Mistletoe Hero

by Tanya Michaels

  “Really? My hero.” Her radiant smile made him feel he was strong enough to stop a speeding locomotive. Or run faster than a speeding locomotive. Definitely something in the locomotive genre.

  Embarrassed by the swell of pride he felt at her reaction, he downplayed his generosity. “It’s not that big a deal. Patrick and Lilah and Quinn deal with entire classrooms full of kids on a daily basis. Seems like a minor enough task for me to keep two of them out of trouble for an hour or so.”

  “It will be a big deal to them,” she protested. “Getting to hang out with a big strong guy and build stuff when their own father is so far away, instead of trailing after their mom all afternoon? I know having them underfoot will probably slow you down, and you’re sweet to offer.”

  Sweet? Gabe wasn’t sure whether to be amused by the unlikely adjective or vaguely offended.

  “So, what have you been working on all morning?” he asked casually. “I assume paint was involved.”

  He brushed his thumb over a smudge of yellow on the inside of her elbow. She trembled. He wished she hadn’t. Her natural responsiveness made her even more irresistible.

  “Headless bodies,” she said.

  Gabe raised an eyebrow at her unexpectedly gruesome answer. “I don’t follow.”

  “Waide Supply donated large pieces of plywood and the school’s art teacher drew silly outlines. The kind you stick your head through for photo ops. A few of us have been painting them. She’s got one of a pirate captain to put near your ship.

  “Speaking of which…” she said, sounding uncharacteristically shy.

  It was endearing to see an alternate side of her, but made him realize he’d grown to genuinely like her brash confidence.

  “Yes?” he prompted.

  “How’s progress on your ship going?” she asked. “I’d be happy to round up some volunteers or even pitch in myself. Although, last time I offered, you questioned my construction skills. And I…didn’t want to be pushy.”

  Her confession unbalanced him. Despite his previous complaints, it seemed inherently wrong that Arianne should try to be anything other than the strong, sexy, surprising woman she was.

  “You are who you are.” It came out clumsily, not nearly encompassing how much he admired her.

  “Is that your fatalistic way of saying I’m doomed to keep making the same mistakes?”

  “No!” He cupped her chin, tilting her head up. “No, it’s my way of…” There were a half a dozen things he could tell her, except he couldn’t find the right words to articulate any of them.

  Maybe he should try action instead.

  His heart raced with the anticipation that had been escalating since she’d brushed her lips across his skin the other night. That whisper of a caress had teased at the corners of his imagination for the past two days, stoking an undeniable craving. Arianne’s lips parted, and her eyes closed as he bent toward her. For reasons known only to herself, Arianne seemed to believe in him, and he should probably repay that with a gentleman’s kiss, soft and slow-building. Respectful.

  Instead, Gabe kissed her like the town bad boy he was. Hungry and hard, pressing his open mouth to hers and sinking into the warmth of her.

  She clutched the front of his shirt. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to pull him even closer or holding on to him for balance. There was a bench behind them, and he moved them in that direction until the back of his legs bumped iron. Then he sat, tugging Arianne with him. She wasn’t quite in his lap, but so tantalizingly close that need roared through him.

  Fragmented thoughts circled like distant birds high above, little more than indistinguishable M’s against the clouds. Public place. Shouldn’t. She deserves…

  But Arianne tunneled her hands through his hair and slid her tongue against his, obliterating the paltry objections his rational mind posed. She was soft and hot in his arms, and he let his hand drop from her shoulder to her blouse, over the fullness of her breast.

  Push my hand away. One of them needed to be sane.

  Arianne groaned his name and arched into him.

  Hell, sanity was overrated anyway.

  It took him a moment to realize that the feminine gasp he heard had not come from the beautiful woman kissing him.

  Then Lilah’s voice boomed at them, unnaturally loud in the clearing. “You know what, honey? I just realized I left my keys over at the bingo tent. Would you mind going back to get them?”

  Even though most of the blood had left Gabe’s brain, he had the wherewithal to gently push Arianne aside. She was straightening her paint-stained button-down shirt and looked nearly composed by the time Lilah reached them. Gabe kept his gaze averted, breathing hard. It would be a few seconds before he could function like a normal human being again.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Lilah said, sounding far too delighted to be truly penitent. “Tanner and I were coming to see if Gabe would join us for lunch.”

  “You Waides,” Gabe drawled. “You just don’t give up.”

  “One of our numerous fantastic attributes,” Lilah agreed. “Also, many of us are good kissers, but I see you’ve discovered that for yourself.”

  “Li-lah!”

  Arianne’s squeak of protest left her sister-in-law unfazed.

  “Couldn’t help myself.” Lilah chuckled. “Think back to how often you’ve teased me and Tanner over the years. Do you know how many times you walked in on us necking back when we were teenagers?”

  “Of course I know. Seeing my brother in a hot clinch?” Arianne exaggerated a shudder. “Those incidents scarred me for life.”

  If Lilah hadn’t found an excuse to send her husband away before he’d gotten an eyeful, Gabe had a feeling he would currently be maimed for life. Not fully meeting her eyes, he offered a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

  He could hear the smile in her voice. “So, about lunch?”

  A frigid, ice-cold shower sounded like a much better idea than sitting next to Arianne for the next forty minutes, trying to act as if he didn’t want to drag her off to bed while her brother watched from the other side of the table. “Um…”

  Arianne covered his hand with hers. “Please, Gabe?”

  He felt himself drowning in her eyes and didn’t mind. Who needed air? “All right. But I need to do something about the balls first.”

  Arianne’s eyebrows shot up, and Gabe gave a strangled laugh. “For the pit. Remember? Big container people are going to walk into? The company delivered our supplies, and aside from the base, I don’t want to just leave everything out.”

  “Of course.” Her face pinkened, and she busied herself with reclipping her hair. “I knew what you were talking about.”

  “I need to get my toolbox, too.” Would all seven bags even fit in his truck? “We’re going to need a good-sized storage space to keep all the bags. Unless we want to divvy them up among us?”

  Lilah shook her head. “No, even with the advance prep, next Saturday will be hectic. Keeping everything together will make it go more smoothly. We can store the balls in the guest room at my house. We only use it when we have—”

  “Sweetheart?” Tanner called. “I didn’t see your keys.”

  She turned with a guileless smile that made Gabe think she deserved an acting award. “Sorry about that, hon. They turned out to be in my pocket.”

  Tanner narrowed his eyes, well aware that his wife wasn’t a ditz but not pressing her for a better explanation. “Well, I’m starving. Are we ready to go or what?”

  “Just about,” Gabe said, standing. “Can you help me carry some bags to my truck? They aren’t too heavy, just cumbersome. Once we get those and my tools secured, we can go.”

  “Anything to speed this along,” Tanner said affably, following Gabe toward the clearing that spilled out into the gravel lot.

  “We’ll be along in just a second,” Lilah said, tossing a friendly arm around Arianne’s shoulders. It occurred to Gabe that he was about to be the topic of conversation. From years of habit, he bristled at the
idea. He liked flying below the social radar. Then you should refrain from publicly mauling the daughter of a community pillar.

  As he came around the corner of the library, Gabe noticed that his ladder was propped against the back of an antiques store opposite them. It had probably been returned from the front of the lot because the path between buildings was too narrow to maneuver well, thank God, or Gabe and Arianne—There was a split-second delay between seeing the fifteen-foot ladder and realizing that there was a kid climbing it.

  Ben. The little boy who was afraid of heights.

  Chapter Nine

  Gabe’s instinct was to cross the lot at a run, but he didn’t want to startle the kid into falling. The ladder was merely resting there, not safely grounded on the uneven gravel for actual use. Cold fear gripped Gabe. He could break his neck.

  He and Tanner exchanged stricken looks.

  “Go get help,” Gabe instructed, not caring what form that help took as long as they got this kid down safely. Were there still firemen at the bingo tent, or had they gone to lunch? Did they have nets and safety equipment with them, or were they stored at the fire station?

  He walked purposefully toward the kid, noticing as he went that the ladder was shaking. The little boy, who’d nearly reached the top, was crying.

  “Ben?” Gabe called softly. “You’re okay, buddy.”

  “No, I’m n-not. I’m afraid just I-like my br-br—”

  They could address phobias and self-esteem and not climbing ladders unsupervised later. Right now,

  Gabe needed to reach the kid before the whole damn thing fell over.

  “Hold on.”

  But the child wasn’t listening. His pitiful little howls were gathering strength, and Gabe heard Arianne’s sharp intake of breath behind him as Ben reflexively lifted a hand to wipe his nose. Gabe dived for the tilting ladder as it scraped against the side of the building. Ben shrieked.

  Gabe didn’t have time to steady it, not with Ben’s shaky weight working against him. “Just let go, buddy. I’ll catch you.” Please, God, let his words be true.

  Instead, Ben panicked and scrambled to get down, further upsetting the ladder. As it started to topple, he either decided to trust Gabe or just plain lost his grip. He smashed down into Gabe’s chest. Gabe staggered back, tightening his hold to keep the kid safe, barely able to register the discomfort in his rib cage before a much more powerful blow struck him across the skull.

  Tanner tried to help him into a sitting position as Arianne pulled Ben into her waiting arms. There was a ringing so intense in Gabe’s ears that the sound nauseated him, but somewhere beyond it, he focused on Arianne’s low, soothing voice. He thought he heard her say that Lilah had gone to find Ben’s mom.

  “Sh-she’ll be mad,” the boy fretted. “I was supposed to stay with Toby, but I wanted to prove I was brave. Like m-my daddy.” The last word ended on a wail that was like a machete to Gabe’s temple.

  “Benjamin August Harris!”

  Gabe’s stomach lurched. Must everyone yell? Suddenly Arianne appeared in the halo of his blurred vision.

  “Are you all right? How many fingers am I holding up?”

  He tried to focus on her hand. Eleven? That couldn’t be right. “Don’t worry. Hardheaded. Like you.” To prove his point and erase the fear pinching her face, he lurched to his feet.

  And the world went temporarily dark.

  GABE WAS OUT ONLY a moment, but apparently when you were dealing with women, that was more than enough time for them to conclude you had to go to the hospital.

  “You blacked out!” Arianne said, blessedly keeping her voice soft despite her vehemence.

  “Just stood too fast,” he mumbled. “Aspirin, bed, be fine.” Aspirin, a few hours rest and plenty of time in bed with her, he’d be even better. But he lacked the energy to invite her to kiss and make it better.

  Meanwhile, Fawne Harris was gushing to the rapidly gathering crowd that Gabe had saved her son. Everyone parted to make way for the red truck. Tanner had taken Gabe’s keys and gone to get his vehicle so that he didn’t have to walk all the way between buildings and across lots to where he’d parked.

  Tanner stepped out of the truck and tossed the keys to Arianne.

  “You want Lilah and me to come with you?” her brother asked.

  “I’ve got it from here,” Arianne said. She sounded almost like a protective mama bear.

  It made Gabe smile, the crazy idea of the tiny woman shielding him from danger, but moving his facial muscles only added to the agony in his head. So he gave up arguing and let Lilah and Tanner help him into the passenger seat of his truck.

  Once he was buckled, he told Arianne, “Never let a woman drive it before.”

  “Don’t worry, David taught me to drive stick when I was still in high school. Close your eyes and leave the ride to me.”

  Luckily, business in the E.R. was slow this afternoon, and the doctor saw Gabe pretty quickly. He asked him some questions and did a rudimentary exam before concluding, “MTBI.”

  “What’s that?” Arianne asked, sounding alarmed. Gabe wanted to hug her, to reassure her that he was all right, but it was difficult to portray unharmed strength when the room tilted every time he moved.

  “A concussion,” the doctor explained.

  Well, duh. Gabe figured everyone who’d been in town square with them, right down to little Ben, could have made that diagnosis and spared him the extra stop at the hospital with all its painfully bright fluorescent lights overhead.

  He swallowed, squinting at the doctor. “Can I have some aspirin?”

  “Not for a concussion! Acetaminophen would be better. I’ll get you some of that.” The man turned to Arianne. “Can you or someone else keep an eye on him for the next twenty-four hours? He should make a follow-up appointment for Monday, but in the meantime, if he gets worse, you should bring him back in.” He gave her some symptoms to watch for, like vomiting and growing confusion.

  Earlier that afternoon, the idea of Arianne spending the night with him would have sounded like paradise, but not in his current condition. Gabe felt woozy and vulnerable and not a little foolish, getting conked on the head with his own damn ladder.

  “Feeling better,” he lied to her as she navigated the labyrinth of the hospital’s parking garage to get them back out on the main road. “You don’t have to stay once you drop me off.”

  “I don’t mind,” she said firmly.

  I do.

  She slanted him a sidelong look. “All right, how about I call your father?”

  “What?” He hadn’t meant to yell. Damn, that hurt.

  “You were just in the hospital. Even if you don’t ask him to come over, shouldn’t we at least call your dad to notify him?”

  “At the hospital, not in,” Gabe differentiated. “And, no.”

  “I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable with a parent taking care of you instead of me.”

  Throughout Gabe’s life, his father had made him feel guilty, had made him feel unloved and had made him itch to leave home. But made him comfortable? No. That was not in Jeremy’s repertoire.

  “Is there…” She hesitated. “Is there anyone else you’d like me to call, then? To watch over you?”

  Either the acetaminophen was kicking in or his body was simply shutting down as a defense mechanism against the throbbing pain, because the earlier excruciating agony was giving way to a duller, achy sleepiness. Was there anyone else he’d rather be with than Arianne, anyone else he trusted more in this situation?

  “Stay.” His eyes closed. “Stay with me.”

  EVEN ASLEEP, GABE DIDN’T look at peace. Arianne parked the truck beneath the carport outside the old Mitchell barn. It was no secret Gabe had bought the place and had been slowly fixing it up; she’d wondered several times over the past few weeks what the interior of his home looked like. Now she’d get an insider’s view. She felt a dash of shame over her curiosity—the man was hurt! This was no time to be thinking of herself. But
then she forgave herself. After all, who could blame a girl for wanting to learn more about the man she was…

  Falling for? Lusting after? Thinking about on an hourly basis?

  “Gabe.” She nudged his shoulder. Not being able to wake a person up could be a sign that the concussion was more severe than first realized. But she had no frame of reference. How difficult was Gabe to wake up normally? What if he was like Tanner, who slept like the dead?

  At least Gabe mumbled something, so she knew he’d heard her.

  She gave it another shot. “C’mon, big guy. We’re home, and I need your help. I can shoot pool with the boys, drive a stick shift and occasionally cuss like a sailor, but lifting you is beyond even my capabilities.”

  Though he groused incoherently the entire time, he managed to slide out of the truck. She put her arm around his waist and looped his arm around her neck. Was she a terrible person for noticing the sculpted definition of his muscles at a time like this?

  She found the house key on the ring in her hand and unlocked the door. There weren’t an abundance of windows, and she reached automatically for a light switch, but Gabe emitted a low whimpering sound that made her rethink that. Was there enough illumination that she could help him down the hall to his room without walking into a wall or tripping over something?

  “Can you make it to the bed?” she asked.

  He glanced at her and, despite the pain etched around his eyes, smiled. “Dare you to ask me that another time.”

  Desire pierced her. He’d sustained a concussion saving a little boy and still had the stamina to flirt with her? At this rate, he’d ruin her for other men.

  She stiffened at the thought. Even though it had been partially flippant, there was a kernel of actual risk there. Every man she’d ever dated had been from Mistletoe and she couldn’t imagine getting swept away with any of them the way she had with Gabe on that bench.

  Either because he was feeling better now that he was in dimmer surroundings or because sheer masculine pride forbade him from continuing to lean on her, Gabe led the way to his room. Her passing impression was that the former barn was sectioned into thirds, with a high-ceilinged living room in the middle and a kitchen and bedroom on the ends.