Make-Believe Mistletoe

by Gina Wilkins

  “You really get into the spirit of things, don't you?” Tim asked her with a grin.

  “That's what some people would call an understatement,” Banner murmured, glancing around his living room as if thinking of the Christmas decorations that had filled nearly every inch of it.

  Lucy gave him an exaggerated frown. “At least I didn't ask you to chop anything down for this celebration.”

  “I should be grateful for small favors, I suppose.”

  She carried the games to the coffee table. “You are, however, required to participate in the festivities. I bought Yahtzee, canasta and Uno. Which one do you want to play first?”

  He might have looked more resigned than enthusiastic, but he went along, settling onto the couch while Lucy and Tim arranged themselves on the floor on the other side of the table. They chose to play Yahtzee first, and it wasn't long before Lucy and Tim were noisily cheering their luck or complaining about their lack thereof.

  A football game played on the television behind them, the sound muted but still audible. Banner had started another fire, which hissed and popped, filling the room with cheerful noises, cozy warmth, flickering light and a woodsy scent. Lucy was almost blissfully content.

  She already felt almost as comfortable with Tim as she was with her cousins. Banner, however, was a different story. While she enjoyed his company, the constant sexual attraction she felt for him made comfortable entirely the wrong adjective for her feelings toward him. There were times during the evening when she simply glanced up at him and was hit with a wave of such intense emotion it was all she could do not to leap at him.

  She felt almost like a schoolgirl with her first overpowering crush. But there was nothing girlish about the depth of her yearning for this man, she mused.

  Fingers snapped suddenly in front of her face, bringing her out of her latest romantic reverie.

  “Yo, Lucy,” Tim prompted impatiently. “Your roll.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She reached hastily for the dice cup, embarrassed to realize she had been staring hungrily at Banner-long enough for him to be looking back at her with an intensity that made more than her cheeks go hot in reaction.

  Dragging her gaze away from him, she glanced at Tim, only to find him grinning at both her and his brother with a knowing look that made her gulp and throw the dice so hard they bounced off the table and onto the floor.

  As glad as she was that Banner was embarking on a new relationship with his younger brother, there were times when three was definitely a crowd.

  With only a little effort, Banner could recall last New Year's Eve. He and Hulk had watched football, shared a pizza and a beer, and turned in at just after midnight, both expecting the new year to differ little from the one that had preceded it.

  This New Year's Eve was definitely different.

  He glanced at his coffee table, which was littered with empty hot cocoa mugs, scribbled score sheets and the remains of several junk food binges. On the other side of the room, Lucy and Tim were pouring sparkling grape juice into plastic wineglasses. Midnight was ten minutes away, and Lucy had declared it time to begin the traditional celebrations.

  She brought him a glass of grape juice, a yellow plastic horn and a silver-foil-covered party cracker. He looked skeptically at the latter. “What do you want me to do with that?”

  “Hold both ends and pull,” she instructed. “You'll find surprises inside.”

  Because she was looking at him so hopefully, he let her press the favor into his hands. If he wasn't careful, he was going to find himself following at her heels like a lapdog, he thought with a sigh of mild self-reproach. Still, the brilliance of her smile seemed to amply reward his efforts. Something about Lucy made him care about her happiness more than his own convenience, and that was a new sensation for him. A rather unsettling one, at that.

  Pushing his misgivings to the back of his mind, he took hold of the ends of the foil wrapped around a cardboard tube and gave a tug. With a popping sound, the tube opened. He reached inside to pull out a folded purple paper hat, a colorful plastic spinning top and a slip of white paper.

  “Read your fortune,” Lucy urged.

  “'New pleasures await you,”' he read obediently.

  She discreetly patted his bottom. “That sounds promising.”

  He nearly swallowed his tongue.

  Lucy had already turned to Tim. “Open yours,” she ordered.

  “Yes, ma'am,” he said, proving himself as susceptible as Banner to Lucy's bewitchery. His cracker contained a yellow paper hat, a plastic parachute man, and a fortune that read, “Your fate rests in your own hands.”

  Tim looked suspiciously at Lucy. “You didn't happen to know what fortune was in here, did you?”

  “How could I?” she responded with a laugh. “It was the luck of the draw. But it's true, you know.”

  “That's what I've been telling myself for the past few days,” he replied wryly.

  “Well?” Banner prodded Lucy, finding himself unexpectedly curious. “What's in yours?”

  Smiling at him, she pulled the ends of her cracker, giggled at the resulting pop, then dug out a green paper hat and a bracelet made of pink and green plastic beads strung on elastic thread. She promptly put on the bracelet, then read her fortune aloud. “'Persistence pays off.' Hmm. That's always sort of been my motto. Kind of eerie how fitting these were, isn't it?”

  Banner shrugged. “They're always vague enough to fit whoever reads them.”

  Ignoring his cynicism, she grabbed her wineglass. “Let's have a toast before the ball drops. Who wants to make one?”

  “You go ahead,” Banner said, picking up his own glass. Tim agreed that Lucy should be the one to make the toast.

  “Okay.” She gave her words only a moment's thought. “To Tim,” she began, lifting her glass in his direction. “May you find the path that leads you to happiness and fulfillment.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome. And to Banner,” she went on, turning to him.

  He felt the muscles at the base of his neck tense with his uncertainty about what she might say next.

  “May you learn to see yourself as the generous, talented and unique person that I see when I look at you,” she said, smiling at him in a way that made his chest ache as if he'd just been kicked. His throat tightened, making it darned near impossible for him to speak, even if he had known what to say.

  Tim watched them with an expression Banner couldn't quite read. Was Tim as surprised as Banner by the way Lucy had described him?

  Tim was probably wondering if he and Lucy knew the same guy. Banner, on the other hand, was even more concerned, now, that Lucy had created an image in her mind based on unusual circumstances-a combination, perhaps, of the holidays, the ice storm, and a powerful, and wholly unanticipated sexual attraction.

  He gave Tim a look that held a classic, and unmistakable masculine appeal for help. Tim promptly took him up on it, drawing attention away from Lucy's words by proposing one of his own. “To Lucy,” he said, lifting his glass. “Thank you for helping me reconnect with my brother, and I hope he knows how incredibly lucky he is to have met you.”

  Banner wasn't sure that sentiment was any less fraught with emotional landmines than Lucy's had been, but at least she was smiling at Tim now and not waiting for Banner to say anything. To further avoid having to do so, he tipped up his plastic glass and drank deeply, wishing it held something a bit stronger than bubbly grape juice.

  Having taken an obligatory sip of her own juice, Lucy pointed to the television screen. “The ball is starting to drop. Quick, everyone grab your noisemakers.”

  Banner thought about passing on that suggestion, but the look she gave him had him sighing and picking up the plastic horn. Definitely a bossy little thing, he thought…but he supposed he could indulge her for one more holiday.

  There was something inherently thrilling about the stroke of midnight at the dawn of a new year, Lucy thought as she began to count down alo
ng with the crowd on the screen. There were so many possibilities. So many surprises waiting to be discovered.

  “Ten…nine…”

  Tim seemed to be as excited as Lucy about the countdown. She figured that he was experiencing many of the same emotions she felt-eagerness, anticipation, hope. A little nervous about what lay ahead for him and whether he had finally found the key to his ultimate fulfillment.

  “Seven…six…”

  Banner, on the other hand, seemed to be going through the motions of the celebration. As if he was clinging to the safety and familiarity of the old year.

  “Three…two…one! Happy new year!” Lucy blew an enthusiastic blast on her plastic horn, echoed almost as heartily by Tim, and very briefly by Banner. And then she rested a hand on Banner's arm and lifted her face expectantly toward him.

  “More imaginary mistletoe?” he murmured.

  “It's customary to kiss at midnight,” she prompted him.

  “Is that right?”

  She could tell by his expression that he'd known all along. Whether he had been teasing her or simply stalling, she didn't know, but when he bent his head to press a long, firm kiss against her lips, she found she didn't particularly care.

  As far as Lucy was concerned, the new year was starting out very well. It looked as though Santa had come through very generously on her Christmas wish this time.

  They turned in an hour or so later. Tim took the guest bedroom. He didn't seem to find it particularly surprising that Lucy would be sharing Banner's bed.

  Banner closed his bedroom door, then looked a bit uncertainly at Lucy. “Sorry about my brother showing up like this. I hope it doesn't make you too uncomfortable about…well, you know.”

  “I like your brother very much. I've had a lovely New Year's Eve. And I'm not at all uncomfortable about…you know,” she teased him, sliding her hands invitingly up his chest. “Not if you're referring to the fact that you and I are lovers.”

  Apparently, lovers was another hot-button term to Banner. His eyes darkened and his face went carefully expressionless. He motioned toward the bathroom. “I'll let you have first shift at tooth brushing.”

  “You go ahead. I need to get some things out of my bag.”

  Banner was already in bed when Lucy emerged from the bathroom later. He had left the bedside lamp on for her. Lucy was satisfied that the romantically dimmed light was quite flattering to the slinky ivory silk nightgown she had purchased in Springfield for this special night.

  At the sight of her, Banner rose slowly to one elbow. The beddings were draped at his waist, leaving his chest bare. His sleek, tanned skin gleamed in the golden lamp light, making Lucy's mouth go dry.

  “You are beautiful,” he said.

  Three simple, well-worn words-and yet they made her knees go weak, and brought a lump to her throat.

  She wouldn't expect flowery compliments from Banner. He would never wax poetic or shower her with practiced flattery. What she could depend on from him was simple honesty. Banner thought she was beautiful. How could she not be swept off her feet?

  He patted the bed beside him. “What are you waiting for?”

  You, she thought. I've been waiting for you all my life.

  Without a word, she moved to join him. Banner welcomed her with open arms.

  A long time later Lucy listened to Banner's heartbeats beneath her cheek. The sound was steady and reassuring, and she thought she could happily listen to it for the rest of her life.

  The bedcoverings were tangled around them. Her expensive nightgown lay tumbled on the floor beside the bed. The bedside lamp was off now, but enough moonlight filtered through the window for her to see Banner's face when she looked up at him.

  He looked thoughtful, she decided. As though he was mulling over something very important.

  Apparently sensing her gaze on him, he glanced down. “Aren't you sleepy?”

  “No.” It wasn't a lie. Lucy was wide awake, unwilling to miss one moment of this magical night. “Are you?”

  “No.”

  Crossing her hands on his chest, she propped her chin on them. “You want to talk?”

  “About what?”

  “Maybe whatever it is that you're thinking about so seriously?”

  He lay in silence for a while longer, and she didn't press him, figuring he would talk when-and if-he was ready. After a while he cleared his throat. “When do you have to go back home?”

  “I have to be back at work next week.”

  He waited another few beats and then said, “Maybe you can give me a call next time you plan to visit your family? Maybe you could drop in to see me for a few hours.”

  Something about that awkwardly worded suggestion made her frown. “I'm not sure I understand…”

  “I thought we could see each other again sometime, if you like. I'm pretty much here all the time, and since you have to go right past here to get to your family, anyway…”

  Lucy swallowed. Hard. “And perhaps you could come visit me in Conway soon? It really isn't that far, you know.”

  “I'm not much for visiting,” he said without inflection. “You know me. I tend to be more comfortable here, with my own company. But you would be welcome anytime.”

  “How hospitable of you.” She rolled away from him, reaching for her nightgown.

  Banner pushed himself to his elbow. “Is something wrong?”

  Without answering, she pulled the nightgown over her head, feeling only somewhat less vulnerable when she was covered by the thin fabric.

  “You and I live very different lives, you know,” he said, as if sensing her disappointment with his suggestion that they see each other only on occasional, fleeting visits. “I can't imagine you would be content to give up your career and the life you've made for yourself to sit around here with Hulk and me.”

  He spoke lightly, as if expecting her to be as amused by that suggestion as he was pretending to be.

  “You're right,” she said without smiling. “I wouldn't be at all content with that.”

  “Of course not. My ex-wife nearly went crazy from boredom before she finally escaped. But maybe I'm not so bad in small doses. So you'll stop in again sometime.”

  “Like your buddy Polston,” she murmured. “A drop-in friend.”

  “It was just a suggestion.” His tone was stilted now, and he obviously regretted that he had said anything at all.

  “You know, maybe I am tired, after all,” she said, lying down with her back to him. “We'd better get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, I guess you're right. We can talk tomorrow.”

  It was going to take a lot more than talk to get through this man's thick skull, Lucy thought as she pulled the covers to her ears and frowned fiercely into the darkness. Somehow she had to figure out a way to overcome the results of a lifetime of rejections and convince Banner that he deserved much more than he was prepared to settle for.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lucy was gone when Banner woke the next morning.

  It surprised him that she had slipped out of his bed without him hearing her, since he was usually a light sleeper. The bathroom door was open, so he knew she wasn't in there. Maybe in the kitchen?

  She wasn't in the kitchen. Nor the living room, nor any other room. Her bags were gone and so was her car.

  As incredible as it seemed, at some point during the couple of hours while he had slept, Lucy had gathered her things and left his house.

  He found her note taped to the mirror in his bathroom. “Give me a call when you figure out what you really want,” it read. “And when you're ready to take the risk of asking for it.”

  His first reaction was confusion. What the hell did she mean? He'd told her last night what he wanted. He hadn't actually asked her to drop in occasionally, but he'd made it clear that he wouldn't mind if she did.

  The second emotion to hit him was anger. Why the hell had she taken off this way without any sort of warning? If she had something to say to him, she should have
said it face-to-face, not in some cryptic note.

  Most likely this was her way of ending their brief vacation fling without any unpleasantness. Making it sound as though it was his choice rather than hers, she had disappeared without messy scenes or awkward goodbyes. He supposed he should be grateful to her for keeping it so easy for him.

  But grateful wasn't even one of the many emotions swirling inside him as he glared at her neatly lettered note.

  Half an hour later he was back in the kitchen, showered, shaved and dressed. The coffee was already made, and bacon sizzled in a skillet as he cracked eggs into a bowl. This day would be no different from any other, he promised himself. Nothing in his life had changed permanently when Lucy Guerin wandered into his home. It had been nice while it lasted, but he had never expected it to last long.

  Following the scent of food, Tim wandered in yawning and finger combing his tousled hair. “Smells good.”

  “You like your eggs scrambled, don't you?”

  “Yeah. How'd you know?”

  Banner shrugged. “I've learned a few things about you in twenty-two years.”

  Tim poured coffee into the mug Banner had set out for him. “Lucy still sleeping off the sparkling grape juice?”

  Banner had braced himself for this, of course. “Lucy left this morning.”

  Obviously startled, Tim glanced at his watch. “So early?”

  “Yeah. She had things to do, I guess.”

  “Since when? Last night she was talking about watching the Rose Bowl with us today.”

  Belatedly remembering that conversation, Banner shrugged and set a filled plate on the table. “Dig in.”

  Though Tim took his seat, his attention was obviously not on the food now. “Did you guys have a fight?”

  Banner ladled eggs onto his own plate, though he wasn't at all hungry. “No. We didn't have a fight.”

  Tim laid down his fork, his expression suddenly stricken. “Did she leave because of me? Damn, Rick, I didn't mean to…”

  “It wasn't because of you, Tim. Lucy likes you. She told me so. I'm the one she has the problems with.”