“Isn’t she a precious little thing?” Miss Annie murmured.
“She is a cutie.” Pop turned back to Lucy. “Let me see that card trick again. I don’t think I watched closely enough the first time. Didn’t see how you managed it.”
“Watch as closely as you like. You won’t see how I do it this time, either,” she bragged, shuffling the deck as she walked toward his chair.
“I want to see this, too.” Bobby Ray walked over to stand behind Pop’s chair, his gaze focused on Lucy’s hands.
By the time she had performed the trick twice for Pop and once for Bobby Ray, the men had to concede that they had no idea how Lucy knew which card they had chosen each time.
“I read your mind,” she teased, quoting Tricia. “Weren’t you listening, dopey-heads?”
Everyone laughed—except Banner, who stood and turned toward the kitchen. “I think I’ll go out to the workshop and bring some things onto the back porch.”
Lucy knew he meant the children’s gifts. They would be easily accessible on the back porch once they knew the children were sound asleep. “I’ll help you,” she said, laying the deck of cards on a table.
“You need me to come with you?” Bobby Ray asked.
“No, we can handle it,” Banner replied, already on his way.
Bobby Ray picked up the cards and looked at Pop. “Want to join me in a game of candlelight gin rummy?”
“I believe I will,” the older man said, scooting his chair closer to the coffee table.
Miss Annie’s knitting needles were already clicking again when Lucy left the cozy room in Banner’s wake.
Lucy had donned her coat and cap, but she still shivered when she stepped outside. She knew the temperature was only in the low thirties, but it felt colder. It was pitch-dark outside without the security lamps, and she had to aim her flashlight carefully to guide her steps.
“You okay?” Banner asked over his shoulder.
“Just lead the way.”
It was dark in the workshop, of course, but a little warmer than it was outside, since there was still some heat radiating from the woodstove. Banner turned his flashlight to one side of the door, where he had left the children’s gifts. “There they are. You grab one bag, and I’ll take the other. I’ll come back for whatever is left over.”
“This is sort of fun, isn’t it? I’ve never done the Santa Claus thing before.”
She didn’t know how to interpret the grunt he gave her in reply.
She tried again to draw him into a conversation. “I think everyone had a lovely Christmas Eve. The children seemed happy when they went off to bed.”
Banner hefted bags, choosing the lightest one to hand to Lucy. “I think they were kept entertained.”
“I was really impressed by the way you recited the poem. I’ve tried to memorize it a couple of times, but I can never remember all the reindeer names.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t do card tricks. Or advanced math calculations.”
Something in his tone made her frown. Did it bother him that she was a mathematics professor? She had met a few guys who were intimidated by her degree, but she wouldn’t have thought Banner was the type. He seemed to have plenty of self-confidence, but she didn’t doubt that he was a master at hiding any insecurities he might have.
It seemed the more time she spent with him, the more questions she had about him.
She wished she knew exactly why he had become so reticent. She missed the camaraderie she had shared with him earlier, what little there had been. But he seemed to have started drawing back even before the discussion about careers.
Had her growing attraction to him been so obvious? Was he pulling back because he didn’t want to risk sending the wrong signals—didn’t want her to think he was interested in her, too?
To be honest, that was exactly what she had started to believe. She thought there had been a spark between them—not necessarily suitable, but genuine. Maybe she had been mistaken. Or maybe she hadn’t, and he was simply being sensible in applying the brakes to an attraction that probably wouldn’t lead anywhere.
He opened the workshop door again, motioning with his flashlight for her to precede him so he could close the door behind them. “Watch your step.”
It wasn’t easy manipulating the big bag of gifts and the flashlight. Though she tried to be careful, Lucy found herself slipping once or twice on the path back to the house. Since Banner’s hands were also full, there wasn’t much he could do to help her, but he stayed close just in case. She was relieved to make it to the porch with both the gifts and herself in one piece. Banner set his load down beside the door, and she placed hers beside it.
He immediately turned to walk back down the steps. “I’ll get the rest of the stuff.”
Remembering the size of the cradle and the wooden truck and trailer rig, Lucy took a step after him. “I’ll help you.”
“That’s not necessary,” he said without looking back.
“No, really.” She moved a bit faster, the beam from her flashlight swinging in front of her. “I can carry the cradle for you.”
He half turned to face her. “Go back inside where it’s warm. I can—”
There must have been an icy patch beneath his foot. Or perhaps it was mud. Whatever, it was slippery—and Banner’s foot shot out from beneath him, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance.
Lucy threw herself at him, bracing him until he regained his footing. His arm went around her waist, probably an instinctive move.
After a moment Lucy asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just slipped.”
She noted that he didn’t immediately move his arm. Had the temperature risen or was it the fact that she was pressed so snugly against him that made her feel so warm? As if she didn’t know. Nor was she in any hurry to move away.
She looked up at him. Their flashlights were pointed downward, so she couldn’t really see his face. The moon gave enough illumination to show a gleam in his eyes as he gazed back down at her. And still he didn’t move.
“Um, Banner?”
“Yeah?” His voice sounded gruff.
“What are you doing?’
“Just wondering if you really do read minds—or if it was only a card trick,” he murmured.
Caught off guard, she asked blankly, “Why?”
“Because if you read minds, you would know that I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you showed up on my doorstep.”
“Do wha—”
His lips were on hers before she could complete the syllable.
The kiss didn’t last very long, barely long enough for her to note the details of the way his lips tasted, the way they felt and moved against hers. Yet she knew those details were being filed away inside her mind and that she would replay this kiss countless times in her head. Just as she knew that when the kiss ended, she would no longer be able to pretend that she was only casually interested in Banner.
She could no longer ignore the fact that his name had slipped to the top of her prospect list.
Who was she kidding? His name was the only one on her list now, even if he didn’t fit all the criteria she had once believed a man must have to be a suitable match for her.
In just over twenty-four hours, Banner had gone from total stranger to someone she wanted very much to get to know better.