Beneath the Mistletoe: Make-Believe Mistletoe / Christmas Bonus, Strings Attached

“I like carrot cake,” Tricia told him eagerly. “Can I have the little frosting carrot on the top?”

“Tricia,” her long-suffering mother admonished. “Take what you are served.”

Bobby Ray was chuckling again, Lucy noted in satisfaction. He seemed quite taken with the kids, which boded well for Lucy’s matchmaking scheme.

If only there was someone as interesting to go on her prospect list, she thought with a silent sigh. And then found her eyes turning to Banner again as he served a slice of carrot cake topped with a bright orange frosting carrot to little Tricia.

Chapter Six

As promised, Bobby Ray played his guitar again after dinner. Miss Annie was back in the rocker and Pop was in the big recliner now. Bobby Ray sat on one end of the couch with Joan at the other end. The children and the dog were on the floor in front of the fire.

Lucy sat in the striped wing chair. She’d half expected Banner to pull his dining room chair close to her side, as he had before, but instead he’d placed it just inside the doorway, where he could watch without really being a part of the group.

She tried a time or two to catch his eye, to share a smile, but he seemed to avoid looking at her. Or was she simply imagining that? She couldn’t think of anything she might have done to annoy him.

The evening passed slowly, but pleasantly. Pop sang for them again, urging the children to join him. Miss Annie asked if anyone would like to hear her read the Christmas story from her battered, well-used Bible. “I used to read it every Christmas Eve for my children,” she added with a nostalgic sigh. “I would’ve read it for my great-grandchildren tonight.”

Everyone, of course, assured her that they would be delighted to have her read to them. She held the Bible close to her faded eyes, and her hands shook a bit, but her voice was strong as she began, “And it came to pass…”

Lucy had a lump in her throat by the time the elderly woman finished the reading. She saw Joan surreptitiously wipe a tear. Even the children had been spellbound. Bobby Ray cleared his throat, and Pop leaned over to kiss his wife’s cheek, which only made the lump in Lucy’s throat grow bigger.

From her sprawled position on the floor, Tricia sighed. “That was pretty, Miss Annie.”

“Thank you, sugar pie.”

“Do you have a book with ‘The Night Before Christmas’ in it? My grandmother promised to read that to me tonight.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have that one.”

The little girl looked disappointed. “We always hear it on Christmas Eve.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tyler muttered. “This isn’t like real Christmas Eve, anyway. We won’t even have Santa Claus tonight.”

Banner shifted in his chair, drawing attention his way. “I could say the poem for you, Tricia, if you want me to,” he added in a mumble.

Tricia sat up straighter. “You have the book?”

“Well…no.”

The child looked confused. “But you said you would read it to me.”

“I said I would recite it for you,” he corrected, and Lucy thought he looked as though he regretted that he had ever spoken at all.

“You have the poem memorized, Banner?” Pop asked encouragingly. “Is that what you mean?”

“Um, yeah. I don’t know that I would win any awards for dramatic recitation, but I have a knack for memorization. I learned that poem when I was just a kid, and it has stayed with me ever since.”

Tricia scooted closer to Banner’s chair, her expression eager. “Say it for us,” she urged. “I want to hear about the reindeer.”

He cleared his throat and glanced somewhat sheepishly toward Lucy, who nodded encouragement at him. And then he began, his voice deep and rich as the words rolled fluently from him. The logs in the fireplace crackled in accompaniment, and Lucy didn’t think she had ever heard a more perfect telling of the beloved poem.

A love of literature was one of the criteria for a man to be placed on her prospect list. How frustrating that Banner met so many of her requirements— “jolly” being a notable exception—yet still set off every emotional alarm she possessed.

“‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night,”’ he finished, causing Tricia to break into delighted applause.

“Well now, I’ve played guitar, Pop sang for us, Miss Annie read from the Bible and Banner’s quoted poetry,” Bobby Ray said. “Lucy, do you or Joan want to entertain us now?”

Joan blushed. “I’m afraid I don’t have any talents.”

“Sure you do, Mama,” Tyler argued. “You sing all the time at home, and Grandma said you could have been a real music star.”

Joan blushed even more brightly. “My mother tends to exaggerate.”

“Sing for us, Mama,” Tricia urged. “Bobby Ray can play guitar for you, won’t you, Bobby Ray?”

“I would be delighted.” Bobby Ray cocked his head toward Joan. “What do you want to sing?”

She sighed, apparently realizing that her children wouldn’t stop pressing her until she gave in. “How about ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’? Maybe that will be a good omen for the roads tomorrow.”

Bobby Ray strummed the opening chords of the song. Lucy was pleased that Joan really did have a lovely voice. Her slight country drawl made Lucy think of Reba McEntire. Joan’s mother might have been right about Joan having a career in music had she chosen to pursue it. Lucy wondered if that was a dream that had been abandoned for Joan’s unfortunate early marriage.

Everyone applauded when Joan finished singing.

“That was lovely,” Miss Annie enthused.

“Very nice,” Pop seconded. “We should try a duet.”

“I agree with your mother,” Bobby Ray said. “You have a beautiful voice, Joan.”

Joan’s eyes glowed in the firelight, showing her pleasure with the compliments. “Thank you. But that’s enough, please.”

Bobby Ray turned to Lucy with a mischievous grin. “Well, Miss Lucy? What are you going to do for us?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t suppose you would be interested in hearing some advanced math calculations?”

“Not hardly. Why don’t you sing us a song?”

She laughed. “Trust me, you would rather hear Hulk sing than me.”

Tricia scooted closer to Lucy’s chair. “What can you do, Lucy? Besides math, I mean?”

“I play a little piano, but we don’t have one of those available. It isn’t exactly a portable instrument like Bobby Ray’s guitar.”

“What else?” Tricia seemed confident that Lucy had talents she hadn’t yet revealed.

“I can wiggle my ears,” Tyler announced, and proceeded to do so.

Tricia sighed. “We’re talking about Lucy, not you.”

Lucy turned to Banner. “Do you have a deck of cards?”

He stood, reached into a cabinet beneath a built-in bookcase beside the fireplace and produced a card deck that he tossed to her.

“You do card tricks?” Tyler asked, moving closer on his knees, and making Lucy wonder how many pairs of jeans he had worn out that way.

“I read minds,” she corrected him.

The boy snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“I suppose I’ll have to prove it.” She shuffled the cards, then fanned them in front of him. “Pick a card.”

Keeping his eyes suspiciously locked with hers, Tyler slid a card out of the middle of the deck. He looked at it quickly, then held it pressed against his chest. “You didn’t see it, did you?” he asked.

“No. I’ll close my eyes while you place the card back in the deck.” She made a production of squeezing her eyes tightly shut, laughing when Tricia placed a soft little hand over her face, just to make sure there was no cheating.

After Tyler had replaced the card in the deck, Lucy dramatically hummed and swayed, keeping her eyes locked with his while she slowly shuffled the cards in her hands. And then she pretended to psychically receive inspiration.

“Voilà,” she said, sweeping a card in an arc and then turning it toward Tyler. “You drew the three of clubs, didn’t you?”

His eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“She read your mind,” Tricia said in exasperation. “Weren’t you listening, dopey-head?”

Tyler reached out to give his sister a push. “It was a trick, stupid.”

“I’m not stupid! Mama, he pushed me.”

“Did not.”

“Did, too. Everyone saw you.”

“You know, I would have sworn I heard jingle bells outside a minute ago,” Pop murmured to his wife, making sure the children heard him.

Tricia perked up. “You did?” she asked, forgetting the quarrel.

“Could’ve been the wind,” he answered. “But you never know on Christmas Eve.”

Tricia ran to the window to look out into the cold darkness. Tyler sighed gustily. “Santa doesn’t know we’re here, remember?”

Bobby Ray shook his head. “Oh, I don’t know. Santa’s a pretty smart guy.”

“That’s right,” Pop agreed. “Remember the song?”

He launched into the opening of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” urging the others to join in. Despite her warning to the others about the quality of her singing, Lucy sang along. She wasn’t really awful, she figured—just not solo quality. She noticed that Banner even sang a few lines, though so softly she couldn’t hear if he could carry a tune or not.

She knew he had planned to spend this evening alone with his dog, but she suspected that he wasn’t particularly sorry his plans had changed.

After another couple of songs, Joan announced that it was time for her children to brush their teeth and get ready for bed. Carrying flashlights to guide their way, they told everyone good-night and headed out of the room.

Tricia paused in the doorway, turning to say in her clear little voice, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.” And then she giggled and turned to run after her family.

“Isn’t she a precious little thing?” Miss Annie murmured.

“She is a cutie.” Pop turned back to Lucy. “Let me see that card trick again. I don’t think I watched closely enough the first time. Didn’t see how you managed it.”

“Watch as closely as you like. You won’t see how I do it this time, either,” she bragged, shuffling the deck as she walked toward his chair.

“I want to see this, too.” Bobby Ray walked over to stand behind Pop’s chair, his gaze focused on Lucy’s hands.

By the time she had performed the trick twice for Pop and once for Bobby Ray, the men had to concede that they had no idea how Lucy knew which card they had chosen each time.

“I read your mind,” she teased, quoting Tricia. “Weren’t you listening, dopey-heads?”

Everyone laughed—except Banner, who stood and turned toward the kitchen. “I think I’ll go out to the workshop and bring some things onto the back porch.”

Lucy knew he meant the children’s gifts. They would be easily accessible on the back porch once they knew the children were sound asleep. “I’ll help you,” she said, laying the deck of cards on a table.

“You need me to come with you?” Bobby Ray asked.

“No, we can handle it,” Banner replied, already on his way.

Bobby Ray picked up the cards and looked at Pop. “Want to join me in a game of candlelight gin rummy?”

“I believe I will,” the older man said, scooting his chair closer to the coffee table.

Miss Annie’s knitting needles were already clicking again when Lucy left the cozy room in Banner’s wake.

Lucy had donned her coat and cap, but she still shivered when she stepped outside. She knew the temperature was only in the low thirties, but it felt colder. It was pitch-dark outside without the security lamps, and she had to aim her flashlight carefully to guide her steps.

“You okay?” Banner asked over his shoulder.

“Just lead the way.”

It was dark in the workshop, of course, but a little warmer than it was outside, since there was still some heat radiating from the woodstove. Banner turned his flashlight to one side of the door, where he had left the children’s gifts. “There they are. You grab one bag, and I’ll take the other. I’ll come back for whatever is left over.”

“This is sort of fun, isn’t it? I’ve never done the Santa Claus thing before.”

She didn’t know how to interpret the grunt he gave her in reply.

She tried again to draw him into a conversation. “I think everyone had a lovely Christmas Eve. The children seemed happy when they went off to bed.”

Banner hefted bags, choosing the lightest one to hand to Lucy. “I think they were kept entertained.”

“I was really impressed by the way you recited the poem. I’ve tried to memorize it a couple of times, but I can never remember all the reindeer names.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t do card tricks. Or advanced math calculations.”

Something in his tone made her frown. Did it bother him that she was a mathematics professor? She had met a few guys who were intimidated by her degree, but she wouldn’t have thought Banner was the type. He seemed to have plenty of self-confidence, but she didn’t doubt that he was a master at hiding any insecurities he might have.

It seemed the more time she spent with him, the more questions she had about him.

She wished she knew exactly why he had become so reticent. She missed the camaraderie she had shared with him earlier, what little there had been. But he seemed to have started drawing back even before the discussion about careers.

Had her growing attraction to him been so obvious? Was he pulling back because he didn’t want to risk sending the wrong signals—didn’t want her to think he was interested in her, too?

To be honest, that was exactly what she had started to believe. She thought there had been a spark between them—not necessarily suitable, but genuine. Maybe she had been mistaken. Or maybe she hadn’t, and he was simply being sensible in applying the brakes to an attraction that probably wouldn’t lead anywhere.

He opened the workshop door again, motioning with his flashlight for her to precede him so he could close the door behind them. “Watch your step.”

It wasn’t easy manipulating the big bag of gifts and the flashlight. Though she tried to be careful, Lucy found herself slipping once or twice on the path back to the house. Since Banner’s hands were also full, there wasn’t much he could do to help her, but he stayed close just in case. She was relieved to make it to the porch with both the gifts and herself in one piece. Banner set his load down beside the door, and she placed hers beside it.

He immediately turned to walk back down the steps. “I’ll get the rest of the stuff.”

Remembering the size of the cradle and the wooden truck and trailer rig, Lucy took a step after him. “I’ll help you.”

“That’s not necessary,” he said without looking back.

“No, really.” She moved a bit faster, the beam from her flashlight swinging in front of her. “I can carry the cradle for you.”

He half turned to face her. “Go back inside where it’s warm. I can—”

There must have been an icy patch beneath his foot. Or perhaps it was mud. Whatever, it was slippery—and Banner’s foot shot out from beneath him, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance.

Lucy threw herself at him, bracing him until he regained his footing. His arm went around her waist, probably an instinctive move.

After a moment Lucy asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just slipped.”

She noted that he didn’t immediately move his arm. Had the temperature risen or was it the fact that she was pressed so snugly against him that made her feel so warm? As if she didn’t know. Nor was she in any hurry to move away.

She looked up at him. Their flashlights were pointed downward, so she couldn’t really see his face. The moon gave enough illumination to show a gleam in his eyes as he gazed back down at her. And still he didn’t move.

“Um, Banner?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounded gruff.

“What are you doing?’

“Just wondering if you really do read minds—or if it was only a card trick,” he murmured.

Caught off guard, she asked blankly, “Why?”

“Because if you read minds, you would know that I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you showed up on my doorstep.”

“Do wha—”

His lips were on hers before she could complete the syllable.

The kiss didn’t last very long, barely long enough for her to note the details of the way his lips tasted, the way they felt and moved against hers. Yet she knew those details were being filed away inside her mind and that she would replay this kiss countless times in her head. Just as she knew that when the kiss ended, she would no longer be able to pretend that she was only casually interested in Banner.

She could no longer ignore the fact that his name had slipped to the top of her prospect list.

Who was she kidding? His name was the only one on her list now, even if he didn’t fit all the criteria she had once believed a man must have to be a suitable match for her.

In just over twenty-four hours, Banner had gone from total stranger to someone she wanted very much to get to know better.

Brief, but powerful—that was the way she would have described the kiss if pressed. Banner lifted his head but didn’t immediately step away, his face still close enough to hers that their breath formed a single frosty cloud between them. She cleared her throat.

“No,” she said, “I definitely did not know that was on your mind.”

“So it was a card trick.”

“Yeah. Just a trick.”

He dropped his arm and moved away, being very careful with his footing this time. “And that,” he said, “was just a kiss.”

She frowned. “Which means…?”

“Nothing.” He turned toward his workshop. “It meant nothing.”

“Banner, wait a minute—”

“I’ll get the rest of the gifts. You’d better go back inside before you freeze.”

He didn’t wait around for whatever she might have said in response.

Banner remembered his earlier suspicions that bad milk was making him behave strangely. Now he figured it had to be something much stronger affecting his behavior. What on earth had possessed him to kiss Lucy Guerin?

Sure, she was pretty, in her elfish sort of way. And, yeah, she had the most kissable lips he had ever encountered. And, okay, he liked being with her, enjoyed her unpredictability. But as for doing anything about any of that…no way.

She was a mathematics professor, for crying out loud. Even if they had anything else in common, that was enough to convince him he should stay well away from her. He could hear his father laugh at the very thought of Banner hooking up with a college professor.

Hell, Banner’s father didn’t think there was any woman alive who could put up with Banner for very long. “You’re just like my uncle Joe,” Richard Banner had said on more occasions than Banner could remember. “He never could find anyone willing to take him on, either.”

Banner had always wondered if he had married Katrina mostly to prove his father wrong about that. If so, it had been a futile effort. The marriage had been over almost as soon as it had begun.

After that disaster he’d thought maybe his father had been right, after all. Maybe Banner was too much like his reclusive, somewhat eccentric great-uncle.

Joe had never had time for social games and hadn’t known how to play them if he had wanted to. Like Banner, Joe had liked other people, but he had never known quite how to behave around them. He had confessed to Banner that he’d always felt as if he was on the outside looking in at other people’s interactions. Banner had identified strongly with that sentiment, since it was exactly the way he had always felt in his own family—or rather, families.

He had sure as hell never fit in with extremely extroverted, highly educated, compulsively inquisitive women like Lucy Guerin.

Even if he and Lucy had been getting along surprisingly well so far, they had only spent a day together. He had no doubt that she would get sick of him soon enough. Katrina sure had, and she had professed to love him. Probably the biggest problem between them had been that he simply hadn’t been capable of loving her in return.

He should never have kissed Lucy. He certainly didn’t want to give her the mistaken impression that he had anything to offer her—even if for some incomprehensible reason she would be interested.

He couldn’t say he entirely regretted it, though. Kissing Lucy had most definitely been a memorable experience.

The children were sound asleep when the presents were arranged beneath the tree. Joan was delighted with Banner’s handmade toys, assuring him that the children would love them. Bobby Ray and Pop both seemed thoroughly impressed with the truck-and-tractor rig, and Lucy was amused by how long Bobby Ray played with the backhoe.

After seeing the cradle, Miss Annie sent her husband to their borrowed bedroom to fetch her knitting bag. She pulled out a lap-size afghan crafted from a soft, cream-colored yarn and finished with fringed ends. “Put this in the cradle,” she ordered. “It’s just the right size for Tricia to tuck her dolls into.”

“Miss Annie, that’s lovely,” Joan said, visibly touched. “But I can’t—”

“It’s not for you, it’s for Tricia,” the older woman interrupted indulgently. “And don’t worry about me not having plenty more. Knitting is about all I can do these days without wearing myself plumb out.”

The afghan added the perfect touch to the charming little cradle. The women all admired it while the men continued to study the intricately detailed truck rig. And then Miss Annie reached into her bag again, pulling out a thick, warm gray knit cap. “Do you think Tyler would like this? I make them for my great-grandsons, and I always have a couple of extras around.”

“He would love it, if you’re sure it’s an extra.” Joan’s voice was thick now, as if she were speaking around a lump in her throat.

Lucy had her own gifts to contribute to the cause. She had brought a shopping bag in from her car a little earlier and had set it in a corner behind the couch. She reached into it now, pulling out a handful of paperback children’s books.

“I buy these on sale all year and take them to my cousins’ children. I’m known as Aunt Lucy the book lady—I just love books. Please pick a couple you think Tyler and Tricia would like.”

“I’ve got a little something for them, too,” Bobby Ray said, looking thoughtful. “I’ll give it to them in the morning.”

Joan’s eyes were wet now, her voice even thicker. “You’re all being so kind.”

After sharing a smile with Miss Annie, Lucy replied, “You’re giving us a chance to enjoy Christmas through the eyes of children. That always makes the holiday more special.”

Joan wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “Thank you. All of you. This could have been a miserable Christmas Eve, stranded away from our families, but it has been lovely.”

“Well, I, for one, am ready to call it a day,” Miss Annie said, putting her knitting bag aside.

Bobby Ray moved immediately to assist her out of her chair and escort her to the master bedroom, with Pop tagging behind. A chorus of good-nights followed them.

“I think I’ll turn in, too,” Joan said. “It’s been a long day, and I’m sure the kids will be up early in the morning.”

Thanking them again, she headed for the guest room where her children were sleeping.

Lucy turned toward Banner, looking at him through her eyelashes, that kiss still haunting her memories. “So…” she began.

He turned away. “I need to let the dog out. C’mon, Hulk.”

The agreeable mutt pushed himself upright and strolled out of the room at Banner’s heels.

Banner, Lucy decided, was obviously regretting the impulsive kiss. As for herself, she had thought it was pretty spectacular, considering its brevity.

She could only imagine how amazing it would be if he really put some time and effort into it.

“Lucy?” Bobby Ray’s voice sounded panicky when he appeared in the living room doorway. “You’d better come quick. Something’s wrong with Miss Annie.”

Chapter Seven

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