by Jillian Hart
A shadow moved in the store. Spence was striding her way. He wore a black long-sleeve T-shirt and jeans. He unlocked the front door and poked his head out. He certainly looked glad to see her.
That was how she felt, too, brimming with happiness from simply seeing him. She grabbed her purse and was hardly aware of how she got to the door, only that she was with him.
“Thanks for coming this late.” He waited until she stepped inside to lock the door after her. “I want to leave the lights on low, if you don’t mind. I don’t want one of my sisters driving by and noticing the two of us here together. The next thing you know, my phone will be ringing off the hook.”
“I understand.” She felt the same way. What was happening between them was private. There was nothing more personal than matters of the heart. She slipped out of her coat. “I caught sight of you in church, but you were with your grandmother so I didn’t intrude. Did you get her home all right?”
“Sure did.” He took her coat and slung it over the back of a chair. “I worry about her in this weather. It wouldn’t take much for her to slip in the ice and break a hip. I shoveled and deiced her walkways, but more snow is forecast for tonight.”
“You take good care of your family.” This was one of the things she loved about him.
“Family is the most important thing on this earth.” His voice rang with sincerity.
He had always been deeply committed to those he loved, always faithful and serving. Nothing could be more attractive in a good man. She swooned, just a little, praying he didn’t notice. “I agree. I’m deeply-committed to everyone I love.”
“We’re more alike than I ever would have thought.”
She pulled the list out of her pocket. “We both like Mexi-fries. I never would have pegged you for a Mexi-fry eater.”
“I can be surprising. When I first met you, I couldn’t have guessed you devoted a lot of your time to helping others.”
“I can’t believe you remember meeting me. It was near inventory or something and you hardly looked at me. You couldn’t have noticed me enough to even have an impression.”
“It was May. The sun was shining. You were wearing a yellow dress, and you had your hair down and curly.” He held out his hand for the list.
“You remember all that?”
“Yep. It would be hard not to. You and Katherine hit it off, and that’s when she started bugging me about asking you out.” He took the printout from her and winced. What he should have said was I remember because when you walked into the store, it was like the sun shining for the first time.
But saying that was personal. It would be opening himself up. He didn’t like being vulnerable. He was no good at it.
Lucy, not knowing how he felt, smiled in that light, easy way of hers. “I had no idea about the bugging. No wonder you scowled so hard at me every time you saw me and invested your energy in avoiding me.”
“Katherine was determined. All my sisters are.” He glanced at the list, organized by section and title. He loved a woman who knew how to sensibly organize. “Don’t worry about the bugging. I’m immune to it.”
“Then why did you avoid me?” She walked after him into the stacks. “I mean, if you were truly immune, then whatever they said wouldn’t have bothered you, and you could have at least said hello to me once in a while.”
“I said I was immune to them, not to you.” He choked. He had gone way too far. He never meant to be so honest. It might be a good idea to close up a little and frown to compensate.
“I noticed you, too,” she said, showing all honesty. She had never looked so lovely, her eyes luminescent, her heart showing. “I remember thinking you looked like a really great man.”
“You did?” Why that shocked him, he couldn’t say. “I wasn’t nice to you.”
“Which is why I stopped thinking that. But now that I know you—” She didn’t finish, but she did blush.
What she didn’t say lingered between them, unspoken and yet somehow felt. Tenderness ebbed into him like Christmas cheer. He was a fool, he knew it, but it looked like Lucy really liked him. Why she liked him remained a mystery, but he wasn’t going to panic. Yet. Like was a long way from love. He didn’t expect her to love him, not a woman as shining and true as Lucy. That meant there were no expectations, no fears about how impossible it would be for love to last.
When he gazed down at her, the tender affection within him doubled. He didn’t want it to. He couldn’t seem to stop it. Lost in the moment, he longed for her sweetness. She was a balm to his loneliness and hurt. She made the darkness and the shadows fade.
She made his defenses weak, and he slanted his mouth over hers. He watched her eyes widen with surprise and then go dreamy. Maybe those were his secret dreams he saw in those emerald depths, not hers. He wasn’t a man who approved of dreams and there they were, silent and waiting, for him to grab hold and claim them.
He was too smart to believe in dreams, but he kissed her anyway. Or maybe he was not that strong. Either way, commitment seized him with an iron grip, leaving him committed to this fragile sunshine of a woman who could never be his.
Chapter Thirteen
Now she couldn’t get their two kisses out of her mind. Lucy sighed and checked her half of the list. The computer printout blurred. She blinked twice and still couldn’t bring the letters into focus. Impossible. All she could see was Spence at the other end of the aisle, slipping books out of their places and into the basket he held.
His powerful shoulders were set straight, his movements sure, his presence commanding. Being on the project had changed him, and those changes looked very good on him. Love shimmered inside her like light on Christmas tinsel. She had been wrong about him. She had thought he was closed off and harsh, but now she could see beneath the mask he presented to the world. She saw a much different man, a kind, amazing, strong man who never let anyone down.
Surely he would not let her down.
“How’s it coming down there?” He broke the silence between them.
“I’m almost done with my list.”
“I’m done.” He strolled her way, his basket brimming with books. “Where do you want to put all this?”
“Last year the committee chair volunteered her house for storage.”
“Then I’ll take this home with me, since I’m here in town. A huge snowstorm could blow in and trap all the presents at your house.”
“Good idea. More snow is in the forecast.”
“I can spare a few employees to help with the wrapping.”
“The more the merrier.”
“Glad we got that all squared away.” He took the heavy basket from her, their fingers brushing. Gentleness crept through him. “Are you ready to hit the toy store?”
“I’m ready for anything.”
She obviously hadn’t spent much time in the toy store during the height of the shopping season. He hiked toward his office. “I’ll be right back.”
It was nice to know that it was no longer just his eyes that malfunctioned around her, because now he had a whole new set of problems. Just like his eyes searching to keep sight of her, his ears strained for the familiar sounds of her gait on the carpet and the rustle of her movements. His brain kept going over how her face had changed after their kiss, how soft and vulnerable she had looked. That kiss had changed him, too.
Not that he wanted to think about that, though.
He stored the baskets in the corner, next to two others that were equally as full. He grabbed his coat and gloves. The store had always contributed for Christmas charity programs, but this year doing more felt right. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this satisfied and content, and Lucy had nothing to do with that.
Or at least that’s what he told himself. That’s what he had to cling to.
He was aware of every step that brought him closer to her. She stood near the front door in her coat ready to go. He felt big towering over her. She was small and dainty, and his soul hurt with a stran
ge intensity. He feared he knew why, and he did not want to cope with that either.
“Should we both drive over separately?” she asked.
“Why don’t you ride shotgun with me? I wouldn’t mind the company.”
“I wouldn’t mind either.” The way she smiled up at him made his chest seize up tight.
Panic drummed through him. What did he think he was doing? As he led the way toward the back door, where his truck was parked, he knew he was two thousand times a fool. He didn’t believe in love. He thought of Dad and Dorrie. Okay, he didn’t want to believe in love. He didn’t want to be blinded, because that’s what love did to a man.
Already it was happening. All he could see was Lucy’s beauty and charm, her vulnerability, her loving nature and nothing else. She was like a Christmas tree on Christmas morning, so lovely and breathtaking that it overpowered every shadow.
He had to remember this wasn’t real. Love could be an illusion. How was a man to tell the difference?
“It must be meaningful to be a part of a family legacy like this.” Lucy broke into his thoughts. “You must have grown up in this bookstore. You must have walked down these decorated aisles every year since you were a toddler.”
“I saw that smirk. You’re trying to imagine me as a toddler.”
“I’ve got a pretty good imagination, but even I can’t picture that.”
He liked the warmth in her voice, the melody of her tone, the way when she spoke, his spirit leaned toward her, as if yearning to hear more. “I was a pretty serious toddler.”
“I believe that.”
“I wasn’t the happiest little kid on the planet.” He shrugged away the memory and armed the security panel by the back door. Punching in numbers helped him to gloss over those hard times. “My mom wasn’t so good with toddlers.”
“Why did she have so many children?”
“She liked babies.” He held the back door for her. Cold air whipped at them.
“Babies but not toddlers. Not children?”
His throat tightened, and he couldn’t answer. He checked the lock so she couldn’t see his face. How could he tell her the truth? It was him his mother hadn’t liked.
“I’m glad you have Dorrie.” Lucy’s gloved hand settled on his.
Emotion threatened to roll over him. He set his shoulders, determined to keep it back. “She seems to tolerate me okay.”
“I tolerate you okay, too,” she said.
It sounded an awful lot like love in her tone, an awful lot like that emotion he could not trust. He put his head down, determined not to let it affect him or panic him. He twined his fingers between hers, locking their hands together.
“I hope you’re up for this, because I’m not.” He wasn’t talking about facing the jam-packed toy store.
“I am not afraid because I have you, Spence. You are a big solid man. You can bulldoze your way down the aisles.”
She could tease a smile out of him and make his fear ebb. With her smaller hand tucked safely in his, they waded through the snow together.
Lucy stood on her tiptoes and stretched as high as she could, but her fingertips could only bump the top shelf and not the box she was reaching for.
“I’ll get it.” Spence came up behind her. His nearness was dizzying as he handily hefted the boxed doll from the shelf. He took a step back, putting space between them. He was smiling, but his eyes were serious as he slid the present into one of their four carts. “See? I’m good for something.”
“I’m keeping track.” She winked at him. “Pushing carts, plowing through crowds and getting stuff off the top shelf.”
“You forgot my mathematical abilities. We still have three hundred forty-two dollars and six cents left on our budget.”
“You’re a walking calculator. You know what this means?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“I’m going to recommend you stay on the committee.”
“You think I’m going to do this again next year?” He shook his head and tossed her the grinch look. “I have a headache from all this noise. And what is that sound? There should be a law against toys that make so much noise.”
Some kid in the next aisle over was playing with something that made a piercing siren sound. Only an air-raid siren would be quieter.
She would have believed Spence’s scowl, but she knew him now. The scowl was all for show. She didn’t let it bother her.
“What’s next?” she asked instead, since he had commandeered the toy list.
“The doll clothes are the next aisle over. That way—” He nodded to their left, away from the siren sound, and grabbed two of the loaded carts, leaving her the empty ones to push. “I’m not sure, but I think the doll cradles are in that aisle, too.”
She bit her lip.
“I saw that. You’re laughing at me.” He scowled harder, pulling the cart filled with dolls. “I have a niece.”
“And you have shopped here for her more than once or twice.”
“It’s an uncle’s job. I have to buy her a lot of stuff. I’m no slacker.”
“I understand. You have a reputation to protect.”
“Exactly.” He turned the corner, avoided more doll accessory shoppers and halted in front of the cradles. He pointed mid-aisle. “The doll clothes are there.”
“I’ll do the clothes.” She leaned close to get a good look at the list. Moving closer to him made those wishes shoot like stars to the surface.
“Go ahead and take the list.” He handed it to her. “I only have two things to pick out.”
She bit her lip, watching Spence pick out cradles for some of the dolls in his cart. For the first time in over a decade, she could see her dreams with life and color: Spence picking out Christmas gifts for their little girl—
Stop that thought right there. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, willing the image away. When she opened her eyes, she focused on the racks of packaged doll clothes in front of her. She had to concentrate on what was real.
“Looks like you need help.” A few minutes later, Spence was at her side.
“You have opinions on doll fashions?”
“Madison has excellent fashion sense, and she has trained me well.” Spence did not even blush.
Her heart tumbled a little more in love with him. He would make a great dad. “I would appreciate your expertise.”
“Madison would go for pink or purple. And sparkles over plain.” He checked the list, leaning close enough that his cheek rested against her temple.
Everything within her calmed. It was like being wrapped in peace.
“Definitely go with the sparkles.” He was talking about the clothes, but all she could hear was the whispers of her dreams. Spending every day with him. Grocery shopping and book shopping and toy shopping. Cooking dinner, sharing Mexi-fries and nachos, and riding in his truck. Sharing everyday things and extraordinary moments and memories just like this.
“I’ll go with the pink dresses and the sparkly shoes.”
“Excellent choice. Madison would approve.” He moved away, but it didn’t feel as if any space separated them.
She felt closer to him as she chose the packages. He took the plastic containers from her and dumped them into one of his carts.
“Toy horses are next,” she said, hardly aware of reading the list, no longer aware of the piercing siren or the noisy store or the shoppers pushing in.
“Follow me.” He led the way down the aisle like a conquering hero.
Her heart was full. “Have you ever noticed how bossy you are?”
“I haven’t noticed it, no.” He flashed his dimples at her. “But I’ve heard that complaint before.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“I told you. I have more than a few flaws.” He was forced to stop in the main aisle due to a traffic jam. Carts were pointed every which way. Kids milled underfoot. Parents had dazed looks. “I’m suddenly reminded of Christmas shopping when I was little.”
“You were l
ike that family right there.” She gestured toward parents with four children, two girls and two boys, wide-eyed with excitement. “You were just like that older brother, trying to keep his siblings in line.”
“It’s a tough job. I have nothing but respect for that kid. I know his woes.”
“I’ve met your family. I’m sure the woes were huge.”
“There was Katherine, who was always perfect. I could count on her to be sensible, but then there was Ava.” He scowled, but he wasn’t scowling inside. “She was very unreliable. See that little girl trying to hang upside down from the shopping cart? That was Ava. I barely survived her toddlerhood.”
“You worry over her. You still do.”
“Sure she’s married and expecting, but what if she has a daughter just like her? I’ll be a bundle of nerves again.”
“You have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility.”
“That sounds about as desirable as being exposed to the bubonic plague.” The question was, would a dreamer of a woman think that was a good thing? He couldn’t see it. “What were your Christmases like growing up?”
“Stockings on the hearth and Christmas cookies to nibble on. It was a secular holiday in my family, but there was always an angel on the top of our tree and lots of family time. My dad would play Christmas songs on our piano.”
“Do you play?”
“Badly. I stopped torturing the poor instrument long ago.”
She was being modest, he was sure of it. He couldn’t imagine Lucy doing anything poorly. The carts ahead of him began to move, and he inched forward. “Our Christmases were homier after Dorrie came. She was good at all those touches: garlands on the mantel, a wreath on the door. You already know about the Christmas cookie baking session every year.”
“And I’m looking forward to it. I’ve invested in a wide variety of sprinkles to add to the cookie decoration choices. It sounds as if we both had typical American Christmases.”
“Family-centered. Faith-centered.” Remembering warmed the places in his heart, which had been cold for so long. “Every year Gran and Grandpop would crowd us into the back of their car and take us to the candlelight ceremony. It was my favorite.”