Part 4 (1/2)
She went on. ”You wouldn't buy it if I had said I wanted it, would you?”
”Sorry,” he said. ”You must have me mistaken for that Samaritan guy. Or maybe Santa Claus. I do what's best for me. Period.”
”Oh, really? Then why did you ask?”
”Curiosity, that's all. Besides, I haven't decided yet if I want the place. It looks like a pretty good investment at first glance, but I never make a decision until I have my contractors inspect a place.”
”Oh. So step two is to send them up here to take a look.”
”That's right.” He pulled on his coat, started for the door, paused halfway there, and turned back around. ”Listen, are you sure you're going to be okay out here all by yourself overnight?”
She tipped her head to one side. ”You like me.”
”What are you talking about?”
”Why are you all concerned all of the sudden? You like me. Admit it.”
”I have barely met you.”
”Oh, so your concern for my safety here alone is based on you being what-that Samaritan guy, or Santa Claus?”
He pursed his lips, lowered his head. ”Okay. I like you.”
”I like you, too. Now don't worry. I've got plenty of food and water, the wood fire, lots of wood at hand, thanks to you.” She gave him a nod as she said that. ”And I have my cell phone. I'll be fine.”
”Just thought I'd check.”
”It's considerate of you.”
He met her eyes, and they held for a long moment. For one, incredible second, she thought he was going to kiss her. But then he licked his lips and turned again toward the door. ”Good night, Holly.”
”Merry Christmas, Matthew.”
He opened the door and headed through it, pulled it closed behind him. And then she was alone. She turned to face the empty house, and for just an instant, her heart whispered a longing. ”d.a.m.n,” it said, ”I sure wish he had stayed a little while longer.”
Knock, knock, knock.
Her head snapped up, and she spun to face the door, even as it opened. Matthew ducked inside fast, closed it hard, and stomped significant amounts of snow from his feet and his jeans.
He met her eyes, shook his head. ”I hate to impose, kiddo, but I can't go anywhere. Not until it lets up a little.”
Her smile was impossible to contain. She lowered her head to hide her face, and whispered, ”Thanks,” to the powers that be, for answering her wish. She tried to suppress the grin when she met his eyes again. ”You can stay as long as you want,” she told him. ”Actually, I'll be glad of the company.”
”Yeah. Every Christmas angel wants to spend her holiday with Ebenezer Scrooge.”
”Exactly.”
He looked at her with his brows lifted, but she ignored that and followed her instincts instead. She moved right up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her body to his. ”I'm really glad you came back.”
”Whoa.” His arms closed around her waist, and he hugged her right back. When he straightened away, he seemed puzzled and, she thought, pleased.
And why wouldn't any man be pleased to be warmly, genuinely welcomed. She broke the embrace, and went to the window to peer outside. The snow was falling at a rate that brought back a lot of memories. ”I think this is lake effect,” she told him.
”And that's supposed to mean...what exactly?”
She kept looking out the window. ”Depends on what kind of mood it's in, I guess. You up to another trip up to the attic?”
He peeled off his coat, hung it on the peg, and heeled off his boots. ”What do you need?”
”There's a trunk up there, chock full of blankets and bedding, if memory serves. Maybe you could bring them down? And any oil lamps you see up there. I know there were a few. We might need them. After that, you might want to take a swing at opening that couch up. It's a sleeper sofa. Meanwhile, I'm going to dig through my gear for the portable radio I brought, and just in time so I can listen for a weather report while I cook us dinner.”
”Don't tell me you're making a turkey with all the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs.”
”Don't be silly. That's for Christmas Eve. Tonight, it's burgers and fries.”
He sent her a look that registered surprise. ”Huh.”
”What?”
”I don't know. I guess I was expecting you to be a health food nut, if not a full-blown vegetarian.”
”You should not judge people by their appearances,” she said.
”You're right. I apologize.” He started for the stairs.
She said, ”Just a sec, Matthew.”
He turned, and she lowered her eyes and shrugged. ”I...um...the burgers?”
”Yes?”
”They're veggie burgers.”
He was quiet for a second, but then he laughed. It was a deep, slow building chuckle, but it grew, and by the time she managed to lift her gaze to meet his, his head was tipped back and he was laughing loudly.
She laughed, too, and it grew, each of them feeding off the other's silliness, until their laughter died and they stood there, grinning foolishly.
And then his smile faded and he said, ”So what about the turkey? Don't tell me it's tofu.”
”Turkey, once a year, for Christmas dinner, is the only meat I eat. It's tradition.”
”I guess that makes some kind of sense.”
”Traditions meant a lot to my mom. Especially Christmas ones.”
He nodded, holding her gaze, a smile still gleaming in his eyes. ”You know, I honestly can't remember the last time I laughed like that.”