“Ah…” Eric frowned, wondering where the man would get that idea.
Butch backhanded him on the arm. “Open your eyes, boy. She can’t drive with her foot all wrapped up like that.”
Eric absently flexed his shoulder as Butch climbed back up to the driver’s bench. The old guy might be…old, but he still packed a wallop. Then his words registered. Eric’s gaze went straight to where Marissa sat, smiling up at the girls, her foot extended in front of her. He started to smile, too, unconsciously straightening.
Santa was absolutely right.
Butch gave a merry chuckle. “Got ya thinking, now, don’t I?”
Eric reached up to clasp the man’s hand with a grin of appreciation. He’d been dreading the end of the field trip without even realizing it. Now he didn’t have to figure out a clever way to see her again to collect on the invitation from earlier. When he started to back away from the wagon, Butch tossed a handful of leaves down toward him. Eric caught them, then laughed.
Mistletoe. Santa was handing out presents early this year. Eric eased the green sprig into one of his pockets, careful not to crush the precious gift.
Santa Butch winked at him before lifting the reins to urge the reindeer forward. Over his shoulder he called, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Chapter Five
To avoid staring across the lawn at Eric, Marissa concentrated on the girls. He was the ultimate picture of a man, standing there talking with Santa Butch. Dark hair, amazing gray eyes, sexy voice, a killer body, and a good dad. What was not to like?
And yet, she still couldn’t believe her own provocative words earlier. I like your thinking.
Sure, he’d been staring at her still-tingling mouth, but it didn’t mean he fantasized about a repeat of the mistletoe kiss like she had been. A much more private repeat—especially now that she knew he wasn’t married.
But to pretty much outright invite another kiss? She didn’t do things like that anymore. Just the thought of getting involved with a man again made her heart beat faster. She’d managed not to think about it much over the past few years—kept too busy on purpose. It had been a long time, and heaven help her, as attracted as she was to Eric, it scared the daylights out of her.
Good, God, live a little! No wonder you haven’t had a date in three years.
“Your dad is fun.”
Heather’s words registered on Marissa’s conscious just as Reese replied, “I know. I wish I could stay with Daddy all the time.”
Marissa tore her gaze away from Eric at the dark haired little girl’s plaintive words. The two had moved away a few feet and were talking to each other in their own little world.
“I live with my mom ‘cause my dad’s always busy,” Heather said matter-of-factly. “He never bothers with stuff like this.”
“Daddy works a lot, too. Mom says he doesn’t have time for me and that’s why he only comes to see me every other weekend.”
Marissa’s heart ached for both little girls who so obviously needed their fathers. She usually made excuses for Ted to Heather to spare her daughter’s feelings and protect her. Judging by Heather’s choice of words, Marissa hadn’t succeeded—or maybe it was that Ted hadn’t fooled her? Either way, she didn’t like it.
The fear she’d tried to squash moments ago breathed new life. Things were so different from her college years when she’d dated and had fun. There was so much more at risk now than just her heart.
Her gaze strayed to Eric, who backed toward them, still in conversation with Santa Butch. He appeared the perfect dad today. Except from the sound of Reese’s words, it was nothing but an act to look good in front of everyone. Hadn’t she seen the evidence when he couldn’t be counted on to show up on time to fulfill his responsibilities? When he didn’t even bother to apologize to his daughter or the people he’d inconvenienced?
Considering her past experience, she should’ve seen it coming instead of being blinded by physical reactions. A picture of Ted flashed in her mind. These damn men had no clue what they were doing to their kids. Or if they did, they sure as hell didn’t seem to care.
Across the grass, the school bus pulled into the parking lot. A quick glance at her watch confirmed it was time to go home. A weak wave of relief gave way under an overpowering swell of unwelcome disappointment.
Exasperated at the second emotion, Marissa yanked her bag from under her calf. She grimaced when her foot hit the dirt, but the jolt of pain to her ankle mirrored the reality check she’d just received.
Yes, Eric Riley was sinfully good-looking, and yes, thank God he’d saved her daughter on the giraffe platform, but even that only served to point out the danger in losing her focus on what was important—Heather.
Slinging the handles of her bag over her shoulder, she pushed up off the ground. Thanks to inconsiderate people, she still had a lot of work to do tonight and—
“Let me give you a hand.”
Eric’s deep voice reached her ears just before his boots and camouflaged pants entered her peripheral vision. She had no time to protest as one large hand grasped her elbow, another slid along her waist; both lifted. Sensation rocketed through her at his mere touch. Awareness heightened when she stood beside him, her shoulder against his chest. He’d released her arm, but the warm hand on her waist slipped low to rest on her hip.
The elusive pine scent from earlier teased her nostrils. Him, her imagination, or the tree they stood beneath? She inhaled discreetly. Clean, fresh pine unspoiled by underlying chemicals of cologne left her unable to confirm the origin of the fragrance. The only way to be sure would be to bury her nose against his skin. Her gaze zeroed in on the tan column of his neck, and she swayed slightly.
“Mom, do we have to go home now?”
Eric’s hand steadied her. Marissa jerked her head toward her daughter.
“You good?” Eric asked in a low tone close to her ear.
His warm breath stirred her hair, sending a shiver down her back. When she realized he’d asked if she had her balance on her uninjured foot, Marissa nodded, not trusting her voice for fear it would betray her like the rest of her body. The fingers on her hip flexed briefly before they fell away. She missed his touch almost immediately.
She clenched her jaw in frustration. How ridiculous. He was just a man. So what if he was sexy as hell, she’d decided years ago never to depend on the male species again. Especially one who wasn’t there for his kid.
She limped a step away from Eric and turned to Heather. “Yes, honey, it’s time to go home.”
“Aw, mom, I want to play with Reese yet.”
“You’ll see Reese at school on Monday,” Marissa said.
The summer school teacher detoured in their direction on the way to the bus with her group of kids. “Eric, is it safe to assume Reese will be riding home with you?” Patti asked.
He put his hands on Reese’s shoulders. “She will. Thanks for checking.”
Patti turned to Marissa, her expression contrite. “I can’t thank you enough for your help today, though I’m very sorry about your ankle.”
“It’s not your fault. And I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” Marissa assured her. “I had a great time with the girls today.”
Not to mention one heck of a kiss under the mistletoe, a small voice in her head reminded.
Patti smiled, her glance swinging toward the idling bus. “Ultimately, that is what matters most. We’d better get going before they leave without us. See you on Monday.”
“Bye.” After the teacher left, Marissa took a deep breath to face Eric. Time to say goodbye to him too, before she went completely insane and forgot she’d changed her mind about him. The moment she met his smiling, smoky gray gaze, her pulse jerked. Too bad her body hadn’t gotten the memo from her brain yet. “Maybe we’ll see you at school sometime.”
Bewilderment clouded his eyes at her intentionally casual statement. And no wonder after the way she’d flirted before the reindeer wagon rides. Embarr
assment warmed her cheeks with the remembrance.
“Actually,” he said, “I’m thinking you two need a ride home.”
Heather clapped in excitement. “Please, Mom, please?” she begged. “Can we ride home with them?”
“Please, Mrs. Wilder?” Reese added.
Marissa resisted their enthusiasm; somewhat annoyed he’d make the suggestion in front of the girls. She forced a polite smile to her lips and said pointedly to Eric, “I have my car here, remember?”
“You can’t drive with a sprained ankle,” he countered. When she opened her mouth to argue, he quietly added, “It wouldn’t be safe for Heather.”
She shut her mouth and stared toward the parking lot. He was right. She might not be able to slam on the brakes if something unexpected happened, not to mention accelerating wouldn’t be too fun, either. How had he known to bring up Heather’s safety before anything else?
Any good parent thinks of their child first.
Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt…
Marissa stomped on that thought. Damn it, no. She wasn’t going to overlook the fact that his daughter needed him more than he made himself available. Just because she made excuses for Ted’s irresponsibility to spare her daughter’s feelings didn’t mean she accepted him constantly letting their little girl down. It was no different with Eric.
“How am I supposed to get my car home?” she argued half-heartedly, knowing they’d be riding home with him and Reese no matter what.
“I’ll get a ride back here tomorrow to get yours and then I can drop it by your house.”
It made perfect sense, but, gol-darn it, why’d he have to be so nice about it when she’d rather argue?
“It’s the least I can do after messing up your whole day.”
See? His consideration joined forces with her physical attraction, chipping away at her defensive indignation for his daughter. It didn’t help that both girls waited expectantly, Heather’s expression reminiscent of the one she wore every Christmas morning.
“Since it sounds like everything’s settled, I guess we should get going,” Marissa said.
Heather and Reese let out whoops of joy and raced toward the parking lot.
“Slow down,” Eric called. “Wait by the edge of the grass.”
Marissa tried to ignore her unwelcome anticipation and limped after them.
“Is everything okay?” Eric asked from beside her. “You seem upset for some reason.”
She kept her gaze focused on the ground. “I’m just a little tired.”
Coward. If she were smart, she’d tell him exactly what she thought of him and get rid of any attraction once and for all.
“I’d be happy to carry you,” Eric offered, his tone a little deeper than before, even though she could hear a grin in his voice.
Her stomach did a somersault and she quickly snapped, “I’m fine.”
He didn’t speak the rest of the way to his truck, his confusion tangible in the silence. She did her best not to feel guilty, because, really, she had nothing to feel bad about. After lifting the girls into the back of his extended cab and making sure they were buckled tight, he stepped out of the way so she could climb up, but didn’t offer assistance. Marissa told herself that was fine with her. He closed her door and walked around the front to settle in the driver’s seat.
“Where we headed?” He started the truck to reverse from the parking spot.
Marissa gave him their address a couple miles northeast of Pulaski, the girls’ whispers and giggles in the back seat their background music.
“That’s only a couple miles from my house.” Eric navigated onto the state highway. “If you don’t mind stopping, I’m almost positive I have a pair of crutches in my basement from when my sister broke her leg a few years ago. You might want to use them until you can see your doctor on Monday.”
Much as she wanted to get home, crutches would definitely help, so she nodded. Fifteen minutes later, when they turned onto an older residential street, Reese’s head popped up between the seats. “We’re going to our house? Cool! Can I show Heather my room?”
Eric glanced up into the rearview mirror. “Sit back in your seat, Reese. We’re only stopping for a minute, Mrs. Wilder is tired.”
“Aww, man,” both girls chorused with disappointment.
Marissa loved how he put it on her. Earlier he’d been the fun one and now she ruined everything because she was tired. Biting back a sigh of annoyance, she resigned herself to a little longer enduring her conflicting emotions in his presence. “I guess we could stay for a couple minutes.”
The moment he turned into his driveway, a beautifully carved sign next to his mailbox caught her attention. Riley Custom Creations. When they rounded a corner of the drive, all it took was one look at the log house set back on the wooded lot, and she wanted her own tour.
“Wow, this is beautiful.”
“Daddy and Uncle Mark built it,” Reese announced.
Marissa raised her brows. “Really?”
“It’s a work in progress,” Eric said.
“Daddy also makes tables and chairs and stuff,” Reese added.
Eric hit the button on the visor for the automatic garage opener, but parked outside while the stall door in front of them rose. After he opened the truck door, Reese climbed out so fast he barely got out of his seat.
“Come on, Heather, let’s go!”
Marissa couldn’t help a smile at their excitement. It was hard to believe the two had only met at summer school three weeks ago, thanks to a realignment of the school district boundaries.
“Those two are like miniature tornados,” Eric muttered with a grin when they’d disappeared inside. In direct contrast to his lack of assistance getting her into the truck, now he hurried around to her side and grasped her elbow to steady her on the climb down. Awareness raced along her limbs. Her skin tingled from the warmth of his touch.
“Come put your foot up in the living room while go I dig those crutches out of the downstairs closet.”
He slowly led her through the garage and kitchen, to an open-concept living room with huge picture windows on one side, and a railed loft above. Giggles and thumps could be heard up an iron and half log staircase to the right of the loft, revealing the location of Reese’s room.
Marissa stared at the gently spiraling staircase in amazement. Completely unexpected in a log home, somehow it looked just right.
“Make yourself at home.” Eric pointed to a dark brown couch. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He disappeared down a second set of spiral stairs, which must lead to a basement. Curiosity brought her to one of the windows instead of the couch. It appeared the basement was a walkout because to her right there was a large, split-level porch off the kitchen, with steps leading down to a patio directly below where she stood. A swing set and play area for Reese sat on one side of the expansive backyard, and another log structure dominated the other side. A sign identical to the one by the mailbox hung above a set of double doors, identifying the structure as Eric’s workshop.
His grass needed mowing, and a pile of sawdust and leftover wood pieces covered the workshop porch, but otherwise the backyard looked like a picture out of a country homes magazine. She pivoted slowly to take in the carpeted living room, loving the knotty pine walls and a fieldstone fireplace. Her glimpse of the kitchen left her equally impressed by its bright, spacious dining area, a gorgeous hunter green tile countertop and stunning cabinets that glowed rich amber beneath their varnish.
She’d love to go into his kitchen to explore, but her ankle had begun to throb again, so she made her way to the couch and sat down. Her gaze continued to take in the nuances of the space around her, and she realized with surprise that beyond the actual house itself, he hadn’t done much with the place. Yet, because of the beauty of the wood, the bare walls and tabletops were not immediately noticeable.
The empty end table between the couch and a worn chair caught her attention. Made
of a square of wood and four black iron legs, it was a simple design, but after one look at the top, she knew she wouldn’t want to put anything on it, either. Fall colored leaves of red, orange and yellow spilled across the unstained pine wood that was covered with coats of varnish until no leaf tip or stem marred the surface. She ran her fingers across it, enjoying the cool, silky smoothness beneath her touch.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs a moment before Eric reappeared from the basement with the crutches in hand.
“Is this one of yours?” Marissa asked, still caressing the table.
“That is Reese’s accidental creation,” he said, standing next to the couch by her. “I had other plans for the top, but last fall she brought in an armful of leaves as I was working and dropped them on the table so she could show me her favorite one.” He pointed to a brilliant red maple leaf. “We finished the table together, and she decided it needed to be right here so I’d think about her when she’s at her mother’s.”
His expression told her he cherished the memory and she thought about how Ted never did anything like that with Heather. More conflicting evidence to shake her weakening resolve not to get involved with Eric. The heart of the problem was that her past-biased inner arguments didn’t stack up against the proof in front of her face.
“It’s a great piece,” Marissa said past the sudden lump in her throat.
“Thanks. We think so, too.” Eric lifted a crutch. “You want to give these a try?”
Marissa stood up and fit them under arms, but they were a little too high until Eric adjusted them. After taking a turn around the living room, she gave him a reluctant yet grateful smile. “These really help, thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Hi, Mom.”
She looked up to see Heather and Reese grinning over the loft railing at them. “Hey. Come on down now, we need to get going.”
“Aw, Mommm. Can’t we stay longer?”
Marissa shook her head. “Sorry, honey—”
“You really should stay off your feet for tonight,” Eric interrupted. “Why don’t you stay, and I’ll order dinner for all of us.”
Mistletoe Mischief Page 4