Her Christmas Hero. Lorraine Beatty

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СКАЧАТЬ twinkling like emeralds. “That’s very kind of you. I’m sure Francie would have brought it herself if she was here.”

      Linc frowned. Was she implying that he obviously hadn’t thought of this himself? She was right, but he didn’t like the idea that she could read him. “Actually, I wanted to bring it as an apology gift, too.” Good move. Now he was back on track. “I wasn’t very hospitable yesterday when you arrived. I didn’t know Mom had leased the cottage. And, uh, I’ve been too busy to get over here before this.”

      She raised an eyebrow, then dropped her gaze down to his feet and his untied laces. “And you were so anxious to get the pie to me that you forgot to tie your shoes?”

      “No. I—” Heat infused his neck and cheeks. Linc Montgomery didn’t like being off balance. He was always the one in charge. This woman was downright irritating.

      “My son does that when he’s in a hurry to finish an unpleasant task. Like taking out the garbage, or bringing a pie to a neighbor.”

      Her eyes weren’t twinkling now. They were dark and challenging. Well, he’d show her. He flashed his best smile. “A neighbor I should get to know better. Where would you like me to put this?” He stepped closer, edging past her to the door. She was not going to get the best of him.

      She moved aside, following him into the living room. “Just put it in the kitchen.”

      He smiled over his shoulder. “It’s frozen.”

      “So you didn’t bake it yourself, then?”

      “I could have.” He cringed at the stupidity of that remark. He could no more bake a pie than knit a sweater. Mr. Smooth Moves with the ladies was playing one-upmanship with a girl. No, a woman. A disturbingly attractive and quick-witted one at that.

      She stood in the small eating area while he placed the pie on the counter. He looked at her and smiled again. She didn’t smile back. “So is there anything I can do for you? Anything need fixing, problems with the house, something up high I can get down for you?”

      She arched her brows. “Everything is fine. We don’t need a thing. And I have a step stool.”

      “Hey, Mom.” The boy charged into the room, his shoes squeaking on the floor when he stopped. “Hi, Mr. Linc.”

      Linc searched his memory for the boy’s name. “Hey, Evan.” He noticed the junior-size football in the boy’s hands. “You play?”

      “Naw. Mom can’t throw and I don’t know anyone yet.”

      “I’ll play with you. Just holler. When you see that red truck at the main house that means I’m home. I love football.”

      The boy’s face split in a wide smile. “Did you play?”

      “Sure did. All through college.”

      “Pro, too?”

      “No. I wasn’t tall enough.” He shrugged. “Only six feet.”

      “Drew Brees is only that tall.”

      “Yes, but he has talent.”

      Evan chuckled, then hurried from the room.

      Gemma gave him a cool glare. “That was very nice of you. Assuming you follow up on your offer?”

      “Why wouldn’t I?”

      She shrugged. “I’ve learned people say a lot of things they don’t mean. Promises aren’t worth much.”

      “They are to me.”

      “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

      He’d had enough. This woman was getting under his skin. She shoved him off balance every time she spoke, and with every glance from those incredible green eyes. Seeing a pen and notepad on the counter, he scribbled down his cell number. “If you need anything, call. Day or night. I mean that.”

      “Of course you do. Your mother would tan your hide if you didn’t. Right?”

      Either she didn’t think much of him or she knew his mother better than he’d expected. Whatever—he wasn’t going to expend any more effort on making her feel at home. His mom could do that when she got back. “Good night.” He walked past the table and noticed the photos from last year’s Christmas events. Beside them were sketches of the same scenes, only far more elaborate. He touched one sketch with his fingertips. “What are these?”

      Gemma came to his side. “My designs for decorating the downtown.”

      “But this looks nothing like it did last year.”

      “That’s the point. The Chamber wants to expand everything. More lights, more activities, more decorations.”

      “Why?”

      “To bring in more business. Over the next few years they’d like to see Dover become a Christmas destination spot.”

      “Does my mother know about this?”

      “Yes. Of course.”

      Blindsided again. Linc nodded and made his way to the door. Everything in his life was upside down and backward. Gemma followed him.

      “Thank you for the pie.”

      He stopped and looked back at her, caught again by how lovely she was. “You’re welcome.”

      Linc made his way down the steps, nearly tripping on his laces. He propped his foot up on a planter and tied them before marching back to the house.

      This Gemma was going to completely change Dover’s Christmas. He liked it the way it was. Time to have another talk with his mother. Surely she didn’t intend for this woman to toss out the cherished holiday celebrations.

      Suddenly his mom’s suggestion that he attend the Chamber meetings and help Gemma sounded like a great idea. His mom was right about one thing. He did know the Christmas events down to the last plastic poinsettia. He’d make sure she didn’t destroy the holiday traditions the people in this town treasured—and that she kept things the way his mother always had.

      * * *

      Gemma closed the door behind Linc, then returned to the kitchen and stared at the pie. That had to have been Francie’s idea. She seriously doubted Linc would think of that on his own.

      She smiled as she imagined Linc’s reaction to Francie’s request to bring a pie to the new tenants. No doubt he’d whined and rolled his eyes the way Evan did when faced with an unpleasant task. Why else would Linc traipse over here with his shoes untied?

      When she’d seen him coming up on the porch, she’d braced for another confrontation and assumed her most pleasant expression. The one she used for clients who were inclined to be difficult. But when she’d opened the door, he’d looked stunned—and confused. He’d recovered quickly, unleashing his charm, but it was obvious he was unhappy with playing gentleman host.

      It was all a wasted effort where she was concerned. She СКАЧАТЬ