Gina Wilkins - Make-Believe Mistletoe

“I didn't say what he looked like,” Lucy corrected, not being fooled for a moment.

“But he is nice looking?”

“He's gorgeous,” Lucy admitted with a sigh. “Pretty enough to frame and hang on a wall.”

Janie laughed. “He sounds more interesting all the time. Are you going to see him again?”

“Absolutely.” After all, Banner had left that choice open, she reminded herself with characteristic optimism.

“Sounds promising.”

“Definite potential,” Lucy agreed. “But the man is skittish.”

Janie waved a hand in dismissal. “Honey, they all are.”

“Yes, but trust me, this one's the champ.”

Her aunt shrugged. “That just means you have to be a bit more persistent-or devious, as the need might be.”

Lucy laughed. “As much as I appreciate the confidence you show in me, I wouldn't be planning any wedding showers yet. As determined as I can be when I set my mind to something, I'm not sure even I'm a match for Richard Merchant Banner.”

Janie only smiled at the niece she had raised as her own daughter for so many years. “If it comes down to a battle of wills between you and this Richard Banner, my money is on you.”

Lucy wasn't making any bets herself. But it was nice to know she had at least one supporter firmly in her corner.

Banner woke to the rumble of central heating on the morning after Christmas. An overhead light burned directly into his eyes when he opened them. In the background he could hear the hum of his refrigerator and the other electric appliances that provided the generally unnoticed noise of modern life. They sounded unnaturally loud after the absolute silence.

Yawning, he rolled over in his sleeping bag, dislodging Hulk, who had been sleeping with his head on Banner's stomach. Even though his bedroom had been free, Banner had slept in the living room again last night. He just hadn't been in the mood to sleep alone in his big bed.

He had taken down all the Christmas decorations before turning in, so his house looked normal again. He wondered how long it would be until he felt the same as he had before meeting Lucy.

She had been his last thought before falling asleep, and his first upon awakening this morning. How could someone who had been in his life less than forty-eight hours have made such a powerful impact on him?

Because the house seemed unusually quiet, even with the appliances making their sounds, he turned on the television for noise while he cooked and ate breakfast. He was going to have to make a grocery run this afternoon to replenish his supplies, he thought with a glance into his nearly empty pantry. And then he intended to lose himself in his work, keeping himself too busy to think and too tired to lie awake that night mentally replaying ill-advised kisses.

Four-month-old Nicolas McDonald kicked happily in Lucy's arms, his wet, toothless baby smile making her melt in response. She leaned over to nuzzle his chubby cheeks, which gave him the perfect opportunity to grab a fistful of her red curls.

Carefully disentangling herself, she wrinkled her nose at him. “You are adorable,” she said.

He gurgled in smug agreement.

This was her cousin Tony's youngest child, and Lucy was crazy about him-as she was his three-year-old sister and their eight-and six-year-old cousins. She had always loved children. Never in her life had she considered that she wouldn't have any of her own, though motherhood had been one of her back-burner goals, something that could wait while she pursued her education. Now that her twenties were slipping so quickly away from her, she was becoming more aware of passing time.

Oh, sure, she was still quite young. She knew plenty of women who were putting childbearing off until their thirties, even beyond. But Lucy felt that she was at a prime point now, both physically and emotionally.

Sure, she could have a child on her own, do the single-mother thing-and she had no doubt that she could be good at the role. But she wanted it all-husband, partner, children, dog and picket fence. And Lucy had never been content to settle for less than everything she wanted.

“You're so good with children,” Tony's wife, Hannah, said, as she watched Lucy play with the baby. “I've always wondered why you chose to be at the university instead of teaching younger children.”

“Because I prefer the university setting,” Lucy replied.

“I like discussing mathematics on a higher level. That doesn't take away from my enjoyment of children, though.”

“So, are you seeing anyone special?”

Lucy wondered if Hannah's ultracasual tone was intended to make the segue less obvious. If so, it didn't work. Hannah was obviously wondering if Lucy had prospects for marriage and children of her own.

Hearing the echo of her own thoughts made Lucy clear her throat and keep her gaze focused on the baby. “Not at the moment.”

She had no intention, of course, of mentioning the new name at the top of her list. But that didn't mean she wasn't thinking of him as she continued to play with her cousin's tiny son.

Banner found the money hidden in his bread box when he was putting away the supplies he'd bought that afternoon. The bills had been tucked into a folded sheet of white paper. Frowning, he spread the page to study the neatly slanted handwriting, which he knew instinctively belonged to Lucy, even though there was no signature.

“Banner,” the note said, “your kindness and your hospitality have made this a very special Christmas for all of your guests. None of us will ever forget you. Thank you.”

He sighed as he looked at the money. He had told them not to do this. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford to feed a few houseguests for a couple of days-even though it wasn't something he did very often. Okay, ever.

Kindness and hospitality. He gave a short, humorless laugh. Wouldn't his family be surprised to read those words in connection with him? None of them would have believed he knew how to offer either one.

He found himself tracing the letters of his name, imagining Lucy writing them. “None of us will ever forget you,” she had said.

He was rather afraid that he would never be able to forget her, either.

“So, how's my little girl?” Major Les Guerin asked as he and Lucy wandered arm and arm down Janie's winding garden path. The garden was dormant for winter, but bird baths and feeders provided entertainment as a variety of birds scrambled for the best seeds.

Lucy and her father, bundled against the cold, had slipped out of the house a few minutes earlier to spend a little time alone together. It was something they tried to do whenever they found themselves in the same place at the same time, something that happened all too rarely these days with their busy schedules.

Lucy leaned comfortably against her father's arm. When she was a little girl, she had thought he was the strongest, wisest, most handsome man on the planet. Now that she was an adult, she had no doubt that he was.

She had never blamed her father for sending her to live with his sister and brother-in-law after her mother's death. Les had had no interest in remarrying after the loss of his longtime sweetheart, and his military career had been too demanding to allow him to give her the time and attention an adolescent girl deserved. Janie had been able to offer those things as well as a woman's perspective, and Lucy had never lacked for love and attention.

Her father had called her almost every evening to ask how her day had gone and had visited as often as his schedule allowed. It hadn't been a traditional father-daughter relationship, perhaps, but it had worked for them.

“I'm hardly your little girl anymore, Daddy.”

He chuckled and patted her gloved hand, which rested on his arm. “I don't care how many advanced degrees you get, you'll always be my little girl.”

It was an old, familiar exchange, and as always it made Lucy smile. She rested her head against his shoulder. “I love you, Daddy.”

He responded with a characteristic mumble, then quickly changed the subject. “I hope you learned your lesson about taking off in your car when an ice storm is threatened. You were lucky you didn't spend Christmas Eve in a ditch somewhere, you know. Or worse.”

“I didn't know there was going to be an ice storm. The weather forecaster said he thought there would only be snow, if that. If I had known about the ice-”

“You probably would have tried to make it, anyway,” her father said with resignation.

“Maybe,” Lucy agreed ruefully. “I wouldn't have liked the thought of not being with everyone for Christmas. As it was, I missed the big Christmas Eve shindig.”

“Sounds like you had an interesting time where you were.”

“It was definitely interesting. Everyone was so nice. I really enjoyed watching the children find their gifts from Santa Claus.” She had told her family all about Tyler and Tricia and the lengths the adults had gone to so the children would have a special Christmas.

“You were just darned lucky you had a safe place to stay. Could have been stranded alone in your car. Or the guy in the house could have been a dangerous nutcase. Anything could have happened to you.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Lucy said, tolerating his lecturing because she knew he really did worry about her. “I promise I'll be more careful in the future, but this time everything worked out fine.”

“And now you're humoring me.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Should've spanked you more when you were a kid,” he muttered.

Not believing a word of it, she laughed and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder as affectionately as a kitten. The major might intimidate most other people, but Lucy knew that where she was concerned, at least, the man was a marshmallow.

“So this guy who took you in-you going to be seeing him again?”

She wasn't particularly surprised by the question. Her father had always had a sixth sense about her. It had been particularly spooky when she was a teenager hundreds of miles away from him and somehow he had still known everything she was up to, but she had gotten accustomed to it since then. “Yes, I'll see him again.”

“Too early to get serious. Two days isn't long enough to get to know someone.”

“Are you telling me you don't believe in love at first sight?” Her gently mocking tone was deliberate, since she had heard the story about her father meeting her mother and immediately saying to himself, “Here is the woman I'm going to marry.”

The Major had the grace to flush a little. “I didn't say that,” he answered gruffly. “Are you telling me you already fancy yourself in love with this man?”

“All I'm saying is that I like him quite a lot, and I hope to have a chance to get to know him better. Maybe you'll meet him before long. I think you would like him, too, even though he's a little…well, different.”

This time it was her father who chuckled. “I wouldn't have expected anyone who caught your interest to be anything but different.”

That made her lift an eyebrow. “I'm trying to decide if that's a compliment or an insult.”

Patting her hand again, he led her onto a new pathway. “I'll let you think about it for a while. And, by the way, I do want to meet this Banner guy. Sooner, rather than later, if things start getting serious.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Apparently satisfied that he had made his point, Les changed the subject to family matters, and Lucy willingly went along.

She had said all she intended to say about Banner. More than he would have liked, probably, considering how obsessively private he was. But nothing had changed about her interest in seeing him again.

It was funny the way thoughts of Lucy popped into Banner's mind at random moments that seemed to have no connection to her. Even five days after she had left, on December thirtieth, he still found himself thinking of her frequently, hoping she had made the remainder of the trip safely, wondering if she was enjoying her visit with her family.

Wondering if she thought of him even half as often as he thought of her.

Probably not, he decided as he ran a length of white pine through his planer. After all, she had plenty of other people now to distract her and divert her. If she had spoken of him at all, it had probably been to describe him as an oddball who lived alone with a scraggly dog and had been grudgingly gracious enough to allow a few stranded travelers to stay with him for a couple of days, though he had done little to entertain them while they were there.

Maybe he could have been a little friendlier. A little more social. Or maybe…

But no. He'd been himself, pretty much. And while Lucy might have found him a novelty while she was here, he wouldn't be surprised if the novelty had already worn off.