Too bad he’d have to apologize. His conscience wanted him to make amends, and if he didn’t do something he’d be more than the town Scrooge, he’d be the town pariah. People probably didn’t buy trees from pariahs, environmentally friendly or not. He’d give her a night to cool off. Who knew she had that kind of temper? Or that he’d like it.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Hannah ironed out the elf costumes she planned to take over for the pageant dress rehearsal. They were only a few weeks out from the big performance, and now was the time they needed to make sure all the pieces fit together. Everything had to be perfect. She couldn’t disappoint everyone. Even if she was working on not being so ridiculous in general, the pageant succeeding was nonnegotiable, extra ridiculousness needed or not.
The iron sizzled against the fabric, which distracted her thoughts. As soon as she finished here, she’d go to town and fuss with things to take her mind off the worst date of her entire life. It was worse because she’d expected it to be amazing. She’d never met a man more insufferable. Her fault. For ever thinking the man could be saved.
Janey and Cate entered the room, wearing expectant expressions. Sometimes sharing a house with her sisters was highly inconvenient. Especially when they considered themselves privy to every detail of her life. It’d been bad enough before Griff had asked her out. Now knowing how she’d failed at surviving through a whole evening, she so didn’t want to go there.
“Tell us what happened,” Cate said.
Hannah folded the elf costume one sleeve at a time and smoothed each crease.
“Come on.” Janey tapped her foot impatiently. “You’ve been huffing around the house all morning. You didn’t even make us French toast for breakfast, and it’s a Saturday.”
Hannah set her steaming iron aside and told herself not to throw it. “This might be a news flash for the two of you, but I’m not obligated to make your breakfast.”
Her sisters shared a glance.
“Something serious happened,” Janey said.
Cate frowned. “Did he hurt you?”
She stared up at the ceiling, asking Santa for help. If she’d ever needed to believe in his existence, it was now. “He didn’t hurt me. The date just went poorly.” That was already more than she’d planned to tell them.
Her sisters shared another look, which was never good. Then worse, they shared a nod.
“Oh no.” Hannah threw out her hands to block them, not liking the expressions on their faces. “What are you two planning?”
“Nothing.” Janey was all innocence.
Too bad Hannah recognized that forced innocence when she glanced in the mirror every morning. “Tell me.”
Cate shrugged. Then she scrambled over, full speed. Hannah’s wrists were captured behind her back. “You grab the toilet paper, Janey. I’ll meet you in the car. We’ll teepee that asshole’s house.” Cate held her tight.
Hannah bucked. Her muscles flexed as she tried to break her sister’s hold.
“Hurry, Janey,” Cate yelled. “Hannah’s feeling feisty today.”
“I’m not feeling feisty.” These two were going to drive her insane, if she wasn’t already there yet.
A car rumbling up the drive stopped them cold. Every time someone visited, they all got a loud and clear warning.
Janey and Cate made a dash over to the window to find out who was here.
Hannah shook out her hands and promised she wouldn’t run over. She didn’t care who it was. Griff had been an ass, and he didn’t deserve her forgiveness. She’d even left her favorite cutting board over at his place. The one with her favorite knife stuck in it. Stabbing the wood might have been a tad dramatic. She continued to tell herself she’d never been tempted to throw it. She shouldn’t have left her stuff, which kept a connection between them.
She laid out another costume, then lifted the iron again. All she needed was to focus on her commitments and do her best for the town. She didn’t need a grumpy man, or a relationship, or sex. She faltered over the last part. She kind of did need sex. But that wasn’t what this was about. She wouldn’t go to bed with a man who didn’t respect her. She wouldn’t even spend time with him. She could survive with only having an anonymous crush on her pageant donor. That was safer.
After a while, her sisters whistled. Finally, they sat back. The curtain dropped in front of the window again, darkening the room slightly.
Janey made some type of purring sound. “There’s a big, rugged man pacing in our driveway.”
That information stopped her. “Pacing?”
“He’s got this huge basket.” Janey held out her hands to show the width in a rather crude gesture. “He hasn’t made it to the doorbell yet.”
“He looks pretty damn cute. All nervous and shit.” And Cate was the hard one to impress.
“A basket?” Maybe he was returning it. “Fine, let him in.” The least he could do was give her back her cutting board. Slamming the knife into the wood had been a little petty, but it’d also been kind of liberating.
Remembering all of that made her angry again. She plopped the iron down with too much force. She’d done nothing to deserve his assholishness. She’d thought there was more to him. There wasn’t.
Well, he was here. She supposed she should give him a shot to explain. She wasn’t someone who normally held a grudge. She didn’t allow herself to hold grudges. Nothing positive came from them, except serious annoyance. Like she was feeling now.
Her sisters showed Griff into the room, but then they melted into the background. Not their normal style, but they’d probably listen through the walls.
“Morning.” Griff nodded once, still holding onto the basket.
“What are you doing here?” She forced herself to use a neutral tone. She hated when irritation entered her voice.
His smile crept up. He perused her body as if he knew a secret she couldn’t name.
“Do you like what you see?” Her prim voice came back again. Damn it.
“Yeah. I think I like the apron.”
What a Neanderthal. “Haven’t you ever seen a woman in an apron before?”
“My nanny. I can honestly say I never had this reaction to her.”
“You had a nanny?” Wasn’t that behavior for rich people? Not farmers?
“My parents were wealthy.”
Were, past tense. Okay then. “Why are you here?”
“To apologize.”
“You brought my basket back.” She reached for it.
He held it away. “Now wait a minute. I’m apologizing. Don’t interrupt.”
She folded her arms. This should be interesting.
“I brought you your basket, but I replaced all the crap.”
He must have noticed her expression.
“Your stuff,” he corrected. He moved over to set it on the dining room table. “I couldn’t find an exact replica of your cutting board, but I did find this.” He lifted his gift out.
A reindeer cutting board. How perfect. She softened toward him, reluctantly.
“I thought you might like it.”
“I do.”
He hesitated, as though waiting for more of a response. He’d be waiting a long time. He laid out all his other gifts, each more thoughtful than the last. She was forgiving him by the second. Consideration had gone into his offerings.
“Where are all the things I left at your house?”
“I put them away. So you’d have them, when you’re there.”
“A little presumptuous.” She also found it sweet. This was his way of saying he wanted her around. Before he’d been a total dickwad, she’d been planning long-term. She never had before, but something about Griff was different. Maybe her instincts were off. She hated making mistakes.
“I was hoping my last gift might seal the deal.”
“Try me.”
He brought out an elf costume. “It’s the sexy version.”
“Where the hell did that come from?” They didn’t have things like that
in their town.
“I might have ordered it online a few weeks back. I have no idea why. Probably has nothing to do with a sexy little elf prancing around the square.”
She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, to shield her amusement. “I never prance.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been thinking about you for a long time. I hate that I screwed things up in one night.”
She was caving. Damn it. But if he thought she wasn’t going to fight back, he had no idea. “Why did you do it?”
“I’m kind of an ass.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Her sarcasm burst out something fierce.
It didn’t seem to bother him. “I guess I was trying to see if you could take it.”
“Your conclusion?”
“You can.”
“I left.”
“I don’t blame you. I’m sorry about what I said about your mom. I had no idea.”
The apology she’d been waiting for. “You wouldn’t have known.”
“I guess I should have. I’ve never heard your parents mentioned around here. I guess it was stupid to assume they lived somewhere else. Retired to Florida or something.”
“Not stupid. They could have retired somewhere else. The town doesn’t bring them up out of respect to us. They died in a car accident on the highway.” And the pain from the loss was just as raw as ever, which she chose to suppress as always because she couldn’t deal with the ache in her chest.
“Really, I’m sorry. I crossed a line.”
“Will you do it again?”
“If I said no, I’d be lying.”
Her irritation returned. “Speaking of lying, what about the tree delivery issue?”
He rubbed the back of his neck again. “I lied about Steve because I felt stupid for visiting without an excuse. I just threw it out there.”
She studied him, trying to read him. “No more lies?”
“I’ll be as honest as I can be. If a lie slips out, I’ll tell you.”
“Let’s agree we don’t know each other as well as we’ve assumed, okay?”
“Okay.”
She flashed him her most wicked grin, grabbing the skimpy costume and holding it up. “Like for one, I bet you never thought I’d wear this outfit.”
His shoulders tensed, as though he was ready to pounce. “Will you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The temperature of the room increased and warmed her up.
She threw the scandalous outfit back at him, and he caught it.
“As much as I’d like to hang around, I have rehearsal in town.” She folded the rest of the kids’ pageant costumes into her bag, and prepared to leave once she unplugged her iron.
“Does this mean you forgive me?”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t sure she had a solid read on him. She gathered all her things and left him standing in the living room. She’d tried to play fair, but he’d changed the rules. She wished him luck with the wrath of her sisters and only felt a little bad for abandoning him.
* * *
Griff found himself surrounded by two shrewd-eyed sisters, almost exact replicas of Hannah, even though he had no trouble telling them apart. They’d descended as soon as Hannah shut the front door.
“So what are your intentions toward our sister?” Janey leaned against a wall, deceptively calm.
He’d never been interrogated in quite this way. Growing up he’d been slapped down on hard leather sofas in fancy rooms, then elegantly questioned about his prospects. This was something entirely different. This was a family who cared. He liked this way better.
Cate shoved her sister. “Don’t be so forward with your questions.” She might be the voice of reason. “If you hurt Hannah, we’ll castrate you.”
He blanched.
She smiled a flash of vicious teeth. “See? You don’t need to be straightforward with questions. You gotta hit a man right where it hurts.”
Well, she’d done that. “I don’t have any plans to hurt her.” Even though he’d already messed up once, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to avoid doing it again. Over the years, he’d lost all semblance of the veneer he’d used growing up. He was too tired to keep it in place anymore. And he didn’t want to.
“Yeah. Men go to war over the best of intentions.” Cate examined every inch of him, a full-body assault. “You look like the kind of guy who would hurt our Hannah.”
“Maybe you aren’t giving her enough credit.” These were Hannah’s sisters, but he didn’t want them viewing her as some sort of innocent who needed their protection. They hadn’t seen her slam a knife into a cutting board.
Both sisters smiled with a crooked lift of lip.
“You don’t need to tell us about our Hannah,” Janey assured.
“She handled me fine the other night.”
Both sisters grinned.
“Oh, did she now?” Janey batted her lashes.
Flustered, he faltered. “That’s not what I meant.”
Janey sobered. “What did you say about our mother?”
All of a sudden the air shifted into something more serious. Griff wasn’t sure how to bring up that disaster. “Did she tell you about that?”
Janey shook her head. “These walls are made of paper. You don’t have to press your ear up against them to hear.”
He had the feeling their ears had been pressed up against the wall anyway. “I said she was the kind of girl who wouldn’t sleep with a man right off. She’d take him home to her mother before committing physically.”
They gasped, and shared a glare. “That was the wrong thing to say.”
“No shit. I didn’t know about your loss. I’m sorry. I apologized last night, but she was already leaving.”
They came over and each grabbed one of his arms. “She is that kind of girl. She’s also a lot more. And our parents’ death hit Hannah the hardest, not that she understands that.”
He wasn’t sure what to do with this information, but he hated that Hannah still mourned without realizing the effects it could have. She seemed so capable, but he’d seen a glimpse of the pain underneath.
“I care about her.” That wasn’t something he could deny anymore.
“Admitting that is why you’re still standing,” Janey said. “We know Hannah cares too, because she didn’t make French toast this morning.”
He had no idea how breakfast foods related to this conversation. “I want to make this right.”
“We believe you. It’s the way you look at her.” Cate punched him lightly in the shoulder. “But if you ever seriously damage our sister, you will pay for your crimes against the family. Don’t screw this up.”
He wasn’t sure he’d bet on himself. Even if he was starting to see why it was important he won Hannah over. She seemed like the contradiction he needed. She also seemed like she deserved so much more than him.
“I’m not sure I can be what she needs.”
Janey patted his arm. “Then you might have a chance.”
Mild terror intruded. It took standing in a room with Hannah’s family to understand what he had to lose. The prospect she’d walk away before he had the chance to know her better became real, which actually interested him more. He didn’t need a woman who’d let him stomp all over her. He was too jaded and it came out mean sometimes.
He needed a woman who would slap back. Words he’d never thought he’d believe. But he wasn’t getting any younger. He wanted the type of family he’d never had, with people who cared with emotions, rather than obligations. People who mourned a loss for more than the terms in a will.
Maybe he hadn’t been sure Hannah had the spine, and he’d been testing her. Not flattering of him, but then his childhood had been a series of tests by his mother. Old habits die hard. Hannah had surprised him in a very good way. He wanted to help her heal, even if he had to be sly about it. While normally the head-on approach worked with her, he knew this issue had to be approached with caution. He could handle stealth, couldn’t he
? Probably.
“This might actually work.” He hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.
Janey snorted. “I know. We’re surprised too.”
He probably should have been offended, but all of a sudden things brightened. Hannah was right for him. The lust she inspired didn’t hurt at all. How did a man know when he’d found his perfect match? Did men even sit around and think about these things? He never had when he was younger. Did this mean he lost his masculinity card for wondering?
He couldn’t deny something had been missing lately. Not that he knew what. But when Hannah was around him, she filled the something. When he was only an hour away from seeing her, things looked better. Holy hell. So this was it. The woman he’d been waiting for without even knowing it. If she forgave him.
* * *
Hannah lost herself in the plans she’d put together. “All right, places everyone.” With the various ages this wasn’t her easiest feat. The Christmas trees were already yawning and the menorah had plopped down in the center of the stage to make angels in the cotton ball snow.
“Is everyone lined up with their prospective groups?” She attempted her most diplomatic tone. She’d long ago learned the youngest groups weren’t impressed with temper. Or at least her temper, since it was mostly too subtle for even adults. She made it that way on purpose.
“Okay. Now I need the trees to get ready to enter.” She counted the heads. Two, four, six, eight, ten. No wait, nine. Two, four, six, eight, nine... Where was ten? She counted again, but still came up short.
Terror shot through her. Had anyone seen Tommy? The kid was always wandering off. She should have paid closer attention, or made sure one of the parent volunteers was watching him specifically. She should have known.
“Tommy?”
No sign of him. Shit. Losing a kid was so terribly bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. But she had to remain calm. She hadn’t necessarily lost him. Yet.
She headed over to the volunteers. “Has anyone seen a rogue tree?”
The negative shake of their heads was so very horrible. Nausea rose in her throat. Her hands trembled. Word would get out about this if she didn’t fix the problem in five seconds. The other teachers tended to dwell on the times she messed up. Not because she gave them a hard time, but because she rarely made mistakes.
For My Own: A Contemporary Christmas Anthology Page 28