“You mean pretend to do sparks.”
“Yes. Pretend.” Those little white lies grew bigger all the time.
“All right.” He nodded. “After all, it’s only for a week. So why don’t we both just relax and have a good time.”
The door behind them swung open.
Mayor Corrigan entered the room and took his seat again. He smiled at them both. “Well, you two. What’ll it be? Are we adding your names to the Snow Ball ballot?”
“Yes,” Amber said firmly, all her hopes and dreams wrapped up in that one little word. She didn’t want to have a good time with Michael. Well…yes, she did. But she wanted much more than that. In the one short week ahead, she wanted him to come to love Snowflake Valley…and her family…and her baby…and her…just as much as she loved him.
Forget winning the Snow Ball Queen crown. She wanted to win Michael.
Michael, who hadn’t said a word. He sat watching her again, as if he could read every thought going through her mind. And still, he didn’t answer.
Her heart thudded. Maybe she would lose the race before it even started. Maybe she’d asked for too many miracles at once. Maybe her Prince Charming would turn out to be—
Don’t even think it.
Michael turned to the mayor. “Count me in.”
Chapter Eight
When Amber arrived back at the lodge with Penny after the brief opening ceremony, Michael’s SUV was already in the garage. Fresh snow had fallen during the afternoon, making the walk to the house even more of a challenge.
Downstairs, Michael was nowhere to be found. Not a bad thing. A little outdoor exercise would help burn up some of her excess energy. Leaving Penny asleep in her playpen in the living room, she grabbed the baby monitor and went outside to shovel the path.
After setting the monitor on the porch railing, she took a deep breath of frigid air. Maybe that would clear the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. And there were lots of thoughts swirling around in there, of Michael’s kiss beneath the mistletoe and the competition and the possible contract.
Just as she dug her shovel into the lightly packed snow, she heard boots thumping on the wooden porch, followed by the thud of the back door.
“Need some help?” Michael called.
“No, thanks. The snow’s not that heavy.” Don’t scare the man off. Deliberately, she loaded the shovel and dropped the mound of snow a few feet from the walkway.
A chh-chhhh-chh sound made her look up. He had taken the long-handled broom she had left propped against the railing and was brushing snow from the back steps.
“You don’t need to do that,” she protested. “That’s my job.”
“It’s my lodge,” he countered, smiling, “and I’m your boss.”
As if she needed the reminder. Or maybe she did, judging by the way her pulse had immediately jumped in response to that smile. Shrugging, she went back to work. The chh-chhhh-chh sound continued for a few minutes, but soon dead silence followed.
Seconds later, the thwack of a lightly packed snowball exploded against her shoulder. She whirled to find Michael grinning. “What was that for?”
“Rule number one. Never turn your back on an opponent when there’s snow around.”
As if she hadn’t already known that. “Well, here’s rule number two. Never throw a snowball at someone with better aim.” While she’d spoken, she had knelt to scoop up a handful of snow, watching Michael as he did the same. She timed her missile to hit just as he stood upright. The snowball burst against his chest. “Score!”
As he raised his arm, she ducked. His snowball sailed two feet over her head.
“Rookie!” she called, laughing. “I had a better arm when I was in kindergarten.”
“Oh, yeah? Ever have your face washed with snow?”
“Not by you. And I never will.” When she crouched for another handful of snow, Michael advanced, his long legs suddenly closing half the space between them. Squealing, she turned to run—and tripped over the handle of the shovel.
As she went down, Michael tackled her, sliding one arm around her waist. Before she could hit the drifts of snow, he rolled, pulling her against him, cushioning her fall. She landed lightly on the ground beside him.
“Unfair,” she declared, gasping to catch her breath. “This isn’t football.”
“All’s fair in a snowball fight,” he countered. He scooped up a mound of snow in one gloved hand. “About that face-washing.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, pretty please, Michael…” She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. As he returned her smile, she knocked his arm away. His handful of snow sprayed across the ground. She laughed. “And about the power of distraction…”
“You fight dirty.”
“No, I fight to win.”
“So do I.” He took her hand. Then he lowered his head toward hers. He stopped with his mouth just inches from her lips. She shivered, but not from the snow beneath them. “Now tell me what I wouldn’t dare.”
Did she have the nerve to say it?
Did she have the strength not to?
“You wouldn’t dare kiss me,” she blurted.
“Wouldn’t I?”
Oh, pretty please, Michael…
He brushed her mouth with his. Once. Twice. Three times. More than enough to tantalize. Not enough to satisfy.
She was ready to dare him to do more when he stood, pulling her to her feet along with him. “It’s too cold to have you lying out here in the snow.”
Visions of the living room couch in front of the fire…her cozy bed upstairs…his king-size mattress in the master suite…all danced like sugarplums before her eyes. Wishful thinking. But oh, what good wishes.
“We should go inside,” he said.
“Quitting already? My boss wouldn’t be too happy to see that.”
He gestured toward the lodge. “My boss would have noticed the job was done.”
Sure enough, the back steps and porch were cleared of snow. She tilted her head, eyeing him as they walked the few feet to the house.
“What? Whatever that look means, I don’t like it.”
“It means who knew you were such a good worker.” Leaning against the porch railing, she smiled up at him and added encouragingly, “We could really use another good worker to help with the festival.”
“Shouldn’t all these celebrations be done by now? Christmas is over.”
“It’s never over in Snowflake Valley. We have visitors all year round. And the festival is the biggest draw of the year. Plus, Callie has the silent auction planned. So we need even more help than usual.”
“Not from me. Getting close to all that cheer wouldn’t be good for me.”
“Of course it would. Where’s your heart?” she demanded.
“In my wallet. Right where you’ll find the donation I’ll be happy to make.”
“That would be great. But we could also use a strong back and an extra pair of hands.” If there was a wheedling tone to her voice, who could blame her? She had to help her family, and she wanted him by her side. Time was short.
That alone made it worth a little negotiation.
She propped her boot on the bottom step. He took a seat that left them eye-to-eye. Almost mouth-to-mouth again. Despite the cold air, she felt a flash of warmth. She loosened the scarf she wore draped around her neck.
“After we’re done working,” she said encouragingly, “there’s time off for good behavior.”
“And I know just what to do with it.” He tugged on the scarf. “You’re too tempting,” he murmured. “I want to kiss you, even when there’s no mistletoe around.”
His gaze went to her mouth. Her knees went weak. Either kiss me or catch me when I fall.
He looked up at her, his eyes mesmerizing. But his smile suddenly looked as unsteady as she felt. “What happens if I’m not on my best behavior at all times?”
Who cared about that now? Right
this minute, all she wanted was to lean forward. To give him what he wanted. A kiss.
As if he had changed his mind, Michael leaned back to rest his elbows on the step behind him, breaking eye contact. Breaking the spell.
Swallowing her disappointment, she forced a grin. “Don’t worry, there will be enough of my family around to make sure you stay focused on the job.” Too true. Unfortunately. “But it won’t be all work and no play. And don’t forget the Snow Ball on New Year’s Eve. Drinks—well, soft drinks—the party’s at the community center, after all. Anyway, drinks and dinner, dancing, maybe something fabulous from the auction.” And of course, the chance to become Michael’s Queen. “Life just doesn’t get any better.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She tried—and failed—to push away the memories of what he had said that afternoon.
So why don’t we both just relax and have a good time.
It’s only for a week.
No matter how much she loved this man, she had to worry about next week and the next and all the weeks after that. About her real life, with her daughter. Her job. Her future. The one she couldn’t risk by making yet another mistake with another man. Especially this man, who issued her paycheck.
She wanted Michael. But he wasn’t part of her real life. Of her world. How could she ever have believed only one week would change that?
She resettled her scarf. “Well,” she said finally, “I know it’s not the high life you’re used to back in California, but for this small-town girl, the festival and the Snow Ball are both pretty exciting events.”
She glanced past him up the steps to the front door. So close, yet so far. “I need to go check on Penny.”
“She hasn’t let out a squawk. I’ve been monitoring the monitor.” He laughed. “But to tell you the truth, I feel confident we’d hear her without it.”
“Very funny—not.”
His dark gaze met hers again. Her determination to stay away from him melted like snowflakes hitting a hot stove.
Not good at all. What kind of role model was she going to be for her daughter?
Taking a deep breath, she brushed past him and went up the steps to the back door.
Considering Michael had stayed closed up in his office the rest of the afternoon, Amber wasn’t sure he would be interested in supper. Seeing him walk into the kitchen came as a surprise.
Then again, everyone had to eat.
On her way home that afternoon, she had picked up more leftovers at her parents’ house. The containers sat lined up on the kitchen counter. “Just give me a few minutes to organize,” she said. That was it. Be businesslike. Professional. The perfect cook and housekeeper. “I’ll get the table in the dining area ready while everything’s reheating.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s eat in here. That’ll be less trouble for us both.”
“But the dining area’s decorated for the holiday.”
“And the holiday’s over.”
He didn’t sound at all upset by that. She thought wistfully of the Christmas party she had held here for the kids and of the decorations she had put up in the combined dining and living area. A poinsettia and candles. Garland. Crystal snowflakes. And in the corner of the living room, the Christmas tree, sparkling with light.
Frowning, she glanced around the kitchen. “In here, about the only thing hinting at the holiday is the green dishtowel.”
“What difference does that make? We’re not eating the towels.”
She had to laugh.
“Besides,” he went on, “it makes more sense to stay here, instead of setting up that big table just for the two of us.” He glanced over at the playpen. “Make that the three of us.”
She shrugged, giving in gracefully. After she put the leftovers in the oven, she crossed to the doorway. “Be right back. I just want to grab a few table decorations to liven things up.”
He shook his head but simply reached across to grab the notebook she had left on the counter. The book listed all the jobs she did on a regular basis, as well as any problems that popped up. It didn’t seem possible she had worked for Michael for more than a year. But one look at her daughter provided the proof.
She gathered what she wanted from the dining area. Back in the kitchen, she draped a runner across the oak table, then added a small poinsettia in a pot shaped like Santa’s sleigh.
Michael glanced up from her notebook. “Is this sleigh motor-driven, like the one at the community center?”
“No. This one’s powered by elves.”
He laughed and returned his attention to the book.
While they ate, they discussed notes she had made. He left the running and maintenance of the lodge in her hands. She was proud of his trust, as proud as she was of her ability to take care of herself and Penny.
Not that she’d done very well in that department lately.
When they had finished eating, Michael sat back and glanced over at the empty plastic containers on the counter. “Guess I’ve put a dent in your leftovers. I’ll have to make it up to you, take you out for another meal.”
A real date. The thought warmed her all over. But she refused to let him know how much his offer thrilled her. Refused to hang on to the feeling at all. “That’s okay. A week from now, my mom will have another roast turkey, along with a ham.”
“Your family makes a big deal of New Year’s, too?”
“Of course.” She stared at him for a moment. He’d already told her about his horrible Christmases. “Doesn’t your family try to make any of the holidays special?”
“No,” he said shortly, pushing her notebook aside.
No wonder he acted like such a Scrooge.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said softly.
“Don’t be sorry. That’s just the way it is. I suppose your family makes a big deal of every holiday on the calendar.”
“Just about. We’ve had huge celebrations ever since I can remember, for any holiday you can name. And don’t even get me started on birthdays.” She smiled wryly. “Include everyone in my family, and we have something to celebrate almost every time I stop in to visit.”
“And now you have Penny’s birthday in the mix, too.”
“Yes.”
After a moment, he said, “When I hired you, you didn’t tell me you were pregnant.”
“No. I’d just found out myself not too long before that. And I hadn’t told anyone yet.” Except her husband…who had left her. At the interview, she had decided not to say anything about the baby. She couldn’t. Not when she hadn’t even told her family.
Michael had come to the lodge with guests last spring. Too late for skiing. Also too late for him to miss her growing belly. If she had told him at the interview, would he still have hired her?
What did that matter now? She grabbed her plate and reached across the table for his. “Ready for dessert?”
“You don’t need to wait on me. This isn’t a house party.”
“I know,” she said uncomfortably. “It’s not a party at all. I’m sorry I interfered with your plans for solitude.”
“You did throw my entire schedule off-track, didn’t you? I suppose I should throw you out.” No smile now.
She took the dishes to the sink and began rinsing them. “Listen to you,” she forced herself to say lightly. “As if I’d really believe you would toss a mom and her baby out in the snow.” The image made her think of their snowball fight. And what had come after.
A wet dinner plate nearly slipped from her hands. Focus, already. Easy to say. Impossible to do. But let him see just how he affected her, and she was in big trouble.
“Before I left town this afternoon,” he said, “Nick and I made plans.”
“Plans?”
“Yeah. He and Lyssa are coming up tomorrow for some skiing. They’ll be here early. She said she has the rest of the week off from work.”
She nodded. “It’s a busy week at Holidaze—the gift shop she manages. But she wanted to
spend the time with Nick while she could.”
“They’re planning to be here for breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” That got her full attention. Time to do her job. Or better said, to ’fess up that she hadn’t done it. “I completely forgot about going to the store today. We don’t have enough here to feed them.”
“I told Nick that. He said they would take care of it.” He rose from his seat. “I need to get some work done.”
She frowned. He couldn’t have suddenly developed a passion for paperwork, could he? No. Short answer, he was avoiding her.
She watched him leave the room.
Even with him gone from view, she could still envision his smile. The one that lit his entire face, making him hotter than ever.
The one she hadn’t seen since he’d asked about her pregnancy…and her family…and the holidays.
Chapter Nine
Amber set out frying pans and spatulas and measuring cups. She prepared the coffeemaker and lined up mugs on the counter. Anything to keep from glancing across the room.
More often than not, she lost the battle.
She hadn’t seen Michael again last night, but when she and Penny had come downstairs that morning, he was in the kitchen. Now, he stood gathering silverware from the drawer.
She frowned. When he brought guests to the lodge, he never helped her with any of the housework. It didn’t seem right to have him in here. It didn’t feel right, when she had spent half the night telling herself she needed to keep her distance.
“Really,” she said, “I can manage. You don’t have to do this. After all, you’re the boss.”
A good reminder to herself—and a good reason she shouldn’t be wishing for his kiss.
He shrugged. “No problem. I want to work up a good appetite by the time Nick and Lyssa get here. I’m looking forward to Elf Eggs Benedict.”
Again, she frowned. “I thought they’d just pick up some groceries at the store. Nick said they’re bringing breakfast from the Candy Cane?”
“You’re kidding me, right? I made that up. No, wait. You’re not kidding.” He rolled his eyes. “What do they call the bacon? Santa’s Sleigh Strips?”
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