Gina Wilkins - Make-Believe Mistletoe

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.

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.