Twelve Dates of Christmas: The Ballad of Lula Jo (Lonesome Point) (6 page)

“Hello there,” she said, smiling up at him. “Your ears must have been burning. We were just talking about you.” She waved him inside. “Come on in. Lula got here about an hour ago.”

“She’s here?” Carter asked, surprised. He hadn’t thought Mia and Lula were close. “Is she okay?”

Mia’s eyes widened as she nodded. “Yes. She is,” she whispered. “She’s very okay, more okay than I can ever remember. You’re good for her.”

“Who is it, Mia?” Lula called from the back room. A moment later Lula stepped through the curtain into the shop, looking gorgeous in a gray and pink dress. She froze as their eyes met across the room. “Carter, hi.”

“Hi,” Carter echoed, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

She looked so beautiful, with her long legs accentuated by the short dress and the fabric bringing out the pink in her cheeks. She’d done something with her hair, too, and now the curls he’d admired last night looked fuller and moved easily around her shoulders as she cocked her head, studying him as the silence stretched between them.

“Why don’t I go upstairs and finish supper,” Mia said, backing toward the stairs at the front of the shop. “You two take your time and holler if you want to join me and Sawyer. There’s enough baked ziti and salad for everyone.”

“Thank you, Mia.” Lula’s gaze softened as she glanced at her cousin. “I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

“Of course,” Mia said. “Anytime! You look amazing! And I want you to keep the dress. With the bump on the rise, I won’t be able to wear it again for ages anyway.”

Lula thanked her cousin again, and Mia disappeared up the steps.

They were alone, but the silence still lingered.

Carter had been prepared to appeal to Mia for help; he hadn’t been prepared to see Lula looking changed in a way that seemed to go deeper than a new dress or haircut.

“I’m sorry I ran away this morning,” she finally said.

“It’s okay.” He smiled. “I was just worried. I’ve never known you not to open up the shop before.”

“This was the third time in thirteen years.” She glanced down at her shoes, a shiny pair of heels that made her legs look even longer. “The first time was Aunt Louise’s funeral, the second was my mom and dad’s fortieth wedding anniversary.”

Carter nodded, taking his hat off and running a hand through his hair as he crossed the room. “I figured you hadn’t changed that much. I was afraid something was wrong, so I came to ask Mia for your cell number.”

“I don’t know how much I’ve changed,” Lula said, fingertips trailing nervously along the cream surface of the checkout counter. “I feel like I’ve been going through my life half asleep, and then all of a sudden you showed up. So now I’m awake, but I’m not sure…” She took a breath and looked up at him with those searching, clever eyes he remembered. “I’m scared, but I don’t want to be a coward.”

Carter reached out, gently taking her hand. “I’ve been scared ever since I booked the flight to San Antonio. I was afraid you’d think I was crazy or that you’d hate me or that you’d kick that stupid gnome down the stairs and tell me to go straight to hell.”

Lula smiled as she wrapped her fingers around his palm. “I put the gnome in the pantry. I’m still deciding whether he’s allowed out to play in the front yard. I told you there are no Christmas gnomes in my collection.”

“I know,” he said, relishing how good it felt to just hold her hand. “But you’ve got some cute little guys. I had a long time to look around the garden today while I was waiting for you to open the door.”

“I had some serious thinking to do,” she said, a faint smile curving her lips. “And then I had to eat all the cheese you left last night and come sweet talk Mia into cutting my hair since none of the salons are open on Sundays.”

“It looks beautiful.
You
look beautiful.”

Lula blushed. “Thank you, but I did this for me, not for you. I haven’t taken care of myself in years and that has to change because
I
value my health and a well-rounded life, not because an old flame came back into town. You may have woken me up, Carter, but if I’m going to stay awake, I have to do it for myself, by myself.”

Carter’s chest tightened. “Does this mean you want me to go?”

Lula shook her head. “No, it means I want you to stay and be my friend. We can still go climbing and the other things we talked about but just as friends for now. Okay?”

“So should I stop holding your hand?” he asked, his grip tightening as he spoke. “Because I really don’t want to.”

Lula’s lashes fluttered as she glanced down at their hands and then back up into his eyes. “I guess hand holding is okay, but…”

“But what?” he asked with a smile. He was disappointed, but no less determined to win Lula over. Friends was a place to start, and he loved her for so many reasons aside from how much fun they’d had in bed.

“Why me, Carter?” she asked, her pale brows pinching together. “I mean, you’re a good-looking man who’s lived this wild life and has so many amazing stories to tell. I’m sure you could find plenty of beautiful, uncomplicated women to be involved with.”

“I prefer beautiful, complicated women,” he said. “Particularly this one in front of me.”

Lula’s frown deepened, his answer obviously not satisfying.

“I’ve been involved with other women,” he said honestly. “I even tried to convince myself I loved one or two of them, but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t like this.” He squeezed her fingers again and felt the connection between them humming up his arm to spread out across his entire body. “Can’t you feel it, Lula? The way it’s just…right? Just the way we’re able to talk after years apart is so rare. This is why it was so good between us, and why it can be good again.”

“You know how I said I needed to take it slow?” she asked, continuing when Carter nodded. “Well, I think a snail’s pace might be more accurate. I need time, Carter. And I need to be friends first, but if that isn’t okay with you, then—”

“It’s fine with me,” he said, reluctantly releasing her hand. “So I will say a friendly goodbye and let you enjoy supper with your family. But could I take you to a movie tomorrow? They’re showing
A Christmas Story
at the theater downtown.”

“Sounds like fun,” Lula said, leaning against the counter as he backed away. “See you around six thirty?”

“Six thirty,” he confirmed, turning toward the door, but stopping when Lula said his name.

“Thank you,” she added as he glanced over his shoulder. “For understanding.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’ve become a patient man, L.J. Especially when it comes to the things in life that are worth waiting for.” He waved goodbye, slipping his hat onto his head as he stepped out into the night.

It was true, he
was
a patient man, but that didn’t mean he intended to make it easy for Lula to hold him at a friendly distance. He knew her better than she realized, and he intended to use that knowledge to get her back in his arms, where she belonged.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lula

On their first night out, she and Carter found seats at the back of Lonesome Point’s one-screen theater and shared a bag of peppermint-chocolate drizzled popcorn while watching
A Christmas Story
. Half the town was crowded into the small theater and Lula ended up sitting elbow to elbow with Trish Mullens from her book club.

At first, she was shy about introducing Carter to Trish and highly conscious of the curious looks from everyone who spotted Lula wearing an uncharacteristically vibrant orange dress while out on a date. But by the time Ralphie began to daydream about his Red Ryder BB gun, Lula was lost in the movie and the feeling of her fingers brushing Carter’s as they reached for the same piece of popcorn.

By the end of the movie, the rest of the world had faded away, until there was nothing but warmth spreading through her chest and a different kind of warmth curling in her belly. It had been a scandalously long time since she’d been with a man, not since her ill-fated long distance relationship with a university librarian in San Antonio five years ago, the one that had ended when Steve decided to join a monastery.

During the past few years, she hadn’t missed physical closeness that much. No man had ever made her hunger for a sexual connection the way Carter had, and after a while, she had begun to doubt any man ever would. She had eventually allowed her libido to go dormant and resigned herself to more productive pursuits than attending singles mixers or internet dating.

But now Carter was back, walking beside her, filling her head with his sexy smell, warming her body with his as he pulled her in for a hug on her front stoop after the movie.

“That was fun,” he said, his breath ruffling her hair, making her skin tingle before he released her and stepped away, starting down the steps to the shop with a wave. “See you for climbing tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Lula echoed, lifting a hand and fluttering her fingers.

But her fingers weren’t the only thing fluttering, and Tuesday afternoon proved even more tingle-inducing than Monday night.

Lula’s blood started pumping faster the moment Carter helped her into her climbing harness—his hands lingering on her upper thighs as he adjusted the buckles—and didn’t let up for a solid hour and a half. Every time Carter reached out to help her onto the next ledge or his fingers brushed against her calf as he encouraged her to lift her foot a little higher to find the next foothold, her pulse would stutter anew.

By the time they were back at her truck, loading up the equipment, Lula was fighting the urge to tackle Carter to the ground and wrestle him out of his clothes. Only the knowledge that she was the one who had insisted they take things slow and Carter’s seeming ease with
just friends
gave her the strength to keep her hands to herself. After all, no one likes a gutless flip-flopper—or a frisky one—and if Carter were feeling the same relentless pull that she felt, surely he wouldn’t be able to walk away from her so easily.

But Tuesday’s date ended the same way Monday’s had, with a friendly embrace on the porch that lasted just long enough for Lula to become keenly aware of the firm muscles beneath Carter’s sweatshirt.

Then he was gone, trotting off like he didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, Lula went to bed cranky and achy and lay awake for hours, her restless legs shifting back and forth and her stomach churning. She tried to tell herself it was the rock climbing that was to blame, but she knew sore muscles weren’t the cause of the ache that gnawed away at her insides, reminding her of all the places she hadn’t been touched in so long.

Wednesday she and Carter shared a romantic supper at the local steak house, and Thursday they spent the evening in Lula’s living room, cuddled on the couch while one of the many versions of
A Christmas Carol
played on the television.

Less than a week earlier, Lula had been standing at her window thinking her own
bah humbug
thoughts, but now she wanted to mute Scrooge and make out in the flickering rainbow lights of the Christmas tree. She could imagine how beautiful Carter would look with the red and blue playing across his bare chest, the way his eyes would darken as she explored his skin with her fingers, her lips, her tongue…

“I’d better head out before I fall asleep,” Carter said halfway through the movie, leaping to his feet as Lula was mentally tracing a line from his manly pecs down to the thin trail of hair disappearing into his jeans.

But he bolted for the door without even a hug, leaving Lula alone on the couch, running her fingers over the warm place on the cushion where he’d been a moment before, filled with so much longing that she wanted to scream. Or cry. Or strip down to her underwear and beg Carter to come back over and see if he could resist the new black lace bra and panty set Mia had slipped into her mailbox as an early Christmas gift the day before.

Instead, she took a long cold shower that did nothing to cool her off and went to bed with her vibrator for the first time in longer than she could remember. But the silver bullet was a pathetic substitute for Carter’s kiss, Carter’s touch, and the way he used to hold her gaze as he pushed inside her, making something so intimate even more intense.

Friday dawned gray and cloudy, and Lula decided to play sick. She sniffed through the entire morning as she served customers and restocked the gift shop area, and when Carter came in for tea, she backed out of their plans to go caroling with Lula’s book club friends. She couldn’t make it through another evening of pretending to be just good buddies.

Carter was understanding—too understanding. He didn’t even seem upset that he would be spending the evening alone at his hotel.

Lula fumed silently through the rest of the day. That night, she barely slept, and the ache that had been making every cell in her body sore and frustrated was worse than ever.

Distance from Carter obviously hadn’t helped things, so Saturday afternoon she dressed in jeans and a festive red and white striped fleece and met him after work. They drove out to her cousin’s ranch and joined Mia and her family for a holiday trail ride through the Shermans’ expansive property. As they rode, she watched Carter’s backside shift in his saddle, a sight that made her mouth go dry and her hands grip the reins too tight.