A Home for Christmas

by Deborah Grace Staley

  Rage roiled up inside Blake. He crushed Cory's designer jacket in his fist and shoved him up against the brick wall behind him. He'd like the satisfaction of smashing his fist into his perfect nose.

  Self-talk. Breathe.

  Not working.

  “You make me sick. You've got a pregnant wife at home and you're standing here on the street ogling women.”

  Cory pushed against Blake's chest, and he released him. “I'm married, not dead. And I don't know if you've noticed or not, but that's not just any woman. I'd wager I wasn't the only man in town today thinking the same thing. Young, old, married, single. When a woman like that walks by, men notice.”

  Blake shot a hand through his hair.

  “Oh, give it up, Blake. You could never be with a woman like that. You're not man enough. She'd never be satisfied with someone like you.” He snorted. “You were more of a man before you let Mom and Dad send you away. Now, you're just a pathetic pansy.”

  Self-talk. Breathe. Walk away.

  “That's it. Scurry off to that big empty house of yours and lock yourself in it. Wouldn't want that nasty temper to get the better of you.”

  Blake turned and took two steps back toward his brother, but stopped. “You should be glad that I learned some restraint, Cory, or you'd be needing more than the services this town's doctor could offer.”

  “Oh,” he held out a steady hand, “I'm so scared.”

  “What's goin' on out here, boys?” Dixie stepped between them, giving both an even look.

  Cory did what he always did. Turned on the charm. He put an arm around Dixie and kissed her cheek. “Nothing, Sis. Man, you get prettier by the minute. I can't understand why some good lookin' guy hasn't snapped you up.”

  Dixie actually blushed and swatted at his chest. “You're a silver-tongued devil, Cory Ferguson.”

  Cory looked over at Blake and winked. Blake clinched his fist and took a step forward.

  Dixie stopped him with a hand at as chest and a frown. “What's got your dander up, Blake?”

  “Yeah, Blake,” Cory chimed in. “What's up?”

  He pointed a finger at him and leaned across his sister. “If you don't get out of here right now, I swear I'm going to plaster you to that brick wall.”

  “Blake!” Dixie protested.

  “It's all good, Sis. You know it's just empty threats. He doesn't have it in him any more.”

  Blake took another step forward and Dixie put her back into his chest. “Maybe you better get on home, Cory. I don't think he's jokin'.”

  “Yeah. Gotta get back to the puking wife. Joy.” He moved to step around them, but turned back and said, “Hey, maybe that new lady doctor could give her something for it. Women know about these things.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe I'll ask her over.”

  Blake nearly mowed his sister down, then. He had to give her credit. She blocked him like a pro linebacker.

  “Cory Ferguson. You get yourself home right now,” she snapped.

  Cory just laughed and strolled down the sidewalk toward home while Dixie did her best to keep Blake from following. When Cory had turned the corner and was out of sight, Blake slumped against the wall.

  “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

  He pulled in several long, deep breaths, desperately trying to regain control. When he was able, he said, “That slime bag was drooling—”

  “Watch it, now. That is our brother you're referring to.”

  “I can't help that.”

  “Help what?”

  “That he's my brother.”

  “Blake Ferguson—”

  He held up a hand. “Don't start in on me, Dix. I'm in no mood.”

  “I can see that. What's got you so riled?”

  “Nothin',” he lied. “I gotta get goin'.” He turned and started toward home.

  “Okay. I'll stop by later and check on you.”

  He gave a wave, but didn't look back. Why had he allowed himself to lose control like that? His brother had just been goading him, and he'd let him. He hadn't lost control like this in years. Now it had happened twice in two days. What the hell was the matter with him? He knew he couldn't give into anger that way. Not with a temper like his. He wouldn't allow his worthless brother to erase what he'd worked years to achieve, not now. He had wallpaper to hang. And a possible relationship to consider.

  But first, maybe he'd make a detour to his workshop. Yeah. Hammering out his frustrations on that china cabinet Pastor Strong had ordered for his wife's Christmas present was just what he needed.

  Chapter 7

  Janice woke early. After years of getting up in the pre-dawn hours to complete rounds before going into the office, sleeping-in apparently would take some time. Earlier, she'd heard her uncle moving about. He must have decided to let her rest, because she also heard a door open and close downstairs, then a car started and moved away from the house.

  Janice gave up and headed for the shower. Downstairs in the kitchen, she smiled when she saw that her uncle had left the coffeepot on with a plate of muffins beside it. A note read, Back about one. Make yourself at home.

  Enticed by the sun, she stepped out onto the sun porch. Windows all the way around let in the warmth while keeping out the cold. Still, she wrapped up in a blanket she found on the back of a chair and sank into a wicker chaise lounge filled with soft, overstuffed cushions.

  Sipping her coffee, she enjoyed the view of a frost-covered lawn until some sound at the door interrupted the peacefulness of the moment.

  She frowned. There it was again. Faint, but definitely a distressed sound. She hurried to the door. The blast of cold took her breath, then frosted it as she blew it out. She looked down along the side of the house. Nothing. Then she heard it again, this time clearer. A pitiful meow. She looked down into the upturned face of the tiniest kitten she'd ever seen. Huge blue eyes dominated the tiny face. It looked like a little ball of soft, gray fuzz.

  “Well, hello.” She bent and held out her hand to let the kitten get her scent. The cat didn't move. It shook as if it were freezing. It didn't protest when she scooped it into her hand. “Come inside where it's warm, little one.”

  She stroked its tiny back. The kitty meowed its pleasure. Janice closed the door and walked into the warmth of the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Hmm? I bet you are. Where's your mommy?”

  The little kitten just stared up at her with huge ice blue eyes. Janice had never had a kitten, or a pet of any kind for that matter. For one thing, she'd never been home. For another thing, her mother would never have allowed a pet in her pristine house. She couldn't even stand to have Janice around.

  Setting the kitten on the counter, she searched the cabinets, moving several cans around until she found what she was looking for. “Here we go. Tuna. Yum.” She popped the can open and set it in front of the kitten. It sniffed the fish, then looked up at Janice as if to say, What am I supposed to do with this?

  Janice frowned. Maybe she was too young to eat solid food. “Would you like a little milk, instead?” She pulled a glass bottle from the refrigerator and poured a bit into a saucer. Fifteen seconds in the microwave warmed it to tepid. Janice tested it and licked her finger. Perfect.

  “Here you go. Eat up.”

  The cat tasted the milk experimentally with the tip of its pink tongue. Satisfied, it went after the treat with gusto. Janice laughed as it buried its face in the saucer. Even put its front paws in it. When the kitten had had its fill, it looked up at Janice and meowed its thanks. Milk dripped from its whiskers and chin. Janice picked up the kitten and dried it off with a kitchen towel. “There now. That's better.” After a quick check, she found it was a female.

  The two sat at the kitchen table. While Janice stroked her fur, the kitty curled up in the crook of her arm and fell asleep. “Where did you come from?” She wondered if her mother were nearby? If she'd just wandered off and couldn't find her way back? And what if she didn't have a home? What if she was a stray?

  What would he
r uncle think? She couldn't saddle him with a kitten after she went back to the city. Taking it with her wasn't an option. Her condo association didn't allow pets.

  Her thoughts wandered to Blake. He'd said he was in desperate need of a cat. It was the perfect solution. Maybe he could look after her until they found her home. If she didn't have one, maybe he could keep her.

  That was it. She'd take the cat to Blake and get her settled in before she got attached to Janice.

  No time like the present. Janice bundled into her hat and coat, settled the kitten in her pocket, then wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled on gloves. Outside, she headed down the walk, and turned onto the brick sidewalk toward Blake's house.

  “What did I do to rate this?”

  Blake greeted his sister at the back door just as he was zipping his jeans and slipping his arms into a plaid shirt. Seeing who it was, he didn't bother buttoning it.

  “I come bearing hot muffins. You'd better have coffee.”

  “You're in luck. It just finished brewing.”

  Dixie came inside and unbuttoned her coat. Blake helped her out of it and draped it over a kitchen chair.

  “I'm surprised you're here,” she said. “I saw your car in the drive as I passed by on my way to Susan's. I promised to sit with her while the rest of the family goes to church, so I can't stay long.”

  “I overslept.”

  “You?” She opened the bag and the aroma of blueberries filled the room. “I wasn't aware you knew how.”

  He pushed his wet hair off his forehead. “Guess there's a first time for everything.”

  “Don't suppose it'd have anything to do with a certain blonde sleeping a block away warm and snug in her uncle's house?”

  He gave Dixie what he hoped was a look that clearly stated he didn't want to discuss Janice Thornton. Fact was, he'd been up most of the night hanging wallpaper and trying to decide what his next move with her would be. If there would be one.

  “I just got a passing glance at her last week, but seein' her standin' there with you in the diner yesterday, I gotta tell you, I think she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

  The statement reminded him of the exchange with Cory yesterday. The anger that had been simmering since then threatened to rise to the surface.

  “Of course, it shouldn't surprise me. I heard her mother was a real looker, too.”

  Blake gave her a look again when he set a plate in front of her.

  Dixie held up her hand. “Just coffee for me. I gotta get movin'. Can't keep the mayor waitin'. You know how he can be. But I got a piece of advice for you before I go.” She pinched a bite out of his muffin and popped it into her mouth.

  “What if I said I don't need any advice?”

  “You're gettin' it anyway. If you're really interested in this woman, don't beat around the bush about it. Go after her. Women like that don't stay on the shelf long.” Dixie brushed the crumbs off her hands and stood. “Now don't give me that look. I know you. You were probably up half the night plannin' your next move, and that's why you look like six miles of bad road.”

  He saluted her with his cup. “Thanks, Sis.” He took a long draw of the strong liquid and closed his eyes while the caffeine worked its magic.

  She shrugged into her coat. “Word is she's only going to be here until Christmas, then she's jettin' back to the city. You got no time to waste, and you sure don't want to let someone else around here get the jump on you.”

  “Dixie . . . ” He couldn't think of anything worse than having his baby sister telling him what he needed to do to snag a woman. He definitely didn't want to hear that he might have competition.

  “Okay, okay. I'm outta here. Think about what I said.”

  Her voice trailed off as she hurried down the hallway to the front of the house. “Well, good mornin', Doc. I was just on my way out. Come on in. Blake's back in the kitchen.”

  Blake stood and made it to the doorway of the kitchen in time to see Dixie leave and Janice come in.

  “Bye,” Janice said to a banging door.

  Blake leaned against the doorframe and looked his fill. She was all bundled up in an off-white coat, her cheeks pink from the cold. Dear Lord, one look at her and every doubt or reservation he had fled.

  Janice pulled her hat off. “Hi.” She looked back over her shoulder at the door. “Was that a whirlwind or your sister that just blew through here?”

  “That's Dixie. She's hard to pin down for more than five minutes.”

  Janice removed her gloves and swiveled back to face him. “I hope you don't mind me dropping by un—um—unannounced . . . ” Her words trailed into nothing.

  “Of course not.”

  She took a breath and looked away, biting her upper lip. “I'm sorry. You must have just been getting dressed.”

  He glanced down at his shirt hanging open. “Oh, sorry.” He secured the two middle buttons and buttoned his jeans. “I'd just gotten out of the shower when Dixie showed up.” She still stood near the door, looking unsure of what to do or where to look.

  “Join me for a cup of coffee?”

  Watching her walk toward him was pure pleasure. Even bundled up so that only her face showed, she was stunning. When she stood before him, he couldn't help himself, he reached out to unwrap her long green scarf. “Are you in there?”

  She smiled up at him then and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean down and kiss her cheek. “Man. You're like a human ice cube.” He rubbed her arms. “Come in the kitchen and let me get you a cup of coffee.”

  “Thanks.”

  She preceded him into the kitchen and went directly to the coffeemaker. “It must be ten degrees out there.”

  Blake peered at the thermometer outside his kitchen window. “Fifteen.”

  Her laugh seemed a little nervous. “Is there really a difference between fifteen and ten? If you ask me, anything under twenty is just cold. Really cold.”

  Blake poured a large mug of coffee. “Spoken like a true southern girl.”

  “Considering the fact that I grew up in the Northeast, I have pretty thin skin. I admit it.”

  “You take it straight?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He handed her the steaming mug and she held it with both hands, sipping the hot liquid. “Thank you.”

  He frowned. She still wasn't looking at him.

  “So, what brings you my way?”

  Her gaze made it as high as his chest before she set the mug on the island and said, “I have something for you.”

  She reached in her pocket and scooped out a handful of gray fur. A wiggling handful of gray fur that said, Meow, and looked up at him with huge, curious blue eyes.

  “I found her at my uncle's this morning. I wasn't sure what I should do with her. With it being so early, I couldn't go knock on doors to see if she belongs to someone. Then I remembered that you said you were in desperate need of a cat, and I thought you wouldn't mind taking her in for now.”

  He rubbed the soft fur under the kitten's chin. She closed her eyes and extended her neck to give him better access. “She hardly looks old enough to be away from her mama.”

  “I know. Do you think she'll be all right?”

  The concern lacing Janice's words made him want to ease her mind. She brought out every protective instinct he had and then some. “Well, if we can't figure out who she belongs to, we could take her in to the vet in Maryville. Have her checked out.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” He had a full day, what with things wrapping up at the library and another crew starting two houses in a new subdivision in Lenoir City, but he'd make time. Somehow.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “If she doesn't already have a home, will you keep her?”

  If she kept looking at him like that, he would promise her anything.

  “Are you sure you wouldn't rather have her? I think she's bonded with you.”

  She stroked the kitten in a rhythmic mot
ion. “Oh, no. I couldn't.”

  “Why not?”

  “I'm not sure how my uncle feels about cats, and the complex I live in doesn't allow pets.”

  “That won't matter if you move into your uncle's place permanently. I'm sure he wouldn't mind you having a pet until then.”

  “I can't make the commitment right now. There's a lot to consider. You know that.”

  “Tell you what. I'll keep her under one condition.”

  She chewed her full lower lip and her gaze dipped to his chest again.

  “What's that?”

  “That you exercise liberal visitation.”

  “Deal. I'll even pay the vet bill.”

  “Can't beat that.”

  He bent his knees and caught her gaze. Her cheeks immediately flamed. He took the cat from her and set it on the floor. It rubbed against his ankle. “You okay?”

  “Um, sure. Now that I know you'll keep her, I'm, um, fine. Fine.”

  That incredible emerald gaze dipped. Again. And she licked her lips. Again. Desire, hot and fast, washed over him and he couldn't resist teasing her. “See anything you like?”

  She gasped and would have turned away, but he caught her wrist, halting her retreat. Pulling her forward, he pressed her palm flat against his chest.

  “Oh . . . ”

  Her breath came out in a little puff that teased his neck. Her cold hand felt like a branding iron on his overheated skin, then it shifted inside his shirt, out and down over his flat, taut nipple. She scraped his ribs with her fingernails.

  He unbuttoned her coat and eased his hands inside. She wore a heavy pink cotton sweater that almost reached the waistband of a pair of black, hip hugging knit pants that fit her real nice. In that moment, he thought every morning should start this way. With Janice standing in his kitchen inviting him to seduce her back into his bed with only a touch. A heated glance.

  He pulled her forward with a hand at either side of her hips while she worked the buttons on his shirt. When she had it open, she smoothed her hands across his chest. Sliding his hands to the backs of her thighs, he pulled her up tight against him and did what he'd wanted to do since she walked into his kitchen . . . he kissed her. He didn't wait for a warm-up kiss, just slanted his mouth on hers, open, hot and hungry. Judging from the way she responded, she'd been more than ready.