Mistletoe Magic (7 page)

Almost skipping toward the kitchen, her holiday spirits surging, Melissa sang a Christmas carol as she fixed herself some dinner.

Chapter Four

“‘So the bearded troll made his home under the Brooklyn Bridge, just as he’d threatened to do,’” Melissa said in a low tone, widening her eyes as she peered around at the enthralled group of seven- and eight-year-old children. “‘He made everyone who wanted to use the bridge pay a very costly toll.’ That means people had to pay a lot of money,” she explained.

“What did he do if they didn’t have any money?”

“Why, he would frighten them, of course,” Melissa told the blond girl who had already put her thumb back in her mouth. “He was a very mean and greedy troll.”

She ducked her head to read from the open storybook in her hands, lifting her eyes every sentence or so to make sure the children were paying attention. She had no need to worry; they were a captive audience, hanging on to every dramatic word until the conclusion of the story.

“‘And so, when he tried to scare the old lady, the troll barely escaped being run over by a speeding car. “It’s not safe! It’s not safe!” he yelled as he stomped up and down, trying to shake the bridge so it would sway. That’s when the troll decided to return to his home in the big hollow tree in Central Park where he would mine gold to make fine jewelry like his ancestors before him.’” Melissa closed the book. A movement caught her eye, and she saw Rafe watching her from a short distance away. “Did anyone learn something from this story?”

“I know!” yelled a dark-haired boy as he wildly waved his hand. “Don’t play in traffic or you might get runned over.”

The girl next to him punched his arm and told him, “It’s supposed to be nobody likes you if you’re mean.”

“Naw! There’s gold buried in Central Park!” shouted another child.

“You have a very good imagination, Anthony,” Melissa said, laughing. “But if there was gold in Central Park, someone would have found it long ago.” Trying not to let Rafe’s presence interfere with her work, Melissa continued the dissection of the story and was amused by the diverse opinions of her young audience. As always, she led a discussion meant to inspire them to want to know more, which meant developing reading skills. “Now, who wants to check out this book?”

“Me!”

“Me!”

Luckily, Melissa had more than one copy. Small hands grabbed those as well as other books the children could take home. “You all have your library cards?” Heads nodded solemnly as several reached into their pockets to find them. “All right, go ahead, but no pushing in line.”

The children waved as they headed for the checkout desk.

“’Bye, Miss Ryan.”

“See you next week.”

“Enjoy your stories,” Melissa said, waving back.

“A troll, huh?” Rafe sauntered forward. “Nothing to say about fairies today?”

“I use any kind of story that I think is appropriate for the group and that will go with the books available on a particular week. The children seem to enjoy the variety.”

“I enjoy fairies myself,” Rafe said, his dark eyes roaming her shoulders as though he were looking for her wings. When he moved closer Melissa laughed a little nervously and shied away.

“I have clean-up detail before I leave,” she told him, stooping to pick up a stray piece of paper. “It will just take me a few minutes. I have to put these books back on the shelves.”

“No hurry. I enjoy watching you flit around.”

That statement, of course, made her more nervous. Melissa was already torn about going out with the man. She’d convinced herself Rafe was no playboy and that he had more going for him than that, but how could she be sure? He’d wasted no time in calling her, doing so from the deli down the street right after leaving her place the night before. Last night she’d thought the call flattering. Now she was wondering if Rafe wasn’t moving a little too fast.

When they walked out of the Midtown library, she thought her suspicions were confirmed when he suggested they grab an early dinner at an intimate little restaurant down the street.

“I—I’m not really hungry yet. Couldn’t we walk around for a little while and talk or something? Maybe we could eat later.”

“Anything you want,” Rafe told her, his smile making her pulse flutter. Melissa clasped her hands behind her back as they walked down the street and was pleasantly surprised when he talked about her work. “You were really something in there, you know. You had those kids eating out of your hand and loving every minute.”

“That’s what M.R.F. is all about.” He looked puzzled, so she explained, “Making Reading Fun. It’s a new federally funded reading enrichment program that encourages kids to read early. Right now I’ve got five- to eight-year-olds, but a few of the other teachers start with kids as young as two.”

“They teach two-year-old kids to read?”

“Not exactly. What they do is develop reading readiness.”

As they walked on, Melissa found herself relaxing in Rafe’s company, so that by the time they got to Fifth Avenue, she’d told him all about her hectic work schedule, running to two libraries a day on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Saturday while playing sugarplum fairy on Monday, Thursday, and Sunday, and about the roommate who’d eloped the month before, making both jobs necessary to Melissa’s survival.

“I really love my job with M.R.F., but one part-time job doesn’t pay the bills. If I’m lucky, one of these days I’ll find a full-time position that will give me the same satisfaction.”

She’d grown so comfortable with Rafe she hadn’t even noticed exactly when he’d taken her arm, but the gesture was comforting, especially when she slipped on a patch of ice and he prevented her from falling. Then his grip tightened. Imagining she could feel the warmth of his hand right through her thick down jacket made Melissa feel more jittery than secure, however.

They window-shopped down the avenue, eventually reaching Rockefeller Center. Continuing past the angels along the promenade, they headed for the ice-skating rink with its golden guardian, the gigantic statue of Prometheus, and the towering Christmas tree above and behind it. Carefully putting some space between herself and Rafe, Melissa admired the colored lights on the tree and watched the skaters on the frozen plaza below with a touch of nostalgia.

“I used to ice-skate on a frozen pond on our farm when I was a kid. I hadn’t realized I missed it.”

“We could skate now, if you like.”

Glancing at his expensive leather coat and wool slacks and at her own full apricot-colored skirt, she laughed. “I don’t think either one of us is appropriately dressed. Why don’t we plan to skate some other time when we’re better prepared? Maybe we could bring your kids.”

Rafe smiled at the suggestion. “Really? You wouldn’t mind taking the kids with us sometime?”

“Really. I’m from a close family, myself. As a matter of fact, I taught my two little brothers to skate—well, they’re not so little now, and they might not admit I taught them anything, but I did.”

“Gretta and Hank would love it if we took them skating. So would I, Melissa. You don’t know how thrilled I am to meet a woman who doesn’t mind my family ties.”

“I guess I miss my own,” she admitted.

They watched the skaters a little longer, Melissa drifting comfortably closer to Rafe as he put his arm around her shoulders. Once more she experienced the feeling that they were perfect for each other; their interest in and work with kids, the way they fit together physically.

Then her mind naughtily wandered to more intimate ways in which they might fit together. Fluttering excitement crept through her, bringing on a heated blush. Melissa ducked her head away from Rafe, not wanting him to guess the sensual wanderings of her mind. But then, did she have to worry? So far, he hadn’t been in the least pushy. It seemed like those kinds of ideas were all in her own head, not in his.

“Maybe we should get something to eat,” she blurted suddenly, trying to distract herself from continuing to fantasize about a man she hardly knew.

“I thought you’d never mention food,” Rafe said, something like gratitude reflected in his sexy eyes, making her feel giddy. “My poor, abused stomach thanks you. I was so busy this morning that I didn’t have time to grab lunch. I was half-starved when I picked you up at the library.”

Melissa flushed guiltily, remembering it was her paranoia about his questionable intentions that had prevented Rafe from eating. Now it was she who had the ideas. She immediately agreed to go to a restaurant several blocks away.

While they ate it was Rafe’s turn to talk about his job and how he’d apprenticed and then become partners with his father. “When he died Louise said she didn’t want to be alone. So we renovated the whole place and moved in with her.”

Melissa was sure “we” included Nicole as well as the children. It made her brave enough to ask, “Why does your ex-wife live in California?” What she really wanted to know was why he, rather than his ex-wife, had custody.

To her frustration he avoided saying anything of substance. “Nicole is still trying to find herself. She took a job in California last summer, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it doesn’t last and she moves on. She’s always liked changes, especially when they’re unexpected.”

“Sometimes the unexpected is fun, but I guess it must be hard on the kids.”

“Nicole loves Gretta and Hank as much as I do.”

From the closed look on his face, she could tell the subject was better left alone, but the fact that he didn’t make disparaging remarks about his ex-wife made Rafe a pretty nice man in Melissa’s opinion. That fact, added to his more obvious physical attraction, appealed to her, and yet she was reluctant to rush things. So when they finished their meal and he would have flagged down a taxi, she suggested they walk to her place.

Once on their way, Melissa couldn’t stop herself from anticipating the delicious things that could happen when they got there. This time she chastised herself for such imaginings much more reluctantly. It wasn’t as if she had similar thoughts about every man she dated. To Melissa, Rafe was the unexpected.

Following that thought, something unexpected did happen: a sewer cover popped up in the street, the noise startling Melissa into stopping. A shaggy head slowly rose above street level, then turned toward her and Rafe. An old man with a long beard crooked a filthy finger directly at her.

“He looks like one of those trolls you told the kids about. Maybe he wants to charge us to use the city sidewalks,” Rafe whispered humorously.

“Psst!” The grubby man crooked his finger again. Melissa stepped toward him, pulling her arm free from Rafe’s grasp, ignoring his exasperated protest. “Can you spare a buck, lady?” Sympathy for someone in poorer circumstances than she prompted Melissa to open her purse and pull out five dollars. It was almost Christmas, wasn’t it? After grabbing and inspecting the bill, the old man yelled, “Thanks!” Then his head bobbed down and the sewer cover was pulled back into place.

“Aren’t you concerned for your own safety, Melissa?” Rafe asked reprovingly as she turned back to him with a broad smile on her face. “How did you know that old bum wouldn’t hurt you?”

Her smile faded. “Rafe! He’s only a poor troll trying to make a living.” She thought he would laugh at that, but he scowled instead. Melissa frowned in return.

“More likely he’s an old wino and your generosity will be wasted on a bottle. Besides, I thought you needed money.”

Where was Rafe’s sense of humor? Melissa wondered. Her action obviously annoyed him, but she couldn’t understand why since he didn’t seem to be ungenerous. Could the responsibility of a family have made him overly practical? His shift in moods put a pall over the evening. They barely spoke for the next few blocks before he relaxed and took her arm.

Soon he had her amused with stories of his kids, and the evening ahead seemed to open with possibilities once more. She practically skipped up the six flights of steps while Rafe trudged behind her. But when they reached her landing and Melissa unlocked her door, he leaned against the doorjamb, puffing heavily.

“I hate to leave your charming company, but I’m beat, Melissa.” He touched her lips with his fingers. “It’s been a long day and I have an early shoot tomorrow morning.”

“On Sunday?” She tried to keep the disappointment from her voice.

“I’m afraid so. The holidays are hectic in my business.” He kissed her softly and backed off. “I’ll call you.”

Would he really? “Thanks for dinner,” she said brightly. “I enjoyed myself.”

Melissa entered her apartment, locking the door behind her. Thoughtfully, she made her way to the front room. Looking down, she watched until Rafe left her building and disappeared down the street. Had he really left because he was tired? Or because she gave an old bum some money? Or maybe he found her boring?

The last seemed most likely. Melissa knew she couldn’t compete with the beautiful models he must meet when he wasn’t working with children. Rather than being glad he hadn’t tried to push her into intimacy, Melissa was worried that he hadn’t seemed to want to. Where was her magic fairy dust when she needed it? She went to bed after convincing herself Rafe Damon would never call her.

But he did, the very next day, bolstering Melissa’s sagging spirits. They made plans to see each other later that week and to take the kids skating on the following weekend. She was looking forward to their next encounter with delicious anticipation.