Beneath the Mistletoe: Make-Believe Mistletoe / Christmas Bonus, Strings Attached. GINA WILKINS
a bag of marshmallows for topping the hot cocoa. “How did you like the tree I found?” he asked as he handed her the bag.
Was he really comparing himself to Santa Claus? She plopped a couple of marshmallows into a mug. “It’s a lovely tree.”
He was standing rather close to her now, his arm making contact with hers again as he set one of the filled mugs on a big tray. “So what else would a guy have to do to compete with Santa for your affections?”
“He would have to be jolly, of course.”
Banner had been reaching for another mug. His hand went still. “Jolly?”
“Jolly,” she repeated firmly.
Thoughtfully he finished transferring the mugs to the tray. “I don’t suppose you would settle for two out of three?”
She smiled at him then, a bit more confident, now that she had decided he really was teasing, in his odd way. “I never settle.”
He heaved a somber sigh. “That’s what I suspected.”
Balancing the tray with the skill of a seasoned waiter, he nodded toward the living room. “Let’s go check on the progress of the tree.”
She would have liked to remain behind for a moment, just to savor the pleasure of that unexpectedly lighthearted exchange, but he was obviously waiting for her to precede him. Keeping her smile firmly in place, she walked into the living room, knowing the past few minutes would replay themselves plenty of times in her mind.
Chapter Five
Borrowing the keys from Joan, Banner slipped out to her car later that afternoon to retrieve the large plastic bags she had described to him. Stuffed into her trunk, the black drawstring-topped bags held wrapped presents for the children. There were other presents in the trunk, but Joan had instructed him to leave those, since they were for other members of her family.
He hauled the bags to his workshop. It was becoming somewhat easier to walk as the ice slowly melted. Still slippery, though, he mused, placing his boots carefully as he carried the bags to his workshop. The ground had pretty much turned to mud beneath the ice.
Glancing toward the road, he noted several large exposed patches, but no longer frozen asphalt. Ice covered the road in the shaded areas, making travel extremely hazardous, but he’d bet it would be navigable by tomorrow afternoon. His guests would be on their way, which was good for them since he knew they were anxious to be with their families.
The house was going to seem quiet after they left, he thought. It was usually the way he preferred things, but he had to admit—rather to his own surprise—that he had sort of enjoyed the last few hours. Thanks to Lucy, he added thoughtfully. Of all his guests, he knew she was the one who would linger in his thoughts after everyone was gone.
Half an hour later he was still puttering in his workshop when the door opened and a head poked in. Lucy’s head, to be specific.
“Banner?” she said. “May I come in?”
He was working at a table he’d pulled close to a back window for light. “Sure,” he said, setting down the sanding block he’d been holding. “Come in.”
She had donned her warm black parka over her Christmas sweatshirt and jeans, he noted. Black leather gloves covered her hands, and the green knit hat perched on her riotous red curls made her look more like a Christmas elf than ever. Her sparkling green eyes and rosy cheeks only added to the image. But that sexy full mouth…his gaze lingered there for a moment as he wondered just how those perfect lips would taste.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I was curious to see where you create that beautiful furniture.”
Roused from his inappropriate thoughts by her words, he nodded and swept a hand around in invitation. “This is it.”
Standing in the center of the drained concrete floor, she turned slowly in a circle to study the rows of power tools on wheeled stands, the long workbenches above which hung cabinets filled with hand tools and materials, and the neat stacks of wood in racks against the far wall. A wood-stove sat in one corner, keeping the temperature comfortable. Banner preferred central heat when the electricity was on, but since he lived in a rural area where power outages were fairly common, he’d left his great-uncle’s old stove in place.
Lucy paused to admire a couple of rockers and Adirondack chairs in various stages of completion, and then she wandered over to his table, studying the items he had been working on. Her eyes lit up. “Are these for Tyler and Tricia?”
A bit self-consciously he shrugged. “Do you think they would like them?”
Lucy beamed at him. “Of course they will. They’re lovely gifts.”
She ran a gloved hand over the smooth footboard of a doll-size Shaker cradle. He had built the cradle out of pine and had stained and buffed it to a rich golden glow. Sitting beside the cradle was an eight-inch-high semi cab, hooked to a foot-long trailer that hauled a detailed backhoe tractor, all crafted of oak and finished to a matte sheen.
The truck-and-backhoe rig represented quite a few hours of work. It was a project Banner had made of scrap wood after seeing the pattern in a woodworkers magazine. He hadn’t made it for anyone in particular, but because the project had appealed to him at the time.
The cradle was left over from a batch he’d made to sell in a Branson craft store. It had lacked only a final light sanding with very fine sandpaper, which he had just completed. He would go over it again with tack cloth to collect dust, and the cradle would be ready for play.
Even before he had known that Lucy and Joan were planning a visit from Santa, he had decided to give these toys to Tyler and Tricia. It just seemed to him that kids needed a little extra attention at Christmas. Lucy had come up with the arts and crafts projects, while Pop and Bobby Ray had entertained with music and funny stories. Working with wood was Banner’s only talent.
“The detail on this rig is amazing,” Lucy marveled, lifting the jointed front-end loader and backhoe with the attached side levers. “I can’t imagine how much time went into this.”
“I don’t watch a lot of TV, and I don’t socialize much,” he replied, pleased by her compliments. “Working with wood helps me pass the time. This was a pattern I wanted to try just for the heck of it. I didn’t know what I was going to do with it, but I’d like to give it to Tyler, if you think he would like it.”
“What boy wouldn’t like it? And what little girl wouldn’t love this cradle? Of course,” Lucy added, “I suppose I’m being sexist. Tricia will probably enjoy playing with the truck and tractor, too, and Tyler might very well have a favorite stuffed toy or doll that he would enjoy putting to bed in the cradle.”
“So which did you prefer when you were a little girl? Dolls or trucks?”
“I played with trucks,” she replied, then wrinkled her nose in what he considered to be an adorable expression. “But I really loved my baby dolls.”
“I can tell by watching you with Tyler and Tricia that you like kids.”
“I love children. I’d like to have at least two of my own—once I find that Santa Claus substitute to father them,” she added with a laugh.
Banner couldn’t imagine that it would be difficult for Lucy to find someone willing to fill that role. She certainly seemed to have a great deal to offer a man who was interested in marriage and kids. Which didn’t include him, of course.
He had tried the marriage thing, and it had been an abysmal failure—something he should have predicted from the start. Considering his history with relationships, he had no desire to risk making a fool of himself like that again.
Not that Lucy would be interested even if he was, he assured himself. After all, she was looking for a frigging jolly Santa Claus.
“What’s that expression?” Lucy asked him suddenly, studying him with her head cocked curiously