Make-Believe Mistletoe

Chapter Seven

Lucy rushed toward Bobby Ray. “What do you mean? What's wrong with Miss Annie?”

“I was telling her good night and she just sort of collapsed. I caught her and helped her onto the bed, but it scared the stuffing out of me.”

Lucy followed him to the master bedroom, where Miss Annie lay against the pillows of the bed while her husband hovered close by. “Miss Annie? Are you okay? Pop, should we call an ambulance? Surely some sort of emergency vehicle can get to us here, even with all the ice on the roads.”

Miss Annie shook her head against the pillows. Her voice was weak, but determined. “That's not necessary, dear. I just had one of my spells.”

Not particularly reassured by the comment, Lucy looked at Pop. “She's done this before?”

He looked concerned, but there was no panic in his grave expression. “Every so often. She takes medication, but sometimes she gets dizzy, anyway. There's really no need to call an ambulance tonight.”

Stepping to the side of the bed, Lucy looked down at the older woman. “Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Annie?”

The older woman looked slightly embarrassed at having caused a fuss. “No, thank you. I'll be fine after a good night's sleep.”

Looking to Pop for confirmation, Lucy hesitated in indecision about what to do. He nodded to let her know everything would be all right. “We'll both be fine,” he said. “Just need some rest. It's been quite a day, hasn't it, Mother?”

“Good night, then,” Lucy said a bit uncertainly, still worried about leaving them alone.

Pop escorted her and Bobby Ray to the hallway. “Good night. See you both in the morning.”

He closed the door firmly in their faces.

“Well,” Bobby Ray said as he and Lucy walked back into the living room, “I guess Pop would be more worried if there was anything seriously wrong.”

“I'm sure you're right.” Lucy wished she felt more confident about that. Miss Annie had looked so frail and tired lying there against Banner's pillows.

Sensing Lucy's anxiety, Bobby Ray threw a meaty arm around her shoulders and gave her a bracing squeeze that nearly emptied her lungs of air. “Don't you worry, Lucy, we'll take good care of Miss Annie while she's here.”

She smiled up at him. “I know. She's become very dear to me in the past few hours.”

“She's a dear lady,” he agreed. “Funny how we've all gotten to know each other so well in such a short time, isn't it?”

“I would like to think we've become friends,” she replied. “And speaking of which…”

Banner's dog nosed between them, as if to participate in a group hug. His shaggy tail thumped roughly against Lucy's hip. She laughed as his cold nose burrowed into the hem of her waist-length sweatshirt, touching the sensitive skin beneath.

Stepping away from Bobby Ray, she pushed against the mutt. “Your nose is freezing, you silly dog, and I'm not letting you warm it against me.”

Looking over the dog's head, she spotted Banner standing in the doorway, scowling rather fiercely as he gazed at her and Bobby Ray. “Y'all ready to get some sleep?” he asked, his voice more curt than usual.

“I sure am.” Bobby Ray scratched his beard. “I don't usually turn in this early, but we've stayed busy today.”

“You'll want to sleep on the couch again, Lucy,” Banner said in the same impersonal tone he had used before. “It's too cold in the office.”

Not to mention that it was dark and lonely in the office, Lucy added silently. “The couch will be fine, thank you.”

Lucy and Banner found themselves alone again one more time that evening. Bobby Ray was in the bathroom, taking a quick shower by candlelight. Lucy had already dressed for bed in a pair of navy knit yoga pants with baby-blue piping down the side and a snug-fitting, long-sleeved baby-blue T-shirt. She wore white socks on her feet to keep them warm. While still modest, this outfit would be much more comfortable than the jeans and sweater she had slept in the night before.

Banner had changed into gray sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt. Like Lucy, he wore white sport socks. His dark hair was tousled, and his jaw was stubbled with dark whiskers that did nothing to detract from his brooding good looks. Quite the opposite, actually.

Lucy studied him in silent appreciation as he knelt in front of the fire, feeding logs into the flames, his endearingly ugly dog at his side. The firelight played across Banner's face, highlighting the planes and shadows of his features. It wasn't difficult for her always-active imagination to picture him sitting there without his shirt, that same firelight playing over tanned skin and rippling muscle. The image was clear enough to almost make her salivate.

“You're looking at me,” he said.

Since he hadn't glanced away from the fire, she wasn't sure how he had known, but she said agreeably, “Yes, I am. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“A little.”

“Sorry, but since the television isn't working…”

He didn't smile at her quip. “I've done all the tricks I know. Unless you want to hear 'The Charge of the Light Brigade.”'

“No, that isn't necessary, thank you.” His wry comments always amused her, whether he intended them to or not.

“I suppose you could always pull a coin out of my ear.”

“I don't do coin tricks. Only card tricks. And, to be honest, I only know the one.”

“I see.” Poking one last time at the fire, he pulled the screen back into place and brushed off his hands.

“Tricia and Tyler are going to be so excited to see all those gifts under the tree. Are you sure you won't put on a Santa suit?”

“Only if you put on a bikini.”

That made her raise her eyebrows. “What?”

“Hey, you have your kinky fantasies, I can have mine.”

She was still laughing when Bobby Ray ambled into the room. He looked from Lucy to Banner in surprise. “You in here telling jokes, Banner?”

“Just talking nonsense. Ready for me to put out the lights?”

Lucy lay down on the couch and pulled the blankets to her chin.

“Good night, Banner. Good night, Bobby Ray.”

Bobby Ray settled into the recliner with the now-familiar creak of springs. “G'night, Miss Lucy. Don't you be running off with Santa Claus during the night now, y'hear?”

Lucy looked automatically at Banner, who was looking back at her with that not-quite-smile of his. “Good night,” he said, then turned off the lantern and blew out the candles.

It occurred to Lucy as she nestled into the blankets that Banner had spread out his sleeping bag close to the foot of the tree, not far from the presents piled there. A good-looking, but probably unattainable, bachelor under the Christmas tree.

She sighed wistfully, thinking that Santa definitely had a warped sense of humor where she was concerned.

Lucy must have been more tired than she had realized. Not even Bobby Ray's snoring disturbed her sleep that night. She didn't awaken until a high-pitched shriek penetrated her slightly salacious dream about Banner in the firelight beneath the Christmas tree-without the sweat suit.

Jerking upright, she blinked and pushed a tangle of red curls out of her eyes. Her heart was racing, but she wasn't sure if that was due to her abrupt awakening or the aftereffects of her dream.

Illuminated by the firelight and the early sunlight streaming through the living room windows, Tricia stood in the doorway, staring at the presents piled beneath the Christmas tree. “He was here,” the little girl said in stunned disbelief. “Santa Claus found us.”

Bobby Ray made a production of knuckling his eyes and staring at the tree. “Well, I'll be. Where did all them gifts come from?”

“Santa Claus brought them,” Tricia said, hopping up and down. “He found us! Tyler, come look! Santa found us!”

Her brother and mother, both still groggy from sleep, appeared in the doorway behind her, Joan looking apologetically at Lucy, Bobby Ray and Banner for waking them so early.

Banner had climbed out of his sleeping bag and was moving it out of the way to clear a path for Tricia and Tyler to reach their gifts. Lucy couldn't even look at him without blushing as she remembered that dream.

“Sweet,” Tyler breathed, moving slowly toward the piles of packages. “Presents. Are they really for us?”

“Looks like it,” Bobby Ray said, lowering the footrest on the recliner and tossing his blanket aside. “Don't just stand there, kiddos. Dive in.”

“Wait a second. Don't touch a thing.” Joan disappeared back into the bedroom, then returned carrying a small camera. “Okay, now we're ready.”

Tricia dropped to her knees in front of the pile of wrapped presents. “These have my name on them. See, it says 'To Tricia, from Santa Claus,”' she read, pointing out the words with pride.

“These are mine.” Tyler gazed at his gifts almost as if he was afraid they would disappear if he looked away.

Joan sat cross-legged on the floor with her camera. Roused by the noise, Miss Annie and Pop entered the room, looking eager to watch the children open their presents. Bobby Ray jumped up immediately to assist the older couple, who greeted everyone with a warm “Merry Christmas.”

Lucy was relieved that Miss Annie seemed much stronger this morning. Pop and Bobby Ray escorted her to the rocker, tucked a blanket around her, set her walker within easy reach, then settled down to observe the festivities.

Banner had left the room after stowing his sleeping bag. The scent of perking coffee drifted from the kitchen, explaining his absence. Lucy thought of going in to help him, but she was reluctant to leave the room yet. She simply loved watching children on Christmas morning.

She couldn't wait until she had children of her own with whom to share such special occasions.

Finally given the signal by their mother, Tyler and Tricia tore into their presents. They oohed and aahed over video games and dolls, die-cast cars and board games, a football for Tyler and a soccer ball for Tricia. Every time they opened a gift, they turned to display it for their smiling audience, who all made appreciative noises over each item.

Lucy noted with interest that Joan hadn't spent a great deal of money, but had provided a nice variety of toys designed to last awhile. Tyler seemed particularly pleased with his football and a kid-size helmet painted to resemble the ones for the St. Louis Rams. Tricia had obviously fallen instantly in love with a life-size newborn-baby doll that came with several adorable outfits.

The doll was the perfect size for the cradle Banner had made, which, along with the tractor rig, was waiting at the back of the tree, not yet noticed by the children. Lucy couldn't wait until they saw them, but she hoped Banner would return in time to watch.

Banner came back into the room then, carrying a tray crowded with mugs of coffee for the adults and glasses of orange juice for the kids. He set the tray on the coffee table and distributed the mugs. Lucy was impressed when she realized that he had remembered everyone's preference as far as cream and sugar and had prepared each serving accordingly.

Banner might claim to be a surly recluse, but Lucy didn't completely believe him. He had been an ideal host to this group of stranded former strangers. Whether he believed it or not, he had a great deal to offer others-if he chose to make the effort.

He handed her a mug of extralight coffee, no sugar. Just the way she liked it.

“Thank you,” she said, then patted the couch beside her. “Have a seat.”

Hesitating only a moment, he settled on the couch, almost as far as he could get without falling off the other end.

“I really don't bite,” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear her. And then she couldn't resist adding wickedly, “Not in public, anyway.”

He gave her a look over his mug. “Drink your coffee.”

Chuckling, she turned to watch the children again.

“Look at what we got, Banner,” Tricia urged, holding up her doll. “Santa brought us a whole bunch of stuff.”

“I'd say so,” he replied. “You both must have been very good this year.”

“Well…mostly good,” Tricia said with a quick glance at her mother. And then she prudently changed the subject. “Didn't any of you see Santa when he brought these presents in last night? You were all sleeping right here.”

Bobby Ray had excused himself from the room for a few minutes, so the question was addressed to Lucy and Banner. They swapped a brief look, and Banner's expression was amusingly baffled. Lucy got the impression that “let's pretend” was not a game he felt comfortable playing.

She answered for them both. “I don't know about the guys, but I was so tired I didn't hear a thing last night. I'm sure both Santa and the Easter Bunny could have come into the living room and danced a polka across the floor and I never would have stirred.”

Tricia laughed. “The Easter Bunny doesn't come at Christmas. He only comes at Easter.”

“Lucy knows that,” Tyler said, rolling his eyes. “She was just making a joke, weren't you, Lucy?”

Lucy nodded gravely. “Yes. I was making a joke.”

“I wonder why Hulk didn't bark when Santa came in?” Tricia mused, still preoccupied with the logistics of Santa's visit.

“Hulk's not much of a guard dog,” Banner explained with a resigned shrug. “He tends to accept all newcomers with a yawn and a wag of his tail. I guess Santa and the Easter Bunny could have stolen all the silver and Hulk would have opened the door for them to carry it out.”

As if he knew he was the topic of conversation, the dog made a snuffly sound and laid his head on Banner's knee. Everyone laughed, both at the dog's actions and Banner's attempt at embroidering on Lucy's imagery.

Bobby Ray came back into the room then, and from the ruddy flush on his face it was obvious that he had been outside. Lucy remembered his comment that he had something in his truck for the children, and she assumed he had been out to get it. He had one hand behind his back, so she couldn't see what he was holding.

“It's already warming up out there,” he announced. “Bet those roads are clear by noon.”

“That's good news,” Joan said, and then turned back to the tree. “Kids, you have a few more gifts back here.”

“More?” Tricia perked up in interest. “Santa left us more presents?”

“These aren't from Santa.” Her mother pulled out the cradle and tractor rig. “Tricia, Banner made this beautiful cradle, and Miss Annie knit the pretty blanket inside it. And Tyler, Banner made this truck and trailor and the backhoe on it, and Miss Annie made this nice warm cap that is just your size. Wasn't it nice of them to give you these lovely things?”

Tyler pounced on the large wooden rig, his eyes huge and excited. “Oh, wow. This is so sweet,” he said, using his favorite adjective. “It looks just like those big machines that have been building the new gas station down our street. You made this, Banner? Really? What does this scooper thing do? Why's it got bucket things on both ends?”

Banner set his mug on the coffee table and moved to kneel beside the boy. “This is a backhoe. It digs, or trenches, with this end. And this other end is a front-end loader that can be used for moving or scraping dirt. See, you use these levers to raise and lower the…”

Ignoring the guys, Tricia had already put her doll to bed in the cradle and was rocking it gently. “She's sleepy,” she told her mother. And then she smiled sweetly at the others. “I'm going to name my doll Annie Lucy. Is that okay?”

Both Lucy and Miss Annie solemnly agreed that they were honored to have such an adorable namesake.

When the children had finished admiring those gifts and had politely thanked Banner and Miss Annie, Joan pulled out the books Lucy had contributed. At Lucy's urging, Joan had selected two books for each child, and they seemed very pleased with her choices. They thanked Lucy without being prompted, so sweetly that she was touched-and very glad she'd had the bag of books in her car.

“I've got something for you, too, kiddos,” Bobby Ray said. He brought his left hand around from behind him to display two brightly colored and beribboned boxes of Christmas chocolates. “Your mom said it was okay for you to have these.”

“Oh, wow. Candy.” Brown eyes gleaming, Tricia licked her lips in anticipation. “Thank you, Bobby Ray. Can we have some now, Mama?”

“Not for breakfast,” she replied, smiling as she shook her head. “You can have some later.”

“Speaking of breakfast…” Banner rose, leaving Tyler to play with the truck rig on his own. “I'll go get something started. No, stay with your kids,” he added when Joan automatically moved to help. “I can handle it.”

Lucy sprang to her feet. “I'll help.”

“That's not-” Banner abandoned the argument when he saw her expression. Probably because he didn't want to lose an argument in front of the others, Lucy decided. And he would have lost.

Bobby Ray was on the floor playing with Tricia and Tyler and their toys when Lucy followed Banner into the kitchen. “That was fun, wasn't it?” she asked as they headed for the pantry.

Banner shrugged a little, keeping any emotion out of his voice when he replied, “The kids seemed to enjoy it.”

She refused to be discouraged by his lack of enthusiasm. “It really made my Christmas. I loved the look on Tricia's face when she saw the presents under the tree. She was so surprised. And so thrilled.”

“I could have done without the shriek. I nearly jumped right out of my skin.”

Lucy laughed. “She was excited.”

“No kidding. D'you think she would be as excited by instant oatmeal made with boiling water? Because that's about all I've got left for breakfast.”

“I don't know if you'll get a shriek, but I'm sure she'll eat whatever we prepare. Neither Tyler nor Tricia seem to be picky eaters.”

“If there's anyone who doesn't like oatmeal, I've got some canned fruit in the pantry. Maybe they would rather have that.”

“Anything will be fine, Banner. I'm sorry we've emptied your food supplies.”

He shrugged. “That's due more to the power outage. I have plenty of canned goods, but the perishables are running low.”

“The kids love the toys you made,” she said as she began to take bowls out of the cabinet. “They'll treasure them for years, maybe pass them down to their own children.”

“I'm glad they like them. I didn't really have anything else to do with the things.”

She looked at him from beneath her lashes as he started the water to boil and set boxes of instant oatmeal on the counter. “Do you ever picture yourself making toys like that for your own children at Christmas?”

“I don't have any children.”

“I didn't mean now. I mean in the future.”

His characteristic shrug told her nothing about his feelings. “Don't expect to have any. Why don't you get out a couple of cans of fruit?”

She moved slowly to the pantry. “You don't want children?”

“Not particularly.”

“I'd like to have at least two.”

“Figures.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, setting the cans of fruit beside the oatmeal packages.

“Just that it didn't surprise me. Hand me that roll of paper towels, will you?”

“Why doesn't it surprise you that I want children?” And why would it surprise him? Certainly not every woman wanted children, but almost all of Lucy's friends and acquaintances planned to start families at some point in their lives.

“It just confirms my belief that you and I couldn't be more different. The can opener's in the drawer left of the sink.”

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.