Beneath the Mistletoe. Susan Crosby
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have no interest in a socially awkward, frequently tongue-tied, oddball loner like Banner. But that certainly didn’t make him any less mesmerized by her.
Another strong gust of wind rattled the windows, and the lights flickered again. Once, twice, three times before they stabilized.
Tricia whimpered and Joan comforted her. Banner noticed that Lucy had paled a little and seemed to be chewing on her full lower lip. The prospect of being in the dark made her nervous, and when she was nervous she tended to babble, he reminded himself. She must be making quite an effort to remain quiet so the children could enjoy the television program.
The singing and dancing gave way to a commercial, and Lucy looked away from the screen. Her gaze met Banner’s, and she gave him a tentative smile. “You don’t look very comfortable over there.”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t know squat about being a host—and even less about running a bed and breakfast, which he seemed to be doing at the moment. He suspected he should be doing more than sitting in a chair staring at everyone like a silent sphinx. “Um, does anyone need anything?”
Apparently, no one did. The room fell silent again except for the sounds from the TV speakers and the storm outside. Banner sat back to watch the show, but his attention kept wandering to Lucy, to his annoyance.
The Christmas special ended at 9 p.m. By that time Tricia, Tyler and Hulk were all asleep, and Bobby Ray looked ready to join them.
“I’d better get these two into bed,” Joan said, looking at her sleeping children.
Bobby Ray stirred and rose to his feet. “Want me to haul the boy in there for you?”
Joan glanced at him, then quickly away, and Banner wondered if the timid woman was unsettled by Bobby Ray’s size. But then, she seemed intimidated by Banner, too, and he was two inches shorter and a good seventy pounds lighter than the truck driver.
“I can manage,” Joan said in the tone of a woman who was accustomed to taking care of herself and her children without assistance.
Bobby Ray yawned again. “Then I’ll have a drink of water before turning in. You take the couch, Banner. The recliner’s comfortable enough for me.”
Banner stood, compelled again to do something host-like. “There are extra blankets in the guestroom closet,” he told Joan. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”
“We’ll be fine,” she assured him, her arms around her sleepy children.
He nodded. “I put a flashlight on the nightstand in case the power goes out. If it gets too cold, you and the kids can bring blankets and pillows in here and bunk in front of the fire.”
He had a small gas log fireplace in the master bedroom, so even if the power went out, the Carters should be okay. They had an attached bath, which would give them privacy and keep Miss Annie from having to walk too far. He had already carried blankets and a pillow into the office for Lucy.
He waited until Lucy emerged from the face-washing and tooth-brushing line for the bathroom, letting Bobby Ray go in after her, and then he motioned toward the doorway that led to the kitchen and office. “I’ll walk with you,” he said. “Just to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Thanks.” Slinging her big duffel bag over one shoulder, she went ahead of him, giving him an intriguing view of her tight, compact backside. He lifted his gaze to the back of her head, reprimanding himself for the thoughts running through his head—thoughts she certainly wouldn’t approve of from a total stranger upon whom she was temporarily dependent.
The office was a small, single-windowed room stuck onto the far side of the house. It was furnished with a large desk that held a computer, printer, phone and fax machine. A copier on a stand was shoved into one corner, and a faded and rather worn green corduroy couch had been pushed against one wall. A white-cased pillow, clean sheets and two blankets waited on one end of the rather shabby green couch.
“It’s not pretty, but it’s comfortable,” he said, motioning toward the couch. “I’ve napped on it a few times. So has Hulk, I’m afraid, but I tried to brush off all the dog hair.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She cast a wary glance at the curtainless window that rattled every time the wind blew. “Maybe you could lower those blinds for me?”
He moved to do so. “You’re sure you’ll be okay in here?”
She gave him a smile that was just a shade too bright. “I’ll be fine,” she said again.
He knew she was worried about a power outage. She’d made it clear enough that she didn’t like the dark. Opening a desk drawer, he took out a small flashlight and handed it to her. She accepted it gratefully.
“You certainly seem prepared for company,” she said, motioning toward the pillow and extra blankets. “Does your family visit often?”
“No. I inherited most of my household supplies from my great-uncle. He built this house.”
“The great-uncle who lived alone until he died?”
He had almost forgotten that he’d mentioned his uncle Joe to Lucy. “Yeah. He died four years ago, leaving me his house and workshop.”
Lucy was already spreading sheets on the couch, her backside swaying with the movements. Banner stuck his hands in his pockets and half turned away, keeping his gaze focused intently on anything but her. He cleared his throat. “Let me know if you need anything during the night.”
“Banner?” She spoke quickly as he stepped through the doorway, his hand on the doorknob. “Would you leave the door open, please?”
He did so, saying over his shoulder, “Keep the flashlight close at hand in case you need it.”
“I certainly will,” he heard her mutter.
She really was nervous. He wondered if her fear of the dark had a basis in experience or if it was a quirk. Maybe she was afraid because circumstances had stranded her here in an unfamiliar place.
All things considered, he was a bit nervous himself. It seemed odd, though, that of all the strangers camped out in his home, Lucy was the only one who reduced him to the almost inarticulate self-consciousness that had plagued him during his awkward youth.
As Banner had promised, the couch was more comfortable than it looked. Lucy nestled into the covers, trying not to think about the storm outside. At least she couldn’t see the creepy, ice-covered branches swaying now that Banner had closed the blinds.
He had left a dim light on in the kitchen, which provided enough illumination to make her reasonably comfortable. She wondered if he always kept that particular bulb burning at night, or if he’d left it on because she had told him the dark made her nervous.
To reassure herself, she slid a hand under her pillow, touching the flashlight he had provided her with. He really was trying to be a good host in his own awkward way, she thought with a slight smile.
She wondered why a young, good-looking guy like him lived alone out here in the back of nowhere. She wondered why he wasn’t joining his family for Christmas. She wondered if he had a girlfriend. And as she drifted into the first stages of sleep, she wondered if he wanted one….
The sound of someone breathing deeply, heavily in her ear brought her eyes open in a hurry. She nearly had a heart attack when she saw a big, dark form looming over her, so close to her face she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said a moment later, not sure if she was relieved.
Hulk laid his shaggy head on her arm. Moving clumsily, she patted him with her other hand. “I know I’m on your couch, but I’m not moving,” she said. “You’ll have to take the floor if you’re sleeping in here.”
He sighed deeply, then removed his head from her arm, curled up on the braided rug in front of the couch and was soon snoring.
That