“Can you blame me? I’ve told you about the stuff that’s happened this time of year.”
“I don’t think your Barbie Dream House getting crushed by a falling Christmas tree has anything to do with Christmas per se, do you?”
“The roof crashed through to the first floor.” Liza clapped her right hand down hard on top of her left. She would never forget the sound of the roof collapsing. Her holiday was ruined. “What about the year I studied abroad in Paris and I got stranded during my layover at Heathrow due to a freak blizzard? I had to sleep in the airport through Christmas day.”
“Okay, that was bad, but you realize it has nothing to do with—”
“And remember the guy I dated in college sophomore year who broke up with me nine days before Christmas because he had heard that that was the latest you could break up with someone before the holidays? He ruined my winter break.”
“What a creep.”
“And I got food poisoning from the eggnog they served at the Winter Street Fest last year. I missed Beautiful Blooms’ holiday open house.”
“Yeah, that was awful. Several people suffered from it. I think that vendor is banned from the street fest this year.”
“And let’s not forget my wreck.”
Liza rubbed her hand over her upper thigh and, in a flash, it all came back to her. Waking from a coma Christmas morning in the hospital, her mom slumped in a chair, sound asleep, and Liza unable to speak because of the tube down her throat. Memories of surgeries, traction, and weeks of rehab would never leave her. The last thing she remembered before waking up was Bret’s cutting words, humiliating her in front of his friends. Everything else—the icy roads, extracting her body from the car using the Jaws of Life, her totaled car—had been filled in by her family.
“Okay, I get it. You’ve had terrible luck this time of year, but what does that have to do with who Tucker and—”
“He needs help, okay?”
“I doubt he needs help getting a date. Have you seen him?”
His diet and work-out regiment had definitely paid off. He was no longer big, dumpy Tucker, but hot, built Tucker who could have his pick of the ladies. Liza pressed her fist into the fire burning beneath her diaphragm as she glanced over the bid sheets.
“Look, my cousin, Diana, and her boyfriend threatened to go to the committee to volunteer to be Mr. and Mrs. Claus. There’s no way Barbie and Ken are going to have the honors. I said Tucker was going to do it and would announce who Mrs. Claus was going to be tonight. I have to help him find someone—and fast—before Diana throws this all back in my face.”
“Why don’t you do it?”
“Play Mrs. Claus?” Riley had clearly lost her mind. “Didn’t we just go over the fact that I really dislike this time of year?”
“But you’d help out Tucker.”
“He asked me, but I said no. Believe me, something would go wrong. There has to be someone here tonight he could ask.”
As they walked back toward the bar where Liza would work all evening, she surveyed the room, trying to figure out who would be a suitable Mrs. Claus.
“I don’t think I’ve met Diana.” Riley stopped in front of the old cafeteria window that now acted as a bar. Liza went inside and leaned her elbows on the shiny, stainless steel counter-top across from her.
“Trust me, you won’t want to meet her. She’s going out with Bret Bridges now. He was sort of nice to me last night, but I don’t know why.” Liza opened a sleeve of cups and stacked them one-by-one into neat, red towers beside the tap. “I’ve told you how my mom and Aunt Linda always forced Diana and me together growing up, even dressed us in the same clothes, like we were twins. They’d put us in little frilly dresses and Diana’s would stay pristine all day but I’d spill red Kool-Aid on mine within minutes. She just annoys me, okay?”
“I have a feeling you spilled the Kool-Aid on purpose.”
“Maybe.” They shared a conspiratorial smirk. Maybe subconsciously she had ruined their matching outfits so her mother was forced to change her into something different. She’d never really considered it before. She just figured she was the klutz and Diana was the graceful one. Even the night of the wreck, Diana had managed to escape with only a bump on the head and a broken wrist.
“They’re moving back to Highland Springs, so now I’ll have to see their perfection all the time.” Liza rolled her eyes.
“I can’t wait to meet them.” Riley’s smile couldn’t hide the sarcasm.
Like a magnet to steel, Liza’s gaze shifted toward the entryway where Diana and Bret stood, dressed like the cover of a holiday catalog. “Now’s your chance. There they are.”
Diana’s deep brunette hair was pulled back in a classic chignon and she wore a red dress with white faux fur around the neckline. At least Bret wasn’t dressed like Santa with a long red coat and wide black belt, but he was close enough. He wore black corduroy pants and a red pull-over. They were so determined to take on the roles, they even dressed the part.
“I better give some suggestions to Tucker before those two talk to the committee. Over my dead body will they be Mr. and Mrs. Claus.”
She looked past Riley at the sudden influx of people filing into the activity room. The auction would soon be under way, beginning with a thirty-minute meet and mingle period. A long queue was forming in front of the window, leaving her no time to worry about Tucker. While she poured a foamy pint of beer and waited for payment, she scanned the room. She found Tucker surrounded by Kacy, Holli, and Mandy, who were all up for auction. Surely he wouldn’t pay good money for a date with any of them. They were definitely not Mrs. Claus material.
Her chest burned again, like it had a few minutes ago. She had to lay off the spicy food for a few days. She kept her eyes on the beer tap and wine bottles, and not the three women vying for Tucker’s attention. Any of them as Mrs. Claus made her indigestion flare—there had to be a better option. She glanced toward him as she handed a glass of wine through the window. Kacy was dragging her long nails down his sleeve. When his shoulders pumped up and down with laughter, the nagging burn in her chest became a hot fire poker. Holli laid her hand at the small of his back and Liza pressed her fist between her breasts to help ease the pain.
Tucker looked so different from the guy everyone knew. His wide, muscular shoulders tapered down to a trim waist and his new jeans accentuated his firm butt. He’d been so rough and dumpy for so long, even Liza hadn’t realized such a hot guy had been hiding beneath the scruff. He sounded and acted like himself, but had been replaced by an Adonis in blue jeans. He was too good for any of those women. Between his successful business, his great personality, and his new, too-hot-for-Highland-Springs body, he had risen to Most Eligible Bachelor status and would have every single lady in the county after him. She would just have to protect him from the hungry pack of she-wolves before he made a mistake.
***
“Interviewing the future Mrs. Claus?” Liza slammed a roll of plastic cups on the metal table, causing several heads to turn as Tucker entered the kitchen. He had only left her alone for a few minutes, so why was she in such a foul mood? He hadn’t totally shirked his bartending duties.
“No, just talking. Sorry I wasn’t here for the early rush.”
“I handled it.” She brushed past him and picked up a case of red wine.
“Here, let me get that.” When he took the box out of her hands, she settled her fists on her hips and scowled at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Honestly, since you got all buff and everything, you’re too hot for any of those women.”
Tucker chuckled as he put the wine on the counter and pulled a bottle out of the box. “What are you talking about?”
“None of them is worthy of being Mrs. Claus. You can’t bid on them.”
“Who said I was going to bid on them?”
“They were certainly doing all they could to get your attention.”
“So?”
“So…”
“L
izard. There you are.” Liza spun around so quick she stumbled against Tucker, nearly knocking the wine bottle from his hands. He set it on the counter and gripped her shoulders as Diana shuffled toward the bar with her arms outstretched and nails wiggling. Bret Bridges was a few paces behind her with a plastic grin glued to his face. Man, he hated that guy.
“What are you two doing here?” Liza backed into him and he pulled her in tight against his chest as he whispered in her ear.
“What are those two doing together?”
“They’re dating.” When she turned her head to whisper her response, bringing her mouth within kissing distance, it took all he had not to lay one on her. If only he could.
Diana cackled like a hen as she reached her arm around Bret and snuggled against his shoulder. “We thought we’d stop by, say hello to old friends, let them know we’re back.” Diana glanced into the kitchen. “Bartending tonight?”
“Yup. Tucker and me.”
“Tucker Callum? I would’ve never recognized you. You look completely different.” Diana batted her eyes at Tucker. “Is it the stress of running your own business?” She leaned through the window, her face drawn with feigned concern.
“The stress of—?”
“It’s okay. So often folks start a new business thinking they would make a mint, but they work too many hours for too little reward. I see it all the time in the bank. Folks come in distraught because they bit off more than they could chew and they just wither away to nothing.”
Liza drew in a sharp breath and her shoulders became hard as stone. When she took a step toward Diana, he pulled her back and rubbed his hands up and down her arms, settling his little pit bull. One thing he could always count on was that Liza had his back.
“And they pour their hearts out to you, don’t they?” Tucker smiled warmly, playing along with Diana but fighting back a laugh. She was way off base. Misty Mountain was doing exceptionally well. After the New Year, he planned to start on the next phase of his business and looked forward to the surprise on her face when the city announced his winning bid for the castle.
Liza wiggled out of his grip and reached for a plastic cup. “So, what can we get you?” she snapped.
“White wine for me. And Bret will have a beer.”
Liza scooted the beer and wine toward the edge of the bar and collected payment while Tucker leaned against a stainless steel table, studying Diana and Bret. Diana had always bugged Liza and he could understand why. She carried the same superior air toward Liza that he had always felt from Bret. Tucker had grown up in Paula’s Creek where most folks had worked in the local coal mine once owned by Bret’s granddaddy. When his granddaddy died, his father shut down the mine and put everyone—including Tucker’s dad—out of work. It didn’t matter that Bret was a few years younger than Tucker, he still treated him and anyone else from that area like dirt under his shoe. He was nothing but a spoiled, privileged asshole who Tucker blamed for Liza’s wreck.
Diana sipped her wine, scowled at the cup, then regarded Liza with a raised brow. “Oh, listen, Lizard—”
“Liza.” Wrapping an arm around Liza’s shoulder, he wordlessly warned Diana he would stand up for his girl. “It’s Liza.”
“Liza…remember my offer last night? You know, about the Christmas season?” Diana gestured at Liza with her wine.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Liza moved out of Tucker’s arm, picked up a cloth and began wiping down the countertop.
“You know.” Through gritted teeth, Diana shot a quick glance at Tucker and leaned through the window toward Liza. “About Bret and me being Mr. and Mrs. Claus.” Did she think by lowering her voice he wouldn’t hear?
“Oh, yeah, about that.” Tucker drew himself to his full six-foot-two height and stepped closer to the window. “Liza said you were thinking about approaching the committee to volunteer your services.”
“Well, it’s just, um, we—” Diana sputtered.
“Maybe next year.” Tucker crossed his arms and glared at her in silent warning.
“Mr. and Mrs. Claus are usually a couple, a committed couple.” Bret broke his silence and draped his arm over Diana’s shoulder to emphasize their relationship.
“Well now, Bret, what makes you think I’m not committed to someone?”
“Diana’s mom said you weren’t dating anyone.”
“Last I checked, Diana’s mom doesn’t know anything about my personal life.”
“We just wouldn’t want the people of Highland Springs to be disappointed,” Diana said, coming to Bret’s defense.
Tucker’s hand slid around Liza’s waist and he bent down, pressing his cheek to hers. “We’re not going to disappoint anyone, are we, sweetheart?”
“Ah…” Liza’s swallowed deep and loud.
“See, guys, you don’t have anything to worry about. Liza and I will be the best Mr. and Mrs. Claus this town has ever seen.”
Diana and Bret were stunned into silence, their jaws agape, carbon copies of each other.
“So, just let Virginia know you’ll take over next year. But this year, it’s me and my girl.”
They turned quick and walked off with a huff. As soon as they were out of ear-shot, Liza turned on him, fire in her blue eyes.
“What was that all about?” Her flushed cheeks signaled she was boiling mad or embarrassed—either way, he was about to get an earful, and damned if she wouldn’t be cute doing it.
“What do you mean?” He gathered the empty wine bottles cluttering the countertop and carried them toward the recycling bin. Her toe brushed the back of his heels as she trailed behind him.
“That…that…sweetheart business. My girl business.”
He dropped the bottles in the plastic bin and turned around to begin his preemptive strike against her tongue lashing.
“You were the one who told them I would be Santa and that I had found Mrs. Claus. I didn’t want to make a liar out of you, and this was your idea.”
Liza’s flush turned waxy. She wrung her hands, twisting them nervously. The determined gleam in her eye was replaced by fear. “But I was going to help you find someone tonight.”
“I don’t want anyone else to do it but you.” You, you’re the only one
I want—have ever wanted.
“You know I don’t like Christmas. Even if I liked Christmas, it doesn’t like me.”
“It’ll be okay. I’m not worried.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What was that sweetheart business a minute ago?”
He gathered her cherub face in his hands. “Bret said it had to be a real couple. I was just making it look convincing.”
“Yeah, but what if—”
“Just leave it to me. We can pull this off.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and squatted down to her eye level, walking her backward until she came to a halt against the walk-in refrigerator. Her eyes were as big as moons and her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. What would she do if he placed a long, slow kiss on her quivering lips right now?
“Seriously, Tucker? How can we pull this off? When people date they—”
“Hold hands, hug, kiss? We already do that, remember?”
“But not like that. We hug and kiss like siblings, not lovers.”
He stood up straight and laughed. “Good God, how much PDA do you expect us to do? Even if we were seriously dating, I wouldn’t stick my tongue down your throat in public.”
“I know, but—” She wrenched out of his hold and turned her attention to the overflowing trashcan. She twisted the ends of the plastic bag and attempted to lift it out of the barrel. “When people are dating and presumably in love, they get a certain look in their eyes, a certain expression. You know what I mean?”
“You did theatre in high school and I was quite a bullshitter in my day. We can fake it.”
He grabbed the bag and pulled it free with little effort. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“But, it’s my entire family we have to con
vince, not just Diana and Bret. This is a bad idea.”
“We can tell Brody and Kate the truth, and your parents if you want.” He lumbered toward the back door, carrying two enormous bags of trash in each hand. “Besides, now that I’m in shape, it only makes sense you’d date a hot guy like me.” He tossed her a playful wink before he stepped into the cold night. There was no way he’d let her out of this.
FOUR
Tucker stood on Liza’s porch, drawing his shoulders forward, marching in place as he blew warm air into his cupped hands. She lived in her grandparent’s old house, and Brody and Kate lived in the family farmhouse at the end of the lane. He loved this place where he’d spent so much of his childhood playing with Brody and now cultivating grain on his farm for their brew-making business.
Even on this cloudy, cold morning, the view of fenced dormant fields and the river and mountains in the distance reminded him of a Currier and Ives painting. The ribbon of smoke coming from the old farmhouse chimney added to the idyllic scene. His heart warmed even more when Liza threw open her front door.
“What are you doing here?”
Not the greeting he’d been dreaming of, but she still looked damned cute in her ripped jeans and leather boots. Clouds like thin cotton came out of his mouth as he spoke.
“Picking you up for brunch.”
She grabbed hold of his arm and tugged him into her foyer. “Get in here. You’ll freeze to death out there.”
They were headed to Brody and Kate’s for their monthly Sunday brunch where everyone would gather around the dining room table, chat about the holidays, and make a fuss over their baby, John Brody. Tucker’s pick for Mrs. Claus was bound to be a topic of discussion.
“You didn’t need to pick me up. I usually walk over by myself.”
He shrugged out of his coat and followed her into the kitchen. “I just thought since we’re a couple now, we should be—”
“Whoa. Hold on there, mister.” She stopped so fast he slammed into her. “We’re faking remember?” She spun like a top and planted her hands on her hips.
Whatever We Are: A Highland Springs Romance (Whatever Series Book 3) Page 3