Make-Believe Mistletoe

by Gina Wilkins

  It occurred to her then that Banner was sending her a not-so-well-buried message within the casual conversation. If he had known about her prospect list, he would be telling her flat-out that he didn't belong on it.

  As if she hadn't already figured that out. And as if she hadn't already put him on the list, anyway.

  Banner might have written off any chance that there could be more than a passing acquaintance between them, but Lucy wasn't so sure.

  It looked as though it was going to be up to her to take the initiative. Because she seemed to have missed inheriting the shy gene altogether-at least when it came to something that was of particular importance to her-she moved a step closer to him, rested a hand lightly on his chest and smiled up at him through her lashes. “There's one holiday tradition we've forgotten.”

  He immediately looked suspicious. “What?”

  “The mistletoe.”

  “We don't have any-”

  “Pretend we do,” she advised him just before rising on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips.

  He didn't respond at all at first, and she wondered if she had made a miscalculation. And then his arms went around her and she found herself pressed against the counter as he kissed her with a barely contained heat that almost singed her eyelashes. Even as she was a bit startled by the emotions she had unleashed, she was gratified to confirm that Banner wasn't nearly as disinterested as he had tried to act.

  His lips were hard and hungry against hers, moving with a rough skill that drew an equally powerful response from her. She felt her heart pounding against her chest, and she was pressed so tightly against him that he could probably feel it, too.

  She could certainly feel the signs of his arousal, which only made her heart slam harder against her rib cage.

  A burst of laughter from the other room intruded on the moment, catching Banner's attention and causing him to lift his head. Without releasing Lucy, he closed his eyes in an expression of self-recrimination. “Damn it.”

  Hardly the most romantic conclusion to a spectacular embrace, Lucy thought with a soft sigh. But from Banner, maybe it was more revealing than any other man's flowery compliments.

  “I thought it was a great kiss, too,” she murmured with a shaky smile.

  He hesitated a moment, studying her face intently, and then he stepped back. “The water's boiling,” he said. “We should call everyone in for breakfast.”

  He was right, of course. There were still too many other people around. There would be time for Lucy and Banner to explore their attraction later, after the others had gone.

  Proving that she could be patient when the incentive was important enough, Lucy decided to enjoy every moment of this unexpectedly magical Christmas morning.

  Chapter Eight

  Temperatures warmed rapidly during the morning, and by lunchtime the ice was all but gone except for in the most deeply shaded areas. Traffic was beginning to move on the highway again, the number and speed of passing vehicles increasing as Christmas day progressed and the roads dried.

  Banner raided his kitchen one last time for lunch, opening cans of soup, which he served with crackers and cheese and the canned fruit that had been left over from breakfast. Lucy noted that the entire group was a bit more subdued than they had been before, perhaps because they knew their time together was coming to an end.

  Everyone seemed ready to proceed to their original destinations, she decided, but they had enjoyed being here more than they had expected. She was pleased to know they would all have some pleasant memories of this Christmas morning to carry with them.

  Tyler and Tricia pretty much dominated the lunchtime conversation, talking about the gifts Santa had brought them and anticipating the ones they would be getting at their grandmother's house. Tyler was expecting a highly touted new game for the video game system he had received for his birthday in September. Though his mother warned him about not being too confident of what his grandmother had gotten him, something about her tone let Lucy know the boy wouldn't be disappointed.

  Lucy couldn't help noticing that Joan and Bobby Ray were doing quite a bit of quiet talking at the other side of the table. She overheard Bobby Ray say something about giving Joan a call after the first of the year. Lucy hoped that meant Bobby Ray was planning to ask Joan out and that he had not been referring to something less promising.

  The more Lucy had thought about it, the more she believed that Bobby Ray and Joan made a great couple.

  She smiled as she visualized Banner and Bobby Ray sitting beneath the Christmas tree, a big shiny bow on each manly head. Maybe Santa had arranged a pleasant little surprise for both Lucy and Joan.

  “What does that smile mean?” Banner leaned over to ask her, studying her expression with a curious frown. “It looks sort of…wicked.”

  She laughed. It was a good thing he couldn't read her mind. If he knew what she had been thinking, or how prominently he had appeared in last night's dreams, he really would think she was wicked.

  “I don't think I should say just now,” she told him, which only made him look more suspicious.

  Joan and Lucy insisted on cleaning up after lunch since Banner had done so much for them already. They had barely finished clearing the kitchen when someone knocked heavily on the front door. The promised wrecker had arrived to pull Bobby Ray's truck out of the ditch and get him back on the road for his impatient employer.

  It didn't take all that long to get the mostly undamaged truck out of the shallow ditch. Barely half an hour after the wrecker arrived, Bobby Ray was ready to go.

  He drew Lucy aside. “Banner won't take this from me, but I want you to make sure he gets it before you leave-even if you have to slip it into his cookie jar,” he said in a low voice as he pressed a hundred-dollar bill into her hand. “I tried to tell him I wanted to repay him for his food and hospitality, but he kept telling me to forget about it.”

  “I'll make sure he gets it,” she promised with a smile, “and I'll be adding a bit to it. We pretty well cleaned out his supplies.”

  “Yeah. We were all lucky that he took us in.”

  “Most definitely. So, you're on your way?”

  “Looks like. They've got the truck ready to go, so there's really no reason for me to hang around any longer.”

  She squeezed his hand. “It was very nice to meet you, Bobby Ray. I enjoyed spending Christmas Eve with you.”

  “Same here, Miss Lucy.” He leaned way down to plant a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Maybe we'll see each other again sometime.”

  “Maybe we will. And, um, maybe you'll be seeing Joan again?” she asked in a broad hint she simply couldn't resist.

  He chuckled, catching her meaning. “If it's up to me, I will. What do you think?”

  “I think you should definitely call her.”

  “Guess I should listen to the doctor,” he said with a grin. “You've had some pretty good ideas so far.”

  Lucy watched Bobby Ray take a warm leave of Miss Annie and Pop, and then he said his goodbyes to Tyler and Tricia. It was so obvious to her that he had already grown fond of the children. Joan needn't worry about her kids being a barrier to a possible relationship with this big, kind-hearted man.

  Way to go, Santa, Lucy thought with a mental thumbs-up. Now, if only he had come through as well for her…

  It seemed much quieter in the house without Bobby Ray's deep voice and booming laughter. Joan was particularly preoccupied after his departure, obviously distracted by her own thoughts. Less than an hour after he left, at just before two that afternoon, she deemed the roads clear enough for her to continue her journey to her mother's house.

  “You be very careful,” Lucy cautioned her. “And have a wonderful Christmas with your family.”

  “I will. Thank you.” Joan gave her an impulsive hug. “We're going to get together for lunch in Conway soon?”

  “Definitely. I'll look forward to hearing from you.”

  Lucy felt a tug at the bottom of her sweater. “Me
rry Christmas, Miss Lucy,” Tricia said, copying Bobby Ray's nickname for her. The little girl was already swaddled in her coat, hat and scarf, and had her new doll tucked protectively into the curve of her left arm. “Thank you for the books. I like them a lot.”

  Reaching down to hug the child, Lucy replied, “You're very welcome, Tricia. I hope you enjoy them.”

  “Thank you for my books, too,” Tyler said after a subtle nudge from his mother.

  Lucy knew better than to embarrass him with a hug, but she gave him a warm smile instead. “You're welcome, too, Tyler. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas with your grandmother.”

  The children then thanked Banner again for the wooden toys and Miss Annie for the knitted gifts. They hugged Pop when he held out his arms to them-Tyler with a macho show of reluctance that he didn't really seem to mean-and both told Pop how much they had enjoyed singing Christmas carols with him.

  Tyler took his fondest farewell of Banner's dog-the only one the boy really seemed to have trouble leaving, Lucy thought in amusement. Going down onto one knee, Tyler hugged the shaggy dog with an affection he hadn't allowed himself to show the others.

  “'Bye, Hulk,” Tyler said. “You be a good boy, okay?”

  The dog woofed softly and wagged its tail lazily in farewell.

  Joan paused shyly in front of Banner. “I don't know how to thank you for all you've done,” she said. “You've been so kind. Are you sure you won't let me repay you at least for…”

  He cut in before she could say any more, his voice gruff, his expression embarrassed. “That's not necessary. I enjoyed having company for Christmas. As for the food, it would all have spoiled, anyway, with the power out. I'm glad it went to good use.”

  Joan held out her hand to him, obviously accepting that his male pride would not allow him to take money from a single mother. “Then I'll simply say thank you, and merry Christmas.”

  He shook her hand. “Merry Christmas to you, too. Drive carefully.”

  Lucy sighed a little in response to the awkward kindness in Banner's voice as he spoke to Joan. He was so darned appealing.

  Almost as if on cue, the Carters' grandsons arrived just as Joan backed her car carefully out of Banner's driveway. Two handsome, strapping young men who obviously adored their grandparents thanked Banner effusively for offering safe shelter to the stranded couple. They, too, offered reimbursement, but once again Banner refused to even consider accepting.

  Lucy made a mental note to make sure he didn't have a chance to refuse the money from herself and Bobby Ray. She would leave it somewhere where he would find it after she was gone. He would be annoyed, but he would realize that he would have done the same had the situation been reversed.

  Both Pop and Miss Annie kissed Lucy's cheeks as affectionately as if they had known her for ages rather than hours. And then Miss Annie pulled Banner down to her so she could kiss him, too.

  Lucy was delighted when Banner blushed as vividly as a schoolboy.

  Pop lingered behind after his grandsons escorted Miss Annie out to the car. His expression was somber when he turned to Banner and Lucy.

  “My wife isn't well,” he said, his voice quiet. “This is likely to be her last Christmas on this earth. She wanted to spend it with people she cared about.”

  Banner looked almost stricken and at a loss, as Lucy was, about what to say in response to Pop's poignant words. “I'm sorry your plans didn't work out,” he said finally.

  Pop smiled then. Gently. Sweetly. “You don't understand. I'm trying to thank you for making her wish come true. Everyone was so kind to her-especially the two of you. You went out of your way to make sure it was a pleasant holiday rather than an unfortunate string of circumstances, and I appreciate your efforts more than you'll ever know.”

  Now Lucy was blushing. “It wasn't just us,” she said, knowing she spoke for Banner, too. “Bobby Ray and Joan-”

  “Yes, I know everyone pitched in to make it nice,” Pop cut in indulgently. “And I thanked them as they left. Now I must be going. Mother and I have another Christmas celebration waiting for us with even more people that we care about.”

  There was an enormous lump in Lucy's throat as she watched the old man shuffle outside, where he was joined hastily by one of his grandsons. She watched until the two vehicles left the driveway, leaving her little car sitting there looking a bit lonely.

  She would miss them all, she mused. As much as she looked forward to seeing her own relatives, she felt almost as though she had adopted a second family during the past couple of days.

  Even knowing that they had shared the superficial camaraderie of enforced circumstances, she thought the warmth between them had been sincere. She had genuinely liked each one of her fellow travelers, and she hoped to see them all again. She thought she had made a new friend in Joan, and she always welcomed new friends.

  As for Banner…

  She turned to face him, suddenly, intensely aware that they were now alone in his house. She was free to leave at any time-but she didn't want to go just yet. She only wished she knew how Banner felt about her.

  Banner didn't want Lucy to go. Even though he knew it was time for her to move on, time for her to return to a life that didn't include him, he dreaded the thought of saying goodbye to her. The requisite niceties, the patently false assurances that they would see each other again sometime, the polite offer and rejection of compensation, the expressions of gratitude he didn't want.

  It had been bad enough from the others, but that wasn't at all the way he wanted to part from Lucy.

  Problem was, he didn't want to part from Lucy at all. At least, not yet, he corrected himself.

  But because he saw no point in delaying the inevitable, he drew a deep breath and turned to her. “Thanks for helping me see everyone off. I know you're eager to join your father and your other family members.”

  “Yes. But there's no reason for me to rush away. It's just a little more than a two-hour drive from here, and it's not even three o'clock yet.”

  Was she telling him she was in no hurry to leave? Remembering the way she had kissed him in the kitchen earlier, he wondered again if she was seeing something in him that wasn't really there, if she was perhaps mistaking simple-if powerful-physical attraction for something more lasting.

  He cleared his throat. “It'll be nice to have my house to myself again. I'm not used to having a lot of people around. I get a lot more done when Hulk and I have the place to ourselves.”

  Amusement warmed her pretty face and gleamed in her emerald eyes, as if she were savoring a joke she wasn't ready to share with him. “I'm sure Hulk is excellent company.”

  “Ideal company,” he replied, studying her smile with some suspicion. “He doesn't expect me to entertain him or cater to him. He isn't offended when I spend all day in my workshop or if I'm not in the mood to talk or play. It doesn't bother him that I don't know when his birthday is and he has no interest in mine. He's happy with a simple life-plain food, a warm bed, an occasional tummy rub. He's never asked for more from me than I was willing-or able-to give.”

  “That's quite an endorsement, Hulk,” she murmured, patting the dog's shaggy head. “You should be very proud. What breed is he, by the way?”

  Realizing that she was talking to him again, Banner cleared his throat. “Beats the hell out of me. I found him on my doorstep when he was a pup about three years ago. I figured he was so ugly someone just dumped him.”

  “And because you identified with him, you took him in and made him your friend,” Lucy murmured. And then she laughed at his expression.

  “I don't mean you identified with the ugly part,” she assured him. “You've got enough mirrors around here to know you're just the opposite of ugly. But perhaps there were other things about him that reminded you of yourself.”

  How had she possibly known how strongly he had been drawn to the gawky, oddball, unwanted stray pup he'd found huddling defensively in his yard? And when she had said he was the opposite of u
gly, did that mean she found him…?

  Shaking his head impatiently, he half turned away. “I'm sure you're eager to get on the road.”

  “You seem awfully anxious for me to leave.” She reached out to rest a hand on his forearm. “Maybe I was mistaken, but I thought we had a few things to say to each other before I go.”

  His first instinct was to move away from her, but her touch felt too good to shake off so easily. Instead he resorted to cynicism. “The professor and the woodworker? I can't imagine we'd have much to say to each other.”

  He'd expected either hurt or anger in response to his dismissive tone. He wasn't prepared for her laughter. The low, husky sound of it went straight to his loins, even as it baffled him. What the hell was so funny?

  Her hand slid slowly up his arm to his shoulder, and his imagination kicked into overdrive, so that he could almost feel little pops of electricity everywhere she touched him. “I think we can find something to talk about,” she murmured, looking up at him through her wickedly long lashes.

  He swallowed heavily. “You, uh, should realize that we didn't meet under normal circumstances. The holiday mood probably influenced you, and I've made an effort to be…well, more charming than usual. I'm not really like-damn it, would you stop laughing at me?”

  “I can't help it.” Her smile was nearly blinding, her eyes glittering with firelight and appreciation. “You're just so sweet when you're all panicky and noble.”

  Sweet, panicky, noble. Not one of those adjectives pleased him. “I am not panicky,” he informed her, choosing the one that bothered him most. “I'm trying to keep you from doing something you'll regret.”

  “I'll worry about my regrets. Do you want me to leave now, Banner? Because if you do, I certainly don't want to overstay my welcome.”

  “No.” He had answered without having to think about it. “But-”

  Lucy moved a little closer to him. “You know that make-believe mistletoe in the kitchen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It just moved into this room,” she said as she rose onto her tiptoes.