Make-Believe Mistletoe

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. “Merry 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 ugly, 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.

Oh, hell. Who was he to resist mistletoe-even the make-believe kind?

He dragged her against him and closed his mouth over hers, tasting the smile that had been taunting and tempting him.

Had her mouth not been otherwise occupied, Lucy might have been tempted to sigh with relief. She had been so sure that Banner didn't really want to send her away, but she knew the mutual attraction that had developed so quickly between them made him very nervous.

She couldn't blame him; she'd felt the same way initially. But then, Lucy had always been the type to make up her mind quickly. Banner, apparently, took a bit more persuasion.

And this kiss, she thought, sliding her hands up to lock behind his neck, was a heck of an argument in her favor.

His arms were around her now, and the strength she felt in those woodworker's muscles thrilled her. It would take no effort at all for him to literally sweep her off her feet. He'd already done so figuratively, and as far as she could tell, he had made no effort at all.

He lifted his head just far enough to break the kiss, though he didn't drop his arms. “Why aren't you on your way to Springfield?”

Her hands still clasped behind his neck, she allowed her fingertips to play with the back of his hair. It was lushly thick and surprisingly soft and she would have liked to dive into it with both hands-but that could wait. “I will be. Eventually. But I'm not quite ready to go yet.”

“If you're staying because of me…”

“Well, I'm not staying to spend more time with your dog-no offense, Hulk.”

The dog snuffled a lazy acknowledgment, making her smile before she turned her attention back to Banner.

He was frowning at her, though she noted that he still held her quite closely. “You should think about what I said-about how the last few hours haven't exactly been normal circumstances.”

“Yes, I know. You're worried that I've been so dazzled by your suave charms that I've succumbed to a fleeting infatuation.”

He had the grace to color a bit in response to her wry comments about his awkward insinuations. “Okay, I'm aware that I'm not exactly the social type, but I did make more of an effort than usual these past couple of days.”

“Why?”

Her simple question seemed to confuse him. “Why? I don't know. Because it's Christmas, I guess. The kids…and Miss Annie…it just seemed like the thing to do.”

“You were extremely kind to the children and Miss Annie. And to the rest of us, for that matter. Sharing your home and your hospitality, giving up your bed and letting us decorate your living room…you turned a terribly timed ice storm into a pleasant holiday interlude.”

Frowning fiercely, he shook his head, finally letting his arms drop from around her. He took a step backward, moving away from her touch as he spoke flatly. “That's exactly what I mean. I didn't really do anything except open the door. You were the one who came up with the ideas to entertain the kids and keep everyone else busy and content. I'm not a particularly kind person. In fact, I've been accused of being rude and boring and antisocial.”

Now she was the one who frowned, hearing undertones of old pain in his voice. “Who would say such things about you?”

“My family,” he said with a grim shrug. “And my ex-wife had a few extra adjectives to apply to me, but none I'm comfortable repeating in mixed company.”

Ex-wife. That revelation made her blink a couple of times, but it was the mention of his family that twisted her heart. He tried so hard to pretend it was his own choice to distance himself from his parents and half siblings, but she suspected the distance hurt him-maybe because no one else ever bothered to try to bridge it.

“Has it occurred to you that maybe I see you more clearly than you think I do?” she asked him gently.

That possibility seemed to scare him worse than his theory that she was overromanticizing him. “I, uh-”

He didn't seem to know what else to say.

Banner had been kicked around so much he'd learned to expect nothing better, Lucy decided. His ex-wife had obviously been all wrong for him. Maybe it was his experience with her that made him worry that Lucy was trying to turn him into something he couldn't and didn't want to be.

He had lost confidence in his ability to form relationships with other people-and it was going to take patience and understanding on Lucy's part to convince him there was a chance that something special had developed between them during the past two days. Something that might last a lifetime, if they gave it a chance.

Just as Lucy didn't take long to make up her mind about someone, she saw no need to waste time once she had. “I'd like a chance to get to know the real you, Banner, if you're interested in getting to know the real me. Because, you see, I've been using 'company manners' myself the past couple of days. I'm not really perky and cheerful all the time. Sometimes I'm downright surly.”

That brought a reluctant smile to his lips. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Trust me. Or better yet, ask some of my students. They'll tell you that I can be a pain when I'm in a rotten mood.”

His smile died. “Since the chances are slim that I'll meet any of your higher math students, I doubt that opportunity will ever arise.”

It still seemed to bother him that she was a math professor. Though she didn't quite understand that little hang-up, she figured she would find out the reason eventually. She would deal with it then. If he let her get that far.

She thought she had made it clear enough that she would like to stay a while longer. She had done everything short of tackling him, actually-and she wasn't entirely opposed to that measure, if necessary.

If Lucy had been the shy type who wasn't willing to go after what she wanted, she wouldn't have gotten as far as she had in her career this soon. But she would give him a little more time to make a move toward her first, she thought with a secret smile.

She didn't consider that she was being arrogant. Their last kiss had left little doubt that Banner wanted her.

There was an honesty in his kisses that reflected the innate frankness of the man himself. He wasn't a game player, and he had no patience for the type of insincere flattery other men might use for seduction. He was simply Banner, and to Lucy that fact alone was more captivating than any other man's flowery words had ever been.

This was certainly the first time she had thought about a lasting relationship within forty-eight hours of meeting anyone.

Yet there was still that battle-scarred skittishness to contend with. “Why don't you offer me a cup of tea?” she suggested casually.

The abrupt change of subject seemed to take him aback. “Um, you want some tea?”

“Thank you, I would love some,” she said promptly, as if he were offering rather than merely parroting. More than the tea, she wanted him to relax and stop worrying about what she might expect from him.

At the moment, she wanted nothing more than she had said-a chance to get to know him better. And the best way to get started seemed to be over tea and conversation.

If that didn't work, well, there was always the option of pouncing on him.

The kitchen table seemed bigger somehow with only Banner and Lucy sitting at it. The room itself was notably quiet without the chatter of the departed guests.

Banner was intensely aware of the silence, and self-conscious about his ability to fill it with anything interesting. His ex-wife had expressed her doubts that he would ever develop conversational skills. She had told him once that talking to him had been like trying to carry on a conversation with a block of the wood he worked with.

That had been toward the end of their brief marriage, when she had criticized everything about him, from his lack of ambition to his disinterest in social activities to his thoughtlessness about her happiness. She had taken off not long afterward, and last he'd heard she'd found herself a dirt-track race car driver who liked to party when he wasn't risking his neck at more than a hundred miles an hour. In other words, she had chosen someone who was exactly Banner's opposite-the opposite of the settled, dependable security she had once claimed to want. From all accounts she was much happier now, and so was he, for that matter.

He didn't want to make any more stupid mistakes that would result in anyone else being hurt-himself included.

Lucy seemed perfectly content to sip her tea and wait for him to speak when he was ready, which surprised him since she had claimed a tendency to babble when she was nervous. He supposed she wasn't nervous now, which made him wonder why he was.

He racked his brain for something to say. “So, um, how's your tea?”

She smiled over her cup. “It's delicious, thank you.”

His gaze lingered on her moist, up-curved mouth. And his mind went blank again. Every time Lucy smiled at him, every time she licked a drop of tea from her lips or tossed back her cascade of soft red-gold curls, he went completely tongue-tied.

It was a condition that was familiar to him, since he had never been comfortable making small talk-which made him one lousy date, as he had been informed on a few memorable occasions. But it was even worse with Lucy, because with her-as with no one before her-he actually wanted to be witty and charming and interesting. It was precisely because he couldn't be any of those things that he should be urging her to leave, to join the family that was waiting so impatiently to spend the rest of this Christmas day with her.

He was generally a selfish person, but not even he could feel right about keeping her from that loving family when he couldn't even seem to carry on a conversation with her.

Seeming to sense that he was at a conversational loss, Lucy spoke up. He should have expected her to say something completely unexpected, and she did. “Let's play a game.”

“A game?” he repeated somewhat blankly. “Like what?”

“Twenty questions. Only I'm making a few new rules.”

He felt decidedly wary when he asked, “What new rules?”

“I can ask twenty questions about you, and you can ask twenty questions about me. And no matter what you're asked, you have to answer honestly.”

“And the point of this would be…?”

“It's a very efficient way of getting to know each other. That's one of our goals, isn't it? Exploring the attraction between us? Assessing the potential for more?”

She made it sound as logical and prosaic as if they were considering a financial investment. Must be the math professor in her. Not that he wanted her to start waxing poetic on him, of course. He had already decided that he should be convincing her how incompatible they would be in a long-term relationship-his fault, of course, since there was certainly nothing lacking in Lucy.

Maybe a few blunt answers to her questions would make the futility of any romantic expectations clear to her. Labeling it a game seemed an odd way to determine their fate, but he had learned not to be overly surprised by anything Lucy suggested.