HOLLY AND MISTLETOE

by Susan Mallery

  She paused to take a breath. He realized she was babbling, and hoped that was a good sign. She seemed more nervous than angry. He moved closer, then leaned against the doorjamb to steady himself.

  "I don't want to talk about the dining room," he said. "I want to talk about why you're avoiding me."

  She gasped softly and ducked her head. He could see the color climbing her cheeks. "You know why."

  At least she'd admitted it. That was something. "Holly, I don't—"

  She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I understand."

  "No, you don't."

  "I do. It's silly, really. My only excuse is that while my mother was ill, I took care of her. One of the nurses told me once that chronically ill people don't have much human contact. Oh, they're bathed and fed, but no one touches them just because. They need that contact. It keeps them connected and feeling alive. I did that for years. I guess it's a habit."

  She turned her attention from the wall to him. Her mouth twisted. "Pretty stupid, huh, but I swear it's the truth."

  "I appreciate your honesty, but I don't know what the hell you're talking about. What exactly are you apologizing for?"

  Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she got the words out. "You want me to say it?"

  "If it's not too much trouble." At her look of incredulity, he shrugged. "I had a fever last night. I don't remember what happened."

  "You don't remember?" Her voice rose in volume and pitch. She spun on her heel and began to pace the room. "He doesn't remember. I don't sleep the whole night, and he doesn't remember. Great. Just perfect. I knew it. I'm not ready to be out in the world. This proves it. I should have become a nun."

  When she passed in front of him, he grabbed her arm and held her in place. "Would you please tell me what you're talking about?"

  She drew in a deep breath. "You had a fever. I was trying to cool you off."

  "So?"

  "I was … touching you."

  Where? For how long? Had she liked it? He was sure he had. His blood heated on cue and headed south. He released her arm, but she didn't move away. "And?"

  "And, that's it. I used a washcloth and wiped off your face and chest." Her gaze lowered to the floor.

  "Wish I'd been conscious," he muttered.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. I appreciate the concern and the effort. So what's the problem?"

  She linked her fingers together in front of her stomach, then released them. "You were sort of asleep and then you woke up."

  Now it was Jordan's turn to be embarrassed. Had he made a pass at her or worse, although he wasn't sure what would be worse. Maybe he'd flashed her.

  "And," he prompted.

  "And, well, you said I was the touchingest nurse you'd ever been around."

  "And?"

  "What do you mean 'and?' Isn't that enough? You said if you didn't know better, you would think I was making a pass at you."

  He searched his brain for some other meaning to her words. "I don't think I understand."

  "I was touching you," she shrieked.

  "What's the problem? I happen to like you touching me."

  She gave a strangled moan and sank slowly to the floor. After drawing her knees to her chest, she lowered her head until he couldn't see her face. "I just want to die."

  Jordan tried to crouch next to her, but it hurt too much. Awkwardly he lowered himself to the floor and braced his sore back against the wall.

  "I'm really sorry," Holly murmured. "It's really all because of my mom. I was just so used to taking care of her that I—" She paused and looked at him. "I said this already, huh?"

  "Yeah."

  She nodded. "I just didn't want you to think…" Her voice trailed off.

  "Think what?"

  She shook her head as if indicating she couldn't speak. Jordan tried to understand her state of mind, but he didn't know what the big deal was. So she'd touched him. So he'd commented on the fact. It was hardly a hanging offense.

  He stretched his legs out in front of him, then winced as the injured muscles protested. He placed his palm on her arm, then slid down until his hand was over hers. That seemed to give her courage.

  "I didn't want you to think I was coming on to you," she said. "That never crossed my mind."

  "Bummer."

  "What?" She stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You can't be serious."

  "Why not? I'd love to have you come on to me." He tugged on her hand until she relaxed enough to let him lace his fingers with hers, then he rested their joined hands on his left thigh.

  She stared at him. "But I'm… But you're…" She shook her head. "You're teasing me, right?"

  "Nope."

  "But I'm not sexy. I don't even know how to be sexy. I'm inexperienced to the point of being stupid around men, and I'm fifteen pounds overweight."

  He forced himself to keep staring at her face when what he really wanted to do was drop his gaze to her breasts. "Don't you dare lose a pound. You're perfect."

  Conflicting emotions raced through her eyes. He could see she wanted to believe him but she didn't dare. Jordan frowned. Why didn't Holly know she had the ability to turn him on? Had someone hurt her that badly? Animal rage surged inside him. If a man had caused her to doubt herself, he would find him and punish him.

  "Wow," she said. "That was pretty amazing."

  "What?"

  She shrugged. "Your family mentioned you were the brooding one in the group. I didn't believe them. You've always been so friendly. But just now you got this look on your face."

  "Sorry. I was thinking about something else."

  "I could tell." She stared at him. "Do you really brood?"

  "Sometimes." But not around Holly. When he was with her, he forgot about being on the outside looking in. With her, he belonged.

  Warning lights began to flash, but he ignored them. He knew his friendship with Holly was dangerous, but he was willing to risk it. After all, it was just temporary. When she could afford her own place, she would move out and disappear from his life. So it was safe to enjoy the short time they had together.

  She shifted and sat cross-legged. His knees hurt just thinking about trying that position.

  "Jordan, do you really think I'm sexy?" She shook her head. "Sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I'm not fishing for compliments. I've just never thought of myself that way. I've never been involved with a man, so I don't know how they think."

  It took every ounce of self-control not to pull his hand free of hers. Jordan sat very still, trying to absorb what Holly had just said. She'd never been involved with a man. No way could she mean that. He'd suspected she was innocent, but not that innocent.

  "By 'never,' you mean less than ten or something, right?" he asked desperately.

  She stared solemnly. "'Never' as in 'none.' I had a boyfriend when I was fifteen. That lasted for a couple of months. He even kissed me a few times, but it wasn't anything like when you and I did." Her voice got lower and lower. "Then my mom was diagnosed with the cancer, and I didn't have a lot of extra time to spend with him. He didn't understand."

  "Teenage boys are notoriously selfish," he said. "I know. I was one once." He shifted his hand so he could brush his thumb back and forth across her palm.

  She smiled at him. "I tried to understand. In my head it made sense. We were both young. He wanted to have fun. There was this dance, and I was supposed to go with him. But my mom was just out of the hospital. I was scared she was going to die. I didn't want to leave her alone, so I told him I couldn't go."

  He could hear the pain in her words. Jordan released her hand and draped his arm around her shoulders. At first she stiffened, then slowly she relaxed against him. Her head rested on his chest.

  "He took someone else," he said quietly.

  She nodded. "This girl. Colette. Can you imagine a fifteen-year-old named Colette? I blamed her because that was easier than facing the truth. After the dance he stopped calling me. We never went out aga
in."

  He rested his chin on the top of her head and ignored the beat from her hand resting on his thigh. "Who was next?"

  She sniffed. "No one. That's the entire story of my love life. Pretty pathetic, huh?"

  "You didn't date?"

  "I tried, but not a lot of single guys came into the antique store. I went to the local junior college, but I didn't have extra time to socialize. Just when I thought it was all going to be okay, the cancer came back."

  "I'm sorry," he murmured.

  "Thanks. I'm fine with most of it. Mom and I never wasted time with each other. We got to say goodbye. A lot of people don't get that chance. I do regret how I grew up. I had to do it fast, and I missed out on a lot of stuff like dating."

  It was worse than he'd thought. If she'd only dated one guy when she was fifteen, then she was a virgin. He winced at the word. So much for a quick affair. He wasn't usually the type, but he would have made an exception for Holly. Now he couldn't. She was too innocent.

  "You're twenty-eight?" he asked.

  "Twenty-eight and never been kissed." She laughed and glanced up at him. "Well, I've been kissed, but I've never done anything else. I've never even seen a man naked."

  She squeezed her eyes shut and ducked her head. "Oh, my, I can't believe I said that."

  Jordan was having a little trouble with it, too. He was torn between running for cover and volunteering his services. Between the subject matter of their conversation and her nearness, he could give her an eyeful. Hell of a time to develop a conscience.

  "What are your plans?" he asked. "Find some nice guy, get married and have a couple of kids?"

  "I'd like to, but I don't think it's going to happen. I haven't had great luck with relationships."

  "One relationship isn't enough to judge."

  She straightened and looked at him. "That's a kind of luck. Relationships require trust, and I'm not very good at that."

  "You had a good one with your mom."

  She smiled. "It's hardly the same thing, but yes, we did have fun together. When she was feeling well, she used to take me places. We got great at having a good time with no money. We went to exhibits and parks. The free day at the zoo."

  A single strand of hair slipped onto her cheek. Holly brushed it away impatiently. "She used to take all the holidays seriously. Half the garage was filled with decorations. Not just for Christmas, but for all of them. We had painted pumpkins for Halloween, decorated flags for May Day, stuffed hearts for Valentine's. On her last Christmas she gave me Mistletoe."

  It was as if the cat heard her name. The gray, flat-faced spawn of the devil strolled into the dining room. Her belly hung low, and she walked with a rolling gait.

  "Hi, sweetie," Holly cooed as she reached out to pet her cat. Mistletoe sat down to accept the attention. As she purred, she glared at Jordan.

  "That cat hates me," he muttered.

  "I don't know why. She's normally very friendly."

  "Sure. That's why she spends the afternoon spitting at me."

  "She does not."

  "Sure, she does. She knows exactly when I'm nearly asleep, and she comes in and hisses. Once I'm awake, she leaves." He glared back at the cat.

  "She really likes Kyle."

  "That proves my point."

  Holly laughed.

  Mistletoe rose to her feet and gave a quick pftt before heading out. As she passed by Jordan's feet, she swiped out with her right front paw. He pulled back just in time to avoid being skewered.

  Mistletoe raised her tall to a saucy angle and sauntered out of the room.

  "She's a miserable animal. I hope she doesn't pass her personality on to her kittens."

  "She's sweet," Holly protested. She stared after her cat. "But I have to admit, she doesn't like you much." She smiled at him. "So I'm even more grateful that you let me bring her with me. And thanks for letting me be here, too. I don't want you to think I'm going to be in the way for the holiday stuff."

  "You won't be in the way. The family is huge and one more only means more fun."

  "Thanks. Work keeps me busy during the day, but nights are hard. Especially at this time of year. Okay, okay, enough emotion. I don't want to get all weird and cry or embarrass you."

  "I don't embarrass that easy."

  "I do."

  "I noticed."

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "So you're not mad at me anymore?"

  "I was never mad. Just confused." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He wanted to do a whole lot more, but that seemed the safest at the moment. "Friends?"

  "I'd like that." She scrambled to her feet. "So what do you think about the wallpaper?"

  As she discussed his various options, he thought about all she'd told him. She'd been alone for a long time. Even before her mother had died, Holly had been responsible for too much. He couldn't change her past, but he could give her a Christmas to remember. He vowed then to make that dream come true.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  Holly glanced around her store in amazement. She and her mother had often talked about what they wanted A Victorian Parlor to be. They'd discussed the separate rooms, a formal parlor set up in the front, alcoves of decorative items, paintings, several tables with wallpaper and fabric samples. Furniture was scattered throughout the store, but the majority of it was in the huge room to the rear. As they'd planned, she'd filled the store with soft lighting and homey scents. From the moment she'd put the sign up and opened her doors, business had been good. In the past couple of weeks it had become spectacular, and she knew exactly who was responsible. Jordan.

  Even on a Thursday afternoon the shop was crowded. Women clustered together in groups and cooed over the ornaments displayed on several Christmas trees. Her wreath inventory was down by half. If business kept up at this pace, she would sell out before Christmas. She was thrilled about all the sales.

  In order to keep prices down, she'd bought in as high a quantity as she could afford. The purchases had drained her financial reserves to zero. When she'd worried about making a wrong decision she'd consoled herself with the fact that the Christmas items wouldn't spoil. What she didn't sell this year, she would sell next. In fact, part of her plan had been to buy two years' worth of inventory. Instead, she was selling it all in one year.

  The front door opened, and a handsome couple walked in. The man was tall, maybe six feet four, with dark hair and an earring glinting from his ear. He looked dangerous, the kind of man who was deadly to women and their hearts. The woman also had dark hair, but hers was curly and long, nearly to her waist. She was slender and dressed in a wool jumper over a long-sleeved white blouse.

  Holly studied them for a moment and realized she'd seen them when she'd first visited Jordan in the hospital.

  The woman caught her eye and smiled, then started in her direction. She glanced at the tag on Holly's apron.

  "You must be Holly. I recognized you from Elizabeth's description," she said. "I'm Rebecca Lucas, and this is my husband, Austin."

  The three of them shook hands.

  "Thanks for stopping by," Holly said, then motioned around the store. "Are you looking for anything in particular, or do you want to browse?"

  Rebecca glanced at her husband. "You want to run for the hills, don't you?"

  Austin shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Too much girl stuff. And it smells weird in here."

  Holly laughed. "Most men feel that way. If you head toward the back and through the room with the furniture, you'll find an alcove with coffee, a couple of chairs and a TV. Most of the husbands hide out there."

  "Go on," Rebecca urged. "I want to get some decorations for the house and have a chat with Holly."

  Austin looked at his wife for a moment. Holly saw a flash of love so bright, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. He touched Rebecca's face. The tender gesture was at odds with his dark and dangerous appearance. Then he turned and headed for the back room.


  Rebecca stared after him. "I know what you're thinking. I used to picture him as a pirate and wish he'd kidnap me and hide me on his desert island. But behind that tough exterior is a very gentle man."

  "If you say so," Holly murmured, wondering how someone as innocent looking as Rebecca had tamed such a hard man. She pushed the thought from her mind. "Do you want something particular for your house?"

  Rebecca tilted her head. "Elizabeth told me your wreaths were beautiful. I'd like a couple for the foyer. And maybe some ornaments for the tree."

  "The wreaths are on all the walls. Everything I have is out. Do you have a particular theme? I have angel wreaths, toy wreaths, some with fruit, plain, fancy, whatever you're looking for."

  Rebecca laughed. "I'm not organized enough to have a theme. I just want something pretty." She glanced around at the crowded store. "You've got plenty of other customers. Go ahead and help them while I look around."

  Holly saw a couple heading for the cash register, so she excused herself. For the next half hour she rang up purchases and wrapped delicate ornaments. Then the crowd faded. Holly saw Rebecca talking to another couple. Even if they hadn't introduced themselves, she would have recognized the man as pure Haynes. He had the tall, dark good looks of all the brothers. There was a bit of gray at his temples, a few more lines, so Holly guessed he was the oldest. She was right. Craig and his petite redheaded wife, Jill, were in town for a few days.

  Rebecca saw her and motioned her over. "Have you met these two?"

  Holly nodded. "They introduced themselves when they first came in." She smiled at Jill. "When's the baby due?"

  Jill touched her rounding belly. "May. I wish it were tomorrow. I remind myself she'll be worth it, but the waiting is hard."

  "I remember how that feels," Rebecca said. "Are the boys excited about getting a sister?"

  "Very," Jill said. "Danny is so thrilled he won't be the youngest anymore." She leaned against her husband, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

  Holly ignored the flicker of envy that filled her, Holidays were the worst, she told herself. Since her mother had died, she'd really felt alone at Christmas. But soon it would be the first of the year, and everything would return to normal.