just bulldozed over him and told his mom before he could.
Although, Bentley knew that. He couldn’t help but tell someone how she sort of railroaded him into marriage. The only part he didn’t tell Bentley was how much he didn’t want to marry her, but went along with it because that’s just what he did. He always listened to her without fail.
“Dude, did you hear me?” Bentley grinned deviously. “You have a thing for Theresa or what? Since when do you help the decorating committee for the Christmas party…”
Because Cynthia’s not here. Bentley’s unspoken words. He didn’t have to say it. He just knew what he meant.
“Since Marybeth suckered me into it and…” Shit. How could he explain dragging Theresa into it without making it look like he liked her? He couldn’t. Because, damn it, he did like her. He just didn’t want to.
Bentley’s smile died as he landed another hand to his shoulder and squeezed. This time in sympathy. “Dude. It’s been over a year. It’s okay to meet someone new and move on. Cynthia—”
“I should go talk to the drunk guy and slap some handcuffs on him. The fire department is free to leave. I’ve got it now.”
Bentley pierced him with a hard stare, then nodded, knowing damn well when he didn’t want to talk nothing was going to change his mind. Not even his best friend. Bentley didn’t even know the truth about Cynthia’s death. Nobody did. He’d kept that secret hidden inside so long, it was engraved on his heart. He’d never bare it to another soul. He deserved the misery for what he did to her.
“Wanna get a beer on your day off?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you later.” Aiden walked away before Bentley could pelt him with more words he didn’t want to hear. He had a long night ahead of him. He had to book a drunk idiot and investigate whether he hit anything else. Drinking and driving was one of his worst pet peeves. People with no care or concern for anyone else but themselves. The guy had what was coming to him. If he found out he hit something else, he planned to throw every little charge he could at the guy.
Yeah, it was going to be a very long night. He almost smiled at the thought. Because then his mind wouldn’t wander to things he shouldn’t think about.
Like Theresa’s beautiful face and the look of shock after he kissed her on the lips. Oh, how he wanted to dip his tongue in and show her what a kiss between them would truly feel like. He settled for a quick peck that left him aching for more. So much more.
What was she doing right now? Sleeping, perhaps. Making necklaces. Watching TV by herself…or with someone? Did she have someone in her life that he didn’t know about?
Not his concern. Theresa wasn’t anything more than a friend. That’s it. He’d do well to remember that. If there was a guy in her life, he’d know. Because Daphne would’ve never started to spread rumors about them if Theresa had a boyfriend. Why did she do that to begin with? She obviously had nothing better to do.
He stopped at the back of the ambulance, a fierce scowl on his face. Time for work mode. Although, right before he started to question the drunk guy, he realized something that made him shiver with unease. He’d been thinking too much the last few days. Nothing new there. Except the person he had been thinking about.
His thoughts always turned to Cynthia and the horrible way he treated her. The past few days, most of his thoughts had centered on Theresa.
Not good. At all.
If he could pull out a picture of Cynthia to remind himself of why it’d be bad to think about Theresa even a little bit, he would. Except he destroyed or gave away all the photos he had of her. He couldn’t stand the reminder of his failures. Of what he did to her.
Settling for conjuring an image of her would have to suffice. He had to remove thoughts of Theresa out of his mind. In any possible way.
Because nothing good would come from thinking about her. Or liking her as he did.
He’d just end up killing her like he did with Cynthia.
❄
Theresa got home on time, no problems with her brother, although he wasn’t returning her phone calls, so she did kind of consider that a problem. She made supper, worked on the orders that were starting to pile up, and tried not to think about Officer Crowl…Aiden. No. Officer Crowl. She needed to keep her distance. Especially when every time she saw him lately, his actions confused her.
Why did he keep kissing her every time
they were near a mistletoe?
By eleven o’clock, her fingers were tingling with soreness from stringing bead after bead after bead. But the important thing was she finished Officer Crowl’s necklace for his mother. Yeah, she had plenty of orders ahead of his, but the sooner she finished, the better everything would be. She was still trying to come up with a good excuse to get out of helping him decorate for the Christmas party. Although, any excuse that crossed her mind was so pathetic she knew he’d see right through the lie. She figured she just had to help him and move on.
Just move on. She could do that.
She went to bed, dreaming delicious things of a certain man she shouldn’t, and woke up feeling more tired than when she went to bed.
After a quick cup of coffee, a small berating for forgetting—again—to unplug her Christmas tree, which she immediately rectified when she saw it lit up, she then called her brother. Still no answer. Unless he was drinking, he never ignored her. She wouldn’t put it past him to be drunk this early in the morning. He could party into the late morning hours. To some people, nine o’clock wasn’t that early. To her brother, it was the butt crack of dawn.
Regardless, she worried about him. She hadn’t spoken to him since she bailed him out, and she had a dreadful suspicion he never got the help he insisted he would get. Her fault, really. She trusted him to do the right thing. Every. Single. Time.
Every time, he disappointed her. She should know better by now. So much for Officer Crowl’s tough love approach. Even spending the night in jail did nothing to change his ways. She wasn’t surprised.
Still. She had to make sure he was okay.
Grabbing her winter coat and scarf, wrapping it tightly around her neck, she headed the few blocks to her brother’s house. Or more like, the place he crashed at the most. He didn’t have a permanent address. While she felt bad not letting him live with her, she knew it’d be the worst mistake she’d ever make. Which is why she never offered. He’d steal from her and make her life more miserable than it already was when she had to deal with his drunken ass.
She didn’t like his friend Dusty, who always had too grabby of hands. She never said anything to him other than, “Keep your hands to yourself.” She even had to slap his hand away a few times when he tried to grab her ass. She could tell her brother. While he could be downright mean to her, when he was drinking, he was still her big brother. He’d hurt anyone who hurt her. She didn’t want to see him get into trouble for beating Dusty to pieces. Because he totally would.
Mistletoe Magic (A Holiday Romance Novel Book 2) Page 5
