Gina Wilkins - Make-Believe Mistletoe

Hulk padded into the kitchen, moving without hesitation to his empty food bowl, where he stopped to look hopefully at Banner. Banner reached into the pantry to pull out a bag of dry dog food, which he poured into the big stainless steel bowl.

“Your sister called to wish you a merry Christmas?” Lucy asked, looking up from the magazine.

He nodded as he turned to replace the dog food bag in the pantry. “Yeah. She must have been the designated caller from Dad's family.”

“Did I hear you call her Brenda?”

“Right. My father's daughter. The medical student.”

“She probably missed seeing you today.”

“She said she did.”

“Don't you miss seeing her? And your other siblings?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the stainless steel water bowl he was washing and filling with clean water. “I think I've told you before that I'm not really close to my half siblings. Not much in common with them.”

“But you love them, of course. After all, they're your family.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He reminded himself that Lucy couldn't understand what it had been like for him, belonging to two families but not really being a part of either of them.

Sometimes Lucy had a way of looking at him as if she could read his mind. As if she really could understand, after all. And that, too, was a dangerous way for him to think, tempting him to believe they were more alike than they really were. To harbor a faint, foolish hope that, with Lucy at least, he was more than just a misfit.

Turning away from that gaze that looked entirely too perceptive, he set the dog's water bowl next to the food dish. “I'd better call my mother,” he said gruffly. “She'll be annoyed if I don't call her today.”

There was nothing like a chat with his mother to bring him back to harsh reality, he assured himself.

The afternoon wasn't going exactly as Lucy might have hoped. Banner was more distant now than he had been before their latest kiss. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. This seemed to be a classic panicky-male retreat, the behavior of a man who had gotten closer to someone than he had intended.

If she looked at it that way, it was almost a compliment, she mused.

Of course, it was just as likely that Banner regretted what had developed between them and was now trying to think of an excuse to send her on her way as gently as possible.

Because that possibility depressed her, she decided she would stick with the first explanation. She wanted to believe he was starting to care for her, but he was afraid of his feelings. Knowing his family background, and considering his broken marriage, it was an entirely credible possibility, she assured herself.

Lucy still believed Banner belonged at the top of her prospect list. Now it was just a matter of convincing him.

She was sitting in front of the fire, rubbing the dog's ears, when Banner rejoined her after his conversation with his mother. She studied his face from beneath her eyelashes, trying to guess how the call had gone. She found no clue in his expression, which was absolutely emotionless.

He looked at her for a moment, then managed a faint, polite smile that didn't soften his face in the least. “Looks like you've made a friend for life.”

His dog was sprawled beside her, eyes closed in ecstasy as she rubbed the sensitive areas behind his ears. Had he been a cat, he would have been purring. As it was, he gave an occasional groan of pleasure. “He's a very sweet dog. I can see why you love him.”

Banner's smile faded. He shrugged, apparently trying for the appearance of nonchalance. “He's okay-for a dog.”

He wouldn't even admit that he loved his pet, Lucy thought with a ripple of sadness. Would he-or could he-ever admit that he loved anyone else?

Determined to get him talking again, Lucy plugged on. “You spoke to your mother?”

“Yes.”

“She and the rest of your family are well, I hope. Enjoying their holiday.”

“Apparently.”

“I'm sure she appreciated your call.”

“I guess.”

Lucy was getting frustrated-and a bit annoyed. Banner knew how to carry on a conversation. He was just being stubborn.

What, exactly, was he trying to prove?

When he did finally speak, his words weren't exactly encouraging. “You really should get on the road. The pavement could get slippery again when the temperatures drop after dark.”

Giving Hulk one last pat, Lucy rose. “You seem in a hurry to see me off.”

“It isn't that. But I know your family is anxious for you to join them. And you do want to see them, don't you?”

She did, actually. It was Christmas, after all, and Christmas was meant to be spent with family. It had been several months since she had last seen her father, and she knew he was impatient for her to arrive. But it was still harder than she might have imagined to leave Banner.

How could she have imagined two days ago when she'd set off on her drive to her aunt's house that she would fall hard for a stranger on the way? Because whatever this was that had developed between her and Banner, it was much more than a fleeting infatuation, at least on her part.

“Why don't you come with me?” she asked on a sudden rush of inspiration. “I hate to leave you here with no electricity. My family would welcome you. Aunt Janie's a fabulous cook, and my cousins are always fun.”

Banner was shaking his head before she'd even finished speaking. “Thanks, but I'm not much for family gatherings -not even my own family, obviously. Besides, I have work to do here, remember? A full order that I've barely gotten started on.”

She hadn't really expected him to accept, but it had been worth a shot. Torn between going and staying, she pushed a hand through her tumbled curls. “Will we see each other again?”

There was a long pause before Banner said, “You know where I live. Maybe you could stop by and visit sometime on your way to your aunt's house.”

She supposed she should be encouraged that he left an opening for them to continue seeing each other, though it hadn't exactly been a formal invitation. As obvious as it was that he considered them an unlikely pair-and, yes, she had understood exactly what he had tried to tell her during their twenty-questions game-he still couldn't deny the attraction between them.

“Maybe I will,” she said.

He nodded. His expression shuttered. “Fine.”

Pushing her hands into her pockets, she said reluctantly, “Then I guess I'd better get on the road.”

“I'll help you take your things out to the car.”

He could have sounded a little less eager to help, she thought with a frown.

Lucy glanced around the living room as they prepared to step out a few minutes later. “Are you sure you don't want me to help you take down these decorations before I leave?”

“No. I'll do it.”

She gave one last look at the funny little tree, the scattered stars and paper chains. And then, with a tiny sigh, she turned and walked out, promising herself that she would see this room again.

Banner waited until she had tossed her belongings into the back of her car, and then he opened the driver's side door for her. “Drive carefully.”

“I will.”

“Have a nice Christmas with your family.”

“Thank you. For everything, Banner. You've been incredibly generous.”

Her expression of gratitude made him scowl. “Forget it. You'd better go now before it gets dark.”

She bit her lip for a moment, then turned toward the car, growing increasingly depressed by his rush to see her off. “Merry Christmas, Banner.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder, turning her back to face him. “You forgot something.”

She looked up at him expectantly. “What?”

He pointed upward with his other hand.

Following the gesture, she frowned in question, seeing nothing but deepening blue sky above them. “I don't-”

“The mistletoe,” he cut in to remind her. “I believe it has followed us out here.”

The unexpected flight of whimsy made her smile in delight-and remember exactly why she had begun to like him so much. “I believe you're right.”

He kissed her lingeringly, more tenderly than he had before. There was a lot of emotion in this kiss, but she was afraid she also sensed a finality that she didn't want to accept.

Maybe Banner really believed this was goodbye, she thought as she climbed into her car and started the engine. But as far as she was concerned, it was just the beginning for them.

That thought made it a bit easier for her to steer her car out of his driveway and onto the road that led her away from him.

Banner watched Lucy's car until it was out of his sight. Only then did he turn and walk back into his dark, chilly house. Hulk was still sleeping on the rug in front of the fire, and the silence was both absolute and very familiar.

Had it not been for the handmade decorations scattered around his living room, it would have been as if the past couple of days had never happened.

For a moment he stood in the center of the room, picturing Miss Annie in the rocker, Pop and Bobby Ray on the couch, Joan in the wing chair and the children playing on the hearth rug. And Lucy, flitting around the room like the lady of the house, making sure everyone was happy and comfortable. Oddly enough, he had enjoyed most of the interlude with his unexpected guests.

He wondered if he would ever see any of them again. Most specifically, he wondered if he would ever see Lucy again.

Sure, she had said she might stop by again sometime. But he wondered if she would still feel the same way after a few days away from him, back with her family. Once the rosy, romantic glow of their holiday adventure had worn off, she would probably see him more clearly, and perhaps wonder what she had briefly seen in the reclusive, divorced woodworker who couldn't even maintain a close relationship with his own family members.

He shook his head impatiently and moved toward the Christmas tree. Might as well get rid of all this stuff now that everyone was gone. He still had a few packages to open in his bedroom-the usual shirts, books and food gifts from his family. He had mailed his customary gifts to them-Internet-ordered gift certificates for everyone. Easy, efficient, and guaranteed to fit.

Maybe he would warm some apple cider in a little while and drink it in front of the fire, he decided. The perfect Christmas celebration, in his opinion. Just himself and his faithful dog enjoying the peace and quiet together, as he had intended when he had declined his parents' invitations to spend the holidays with them.

When he looked around the room this time, those echo images of his guests were gone. Except for Lucy. Something told him he would be seeing her in his mind for quite some time.

“So tell me about this man who opened his home to a group of stranded travelers,” Janie McDonald urged Lucy late Christmas evening. “What was he like?”

The two women had escaped to Janie's sitting room while Janie's husband and Lucy's father sat in front of the big-screen TV in the den to watch a war-themed DVD one of them had received as a gift. Janie had decorated her room as a feminine retreat, with thick-cushioned love seats and rockers, bookshelves filled with fiction and knickknacks, a small-screened TV and a sizable collection of classic movies.

A big basket beside Janie's favorite chair was stuffed with crocheting supplies for the thick, warm afghans Janie crafted while she watched those films. The multicolored skeins of yarn reminded Lucy of Miss Annie.

But it had been Banner that her aunt had asked about, she reminded herself. How on earth could she describe Banner?

“He's interesting,” she said, then shook her head at the inadequacy of the adjective. “He's a very talented woodworker who makes beautiful furniture. He has an understated sense of humor that's not always readily apparent, and he's much nicer and kinder than he gives himself credit for. He thinks of himself as a misfit, a bit of an outsider-because his parents and stepparents have made him feel that way, I think. He lacks confidence in himself and his people skills, but he really isn't the loner he tries to convince everyone, including himself, that he is.”

“He does sound interesting,” Janie murmured, studying Lucy speculatively. “How old did you say he is?”

“He'll be thirty-one on April third.”

“Sounds as if you got to know him fairly well in a short time.”

Remembering several heated kisses, Lucy had to make a determined effort not to blush. “There wasn't much to do except talk,” she said evasively. “With the electricity out and all, I mean.”

“You said he was a nice-looking young man?”