Christmastime Courtship

by Marie Ferrarella

Chapter Thirteen

  “I see you finished decorating your Christmas tree,” Colin commented as he followed her into the kitchen.

  Miranda nodded cheerfully. “Yes, finally. All those boxes and ornaments were starting to make the living room a real obstacle course, not to mention pretty messy. So I made up my mind that I wasn’t going to go to bed until I had hung the last ornament on the tree.

  “The next day I happily put all the boxes away.” She looked down at the dog, who was eyeing the pizza box as if expecting to see slices come leaping out. “This way Lola has a little more room to move around, don’t you, girl?”

  “She doesn’t strike me as the type to be put off by a bunch of boxes,” he observed. “I can see her plowing through them.”

  “She kind of does plow through things when she wants to get somewhere,” Miranda agreed.

  He set down the pizza box and watched her take a couple plates from the cupboard. She placed them on either side of the box. “I thought you said she was becoming more obedient.”

  “I said we were working on it,” she corrected. “Right now,” Miranda told him, patting the German shepherd’s head, “she’s a work in progress.”

  There was no missing the affection in the woman’s voice. “You seem kind of attached to her,” Colin observed.

  “It’s hard not to be.” Taking out a bottle of beer, she set it next to Colin’s plate. “She’s very affectionate and lovable.” She saw the confused way Colin was looking at the beer. “I just replaced the can you drank the other day,” she explained.

  “Uh-huh,” he responded, taking her explanation at face value. He waited for her to sit down opposite him. “What are you going to do when someone adopts her?” he asked.

  “Be happy for her,” she answered.

  Her response sounded rather automatic to him. Miranda probably meant that on some level, because she was a selfless person. But on another level, he had a feeling she would miss the German shepherd a great deal if the dog was placed in another home. “Why don’t you adopt her?”

  Taking a large slice of pizza, she bit into it. And then laughed softly. “If I adopted every dog I fostered, I’d wind up being cited by the police for having way too many dogs in my house. This area isn’t zoned for kennels,” she reminded him.

  He shrugged. After all, she probably knew what was best for her. It was just that there seemed to be a bond between her and the dog she was fostering. But then, he hadn’t known Miranda all that long and most likely she was like this with all the dogs she took care of—just like she was with all the children she looked after at the hospital.

  “This is really good pizza,” she commented. Looking at the box, she read the name written across the top. “Rizzoli’s.” She shook her head. It didn’t ring a bell. I don’t think I’m familiar with that chain.”

  “That’s because it’s not a chain,” he told her. He was finishing up his second slice and then slid a third one onto his plate in between washing them down with beer. “It’s this little hole-in-the-wall of a place in the next town. Easy to miss,” he told her. “It’s been there for about twenty years. I discovered it when I moved back to Bedford.”

  “The next town?” Miranda repeated. “That’s a long way to travel for something that’s available in practically every shopping center in Bedford.”

  Colin shrugged and then his eyes met hers. “Sometimes quality is worth going the extra mile or so.”

  Miranda grinned. Leaning over, she took her napkin and wiped away a dab of sauce from the corner of his mouth. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn a spark of electricity zapped through her. “I’m glad you think so.”

  What was she up to? he wondered, and why was he so captivated by her? Why wasn’t he just walking out instead of sitting here across from this do-gooder?

  “Why do I feel like I’m being set up for something?” he asked Miranda.

  “Because you’re a cop and you’re naturally suspicious,” she replied with a warm laugh. “You’re not being set up for anything,” she told him, and heaven help him, he believed her. “Besides, setting you up would be an awful way to pay you back for bringing over this really great pizza.”

  Lola had been whimpering since they’d started eating. Her whimper was growing louder by increments. Obviously antsy, the German shepherd had moved from Miranda’s right side to her left and then back again, watching her with big brown eyes that seemed to grow larger each time she moved.

  Upping her game, Lola dipped her head and slipped it under Miranda’s arm, nudging it.

  Miranda laughed. “Okay, okay, I surrender.” Tearing off a piece from her slice, she held it out to the dog. Less than half a second later, the piece was gone, disappearing between Lola’s teeth.

  “Hey, you could lose a finger that way,” Colin warned, instantly alert.

  “No, she’s very careful,” she assured him. “For a dog with such big teeth, Lola’s incredibly gentle when she takes food from my hand.”

  He knew that in Miranda’s place, he would have flinched, hearing those teeth click shut. But she had remained completely unfazed. “I take it this isn’t the first time she’s eaten out of your hand.”

  “No, it’s not,” she confirmed. “Lola likes to kibitz when I’m having dinner.”

  “You’re spoiling her,” he told her. There was disapproval in his voice.

  It was Miranda’s turn to shrug. “Lola’s been through so much, I figure she’s entitled to a little spoiling.” As he watched, Miranda’s expression darkened. “Her last owner chained her up in the backyard, then beat her and starved her. He didn’t give her any water, either.”

  “How did Lola wind up at the shelter?” Colin asked her.

  “A neighbor heard her whimpering and looked over this guy’s fence. Lola was half-dead. Horrified, he called the police. They arrived just in time. Another couple of days and Lola would have died,” she told him fiercely. “Needless to say, they took her away.”

  Colin had set his beer down when she started telling him about Lola’s background. “What happened to the owner?” he asked.

  Every time she thought about the incident, Miranda was filled with anger.

  “He got off with a fine. If it were up to me, I would have had him drawn and quartered in the town square and made an example of.” She saw Colin looking at her incredulously. She wondered if she’d set off some alarms in his head since, after all, the man was a police officer. “What?”

  “I’ve just never seen you angry before. I didn’t think you were capable of it,” he confessed.

  “Oh, I’m capable of it all right,” Miranda assured him. “Cruelty of any kind gets me very angry—especially when it comes to children or animals.” She saw his reaction. “Why are you grinning?”

  For once his poker face failed him. “You look kind of...I don’t know...cute when you get angry like that. You don’t exactly fit the part of an avenging angel, that’s all.”

  Miranda pressed her lips together, but her anger was abating. Her eyes did narrow a little, though. “You’re making fun of me,” she accused.

  “No, not really.” He polished off yet another pizza slice. “It’s just nice to know that you have this darker side to you. Up until now,” he admitted, “I wasn’t sure you were human.”

  “I’m all too human,” Miranda told him. She pushed away her plate. “I’m also stuffed.”

  Colin doubted it. “You only had two and a half slices,” he pointed out.

  “And I’m stuffed,” Miranda repeated.

  “How?” he asked. He nodded at the dog, who was still circling the table. “Lola could probably eat more than you just did.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Miranda agreed with a laugh. She watched the dog for a moment “She burns it all up running around in the backyard.”

&nb
sp; Colin snorted. “And you, of course, just lie around like a slug.”

  Tickled, Miranda grinned at his assessment. “I don’t need much fuel.”

  He nodded at her empty plate. “Obviously.”

  Her attention shifted toward the open pizza box. There were several slices still in it. “Speaking of which, why don’t you take what’s left home with you when you go? You can do it more justice than I would. And if you leave it here, I’ll only wind up giving it to Lola when she starts begging.”

  He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re going to have to learn how to say no.”

  Amusement curved her mouth as she raised her eyes to his. “I’m working on it.”

  For just a moment, he wondered if Miranda was putting him on some kind of notice—and if she felt she needed to. Which in turn led him to wonder why. Was she afraid that he thought bringing over pizza entitled him to make a move on her?

  Where the hell had that come from? Colin silently demanded. He was here because he was paying her back for the dinner she’d made him, nothing more. He certainly wasn’t thinking of her in any sort of a romantic light. Just because they’d accidentally kissed didn’t mean he wanted to capitalize on it—even if it had been a memorable kiss.

  Damn it, he upbraided himself, he was overthinking the whole thing. Maybe he should go home now.

  As he wrestled with his thoughts, Miranda rose and took her plate to the sink.

  He still had part of a slice—his fifth one—on his plate. Making a decision, Colin picked up what was left of it and lowered his hand to Lola’s level.

  On cue, the German shepherd quickly rounded the table to his side. Colin hardly saw her open her mouth. Just like that, the pizza was gone.

  “Now who’s spoiling her?” Miranda asked with a knowing laugh.

  Colin’s shoulders rose and fell in a careless shrug. “I don’t like seeing food go to waste,” he told her.

  “Neither do I,” she replied. “Of course, if I keep this up with Lola, she is definitely going to wind up being a blimp.”

  He looked at the dog, who seemed to know that no more slices were coming her way tonight. With a satisfied yawn, she stretched out at his feet.

  This was far too domestic a scene, Colin thought uneasily. He really should be on his way home.

  But somehow, he remained sitting where he was. “I don’t think there’s much chance of that,” he told Miranda. “She looks pretty lean to me.”

  “Hear that, Lola?” Miranda asked. She finished drying her hands and left the towel hanging on the hook next to the refrigerator. “The nice police officer just paid you a compliment.”

  Hearing her name, Lola barked in response.

  Miranda’s eyes crinkled as she suppressed a laugh. “She says thank you,” she told Colin.

  “You didn’t tell me you can communicate with dogs.” But to be honest, it wouldn’t have surprised him if she said she did.

  “You don’t have to speak the language to be able to communicate,” Miranda answered. Rather than sit down at the table again, she paused and glanced toward the rear of the house. “Oh, by the way, I have something for you.”

  “What do you mean by ‘something’?” he asked warily, on his guard.

  “Don’t look so worried. It’s not a bribe,” Miranda teased. “It’s harmless. Wait right here.” With that, she hurried out of the kitchen. “I got it on my lunch break,” she called, raising her voice so that it carried back to him.

  Minutes later, Miranda returned to the kitchen, carrying a two-foot potted fir tree. The tree was decorated with a string of lights and tiny silver and blue Christmas balls.

  “This is for you,” she told him, setting the tree on the table. “I took a chance that you still hadn’t gotten a Christmas tree.”

  “I didn’t,” he answered.

  Colin was about to add that he had no plans to get one and that he never got a tree at Christmas time. The last time there’d been a Christmas tree in his house, he was living at his aunt’s and the tree in question had been hers, not his.

  But something stopped him from telling Miranda any of that, at least for now.

  “I was going to get a bigger tree, but I didn’t think you’d want it, so I settled for this small, live one,” she explained.

  He didn’t want one at all, but since she’d gone to the trouble of going out and buying it for him, he bit his tongue and refrained from saying that.

  Instead, curious, he asked her, “Did the tree come with decorations?”

  “Not exactly,” she confessed. “But to be honest, I didn’t think you’d decorate it if I handed you a naked tree, so I did it for you. It was kind of fun, being able to deck out a Christmas tree in half an hour.” Her momentum picked up as she added, “And when the season’s over, you can plant it in your backyard.”

  “Just one problem with that,” Colin told her. He broke off a small piece from one of the remaining pizza slices. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lola come to attention again. “I don’t have a backyard.”

  Miranda never missed a beat. “Or you can transplant it into a larger pot as it starts to get bigger.” Second-guessing Colin’s objection to that suggestion, she offered, “I could do that for you if you’re too busy.”

  “Because you have so much time on your hands,” he said with a touch of sarcasm. He felt his conscience taking him to task. Miranda was only trying to be nice, he reminded himself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

  “No offense taken,” she told him. “Besides, haven’t you ever heard the old saying ‘If you want something done, ask a busy person to do it’?”

  “No, I haven’t. But I’ll take your word for it.” He looked at the tree with its dainty ornaments and the bright red foil wrapped around its base. “Thanks. It’s a nice-looking tree.” He left it standing on the table for now. “But you really didn’t have to get me one,” Colin stressed.

  “Let’s just say it makes me happy doing so,” she told him. “I couldn’t stand the idea of you not having at least a little tree—so I got you one.”

  It was little, but he would have preferred an even smaller one—or better yet, none at all.

  Colin pinned her with a piercing look. “But why would that bother you?” he couldn’t help asking. “Not having a tree doesn’t bother me.”

  “I know, but it does me.” She could see they could go on dancing endlessly around the same point, so she tried something else. “It’s a reminder of goodwill toward one another.”

  It took a lot to suppress the laugh that rose to his lips, but somehow, he managed. “Maybe if everyone thought the way you do, there’d be no need to be reminded. It would just be a given,” Colin mused.

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me,” she told him, her eyes misting.

  “If it’s so nice, why are you crying?” he asked. If he lived to be a hundred and fifty, he would never understand women.

  Miranda shrugged. “I guess I’m one of those people who cries when she’s happy.”

  Colin shook his head. “Talk about mixed signals,” he murmured.

  He needed to leave.

  He could feel barriers weakening within him, walls being breached and beliefs he’d held as hard and fast truths dissolving like cotton candy left out in the rain.

  This woman was turning him inside out without lifting a finger, he thought grudgingly. If he didn’t leave now, he didn’t know what sort of mental condition he’d be in by the time he did leave.

  “Okay,” he said, rising. “I’d better be going.” Belatedly, he remembered the little Christmas tree on the table. “Thanks for the tree.”

  “Thank you for dinner and for coming to the hospital today,” she told him. “The kids just couldn’t stop talking about you after you left. You were definitel
y the highlight of their week.”

  He had no idea how to respond to that. Being on the receiving end of gratitude was totally new to him. “Yeah, no problem.”

  “Oh, I think it was a problem for you, which was why having you come was so special—for everyone,” she added meaningfully.

  “You included?”

  Now why the hell had he just said that? Was he asking for trouble? Colin silently demanded.

  Miranda took a breath before answering. “Me most of all.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The moment, wrapped in silence, stretched out for a long time. He didn’t know how to respond to what she’d just said.

  Me most of all.

  Finally, he stumbled through an awkward answer. “Oh, um, good to know.”

  Miranda felt sorry for him. Colin looked completely out of his element. Deftly, she changed the direction of the conversation.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” she offered.

  “No,” he said, perhaps a little too forcefully. All he wanted to do now was to get into his vehicle—quickly—and drive away. “You don’t have to,” he added.

  She nodded at the things still on the table. “You can’t carry the Christmas tree and the pizza box at the same time.”

  The German shepherd presented herself right next to him, a plaintive look on her face. He read between the lines.

  “Um, I think that Lola would probably prefer if I left the pizza here.”

  Miranda pushed the pizza along the table so it was closer to him.

  “Which is exactly why you’re taking it with you. Too much people food isn’t good for her and you’ve already seen what a pushover I am around Lola.”

  He wasn’t accustomed to women who owned their shortcomings. He found himself smiling at Miranda in acknowledgment. “That’s something you’re going to have to overcome when you have kids.”

  He’d just said when, not if, Miranda noted. Was that just a careless slip of the tongue on his part, or did Colin really see her as a mother?

  She rather liked the idea that he did. Of course, that would have to mean she’d have to slow down long enough to actually have a child.