A Little Bit of Holiday Magic (8 page)

Men.

As if one man’s hospitality to two strangers was an affront to the other. She didn’t get it. Them.

Liam seemed oblivious to what was going on. He sucked on the straw in his chocolate milk, his small hand touching Bill’s larger one.

“So how’s Muffy?” A French fry dangled from Bill’s fingers. A mischievous smile lit up his face. “I heard the two of you have been dating.”

Grace rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her pale ale.

Thad cleared his throat. “We’ve gone out a few times. Nothing serious. You went out with her, too.”

“Once or twice. I’m not dating anyone now.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s December.” Thad emphasized the month. “Some guys would rather let women fend for themselves at the holidays than cough up money to buy them a present. You’ve always been a fan of leaving women waiting.”

Oh, brother. This could take all night.
Grace shoved aside her plate, propped an elbow on the table and leaned her head against her hand, forgotten.

The two men stared at each other, as if sizing up a rival or trying to make him back down.

Forget cutting the tension with a knife. They would need an ax or a chainsaw.

The din of the customers around them rose. Their silence increased the pressure at the table.

Time to intervene. She didn’t think logic would help, but needed to say something. “A car might be more practical for me than a truck.”

Both men startled, then nodded.

Good. She had their attention. “Though I’m attached to the old pickup and I need a way to get our things to Astoria.”

“I have a truck,” Thad said.

“So do I.” Bill put more ketchup on Liam’s plate. “I’m happy to drive your things to the coast.”

“Same here,” Thad said. “I have an aunt in Long Beach. That’s across the Columbia River and a little north. I can stay with her.”

Bill grimaced. “You can make the drive there and back in a day.”

“Unless Grace needs help unpacking.”

“Grace has moved a lot. She knows how to unpack.”

Thad shrugged, undaunted. “She still might want help.”

Bill scooted forward. “I’m happy to help, too.”

She made a T with her hands. “Time out, guys. I was just making conversation. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

The two men kept glancing at each other, as if checking the other’s position.

Liam climbed out of his seat and onto Bill’s lap.

Thad’s nostrils flared.

Grace shot forward with a thrill.

Okay, she was twenty-six, not sixteen, but she’d never had two guys act this way over her. It was...nice. Immature and silly, but flattering.

“Hey.” A pretty woman with braided brown hair and warm brown eyes stood next to their table, with a tall, handsome man behind her. “Enjoying yourselves?”

Thad pressed his lips together.

Bill took a French fry off Liam’s plate.

Someone needed to be polite. Grace smiled. “The food is delicious. The beer, too.”

“I’m Leanne Thomas. This is Christian Welton.” The woman extended her arm. “You must be Grace. Paulson—I mean Bill—mentioned you.”

She shook the woman’s hand. Bill had called Leanne his best friend. “I’m Grace Wilcox. This is my son, Liam.”

Liam burrowed his head between Bill’s neck and shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I wanted to tell Bill our table’s ready. Looks like I was just in time—” Leanne motioned to Bill and Thad “—otherwise these two might have had a territorial pissing match right here in the dining room. Jake wouldn’t have liked that.”

Bill and Thad united to glare at Leanne.

Grace swallowed her laugh and eyed the woman with respect.

“Jake Porter owns the brewpub,” Christian said to Grace.

Liam reached across Bill and grabbed a French fry.

“We wouldn’t want to upset the owner,” Grace said. “Thanks for diffusing the, um, situation.”

Christian winked. “We’re firefighters. That’s what we do.”

The iceberg-size diamond engagement ring on Leanne’s finger sparkled. Grace remembered what Bill had said. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” Eyes twinkling and face beaming, Leanne held her fiancée’s hand. “We’re getting married on Saturday.”

She looked at Christian with such pure love that Grace’s heart ached. She missed having that mutual adoration with someone. The squabbling between Bill and Thad might amuse her, but was no substitute. Not even close. “Best wishes for a happy life together.”

The server brought the check.

Bill reached out his hand. “I’ll take it.”

“No, I will.” Thad tried to snatch the bill. “You didn’t eat.”

Bill kept his arm extended. “My treat for you helping Grace.”

“I got it, dude. I invited her to dinner,” Thad countered.

They fought like boys seeing who got to shoot the new Nerf gun first. A town the size of Hood Hamlet probably didn’t have many single women to choose from. Grace must be the new toy the guys wanted to play with. She sighed, then looked at Leanne. “Are they normally like this?”

“No. Not these two.” A puzzled expression crossed Leanne’s face. She stared at Bill with Liam on his lap. “This behavior is highly unusual.”

Grace was ready to go back to Bill’s place. She took the black portfolio from the server. “Dinner is my treat.”

Both men protested.

“Sorry, boys.” Grace scanned the bill for the total and calculated the tip. She’d always been good with numbers. Now she had a degree in accounting. “You snooze, you lose.”

Leanne laughed. “You’re going to fit in well around here.”

“Thanks, but I won’t be here long.” Grace removed two twenties and a ten from her wallet, then slid the money inside the folder. “Liam and I will be on our way to Astoria soon.”

“Too bad.” Leanne sounded genuinely disappointed. “But Astoria isn’t that far away.”

“Less than three hours,” Bill said.

“One hundred and fifty miles at the most,” Thad said at the same time.

“As I said, not far.” Leanne grinned like a bride on a shopping spree in Tiffany’s. “Come on, Bill. Time for dinner.”

Leanne and Christian walked to an empty table on the far side of the dining area. Bill remained seated.

“Go on,” Grace urged him. “We’re finished.”

Bill didn’t move. “You need a ride home.”

“I’m driving them back to the house,” Thad said.

“I will.”

“Liam’s car seat is in my truck.”

“I know how to install a car seat,” Bill said. “The station holds clinics.”

Grace put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, okay? Liam’s tired. You haven’t eaten. We’re going home with Thad.”

“No, you’re not,” Bill said.

“Yes, I am.”

Thad shook his head. “I have to drive Grace home so we can put together a counteroffer for the claims adjustor.”

“Counteroffer?” Bill asked.

“The claims adjustor wants to total the truck, but gave Grace a lowball offer,” Thad explained. “I’m going to help her research what the truck is worth.”

“Then get going. I take it you know what will sway the adjustor.”

Thad nodded.

Bill stood, then put Liam back in his seat. “Tomorrow, I’ll take Grace to look at a replacement.”

Thad rose. “I’ll put together a list of reliable, safe vehicles. But don’t buy anything without me.”

“I’m right here, guys,” Grace said to no one in particular.

“Paulson,” Leanne shouted. “Get your sorry ass over here. I’m hungry.”

His gaze locked on Grace. “I’m starving.”

Her pulse skittered.

“Dinner won’t take long.” Bill’s gaze raked over her as if she would be dessert. “I’ll be home soon.”

Liam clapped.

Grace gulped.

Bill’s words sounded like a warning.

Yet anticipation zipped from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes. Awareness of the man thrummed through her veins.

If Grace knew what was good for her, she would call it a night before he arrived home.

Or maybe she would put Liam to bed and take her chances.

Dessert might be exactly what she needed.

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
URNING
 
HIS
 
TRUCK
 
onto the driveway, Bill hit the garage door opener. No sign of Thad or his pickup.

Good. Bill didn’t want to get into a fight.

The garage door lifted.

His headlights lit up the boxes and plastic bins from Grace’s pickup. He tightened his grip on the leather-covered steering wheel.

He wasn’t proud of his behavior at the brewpub, but seeing Grace with Thad had turned him into a caveman. He had wanted to stomp on any guy who eyed her as O’Ryan did, or took her to dinner, like Thad. Bill had never felt that way about anyone.

Not even Cocoa Marsh, the only woman he’d ever thought about dating more than a few times.

Bill drove into the garage.

He’d been bummed about Cocoa hooking up with her ex-flame, gold medal snowboarder Rex Billings. Until Bill had met a cute snow bunny a week later. What was that girl’s name? She’d been blonde and hot enough to make him forget why he’d been attracted to Cocoa in the first place.

He turned off the ignition and removed the keys.

Over dinner, Leanne had called him on his behavior, rather his “childish, territorial chest-puffing.” She could be such a hardnose, but he loved her like a sister. Still, he wasn’t about to open up to her.

Not after the abuse he’d received at the station over Cocoa, Leanne’s former roommate. Discussing Grace was off-limits with everyone.

He’d backtracked during dinner. Shot from the hip, hoping something he said about boys being boys appeased her. Lied his butt off.

What else could he do?

Admit he thought Grace was hot? That he liked spending time with her and her kid? That he wanted them to stay in Hood Hamlet as long as possible?

Nope. Bill couldn’t admit any of those things.

Because they weren’t true. Not really.

He exited the truck.

Bill was just a little lonely due to no dating in December. He didn’t want a girlfriend. He didn’t want a relationship. He sure as hell didn’t want a ready-made family.

Monogamy and commitment were not in his DNA. He wasn’t going to fail like his dad by saying “I do,” when the only words out of his mouth should be “I can’t.”

He opened the door to the laundry room.

Grace was attractive. But she didn’t seem like a fling kind of woman. More like an on-bended-knee-proposal kind. A forever kind.

That was why his mom worried he’d break Grace’s heart. Leanne had warned him off over dinner. Even Christian had pointed out Grace had to be stressed, and needed friends with no agenda.

No problem.

Bill would keep his distance. Be her friend, her bud, her pal. He would treat her like Thomas. Okay, maybe he’d be nicer than that.

Inside the house, he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the dryer.

He accepted he wasn’t the right guy for Grace, but knew Thad Humphreys wasn’t, either.

Sure, Thad was an upright, responsible, respectable citizen. No one in Hood Hamlet would disagree.

Bill walked through the dining area to the living room.

The mechanic spent every New Year’s Eve giving free rides to drunk drivers and towing their cars home. He’d dropped out of college at age nineteen to take over his family’s garage and support his mother and sisters, after his father had a massive coronary and died at the age of forty-two. Thad had made sure Hannah Bishop’s cars ran perfectly, maintaining them for free after Nick died and before she’d married Garrett Willingham.

A good man.

But not the one for Grace, and by default, Liam, since the two were a package deal.

Bill’s gut told him Thad was wrong for her. Instincts had kept Bill alive and out of trouble all his life. He trusted his instinct to be right now.

He needed to make sure Grace left town with a reliable vehicle and her heart in one piece. Totally possible. Totally his plan.

Giggles sounded from down the hall.

Liam.

Water ran.

The bathtub.

The door to the hall bathroom was closed, but he heard voices, and water splashed.

Taking a shower sounded good. He needed to wash away the smells of the mountain and sweat. A steady stream of icy water would clear his head and put him in the right frame of mind to see Grace.

Ten minutes later, Bill dried off, feeling clean and smelling better. He’d calmed down about Thad, too. Grace was moving to Astoria to make a fresh start. Getting involved with Thad or anyone in Hood Hamlet would be a complication, something she didn’t seem to like. Bill didn’t like them, either.

He slid into a pair of flannel sleep pants, then reached for a shirt.

The phone rang.

The receiver wasn’t in the charger on the nightstand. He tossed the shirt on the bed, jogged out to the living room and answered the phone. “Hello.”

“I hope you’re not upset with me.”

His mother sounded contrite. She should be.

“Not upset.” He cradled the phone against his shoulder as he tied the drawstrings at his waistband. “But you shouldn’t go off half-cocked about things and people you know nothing about.”

“Perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part.”

Yeah, right. She’d been upset, not hopeful. But the last thing he needed was her grandma clock to start ticking. “Just so you know... Not. Going. To. Happen.”

“Going skiing tomorrow?”

He was grateful she’d changed the subject. “After I take Grace to look at cars.”

“Liam will hate car shopping,” his mother said.

“We’ll bring toys.”

Silence filled the line.

“I’ll come over and watch him,” his mother offered. “That way Grace can concentrate on looking at cars and not worry about Liam.”

“I’ll ask her.”

“I’ll be ready in case she says yes and you want to get an early start.”

His mother sounded so enthusiastic about babysitting. That wasn’t like her. She volunteered in the nursery at church on Sundays, giving her something to do besides hovering over him. “It’s my day off. No early starts unless we’re talking Alpine climbing,” he answered.

“Let me know what time.” His mother made her familiar smacking-kiss noise. “Sweet dreams.”

He said good-night and disconnected from the call.

A door shut.

Bill turned and saw Grace standing with an odd expression on her face. “Where’s Liam?”

“Asleep. Baths do that to him sometimes.” She motioned to the phone in his hand. “Need to make a call?”

“I was talking with my mom. She offered to watch Liam tomorrow while we look at cars.”

“You don’t have to take me out.”

“We’re going.” His wanting to take her had nothing to do with Thad Humphreys. Bill wanted to help Grace. Getting her a safe, reliable vehicle was the first step to her leaving town. He returned the phone to the charger. “We can take Liam with us if you don’t want to leave him with my mom.”

Grace walked toward him. “I’m sure Liam would rather stay home and play with your mom than have to look at cars for a few hours.”

The baggy T-shirt Grace wore didn’t hide the bounce of her breasts. Her hips swayed seductively.

His temperature spiked.

The tip of Grace’s tongue darted out and dragged across her lower lip.

Damn, she was sexy.

Look, don’t touch.

Except looking might get him in trouble tonight.
Pretend she’s Leanne or Zoe or Carly or Hannah.
But all he could see was Grace. “I’ll, um, let my mom know. Did Thad help you get what you needed?”

“Yes, he did. He was so helpful. A very nice guy.”

Helpful. Nice. Bill wanted to choke. But he was going to be good guy, too, and not say a word. For Grace’s sake. “Glad it worked out.”

Her eyes shone, sparkled, as if full of tiny diamonds. “Tonight at the brewpub, you and Thad were going at each other.”

“Men being men. Nothing else.”

“That’s what Thad said, too.”

Bill rocked back on his heels. “Did he say anything else?”

She closed the distance between them. “Just that he was happy to help me however he could.”

“I’m happy to do the same.”

“I appreciate that.” Something flickered in Grace’s eyes. She touched his shoulder.

Her fingertips seared his skin. He sucked in a breath. “What...?”

“You have tattoos.”

Heat emanated from the point of contact. His pulse kicked up a notch. Okay, three. “A couple.”

“Who’s Nick?”

Bill tried to think. Not easy to do with her so close, touching him. He took a deep breath. Focused.

Oh, yeah. The memorial tattoo.

“Nick was a good friend killed climbing Mount Hood.” Warmth flooded Bill. He tried not to think about Grace’s fingertips outlining the scrolled name. “We grew up together. Hung out. He taught me to climb, fish, hunt. Pretty much everything having to do with the outdoors. He was a couple of years older. The closest thing to a big brother Leanne and I had. Nick was a total jokester, too. He wore the stupidest Santa hat. The ball lit up and turned different colors. We used to give him so much crap over that hat.”

“Sounds like a good guy.”

“The best. I think about him every day.”

Grace trailed her finger down Bill’s arm, making his nerve endings dance and spark. “This tattoo looks job related.”

“A helmet with our squad name.” He ground out the words. If she didn’t stop touching him, he was going to want to touch her. He needed another cold shower or a whopping dose of reality. “Did your, um, husband have any tattoos?”

Her lips parted. She pressed her arm against her side. Her hands balled, then she released them.

A mix of regret and relief washed over Bill. He missed her touch, but knew this was for the best—the best for Grace.

She raised her hand and brushed his right biceps, her fingers soft and warm.

Damn, he hadn’t expected her to touch him again, but he liked it. More than he should.

“Damon had several.” She drew an arc across Bill’s skin, sending pleasurable sensations bursting from his nerve endings. “A Ranger Scroll from the 3/75 here.”

“Three seventy-five?”

“Third battalion.” She traced a line to the back of Bill’s shoulders, starting sparks shooting down his arm. “He had the Ranger DUI here.”

Bill had no idea what was going on. He didn’t care, even if he should. He’d given her the chance to stop. She was the one who started it. Both times. Talk about a turn-on. “I have a feeling that doesn’t mean driving under the influence.”

“Distinctive Unit Insignia.” She drew something on his shoulder blade, making his temperature shoot up another ten degrees. “It’s the insignia on a Ranger’s tan beret, a shield with four quadrants. One with a sun, another a star and two with a lightning bolt.”

Her hand remained on Bill.

His heart pounded, so loud he was aware of each beat. Blood rushed where he didn’t want it to go.

Common sense told him to back away. Too bad he was never one to do what he was told when a beautiful woman was touching him.

Might as well go all in. “Did your husband have any others?”

She ran her fingertip up across Bill’s right shoulder to the left side of his chest.

Something fluttered, a tightness, a pang.

“One was right here.” She drew a heart. “For me.”

His groin tightened. His temperature spiraled until he was downright feverish. All he could think about was kissing her hard on the lips until neither of them could breathe or see straight.

But he couldn’t, could he?

Bill tried to focus. He attempted to shut off the X-rated fantasies playing in his mind. All the words of caution from his mom, Thomas and Welton, along with his own, echoed in his brain. He couldn’t offer what Grace wanted or needed. Yet here they were....

His gaze locked on hers. “What are you doing?”

She lifted her chin, giving him a great view of her neck, a neck that should be showered with kisses. His kisses.

Her face flushed. “I...I don’t know.”

That made two of them. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to kiss you.”

The corners of her mouth curved into a slow smile. “Not if I kiss you first.”

* * *

Oh, my. Oh, my. Oh, my.

Grace couldn’t believe she’d said the words aloud. Oh, she’d been thinking them. Insane.

She forced herself to breathe. Not an easy task when each breath was coming quicker and quicker.

A come-here-sexy-lady grin crinkled the corners of Bill’s eyes. “I’m waiting.”

Oh, boy. She had never been flirty or forward. Not ever. But seeing Bill shirtless had ignited a fire deep inside her belly. Her fingers had tingled, aching to touch him. She’d wanted two servings of dessert.

Temporary insanity?

More likely loneliness and raging hormones.

But she couldn’t help herself.

Memories had stirred. Feelings. Desire.

She’d needed to touch him. So she had.

And now...

Grace stared at his wide shoulders and muscular arms. Her gaze lowered to his solid chest and rock-hard abs. The waistband of his pajama pants rode low on his hips.

She looked up at his face. His mouth. Lips.

One kiss. That was all she wanted. A little kiss.

Something to remember him by. Something secret. Something hers alone.

Grace rose up on her tiptoes. She brushed her lips against his.

Sparks erupted. Heat flared.

Wowza.
Forget fireworks. They could have their own Fourth of July celebration right here in December.

She pressed harder against his mouth, soaking up his heat and taste. Her nerve endings shivered. She wanted more.

“Grace...” It sounded like a half groan, half plea. “We shouldn’t.”

His words proved Bill was a good guy. But she didn’t want to stop. “Please. A little more.”

There. She wasn’t being greedy.

Bill answered her with more kisses. His lips parted, moved skillfully over hers. Tasting, teasing, pleasing.

Grace’s legs wobbled, her knees weak from the sensations shooting straight to her toes. Light-headed from the kisses, she leaned against his firm chest.

So strong.

His arms wrapped around her, embracing her with strength and warmth and a sense of belonging she’d never thought she’d feel again.