Beneath the Mistletoe. Susan Crosby

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      She smiled wryly. “Yes.”

      Banner glanced at Bobby Ray. “At least we won’t have to worry that it will get too quiet.”

      It was another example of Banner’s odd sense of humor—and once again he’d said it without even a hint of a smile.

      “Very funny, Banner,” she muttered.

      He gave her a look that might have held a gleam of amusement. And, darn it, she felt her toes start to curl in response to that hint of a smile.

      Time to get control again. “Okay,” she said, “so what are we going to do with everybody? You have only two bedrooms, right?”

      Banner nodded. “The Carters can have mine, and Joan and the kids can have the other. Bobby Ray and I will bunk in the living room and you can sleep on the couch in my office.”

      “Your office?”

      He jerked his head toward a closed door on the far side of the kitchen. “In there.”

      She nodded. “That will work. What about—”

      Someone pushed her from behind. She turned to find Banner’s dog standing behind her, taking up most of the spare room in the kitchen. It was the first time she had seen the beast standing up, and he was nearly the size of a small horse. She hardly had to bend over to look straight into his lazy eyes.

      “He needs to go out,” Banner said. “You’re standing in his way.”

      “Excuse me,” Lucy said to the dog, scooting to one side.

      The dog made a grumbly sound that might have been a response, then ambled to the door, where he gave Banner a look over his shoulder. A gust of damp, icy air entered the room when Banner opened the door. The dog gazed dolefully out past the covered porch to the wet, ice-coated yard beyond. He gave a deep sigh, then walked out, his shaggy head already hunched in preparation for the elements.

      Lucy couldn’t help smiling at the mutt’s behavior. “He’s a very…interesting character.”

      Banner gave her another one of those looks that wasn’t quite a smile. “He’s excited by all the company.”

      “That’s excited? How can you tell?”

      “He’s awake.”

      She laughed. “I see.”

      Lucy stood back and watched as Banner pulled a big towel out of a cabinet. He opened the back door, letting dog and cold air inside again. After toweling the mutt off, he gave him a bone-shaped dog treat from a box he kept on the counter near the door. With a low “woof” of thanks, the dog strolled out of the room.

      Lucy grinned as she watched the long scraggly tail disappear through the doorway. She was beginning to like that dog a lot.

      She was still reserving judgment about his owner.

      Chapter Three

      Banner couldn’t remember this many people being in his house since—well, ever. Having brought in one of the straight-backed chairs from the dining room for himself, he sat uncomfortably in one corner of his living room, studying the others, who were watching a Christmas special on TV.

      The Carters were still resting; Banner wouldn’t be surprised if they were down for the night. They had both looked exhausted after dinner.

      Sprawled in Banner’s big leather recliner, Bobby Ray rubbed his bearded chin. His eyes were focused on the television screen, but his thoughts were obviously elsewhere.

      Joan and Tricia sat on Banner’s brown suede couch, Tricia’s head cradled on her mother’s lap. Tyler lay on the floor, using Hulk for a pillow. The dog seemed perfectly content to serve in that capacity; his head was on his paws and quiet snores escaped him every so often.

      Though he barely knew them, the children seemed subdued to Banner, probably still upset that their holiday plans had been disrupted. They watched the TV, but without much enthusiasm.

      Finally Banner turned his gaze to Lucy, who sat in the brown-and-tan-striped easy chair, leaving the Windsor rocker as the only unoccupied chair in the room. Banner had been trying to avoid looking at Lucy, but it wasn’t easy. She fascinated him. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the others, it was Lucy who kept drawing his attention.

      She seemed to be trying to watch the program, but judging by her restless fidgeting, she was having trouble concentrating. Banner got the distinct impression that she would rather be moving around and talking at her usual mile-a-minute rate. There was a lot of pent-up energy in that tidy little package, he mused, letting his gaze drift down her figure.

      He and Lucy seemed to be opposites. While he was content to spend days, even weeks, with no company but his own, Lucy probably preferred having lots of people around. She was gregarious, extroverted, impulsive, emotional. He was none of those things.

      A woman like Lucy would certainly have no interest in a socially awkward, frequently tongue-tied, oddball loner like Banner. But that certainly didn’t make him any less mesmerized by her.

      Another strong gust of wind rattled the windows, and the lights flickered again. Once, twice, three times before they stabilized.

      Tricia whimpered and Joan comforted her. Banner noticed that Lucy had paled a little and seemed to be chewing on her full lower lip. The prospect of being in the dark made her nervous, and when she was nervous she tended to babble, he reminded himself. She must be making quite an effort to remain quiet so the children could enjoy the television program.

      The singing and dancing gave way to a commercial, and Lucy looked away from the screen. Her gaze met Banner’s, and she gave him a tentative smile. “You don’t look very comfortable over there.”

      “I’m fine.” He didn’t know squat about being a host—and even less about running a bed and breakfast, which he seemed to be doing at the moment. He suspected he should be doing more than sitting in a chair staring at everyone like a silent sphinx. “Um, does anyone need anything?”

      Apparently, no one did. The room fell silent again except for the sounds from the TV speakers and the storm outside. Banner sat back to watch the show, but his attention kept wandering to Lucy, to his annoyance.

      The Christmas special ended at 9 p.m. By that time Tricia, Tyler and Hulk were all asleep, and Bobby Ray looked ready to join them.

      “I’d better get these two into bed,” Joan said, looking at her sleeping children.

      Bobby Ray stirred and rose to his feet. “Want me to haul the boy in there for you?”

      Joan glanced at him, then quickly away, and Banner wondered if the timid woman was unsettled by Bobby Ray’s size. But then, she seemed intimidated by Banner, too, and he was two inches shorter and a good seventy pounds lighter than the truck driver.

      “I can manage,” Joan said in the tone of a woman who was accustomed to taking care of herself and her children without assistance.

      Bobby Ray yawned again. “Then I’ll have a drink of water before turning in. You take the couch, Banner. The recliner’s СКАЧАТЬ