A Little Bit of Holiday Magic

by Melissa McClone

  Bill sat in the chair opposite her. He ruffled Liam’s hair. “Enjoying dinner, little dude?”

  “Yummy.” Liam handed him a French fry. “Eat.”

  Bill did, his watchful gaze on Grace.

  She scooted back in her chair, not liking his predatory stare, as if he wanted a taste of her rather than the French fry.

  She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked down, critiquing her clothes. Not that she had much beside jeans, track pants and T-shirts to wear. At least what she wore was clean.

  Because the way Bill’s gaze had locked in on her made her feel desirable. For the first time in years she felt like a whole woman, not the broken widow of a heroic Ranger. The attention gave her a needed boost of confidence in the female department.

  “Get a lot of skiing in?” Thad asked.

  “One of the best days up there in a while.” Bill looked from Grace to Thad. “Showing Grace and Liam the hot spots in town tonight?”

  Thad’s smile hardened. “It was either that or have them eat dinner alone at your house.”

  Veins twitched. Lips thinned. Eyes narrowed.

  Weird. She thought they were friends. “Thad drove us to his garage so I could speak with the claims adjustor.”

  “What’s the verdict on the truck?” Bill broke from his stare-down to be civil.

  The decisions Grace would have to make soon hit with sudden force, like the long, fast-moving freight trains they’d seen driving across the plain states.

  Liam handed him another French fry. “The truck is broken, isn’t it, Mommy?”

  “Yes, it’s very broken.” She glanced at her plate, and her half-eaten order of halibut and chips. Her appetite had disappeared. “Thad’s been explaining my options.”

  Bill smirked at the mechanic. “Nice of you to go to so much trouble.”

  “Just trying to help Grace and Liam.” Thad’s square jaw jutted forward. “Like you giving them a place to stay.”

  “That’s what we do in Hood Hamlet.”

  “Exactly.”

  The undercurrent at the table bothered Grace. Both men were great. Thad was sweet, and Bill made her tummy tingle. Without the other, each guy had been pleasant and kind. Together, not so much. She didn’t know their history, but recognized the territorial posturing. She’d seen it in Columbus.

  Men.

  As if one man’s hospitality to two strangers was an affront to the other. She didn’t get it. Them.

  Liam seemed oblivious to what was going on. He sucked on the straw in his chocolate milk, his small hand touching Bill’s larger one.

  “So how’s Muffy?” A French fry dangled from Bill’s fingers. A mischievous smile lit up his face. “I heard the two of you have been dating.”

  Grace rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her pale ale.

  Thad cleared his throat. “We’ve gone out a few times. Nothing serious. You went out with her, too.”

  “Once or twice. I’m not dating anyone now.”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s December.” Thad emphasized the month. “Some guys would rather let women fend for themselves at the holidays than cough up money to buy them a present. You’ve always been a fan of leaving women waiting.”

  Oh, brother. This could take all night. Grace shoved aside her plate, propped an elbow on the table and leaned her head against her hand, forgotten.

  The two men stared at each other, as if sizing up a rival or trying to make him back down.

  Forget cutting the tension with a knife. They would need an ax or a chainsaw.

  The din of the customers around them rose. Their silence increased the pressure at the table.

  Time to intervene. She didn’t think logic would help, but needed to say something. “A car might be more practical for me than a truck.”

  Both men startled, then nodded.

  Good. She had their attention. “Though I’m attached to the old pickup and I need a way to get our things to Astoria.”

  “I have a truck,” Thad said.

  “So do I.” Bill put more ketchup on Liam’s plate. “I’m happy to drive your things to the coast.”

  “Same here,” Thad said. “I have an aunt in Long Beach. That’s across the Columbia River and a little north. I can stay with her.”

  Bill grimaced. “You can make the drive there and back in a day.”

  “Unless Grace needs help unpacking.”

  “Grace has moved a lot. She knows how to unpack.”

  Thad shrugged, undaunted. “She still might want help.”

  Bill scooted forward. “I’m happy to help, too.”

  She made a T with her hands. “Time out, guys. I was just making conversation. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

  The two men kept glancing at each other, as if checking the other’s position.

  Liam climbed out of his seat and onto Bill’s lap.

  Thad’s nostrils flared.

  Grace shot forward with a thrill.

  Okay, she was twenty-six, not sixteen, but she’d never had two guys act this way over her. It was...nice. Immature and silly, but flattering.

  “Hey.” A pretty woman with braided brown hair and warm brown eyes stood next to their table, with a tall, handsome man behind her. “Enjoying yourselves?”

  Thad pressed his lips together.

  Bill took a French fry off Liam’s plate.

  Someone needed to be polite. Grace smiled. “The food is delicious. The beer, too.”

  “I’m Leanne Thomas. This is Christian Welton.” The woman extended her arm. “You must be Grace. Paulson—I mean Bill—mentioned you.”

  She shook the woman’s hand. Bill had called Leanne his best friend. “I’m Grace Wilcox. This is my son, Liam.”

  Liam burrowed his head between Bill’s neck and shoulder.

  “Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I wanted to tell Bill our table’s ready. Looks like I was just in time—” Leanne motioned to Bill and Thad “—otherwise these two might have had a territorial pissing match right here in the dining room. Jake wouldn’t have liked that.”

  Bill and Thad united to glare at Leanne.

  Grace swallowed her laugh and eyed the woman with respect.

  “Jake Porter owns the brewpub,” Christian said to Grace.

  Liam reached across Bill and grabbed a French fry.

  “We wouldn’t want to upset the owner,” Grace said. “Thanks for diffusing the, um, situation.”

  Christian winked. “We’re firefighters. That’s what we do.”

  The iceberg-size diamond engagement ring on Leanne’s finger sparkled. Grace remembered what Bill had said. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  “Thank you.” Eyes twinkling and face beaming, Leanne held her fiancée’s hand. “We’re getting married on Saturday.”

  She looked at Christian with such pure love that Grace’s heart ached. She missed having that mutual adoration with someone. The squabbling between Bill and Thad might amuse her, but was no substitute. Not even close. “Best wishes for a happy life together.”

  The server brought the check.

  Bill reached out his hand. “I’ll take it.”

  “No, I will.” Thad tried to snatch the bill. “You didn’t eat.”

  Bill kept his arm extended. “My treat for you helping Grace.”

  “I got it, dude. I invited her to dinner,” Thad countered.

  They fought like boys seeing who got to shoot the new Nerf gun first. A town the size of Hood Hamlet probably didn’t have many single women to choose from. Grace must be the new toy the guys wanted to play with. She sighed, then looked at Leanne. “Are they normally like this?”

  “No. Not these two.” A puzzled expression crossed Leanne’s face. She stared at Bill
with Liam on his lap. “This behavior is highly unusual.”

  Grace was ready to go back to Bill’s place. She took the black portfolio from the server. “Dinner is my treat.”

  Both men protested.

  “Sorry, boys.” Grace scanned the bill for the total and calculated the tip. She’d always been good with numbers. Now she had a degree in accounting. “You snooze, you lose.”

  Leanne laughed. “You’re going to fit in well around here.”

  “Thanks, but I won’t be here long.” Grace removed two twenties and a ten from her wallet, then slid the money inside the folder. “Liam and I will be on our way to Astoria soon.”

  “Too bad.” Leanne sounded genuinely disappointed. “But Astoria isn’t that far away.”

  “Less than three hours,” Bill said.

  “One hundred and fifty miles at the most,” Thad said at the same time.

  “As I said, not far.” Leanne grinned like a bride on a shopping spree in Tiffany’s. “Come on, Bill. Time for dinner.”

  Leanne and Christian walked to an empty table on the far side of the dining area. Bill remained seated.

  “Go on,” Grace urged him. “We’re finished.”

  Bill didn’t move. “You need a ride home.”

  “I’m driving them back to the house,” Thad said.

  “I will.”

  “Liam’s car seat is in my truck.”

  “I know how to install a car seat,” Bill said. “The station holds clinics.”

  Grace put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, okay? Liam’s tired. You haven’t eaten. We’re going home with Thad.”

  “No, you’re not,” Bill said.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Thad shook his head. “I have to drive Grace home so we can put together a counteroffer for the claims adjustor.”

  “Counteroffer?” Bill asked.

  “The claims adjustor wants to total the truck, but gave Grace a lowball offer,” Thad explained. “I’m going to help her research what the truck is worth.”

  “Then get going. I take it you know what will sway the adjustor.”

  Thad nodded.

  Bill stood, then put Liam back in his seat. “Tomorrow, I’ll take Grace to look at a replacement.”

  Thad rose. “I’ll put together a list of reliable, safe vehicles. But don’t buy anything without me.”

  “I’m right here, guys,” Grace said to no one in particular.

  “Paulson,” Leanne shouted. “Get your sorry ass over here. I’m hungry.”

  His gaze locked on Grace. “I’m starving.”

  Her pulse skittered.

  “Dinner won’t take long.” Bill’s gaze raked over her as if she would be dessert. “I’ll be home soon.”

  Liam clapped.

  Grace gulped.

  Bill’s words sounded like a warning.

  Yet anticipation zipped from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes. Awareness of the man thrummed through her veins.

  If Grace knew what was good for her, she would call it a night before he arrived home.

  Or maybe she would put Liam to bed and take her chances.

  Dessert might be exactly what she needed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TURNING HIS TRUCK onto the driveway, Bill hit the garage door opener. No sign of Thad or his pickup.

  Good. Bill didn’t want to get into a fight.

  The garage door lifted.

  His headlights lit up the boxes and plastic bins from Grace’s pickup. He tightened his grip on the leather-covered steering wheel.

  He wasn’t proud of his behavior at the brewpub, but seeing Grace with Thad had turned him into a caveman. He had wanted to stomp on any guy who eyed her as O’Ryan did, or took her to dinner, like Thad. Bill had never felt that way about anyone.

  Not even Cocoa Marsh, the only woman he’d ever thought about dating more than a few times.

  Bill drove into the garage.

  He’d been bummed about Cocoa hooking up with her ex-flame, gold medal snowboarder Rex Billings. Until Bill had met a cute snow bunny a week later. What was that girl’s name? She’d been blonde and hot enough to make him forget why he’d been attracted to Cocoa in the first place.

  He turned off the ignition and removed the keys.

  Over dinner, Leanne had called him on his behavior, rather his “childish, territorial chest-puffing.” She could be such a hardnose, but he loved her like a sister. Still, he wasn’t about to open up to her.

  Not after the abuse he’d received at the station over Cocoa, Leanne’s former roommate. Discussing Grace was off-limits with everyone.

  He’d backtracked during dinner. Shot from the hip, hoping something he said about boys being boys appeased her. Lied his butt off.

  What else could he do?

  Admit he thought Grace was hot? That he liked spending time with her and her kid? That he wanted them to stay in Hood Hamlet as long as possible?

  Nope. Bill couldn’t admit any of those things.

  Because they weren’t true. Not really.

  He exited the truck.

  Bill was just a little lonely due to no dating in December. He didn’t want a girlfriend. He didn’t want a relationship. He sure as hell didn’t want a ready-made family.

  Monogamy and commitment were not in his DNA. He wasn’t going to fail like his dad by saying “I do,” when the only words out of his mouth should be “I can’t.”

  He opened the door to the laundry room.

  Grace was attractive. But she didn’t seem like a fling kind of woman. More like an on-bended-knee-proposal kind. A forever kind.

  That was why his mom worried he’d break Grace’s heart. Leanne had warned him off over dinner. Even Christian had pointed out Grace had to be stressed, and needed friends with no agenda.

  No problem.

  Bill would keep his distance. Be her friend, her bud, her pal. He would treat her like Thomas. Okay, maybe he’d be nicer than that.

  Inside the house, he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the dryer.

  He accepted he wasn’t the right guy for Grace, but knew Thad Humphreys wasn’t, either.

  Sure, Thad was an upright, responsible, respectable citizen. No one in Hood Hamlet would disagree.

  Bill walked through the dining area to the living room.

  The mechanic spent every New Year’s Eve giving free rides to drunk drivers and towing their cars home. He’d dropped out of college at age nineteen to take over his family’s garage and support his mother and sisters, after his father had a massive coronary and died at the age of forty-two. Thad had made sure Hannah Bishop’s cars ran perfectly, maintaining them for free after Nick died and before she’d married Garrett Willingham.

  A good man.

  But not the one for Grace, and by default, Liam, since the two were a package deal.

  Bill’s gut told him Thad was wrong for her. Instincts had kept Bill alive and out of trouble all his life. He trusted his instinct to be right now.

  He needed to make sure Grace left town with a reliable vehicle and her heart in one piece. Totally possible. Totally his plan.

  Giggles sounded from down the hall.

  Liam.

  Water ran.

  The bathtub.

  The door to the hall bathroom was closed, but he heard voices, and water splashed.

  Taking a shower sounded good. He needed to wash away the smells of the mountain and sweat. A steady stream of icy water would clear his head and put him in the right frame of mind to see Grace.

  Ten minutes later, Bill dried off, feeling clean and smelling better. He’d calmed down about Thad, too. Grace was moving to Astoria to make a fresh start. Getting involved with Thad or anyone in
Hood Hamlet would be a complication, something she didn’t seem to like. Bill didn’t like them, either.

  He slid into a pair of flannel sleep pants, then reached for a shirt.

  The phone rang.

  The receiver wasn’t in the charger on the nightstand. He tossed the shirt on the bed, jogged out to the living room and answered the phone. “Hello.”

  “I hope you’re not upset with me.”

  His mother sounded contrite. She should be.

  “Not upset.” He cradled the phone against his shoulder as he tied the drawstrings at his waistband. “But you shouldn’t go off half-cocked about things and people you know nothing about.”

  “Perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part.”

  Yeah, right. She’d been upset, not hopeful. But the last thing he needed was her grandma clock to start ticking. “Just so you know... Not. Going. To. Happen.”

  “Going skiing tomorrow?”

  He was grateful she’d changed the subject. “After I take Grace to look at cars.”

  “Liam will hate car shopping,” his mother said.

  “We’ll bring toys.”

  Silence filled the line.

  “I’ll come over and watch him,” his mother offered. “That way Grace can concentrate on looking at cars and not worry about Liam.”

  “I’ll ask her.”

  “I’ll be ready in case she says yes and you want to get an early start.”

  His mother sounded so enthusiastic about babysitting. That wasn’t like her. She volunteered in the nursery at church on Sundays, giving her something to do besides hovering over him. “It’s my day off. No early starts unless we’re talking Alpine climbing,” he answered.

  “Let me know what time.” His mother made her familiar smacking-kiss noise. “Sweet dreams.”

  He said good-night and disconnected from the call.

  A door shut.

  Bill turned and saw Grace standing with an odd expression on her face. “Where’s Liam?”

  “Asleep. Baths do that to him sometimes.” She motioned to the phone in his hand. “Need to make a call?”

  “I was talking with my mom. She offered to watch Liam tomorrow while we look at cars.”

  “You don’t have to take me out.”