Then, still frowning, Colin forced himself to apologize.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper and yelled at you.” This was a first for him. He wasn’t used to apologizing.
“It’s in the past,” Miranda told him cheerfully.
He stared at her, trying to make sense out of what she’d just said. “Yeah. Five minutes in the past.” Which meant, as far as he was concerned, that it wasn’t in the past at all.
But he realized that wasn’t the way Miranda obviously looked at things because she said, “Still the past. And I’m sorry if you felt that I was invading your space. That wasn’t my intention.”
“Right. I know. You want to be friends,” Colin responded, unable to fully cover up the exasperated edge in his voice. It frustrated him that he couldn’t figure her out, couldn’t get a handle on the woman.
Who talked like that? Or thought like that? Just what was her angle? There was no way all of this was genuine.
“Would that be so bad?” she was asking him. “Being friends?”
He felt like he was trying to get a sticky substance off his hands—and failing miserably no matter how hard he tried.
He tried one more time to make her understand. “Look, lady, we don’t have a thing in common,” Colin pointed out. “Not a single thing. You seem to see the world as this wonderful, shining place and I see it the way it really is.”
“And how’s that?” she asked him, wanting to hear what his answer was.
He never hesitated. “A dark place where everyone’s out for themselves.”
“I’m not,” she told him.
He frowned. He had a feeling that she would say that. “Well, maybe you’re the exception.”
She’d expected him to say that and she was ready with a response. “And maybe there are more exceptions.”
“Pretty sure you’re the only one.”
“What about your Aunt Lily?” she asked Colin pointedly. “Wouldn’t you say that she’s one?”
He eyed her sharply. “How do you know what my aunt’s like?”
“Easy,” Miranda answered. “When you asked me why I was speeding and I told you about being late for Lily’s birthday, you said that you had an aunt by that name. One look on your face immediately told me you cared a great deal about that aunt.”
“So now you’re into face reading,” Colin said mockingly.
“Not exactly,” she corrected him. “You might say that I’m more into reading people.”
Colin drained the last of his beer from the can and set it down on the table. He knew if he lingered, he was going to regret it. The woman was getting to him—and nothing good could come of that.
“I’ve got to get going,” he told her, standing up.
Miranda rose to her feet, as well. Following her lead, Lola came to attention.
“Sure I can’t talk you into hanging up a few ornaments with me?” Miranda asked. She was fairly certain that she knew his answer, but she wanted to ask just the same.
“Sorry. I’m totally out of practice,” he told her as he started walking out of the dining room for a second time that evening. “I’d probably just wind up breaking them.”
The way he said it had her drawing conclusions. “You don’t have a Christmas tree?” Miranda asked.
“Not for a long, long time,” he answered. “Thanks for dinner—and the beer.”
She smiled as she walked him to the door. “My pleasure.”
He shook his head. By all rights, she should be relieved he was leaving. He hadn’t exactly been the kind of guest that a hostess kept asking to come back—and yet she was acting as if she’d enjoyed his company.
“You are incredible,” he murmured.
Miranda’s smile widened. “If I was incredible, I’d be able to talk you into coming to the hospital ward to visit my kids.”
“You just don’t give up, do you?” he asked in disbelief.
“What’s the point of that?” she said. “If you give up, nothing happens. This way, there’s always a chance that it might.”
He made no comment on that. Instead, Colin merely shook his head. “There’s such a thing as spreading yourself too thin, you know,” he told her, trying to get her to be realistic.
There was that smile again, he noted. The one that told him she knew something that he didn’t—and was pleased by it.
“Hasn’t happened yet,” she told him.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not going to.” It was his parting shot.
* * *
He had every intention of going straight home. Heaven knew he’d earned it. Spending time with that chipper do-gooder had really tired him out. Hell, it had all but wiped him out, actually.
But it had also started him thinking. Not about Miranda and what was starting to sound like her endless tally of good deeds. What it had gotten him thinking about was the fact that he hadn’t been to see his aunt since...well, he wasn’t all that sure when the last time had been, exactly.
So rather than going home and having that beer that was waiting for him in his own refrigerator—a beer that would still be waiting when he finally did get home, he reminded himself—Colin rerouted his path and drove over to his aunt’s house.
Of course, his aunt might be out, he told himself as he made his way there. But it was the middle of the week and Aunt Lily wasn’t exactly the carousing type.
Colin pulled up in her driveway. If it turned out that she wasn’t here, well, he’d tried, and according to that Pollyanna who had insisted on making him dinner tonight, trying was what counted.
After parking his car, he got out and walked up to the front door. It could use some paint. Maybe he’d come by and paint it for her over the holidays. He had a lot of time accrued because he usually didn’t take any days off. There wasn’t anyplace he wanted to go as far as vacations went, and staying home just meant he’d be alone with his thoughts, which was why he’d rather be working.
Colin rang the doorbell and waited.
He’d give it a total of ten minutes, and if Aunt Lily didn’t come to the door by then, well, at least he’d—
“Colin?” The small, genteel woman standing in the doorway was looking at him in utter surprise. “Colin, is anything wrong?”
“No. Why would you think something was wrong?”
“Because it’s Wednesday,” she said. “I mean, because it’s the middle of the week and you never come by in the middle of the week.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t really come by much at all,” Colin admitted, feeling somewhat guilty about that. Especially since Aunt Lily never complained that she didn’t see him.
“I know,” she responded. Then, obviously realizing how that had to sound, she amended by saying, “I mean...” Reaching up, she touched his face lovingly. “You’re sure nothing’s wrong?”
“I’m sure.” He laughed, shaking his head. “The only thing that’s wrong is that I haven’t been by much to see you.”
“I understand, sweetheart. You’ve been busy,” Lily told him. Wielding guilt had never been her way. Tucking her arm through his, she gave in to the sheer pleasure of seeing him. “Come in, come in. Have you eaten?” Not waiting for an answer, she offered, “Can I fix you something?”
“I already had dinner, Aunt Lily,” he told her.
She closed the door behind him and then turned to look at her nephew.
“Today? You had something to eat today?” she questioned, then went on to say, “You look so thin.”
“The department doesn’t like to see fat motorcycle cops, Aunt Lily. It’s hard on the bikes.”
Lily shook her head. “It’s a wonder they can see you at all. Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat?”
In her own way, his aunt was as persistent as that do-gooder was. “How about coffe
e?” he said. “I’ll take some coffee.”
“How about some banana cream pie?” Lily offered, preceding him to the kitchen. “You used to love banana cream pie when you were a little boy,” she recalled.
He knew she wouldn’t stop until he agreed to have something, and obviously coffee wasn’t going to cut it. “Okay, I’ll have a piece of pie. But I really just came by to see how you were.”
Lily smiled. “I’m wonderful now that my favorite nephew’s stopped by.”
“I’m your only nephew, Aunt Lily,” he reminded her, amused.
“That makes this that much more special.,” She gave him one final penetrating look. “You’re absolutely certain nothing’s wrong?”
“Absolutely,” he assured her.
“All right, then come to the kitchen and let’s have some of that pie,” she told him, hooking her arm through his again. Smiling up at his face, she said, “I’ve been dying for an excuse to have some—and this is certainly it.”
“Glad to help,” Colin told her.
Lily merely smiled.
Chapter Ten
Colin realized that he was more on edge and alert than usual. That was because he kept looking around for Miranda to pop up. He told himself that he didn’t want to run into her. If he saw her coming, he could avoid her.
So he remained vigilant, expecting the woman to materialize somewhere along his usual route, the way she had the day she’d waylaid him about that little girl’s missing mother.
He didn’t drop his guard when he walked into the precinct, since she’d turned up there, as well.
But she didn’t turn up there, nor did she track him down along his route. Not that day, nor the next day. Nor the day after that.
When the third day passed, he told himself he should feel relieved. That maybe “the curse” had been lifted.
But he didn’t feel relieved. Instead, he had this uneasy, growing feeling of impending doom. He sensed that the second he let his guard down, Miranda would strike again.
The odd thing was that he felt edgier when she wasn’t around than when she was and he was interacting with her.
So after the third Pollyanna-free day came and went, he began to think that something was wrong. Rather than leave well enough alone, he found himself needing answers in order to gain some sort of peace of mind—or a reasonable facsimile thereof.
Maybe she hadn’t been around because Lily’s mother had taken a turn for the worse. Or possibly that German shepherd Miranda had brought home with her—Lulu or Lola or something like that—had turned on her. It had been known to happen.
Not all German shepherds took after Rin Tin Tin, although Colin was still annoyed with himself for not just being grateful that she wasn’t around, but actually seeking her out.
He refused to examine what he was doing, because if he had, he would have labeled himself as certifiably insane. What else would you call willingly leaping out of the frying pan into the fire?
As if in self-defense, he jabbed the doorbell before he could think better of it, get into his car and drive away as if the very devil was after him.
Run¸ you idiot! Get out of here before it’s too late!
But he didn’t.
He heard barking in the background the second he pressed the doorbell. Either that canine Miranda had brought home had turned into a guard dog, or she was trying to get his attention because something had happened to her mistress.
Damn it, what the hell was wrong with him? Colin wondered. He didn’t think this way.
Calling himself a few choice names, he turned on his heel and began to walk away.
“Colin?”
Miranda had the same surprised note in her voice that he’d heard in his aunt Lily’s when he’d showed up at her place.
Apparently nobody expected him just to drop in. So why was he doing it?
“Yeah.” Colin answered almost grudgingly, half turning toward her. “I just wanted to make sure everything was all right—with Lily’s mother,” he added belatedly, not wanting Miranda to think that he was here checking up on her.
Knowing the perverse way the woman’s mind worked, he’d never hear the end of it if she thought that.
Miranda’s surprise gave way to a welcoming smile. “She’s doing fine, thanks to you,” she told him. She opened the door farther. “Why don’t you come on in? Lola would love to see you,” she added, glancing over her shoulder to the German shepherd, who was fairly leaping from paw to paw.
As if she knew that she had temporarily taken center stage, the dog barked at him.
Miranda laughed, then told her visitor, “And I’ve got some more beer in the refrigerator.”
When he still made no move to come in, she took hold of his arm and coaxingly pulled him across the threshold.
He should have made his getaway when he had a chance, Colin thought, allowing himself to be drawn in.
And then he thought of her offer. “Do you even drink beer?” he asked.
“No.”
Okay, like everything else that had to do with her, that made no sense. “Then why do you have it in your refrigerator?”
That was easy to explain. She released him. “A few of the women I work with at the hospital and the animal shelter stop by on occasion. I keep the beer on hand for them.”
Again Colin told himself he’d made a mistake in coming here. “I can’t stay—” he began.
Miranda felt that maybe he needed to be coaxed a little more. “Well, you came all the way over here, so surely you can stay for one beer.”
“It’s not that far from your place to mine,” he protested. His point was that he hadn’t gone out of his way all that much—but he realized his mistake the moment the words were out of his mouth. He’d inadvertently given her too much information.
Her next words confirmed it.
“So you do live in Bedford.” Not all members of the police department did. “What neighborhood?”
He was not about to compound his mistake. “There are stalking laws on the books, you know.”
There was a knowing, amused smile on her lips. “You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep, and at the animal shelter before that,” she pointed out.
He was immediately defensive. “Are you saying you think I’m the stalker?”
“I’m just saying it’s only fair that I know where you live, since you know where I live.” With a wink, she added, “Not everything has a hidden agenda. Sit,” she told him. “I’ll go get that beer.”
When she walked back in, she saw that he was still on his feet and was looking at the Christmas tree.
“Haven’t gotten very far decorating it, have you?” he commented.
Miranda handed him the cold can of beer. “Like I said, I only get to hang up a few ornaments every night. I can’t seem to convince Lola to hang up any while I’m out.” When his eyes narrowed and he looked at her, puzzled, she told him, “That’s a joke.”
“I never know with you,” he admitted drolly.
She would have loved to just sit down beside him and talk, but she had a feeling he might think she was crowding him. It would seem more natural to him if she worked on the tree, so she asked, “Would you mind if I put up some decorations while you’re here?”
Colin waved a careless hand. “Don’t let me keep you.” As Miranda got back to hanging up the ornaments, he took a long pull from the can. Lola had plopped herself next to his feet and looked up at him. The scene was far too domestic for him.
And yet...
“You decided to keep the dog?” he asked, assuming that was why the animal was still here.
“Well, at least until after Christmas,” Miranda answered. Arming herself with several decorations, she moved around the tree, seeking out empty spaces. “Everyone who c
omes to the shelter at this time of year is looking for a cute little dog to give to their kids.” She glanced over at the German shepherd and said fondly, “Lola’s cute, but she definitely isn’t little.”
He laughed drily. “That’s an understatement.” He studied the animal. “She’s got to be the biggest female German shepherd I’ve ever seen. I thought they were supposed to be a little smaller than this.”
“Obviously Lola hasn’t read the German shepherd handbook,” Miranda quipped, stretching to hang up a long silver bell. “But what she lacks in daintiness she makes up for with friendliness. I’ve been working at the animal shelter for a couple of years now and she’s got to be the most docile dog I’ve ever encountered.” Picking up a few more ornaments, she searched for more empty spaces she could reach. “Most dogs freak out when they see a vacuum cleaner, much less when they hear one being operated. Lola, bless her, is completely indifferent to it. I could probably vacuum Lola and it wouldn’t faze her in the slightest.”
The dog wasn’t all that easygoing, he thought. “I heard her barking when I rang the doorbell.”
“That’s because when she thinks someone is trying to come in, she instantly gets into her protective mode. She’s being protective of me,” Miranda explained, her voice coming from behind the tree. “Once she sees that I’m okay with you, she’s fine.”
Colin remained on the sofa, sipping his beer and absently petting the dog as he watched Miranda circling the Christmas tree, hanging up ornaments whenever she found a space.
“Damn,” he heard her murmur under her breath. She’d worked her way back to the point where she’d started.
“What’s the matter?”
She sighed. “I’m going to have to bring out a ladder from the garage to hang up any more of the ornaments tonight. The tree’s beginning to look kind of bottom heavy and I can’t reach the higher branches,” she explained.
She was doing it again, he thought. Roping him into helping. If he had half a brain, he’d just ignore her.
Sighing, Colin stood up. Leaving his beer on the coffee table, he crossed to her. “Where do you want to hang that?” he asked, nodding at the decoration in her hand.
Christmastime Courtship Page 9
