responding, he stepped out onto the back porch to retrieve the milk from the big cooler. “There’s some melting going on,” he commented when he came back in with the milk. “The thermometer on the porch reads a few degrees above freezing.”
“Great. Maybe we’ll be able to get out of your hair tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll be glad to have your house to yourself again.”
He didn’t answer, but crossed his arms over his chest and leaned one hip against the bar. “So what do you need me to do to help with Joan’s kids?”
“I don’t suppose you would put on a Santa suit?”
“Not even if my life depended on it,” he answered evenly.
“That’s pretty much what I thought,” she said, amused. “So, how about if you get the gifts out of Joan’s trunk before it’s dark and stash them somewhere close until after the kids are asleep?”
“That I will do.”
She sighed. “I appreciate it, of course, but I would have dearly loved to see you in a Santa suit.”
He reached around her to turn down the heat beneath the bubbling cocoa. His arm brushed against her with the movement, sending a jolt of awareness through her.
“Is this some sort of kinky fetish thing?” he asked in a murmur. For a moment she couldn’t think what he was talking about, since his touch seemed to have temporarily emptied her mind.
When she realized that he was displaying yet another example of his quirky humor, she managed a smile. “I’ve always had a thing for Santa Claus.”
“Must be hard for your other boyfriends to compete.”
She took the pan of steaming cocoa off the heat, setting it on a cool burner. “So far, no one’s been able to.”
“So what would it take?”
She could feeling him watching as she ladled the hot beverage into mugs. He wasn’t an easy man to banter with—if that’s what they were doing. He was too serious, too intense. And his humor was unpredictable, to say the least.
Still, she gave it a try. “He’d have to be generous, of course.”
Banner’s left eyebrow rose. “Opening his home to stranded holiday travelers, for example?”
“Um, yeah, something like that.” She kept her gaze focused on the ladle as she reminded herself yet again that he couldn’t be taken too seriously.
“What else?”
She cleared her throat. “He should be resourceful. A good provider.”
Banner reached into the pantry and produced 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,
