Mistletoe Hero

by Tanya Michaels

  Tossing his cell phone on the counter, Gabe said offhandedly, “Oh, I called Lilah on my way back from the diner to let her know you’d be ready to go soon. She should be here in about twenty minutes. I figured you’d be in a hurry for a fresh change of clothes.” His mouth quirked in a half grin, exposing his left dimple, as he took in the too-big shirt.

  She smiled back as it was impossible to be annoyed with a man who bought you buttermilk pancakes with turkey sausage and fresh fruit. But she would have called Lilah herself. Was he trying to get rid of her?

  He sat next to her and they ate in silence. Arianne racked her brain for the best way to handle the situation. She’d had a few lovers in her life, but they’d been steady boyfriends, guys she’d known well and had been in relationships with long before they found their way to her bed. Did Gabe consider last night a onetime event? The thought was bleak. But since she’d assured him she knew all she needed to take the leap, she could hardly press him now for answers and commitments.

  As far as Arianne was concerned, they had a future of some sort. One of them just didn’t know it yet. Rather than informing him of her own feelings and encouraging him to consider his, she decided to exercise rarely used tact. They would talk later. For now, he was still finishing his breakfast and Lilah’s car was coming up the long driveway.

  Arianne glanced out the window. “That’s my ride.”

  Gabe opened the door and Lilah walked inside looking like an old-fashioned suitor come a-courtin’. She held a bouquet, a picture of some sort and a shoe box with a bow on it.

  “What’s all this?” Gabe asked, staring at the roses as if they were live grenades on stems.

  “These—” Lilah handed over the flowers “—are from Fawne as a thank-you. There’s a note. This is something Ben drew for you. And Quinn got you this very manly first-aid kit as her way of saying she hopes you feel better soon.”

  He set the box on the bar to open it, and Arianne laughed at the sight of a green-and-brown camouflage-print ice pack and a box of adhesive bandages printed with monster trucks. He barely looked at her, instead staring at the odd assortment of gifts in disbelief.

  “Seems like an awful lot of fuss,” he said.

  Lilah raised an eyebrow. “Well, Ben’s awful important to his friends and family. We hate to think what would have happened to him if you hadn’t been there. By the way, Jack Allen has apologized a dozen times for just leaving that ladder propped like that and not giving anyone a heads-up that it was there. He loaded it onto Nick Zeth’s truck, along with the bouncy balls. They’re planning to bring it by today and help with the pirate ship construction if you need it.”

  Even though Gabe shifted uncomfortably at this announcement, Arianne couldn’t be more delighted by the news. This was the Mistletoe she knew and loved—neighbors and friends helping each other out and banding together. It was high time Gabe got to be a part of that Mistletoe, too. She just hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Lilah fished her keys out of her pocket. “You about ready, Ari?”

  Translation, was Arianne prepared for the interrogation that was going to take place the second the two women were alone in the car? She decided that she wasn’t going to confide in Lilah, not yet. Gabe was such a private person that telling Lilah any of what he’d shared would feel like a betrayal. And as far as their making love…For now, that was hers alone, inviolable and not open for discussion.

  Arianne slid her purse strap onto her shoulder. “I’m good to go.”

  Gabe walked them to the door, making no move to touch her but smiling into her eyes when he said, “I’m sure I’ll be talking to you soon.”

  “Count on it.” And then, since Lilah had already seen them kissing anyway and Arianne had never been good at denying her impulses, she stretched up—relieved he met her halfway—and kissed him quickly across the lips.

  Lilah didn’t say anything until she’d started the car. “Tanner wanted to come pick you up, but I vetoed him. I figured you wouldn’t want to deal with the whole macho, overprotective brother vibe and his giving Gabe the stink-eye.”

  “Good call.”

  “But don’t be surprised when we have dinner with the family tonight. They’re going to ask questions.”

  Arianne smirked, deducing that this oh-so-considerate warning was just a way of Lilah leading into her own inquiries. “Let ’em ask. I love my family, and it’s perfectly normal for them to have an interest in my life. Of course, they’ll also have to understand that I’m a grown woman who doesn’t have to answer to anyone else.”

  Lilah snorted. “Yeah, try that with your brothers and dad and see how well it goes over.”

  Playing with the hem of her T-shirt, Arianne asked, “Do you think they’ll like him? Dad and Dave and Tanner? It was different for you and Rachel coming into the family. Mom and I were thrilled not to be outnumbered anymore and we’re not quite as…tribal as the guys. They close ranks sometimes without even meaning to.”

  Gabe had endured enough of that already. If Arianne was successful in winning him over, the Waides were going to welcome him into the clan with open arms, damn it.

  “They just want what’s best for you,” Lilah said. “Same as you do for them. I can’t promise they won’t threaten to beat his ass if he ever hurts you, but if you’re happy, they’ll accept him. Does he make you happy?”

  Arianne thought about the acrid tang of rejection she experienced whenever he found a reason to walk away from her. It wasn’t promising that he’d had thirty years’ practice in numbing himself to his emotions and almost no practice with healthy, loving relationships.

  “Not yet.” She bit her lip, looking out the window. “But he will.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The next committee meeting for the festival was Tuesday night at town hall and would precede the monthly open town meeting that many of the volunteers were planning to attend anyway. When Arianne had called Gabe yesterday to check on how he was feeling, he’d told her that he probably wouldn’t make it.

  “I don’t need to be there for the discussion,” he’d said. “I’m just the hired muscle.”

  “Yes,” she’d agreed solemnly. “We only want you for your pirate ship. And your booty.”

  He didn’t immediately respond, but she heard the laugh he tried to smother. Then he explained that, with Nick’s and Jack’s help, actual construction of the pieces was done, but Gabe thought his time was better spent sanding and painting than sitting in the town hall.

  Which suited her nefarious purposes just fine, she realized now as the mayor called the town meeting to order. An idea was beginning to take shape in her mind. The agenda was posted on the whiteboard behind the mayor’s head and included some of their town’s annual traditions, like the Winter Wonderland ball. And Mistletoe’s Man of the Year, someone they voted for in early November and who was given the honor of leading the Thanksgiving parade.

  With half an ear, Arianne listened to Pat Donavan talk about suggested changes to how the town’s intramural sports were run, followed by Stanley Dean outlining the budget for a town beautification project and Belle Fulton’s report from the chamber of commerce. Finally they moved to the next to last item: Mistletoe Man of the Year. Anticipation had Arianne fidgeting in her seat so much that Quinn shot her a quizzical look.

  “As you all know, we took preliminary nominations for the Man of the Year at last month’s meetings. Those included our new high school coach Dylan Echols—”

  This elicited a loud, admiring whistle from Chloe Malcolm, Dylan’s fiancée, and friendly laughter from everyone seated around her.

  The mayor raised a brow. “May I continue? We also have local fireman Nick Zeth, two-time former Man of the Year, David Waide, and Petey Gruebner, nominated again this year by Petey Gruebner,” the mayor concluded with an aggrieved sigh.

  At this, Petey nudged his wife, who’d been busily knitting and not paying much attention to the proceedings. She clapped politely before returning to what looked lik
e a scarf big enough to keep a giraffe’s neck warm.

  “At this time,” the mayor said, “I’ll open the floor for any final nominations to consider before we vote at the November meeting in a few weeks.”

  Arianne shot to her feet. Next to her Quinn groaned, “She isn’t.”

  Lilah laughed in the row behind them. “She is!”

  “Mr. Mayor, I nominate Gabriel Sloan.”

  “Is that your idea of a joke, Ms. Waide?” An outraged masculine voice boomed from the back of the room.

  Dreading what she was about to see, Arianne turned. Oh, God, she hadn’t even considered this possibility when she’d devised her spontaneous plan thirty minutes earlier. Because she’d been here so early, she was seated close to the front and had been chatting with other people on the festival committee right up until the time the mayor had called order. Arianne hadn’t seen Earline and Robert Ortz, Shay Templeton’s parents, come in and take seats near the door.

  Robert was on his feet, his face nearly purple beneath his snow-white hair. His wife, still seated, was squeezing his hand.

  Whatever Arianne thought privately about Shay and the mistakes she’d made, she wouldn’t wish losing a child on any parent. She tried to sound respectful even as she said firmly, “No, sir, I was serious.”

  “That boy was the reason my baby girl was killed!”

  The “boy” had been a victim, too, albeit in a less dramatic and permanent way than Shay, and was now a man. “With all due apologies for your loss, that was fourteen years ago, and Gabe wasn’t even in the house when it happened. None of us really knows what happened. How long should he be punished for a perceived crime?”

  People were squirming and whispering, shooting sympathetic glances at the Ortz family, collectively uncomfortable with the direction the meeting had taken. Cici Hunaker was openly smirking, one primly dressed woman in the front row looked ready to hyperventilate. Hell. This hadn’t been what Arianne had in mind at all. She’d wanted to talk about all the work Gabe had done for the town over the years; sure, a lot of it was his paid occupation, but that wasn’t so very different from Nick Zeth, who was a salaried fireman. In the past five years Gabe had helped repair houses after some spring tornadoes had blown through, working twelve-hour days to help people get their lives back together as quickly as possible. He’d patched and improved and converted homes, all the while never truly seeing this town as his home.

  He was good to the town’s senior citizens, donated his time on behalf of the elementary children in this town, had even risked the high-stress potential of teaching a teen to drive. Arianne had wanted to refocus everyone on those qualities, not dredge up the ancient past. But she found herself tongue-tied in the glare of Robert Ortz, not wanting to say anything that sounded as if she were dismissing his loss.

  The mayor banged his gavel on the podium. “Robert, why don’t you take your seat?” he asked gently. “Can we get you anything? A glass of water? Earline? Now, Ms. Waide, continue with your nomination, but keep it short. We, er, have other business to discuss.”

  The only thing left on the agenda was the Winter Wonderland, annually held at the Mistletoe Inn, and Arianne knew that wasn’t the real reason the mayor wanted her to wrap up with haste.

  She took a deep breath and tried again. “I don’t deny that Gabe may have made some mistakes in his past. I wager everyone in this room has made mistakes. But he’s part of Mistletoe, quietly helping us when we need him.”

  “Hear, hear!” Fawne Harris said.

  Arianne darted her a grateful glance. “I think the other nominees are wonderful men, but come on, my brother doesn’t need the honor a third time. Do we really want to feed his ego?”

  “Hey!” David called out with mock indignation.

  A few people chuckled, helping dispel the earlier tension. Next to him, Rachel patted his knee and whispered loudly, “It’s okay, honey, I still appreciate you.”

  Feeling braver now, Arianne continued her appeal. “And Dylan’s a great guy—we’re lucky that he decided to move back to town last spring—but Gabe’s been here year after year to help us rebuild after storms. I heard a rumor that he wouldn’t take any money from the church after he was hired to fix the leak in the sanctuary wall.” If the townspeople were allowed to pass along the sordid Tara-generated gossip, why not the redeeming stuff, too? Reverend Billings, seated on the other side of the main aisle, nodded.

  “I’m sure most of you have heard about the walk-the-plank attraction he’s been building as a special fundraiser for the festival. And ask Mindy Nelson’s son if he would have his driver’s license without Gabe’s help,” Arianne added.

  “I second the nomination,” Dele Momsen said. She shot a compassionate look at the Ortzs, but her voice didn’t waver when she lent her support.

  “All right then,” the mayor said. “Thank you, ladies, and thank you, Arianne, for making your case. His name has been officially entered for the vote. Any other nominations?”

  When no one immediately said anything, the mayor moved rather desperately to the next topic.

  Leaning so close their heads almost touched, Quinn whispered, “And what did Gabe have to say about this when you dutifully talked it over with him first?”

  Arianne smiled weakly. “I’m hoping he likes surprises.”

  IT WAS A GOOD THING there was no one else in the store Wednesday evening because Gabe would have terrified any onlookers when he stormed in, demanding, “What the hell were you thinking?”

  Déjà vu, but not.

  Exactly two weeks ago tonight, Arianne had found herself alone in her father’s store with Gabriel Sloan, just as they were now. Except two weeks ago, she’d had to dig deep just to get one-word responses from him. Now he was in here vocalizing entire sentences. Loudly.

  “Good evening. Welcome to Waide Supply,” she said brightly.

  “Is this a joke to you?” he asked, stalking closer.

  “No, but you bit my head off, and it left me temporarily unable to think of what to say, so I went with a classic.” She stopped smiling. “I would love to talk to you, but I don’t like being yelled at.”

  “And I don’t like being a town punch line! Damn it, Arianne, I try to stay out of the limelight. It’s one of the reasons I stopped going to On Tap. I got tired of deflecting verbal jabs from men and getting hit on by tipsy women dared by their friends.” He raked a hand through his hair, looking slightly calmer now that he’d vented some of his frustration. “I heard about last night.”

  “I figured.” Frankly it had taken longer than she’d expected for him to find out and track her down. She really should’ve told him herself, but she’d thought he might take the news better from a neutral third-party source.

  Derision sparked in his gray eyes. “Were you trying to embarrass me?”

  “That’s not fair!” She recalled how her knees had knocked together when she’d made her public declaration, struggling to find appropriate words that would somehow characterize all that was good about Gabe yet wouldn’t be inexcusably offensive to the Ortzs, objective words that wouldn’t betray her own vested interest, that she was falling—“I spoke from the heart last night. Anyone who suggests that I did so lightly is an idiot! And a liar.”

  Gabe stood on the other side of the register counter, his head cocked as he examined her. “Are you about to cry?”

  “What? Of course not.” She widened her eyes, trying to keep from blinking, lest a tear break free. She hadn’t realized she was getting so emotional about this.

  “Ari.” He reached out and swiped his index finger across her lashes. A teardrop glistened on the pad of his finger. “Don’t. I’m not worth tears.”

  “You are! That was my point to the town. You don’t even know your own worth, Gabe.”

  He closed his eyes, looking pained by her praise.

  “It’s true,” she persisted obstinately. “I grew up with a strict but fair father who loves me and two big brothers, so I have high standards for men.
I’m not just some silly girl easily swayed by great biceps. You have your own code of honor, you have this great, barely tapped reservoir of humor, you have heart.” Even if it’s been broken for a long time.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched as he met her gaze, his expression enigmatic. Then he braced his hands on the counter and jumped, swinging his feet over and dropping down on her side.

  Arianne’s mouth went dry at the display of physical prowess and his sudden proximity to her. “Technically,” she murmured, “nonemployees aren’t allowed to be back here.”

  He cupped her shoulders and crushed his mouth against hers in a conflicted kiss. She knew he was still annoyed about the nomination, but that she’d moved him with what she’d said. Deliberately gentle, she kissed him back, sucking at his bottom lip, running her tongue over his. After a second, any anger in his gesture had been replaced with simple, slow pleasure.

  Breaking their kiss, he pressed his brow to the top of her head. “You’re a difficult woman to stay angry with.”

  “I’m sorry I made you angry,” she said.

  He chuckled. “But not sorry you nominated me in the first place?”

  “Take the apology you can get,” she advised. “I have a question for you.”

  Leaning against the counter, he folded his arms over his chest. “Is it ‘Hey, Gabe, do you mind if I bring you up at tonight’s town hall meeting?’ because the time for that request would have been yesterday.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know beforehand. It’s not like it was something I’ve been secretly plotting for a week. I was looking at the meeting agenda and it suddenly came to me.”

  “You know, you’re allowed to have impulses and not act on them.”

  She shot him a dubious look. “Did you just meet me?” Somehow she found the discretion not to point out that he’d been repressing his emotions and urges for years and that it had resulted in his mostly being isolated and grim. Did he even realize how much more he’d smiled and laughed in the past week?