It was a little unnerving how well he could read her.
Mark stepped between them and wrapped her in a bear hug. “Hey, sis, you’re late.”
“I know. Sorry.” Lisa unzipped her coat and handed it over so he could hang it in the closet. Leaning down to stroke Daisy’s head, she said in an undertone, “You didn’t tell me Derek was gonna be here, too.”
“I just found out myself. Janelle stopped to pick up some donations he’d gotten for the New Year’s Eve silent auction and invited him to join us.” Mark paused on their way to the kitchen. “Why, is it a problem?”
“No, of course not.” She pasted on a smile and escaped his speculative gaze, only to have to avoid staring at Derek in his hip-hugging faded jeans. The white collar of his button-up shirt set off his black sweater. “Mmm, something smells good in here.”
Janelle closed the oven, exchanged hugs with Lisa, and leaned against the stove as she brushed a red curl back. “Thanks. I made burgundy pot roast with baby reds and steamed carrots. I put the rolls in when I heard your knock—they’ll be done in a few minutes.”
“I’m sorry I’m late, I had to stop at home and change. I had an interview in Green Bay and then stayed to see if I could get some donations for the fundraiser.”
“How’d that go?” Derek asked.
“I’m not telling you how much you need to catch up.”
“I meant the interview.”
“Oh.” She shifted her gaze from Derek, to Mark setting wine glasses on the counter. Daisy lay by Mark’s feet, and Duke watched Derek’s every move like he had tasty treats instead of wine. “Well…let’s just say they didn’t say no outright, but I’m not holding my breath, either.”
“Where’s the job?” Janelle dug a wine key out of the drawer for Derek.
“City Hall. But as usual, I don’t have the necessary experience.”
Bitterness tainted her words, and Derek’s hand stilled for a second before turning the screw into the wine cork with a forceful twist. So much for my assertion that I don’t care. Lisa moved over to the table so she wouldn’t have to meet Derek’s gaze.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked Janelle.
“No, thank you. As soon as the rolls are done—” The timer on the oven started beeping. Janelle smiled. “We can sit and eat.”
Mark grabbed a potholder and removed the pan. Janelle joined him to transfer the hot rolls into a linen lined bread basket, standing close enough that the length of their bodies touched. Lisa didn’t miss the love that passed between them as Janelle ran a hand up Mark’s arm to his shoulder. Mark leaned toward his wife, clearly intending to kiss her in the close confines of the kitchen.
Envy tightened Lisa’s chest and without meaning to, she glanced at Derek. A second later, his gaze shifted from the kissing couple and met hers. The heat in his eyes told her he recalled those moments in the gym, too. She started to wet her dry lips, then realized he’d shifted his attention to her mouth.
Lisa turned away, but he stepped close a moment later. Her heart rate shot up when his chest brushed her back. He reached around her to offer a glass of wine.
“Thanks.” She took a fortifying sip, then a gulp when Derek’s spicy scent wafted past her nose. Thankfully, Janelle carried the breadbasket to the table and they all sat to eat.
To her surprise, Lisa relaxed within minutes and the conversation flowed as readily as the laughter and the wine. She may have never taken the time to get to know Janelle in high school, but she appreciated the opportunity now. And she saw how true her wedding toast was—the petite redhead definitely made her brother happy.
Better yet—or maybe worse—she thoroughly enjoyed Derek’s company, despite the fact that his knee firmly planted against hers kept her physically aware of him every second. His laid-back style made it easy to drop her earlier reserve and joke with him. It didn’t take much to understand why both her brothers got along with him so well.
The wine loosened her tongue enough that when Mark leaned back in his chair and insisted she finally relay the story of why she’d almost missed the wedding, she led off with how she’d had to quit her job to come home in the first place.
Just past the part about the Illinois state trooper who’d pulled her over on I-294 north of Chicago, Derek abruptly rose to his feet and began to clear everyone’s empty plates. Duke and Daisy jumped up, tails wagging. Janelle rose, but Derek motioned her down.
“I got ‘em. Sorry, Lisa, continue.”
Was there an edge to his tone, or was it just her imagination? Janelle and Mark didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, so she moved on to the increasing snow, the icy roads, and how she’d lost control and slid into the ditch a few miles shy of the church.
By now, Derek leaned against the island counter, arms crossed over his chest.
“It’s amazing you made it at all,” Janelle said.
“What’d you do, break a mirror?” Mark teased.
Lisa finished off her third glass of wine and debated another. “If I did, with the way my luck has been, I’ve got another four bad years to deal with. Thanks for alerting me to that uplifting prospect.” She filled her glass.
“If it makes you feel any better, we’re all happy you’re home,” Janelle told her.
“I know. And I’m glad to be home, even if I felt like a complete failure on my way here.” God, did she just say that out loud? She spun the wine glass back and forth with her thumb and forefinger on the stem.
Janelle reached forward to cover Lisa’s hand with her own. “You’re not a failure. Things will work out—and maybe that interview today didn’t go as bad as you think.”
“Oh, no, it did. I swear, sometimes it seems like fate is conspiring against me, like maybe I have to pay for my early success,” she said, attempting to turn it all into a joke before serious, melancholy emotions took hold.
“There was a time you led a charmed life,” Mark agreed with a grin.
“I worked hard for it.” Lisa forced a laugh at herself. “Lot of good it did me. Now, it doesn’t seem to matter what I do, I can’t get ahead.”
A loud snort from Derek drew their attention. “Please tell me that’s the wine talking.”
Lisa frowned at the note of disdain in his voice and forgot her attempt at levity. “You don’t believe in karma?”
“I believe in bullshit.”
Lisa stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t know what’s worse—you spouting this load of crap, or the fact that you expect us to believe it and join in your little pity party.”
Chapter Seven
“Derek.”
Janelle’s sharp admonishment jerked his attention away from Lisa’s shocked expression.
“What?” His fingers clenched on the edge of the counter and he fought the urge to back off. “Seriously, why should we feel sorry for her? She’s beautiful, she’s smart—she could do anything she wants. Obviously, we all remember high school. If you ask me, she’s got no one to blame but herself.”
Mark shifted in his chair to face Derek. “Where the hell is this coming from?”
From his realization that she had changed over the past nine years. And so had he. There was a time he wouldn’t have had the guts to challenge her on something so personal, but damn it, she sounded like she just accepted whatever life threw her way these days. Where the hell had her fight gone?
Mark held up a hand. “On second thought, maybe you’d better shut up since you don’t even really know my sister.”
“She may be your sister, but after four years of her beating me at everything that counted, believe me, I know her better than you. The only time I’ve seen her fight since she came back is when she tried to beat me at basketball yesterday.”
Lisa’s hand smacked the table. Everyone jumped, including the dogs. “Stop talking like I’m not here.”
Derek narrowed his gaze on her. “Fine. Tell me this then, what the hell happened to you?”
But he already k
new. She’d become so accustomed to the thrill of victory that she didn’t know how to handle the reality of losing. After three years, it looked like she was still trying to figure it out. He saw the truth of the fact in her eyes before she lifted her glass and stared into the burgundy depths.
“I told you—”
“Yeah, you told me about that scumbag on the campaign—but the Lisa Riley I knew wouldn’t have let that beat her.”
“What are you talking about?” Mark shifted his gaze between Derek and Lisa.
“Nothing.” Lisa replaced her glass and pushed up from the table, glaring at Derek. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t fight Spencer because it didn’t take me long to realize I was glad to be out of politics.” She shifted her gaze to Janelle and Mark. “Thanks for dinner, but I’m going home now.”
Mark protested when she strode from the room, but Janelle laid a hand on his arm.
Derek swallowed hard. Damn. He’d blown it. He shouldn’t have pushed so hard. He should’ve talked to her in private. Damn!
“Derek, I don’t think she should drive herself home,” Janelle murmured.
Derek hesitated, remembered her pouring that last glass of wine, then pushed away from the counter. Mark rose to his feet and barred the way. “I think you’ve done enough.”
“This is between—”
The front door slammed. Janelle stood up between them, facing Mark. “Honey, she’s driving Derek’s truck anyway, let him take her home and save me a trip in the snow.”
Mark frowned. “Why the hell is she driving his truck?”
“Long story—I’ll tell you later.”
Derek hurried past, thankful his tiny cousin was able to handle the man who could probably pound him into the ground. He and Mark may be close in height and build, and they’d developed a friendship over the past year, but at a time like this, Mark’s military background was enough to intimidate anyone.
Derek snagged his jacket but didn’t waste time putting it on for fear Lisa would beat him out of the lot. The truck’s engine turned over as he leapt from the porch. Three strides later, he yanked open the driver’s side door. Lisa jerked back against the seat.
“Geez! You scared the heck out of me.” Her left hand quickly rose to swipe across her cheek.
Shit. She’d been crying. “Move over.”
“No.”
“Lisa, I’m driving, end of discussion.”
She grabbed her jacket and purse and scooted across to the other side. Derek climbed in, and she opened the passenger door.
“Whoa—where’re you going?”
“Nowhere with you.”
Derek leaned back against the seat in defeat. It wasn’t like he could make her stay and listen to his apology. Unless… “That works for me. I get my truck back, and your brother gets a chance to have all his questions answered.”
She paused, half out the door. Purely on reflex, Derek switched on the wipers to clear the new inch of fallen snow off his windshield. He caught a flicker of movement in the living room window at the same time a spray of snow from the wipers showered Lisa.
Her gasp made him cringe. “Sorry.”
She shook her hair back, brushed off, and pulled herself back inside the truck before slamming the door. Staring straight ahead, hugging her jacket to her stomach, she said, “Drive. And I don’t want to hear one gol-damn word from you.”
Derek put the truck in gear and laid his hand along the back of the seat, twisting to watch that he didn’t hit anything as he turned around. His fingers itched to touch her hair, to feel its soft silkiness. Facing forward again, he resolutely gripped the steering wheel with both hands. At the end of the long driveway, he braked. “Seatbelt.”
Lisa yanked the belt across her front and clicked the lock home. Derek eased onto the unplowed road before reaching to turn on the radio. Anything to fill the silence.
Questions raced through his mind while he navigated the slippery roads with Phil Vassar singing in the background. Would she give him a chance to talk before she went inside her parent’s house, or would she make him wait until she cooled off? And how long would that take? Tomorrow? The next day? A week?
Cold dread filled him at the thought that he may have ruined everything.
About a block before the bakery, a Jingle Bells ringtone sounded from Lisa’s purse. She reached to turn down the radio and answered the phone. “Dad—what’s up?” Her pause ended with a frustrated growl. “I can’t believe he called you already…no…no…Dad, tell Mom I’m fine—nothing happened!”
Though his attention was focused on the slick road again, Derek still felt her glare.
“I didn’t tell anyone because I handled it, and I wanted to avoid this exact conversation…no—there’s nothing to discuss… listen, Dad, I gotta go. The roads are bad here in town and they’ll be even worse out by the house, so I’m going stay at Derek’s tonight…”
Derek’s brows rose. Hmm. He listened to her navigate a new set of objections before snapping her phone shut. Nearing his street, he slowed the truck and flicked on the right turn signal.
“I didn’t lie, so don’t you dare say one word,” she warned.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“All of this is your fault anyway.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said with complete sincerity.
“If you’d have kept your big mouth shut—”
“You wouldn’t be forced to spend the night with me to avoid talking to your family.”
“Oh, shut up,” she huffed. “You don’t know everything.”
He did know she was running again. But somehow he’d managed to become the lesser of two evils. No way in hell he’d jeopardize a golden opportunity. He pulled into his driveway and pressed the garage door remote on his visor to park inside, right next to her vehicle.
“Are you done with my car yet?” Annoyance still coated her words.
“I have to put the muffler on yet.”
“But it starts?”
“Yes.” He got out of the truck and opened the house for her. Instead of following her into the kitchen, he closed the door, pulled on his jacket and a pair of gloves, and grabbed a shovel off the rack by the door. Lisa Riley in his house presented a whole slew of temptations he was better off avoiding for a little while. Her enticing perfume in the truck cab had been hard enough to ignore, even with the help of her anger.
The first scrape of aluminum against concrete abraded his eardrums, but the swing of his arms soothed his tense body. Physical activity always helped clear his head. Well, almost always. Their basketball game had really thrown him off.
A dozen or so shovelfuls later, he heard the door open and close behind him. Tension recoiled in his muscles. A quick glance sideways confirmed Lisa had come back outside. She took his second shovel off the garage wall. He stopped and rested a forearm over his hand on the shovel grip while she began clearing the opposite side of his driveway.
She’d traded her fashionable leather boots for an old pair of his snow boots, one of his scarves warmed her neck, and his black knit hat blended with her dark curls. His gaze dropped to the snug fit of her jeans when she bent over for another scoop of snow.
“I can go back inside if you’re going to just stand and watch,” she said without turning around.
Derek began to shovel again. “I really am sorry about earlier.”
“Forget it. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Apparently, it is.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
Growing suspicion led him to her side. “You know, Lisa, something just isn’t right here. If nothing happened, why are you so hell bent on keeping the incident a secret?”
The possibility that the man had succeeded in forcing himself on her made Derek want to explode. He dropped his shovel and grasped both her arms, gentle but firm. Her shovel also clattered to the cement as he forced her to meet his gaze through the falling snow.
“Did he
hurt you?”
Surprise lit her eyes, then her lashes lowered, and she stared at his chest. “Not like you think—I swear to God. Yeah, he tried, and it was degrading and humiliating, but not so bad after I decked him.” She sighed. “No, the real problem is, he reminded me of myself.”
Derek pulled back in disbelief at her ashamed statement. “What?”
“We’d talked one time, on the bus between campaign stops. I was flattered he’d taken an interest in my career choices…in me. We had a lot in common—successful through high school and college, he worked his way up the political ladder the same way I was. But then, after what happened, I saw my entire life in a whole new light and I didn’t like it, or myself.”
She took a deep breath but still wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I hated the fact that I always had to best everyone at everything. I told you it was my word against his, but the real truth is I never fought for another campaign job because I didn’t want to be anything like him. I wanted out.”
“And that’s why you haven’t stayed with a job since then, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “It isn’t in me to do a bad job…and inevitably, I’d get promoted. I realize now, fear kept me from going down that road again, so I’d quit and start over somewhere else. Or get myself fired.”
Derek wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her self-destructive actions. Instead, he drew her into his arms and held her against his chest. “Damn, Lisa, that’s really screwed up, you know that?”
His coat only partially muffled her choked laugh. “I do now.”
When she turned her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder, a fierce surge of protectiveness tightened his hold. “Listen, you asked if I believed in karma—and, yeah, I think people get what’s coming to them. I believe what goes around comes around, and that jackass will get his eventually, but you’ve got to know you’re nothing like him.”
“How do you know, you’ve never even met him.”
He held her at arm’s length. “I’ve seen him on TV. Never liked him, and now I know why.”
She smiled briefly. That was something. Their gazes locked. The overwhelming desire to kiss her prompted him to step back and pick up the shovels once more. Earlier in the evening he would’ve had no problem continuing the game she’d started at the gym, but after the last half hour, he didn’t want to push her. Any offensive move in the physical direction tonight rested in her court.
Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3) Page 7
