Single Dads Collection. Lynne Marshall
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Finley sighed. Shannon found the Christmas music but kept the volume low. A soft mellow song drifted into the room. Finley turned her attention to her dinner. Wanting to get as much done as she could while Finley was cooprerative, Shannon grabbed the spools of tinsel she’d created the night before.
“I’m going to hang these from the ceiling.”
Rory glanced over at her. “Is that code for I need a tall person to help me?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
He took the tinsel from her hand. She pointed at a corner. “What my dad used to do at our old house was string the tinsel from one corner to the center, and from the center to the opposite corner, making two loops. Then we’d do that again from the other corners.”
He frowned. “Why don’t you just direct me?”
“Okay. Walk to the corner, attach the tinsel with a tack, then loop it to the center of the ceiling.”
He did as she said. When they met in the center, she tacked the tinsel in place. “Now walk to the opposite corner and tack the tinsel up there.”
When the line of tinsel was in place, he smiled. “Not bad. Sort of festive.”
“Glad you like it.” She handed him another strand of tinsel. “Because now we’ve got to do the other two corners.”
He happily took the strand of tinsel and repeated the looping process.
When he was done, she offered him the ball of mistletoe her dad always put in the center. “Just hang this where the strands meet.”
He looked at the mistletoe, looked at her.
Then it hit her. The mistletoe was pretty, but it was plastic. They’d hung the silly thing in their living room for years and, basically, no one paid any attention to the fact that it was mistletoe or the traditions that surrounded it.
Obviously, Rory wasn’t so casual about it.
Embarrassment should have shot through her. Instead, when their gazes met, the warmth of connection flooded her. She really liked this guy.
But she’d already figured out that they weren’t right for each other. Plus, once he made a decision about her store, they’d never see each other again. They had no time to form a deep emotional attachment. There’d be no time for a real commitment. They’d spend so little time together there wouldn’t even be a brush with one. Was it so wrong to want another kiss?
It might not be wrong, per se, but it did lead them down a slippery slope. A slope she might not recover from if she actually fell for him in this little span of time they had together. If they fell, and he asked her to stay or asked her to come to Virginia with him, or ask for any kind of commitment at all, she’d have to tell him.
And she couldn’t do that. Not again.
She caught his gaze. “We don’t have to bow to the whims of superstition or tradition.”
He bounced the ball of mistletoe on his palm. “But what if we want to?”
Frissions of delight raced through her bloodstream. She couldn’t stop the pleasure that blossomed in her chest. But that only made her realize how easily she could fall and how careful she’d have to be spending the next few days with him at the store.
Still, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. She tapped his arm playfully. “Just hang the darn thing.”
They hung more tinsel in her dining room and threaded it around her doorways. With the shiny silver tinsel in place, she handed Rory a box of bright blue Christmas-tree balls. “Hang these on the tinsel…about three feet apart.”
“Okay.” He glanced at Finley, who had finished her dinner and was sitting, watching them. He offered the box to her. “Want to hand these to me?”
She shrugged. “I suppose.” She scrambled up from her seat beside the coffee table and took the box.
Shannon gathered their dishes and carried them to the kitchen. When she returned to the living room, Rory and Finley had a little assembly line going. Finley would hand him a blue ball. He’d hang it on the tinsel. By the time he turned for another ornament, Finley already had one in her hand for him.
“What do you think I should do with the drapes?”
Rory glanced over. “Do?”
“Should I loop some tinsel across the top?” She pulled some plastic fir garland from the big box on the floor. “Or maybe some of this fake fir stuff.”
Finley said, “It’s too green,” surprising both Shannon and Rory.
“Too green?”
“Yeah. The curtains are green.”
Understanding what Finley was saying, Shannon said, “Right. Maybe we should loop some tinsel around the garland so it stands out a bit.”
“Or just put up lights.”
“Lights!” Shannon said, liking that idea. “My parents left me all kinds of lights.” She rummaged through the box of ornaments again. She presented two sets. “What do you think? Little twinkle lights or these bigger lights that don’t blink?”
“I think you’ll see the bigger ones better.”
Rory laughed at Finley’s answer. “When did you become an expert?”
Finley’s nose wrinkled. “What’s an expert?”
“Someone who knows what she’s doing,” Shannon replied. “You’re a natural.”
Finley shrugged. But Shannon dug out the bigger lights. With her hands full, she kicked a stepstool over to the front window.
But before she could climb up to reach the top rod, Rory was behind her. “Need help looping those?”
She turned so quickly that she nearly bumped into him. Warmth exploded through her. So did ridiculous need. She didn’t remember ever being so spontaneously attracted to a man. But she was to him. And she’d already decided it was wrong. Or pointless. Or both.
She stepped back, putting some necessary space between them. “Just loop them across the top.”
Finley ran to the step stool. “I’ll help.”
Rory laughed. “You’re certainly enthusiastic suddenly.”
She shrugged. “This is kinda fun.”
Shannon ruffled her hair. “I told you.”
As Rory and Finley strung the brightly colored lights across the top of the drapes, Shannon rummaged for more decorations from the boxes her parents had left behind when they moved to Florida. She pulled out figurines of two kids skiing and figurines of people sledding and set them out on the end tables. She found a gold table runner and set it on the coffee table with red and green candles.
Seeing Rory and Finley were still stringing the lights, she decided this would be a good time for her to make some cocoa and headed for the kitchen. But she’d barely gotten the milk in the pan before Rory walked in.
“After the way you shot me down over the mistletoe, I’m guessing I should apologize for kissing you this afternoon.”
His comment surprised her so much that she turned from the stove. The repentant look on his face squeezed her heart. Because she’d been as much of a party to that kiss as he’d been, she’d be a real hypocrite if she let him take the blame. “No apology necessary.”
“Really? Because you’re kind of standoffish.”
She drew in a breath. What could she say? There’s no chance of a relationship between us, so I’m being careful? She’d look like an idiot. Especially since in this day and age a kiss didn’t necessary equate to a relationship. Hell, for some people sex didn’t necessarily equate to a relationship.