Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3) Read online

It may have been years since he’d seen that expression in those gray eyes, but the instant flashback hit with stunning force.

  She’d out-toasted him on purpose.

  But why should he be surprised? She’d always had a passion and talent for one-upping him. He gave a silent salute with his glass, downed the bubbly liquid, then headed to the bar for something stronger. The night stretched endlessly before him.

  Grandpa Butch tapped his shoulder about an hour later. “They’re startin’ the Grand March. Janey asked me to send you over.” He jerked a thumb toward the dance floor where a large arch woven with tiny white lights and pine boughs sat just inside a doorway near the DJ equipment.

  “Thanks, Grandpa.”

  Derek pushed away from the bar, leaving behind his warm, watered-down scotch on the rocks. Grand March, couple obligatory dances, say his goodbyes, and go home. After Christmas, Lisa Riley would leave again—she never stayed in town long—and he could forget all about this annoying attraction to a woman who drove him crazy.

  Chapter Two

  Lisa propped one bare shoulder against the doorway near the arch and surveyed the room. Apparently, everyone had changed around here but her. Her parents acted like teenagers on a date. Cute—as long as she didn’t think past first base. Mark and Eric were no longer just her brothers, they were men, with wives. Remarkable—considering she still had snapshots of them in their Scooby-Doo tightie-whities. Janelle Walsh now associated with people more than animals. Impressive and refreshing.

  And the man threading through the wedding guests toward her? Well, he’d knocked her off balance since the moment she stepped inside the church that afternoon. Derek Walsh had morphed from a tall, gangly boy who used to try to beat her at every damn single little thing to a good-looking guy who filled out his tux exactly the way a man was supposed to.

  Above average height herself, she usually went for tall, dark and handsome, but something about his fair-haired looks put the cliché to shame. Unsettling—to say the least.

  Like now. Just one glimpse of him disturbed the dormant butterflies in her stomach. Not those little yellow ones that flitted over the dandelions, either—these giant Monarchs irritated her insides.

  Damned if she could put her finger on why. She tilted her head to analyze his slightly mussed, not-too-short blond hair, modest sideburns, and strong jaw. He had nice lips, neither too full nor too thin, a straight nose, and thick eyebrows a little darker than his blond hair that set off his brown eyes.

  One feature didn’t necessarily make her say, “Hot damn,” but rather the entire combination had matured since high school to give the impression that here was a man who’d taken his place in the world and stood confident in his skin.

  Monarch wings beat unmercifully.

  So what. He’d also become a brooding jerk. First his bossy attitude at the church, and then his response to her toast. Well, what had he expected? As the saying goes, old habits die hard. The moment he’d insinuated he was closer to her family than she was, her rusty competitive streak rose up in aggressive protest. “Inside joke.”

  She’d shown him. Too bad the thrill of victory hadn’t lasted past his mocking salute.

  “Aunt Lisa?”

  Reese stood at her side, a multitude of black curls having escaped their confines in the wake of the little girl’s wedding enthusiasm.

  “Hi, sweetie, having fun?”

  “Yes.” Her head bobbed. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.” Lisa thought about how much she’d missed by staying away for so long. The most recent one day visits for Eric and Marissa’s wedding last year, and the twins’ birth this summer didn’t really count.

  Heather joined them, and Lisa knelt down to pull the two girls into a hug. “I can’t believe how big you two are getting.” She reluctantly released them and sat back on her heels. “Are you excited for Santa to come tonight?”

  A vigorous nod dislodged another curl from Reese’s demolished up-do.

  Lisa grinned. “Have you been good?”

  “Yep,” Heather replied, her sleek blonde ponytail neat as ever.

  “And, Derek promised he’d put in a good word with Santa,” Reese added.

  Lisa forced her smile to remain in place. “Why Derek?”

  Reese leaned close and cupped her hand to Lisa’s ear. “His grandpa is Santa Butch.”

  “Butch Walsh is Santa?”

  “Not the Santa,” Heather corrected. “He’s a helper, because Santa can’t watch all the kids, visit malls, have breakfast at schools, be in parades, and get the sleigh ready for Christmas Eve. Santa Butch has his own Naughty and Nice list that he e-mails to Santa just before the reindeer take off.”

  Ah. The List Derek had referred to. Stupid inside joke, if you asked her. She smiled at the girls. “E-mail, huh?”

  Reese stuck her hands on her hips. “Regular mail would take, like, for-ev-ver.”

  Lisa chuckled. “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Can you stay for Christmas tomorrow, Aunt Lisa?” Reese asked.

  There was a question—and another reason she’d countered Derek’s toast so soundly. Being back home, reminded of how successful she used to be, only served to magnify her current failures. Things didn’t look to improve anytime soon, either.

  She pasted on her brightest smile, because she’d meant it earlier when she said she wouldn’t overlook family anymore. “Yes, sweetie, I’m staying for a while this time.”

  “What?” Derek’s surprised growl sounded above and behind her.

  “Seriously?” This from Marissa, in front of her.

  “All right!” Reese exclaimed.

  Lisa rose, glancing from Marissa to Derek. One look at his frown and she focused on Marissa. “I’ve missed a lot being so far away in Indianapolis, so I thought it was time to come home.” That, and she had no money after quitting her crappy job just to get time off for the wedding.

  Marissa hugged her. “This is great!”

  Derek’s opinion of the new development projected without him speaking a single word. His expression reminded her of the day she’d been announced valedictorian and he salutatorian.

  There was no time to dwell on his displeasure as the DJ announced the beginning of the Grand March tradition. Reese and Heather skipped under the twinkling arch first, clearly overjoyed to be free of the twins who’d gone home with their Aunt Nikki after dinner. On the dance floor, they bounced with uncoordinated abandon to the upbeat tempo of the music.

  Jim and Jill, the married couple who’d served as the third groomsman and bridesmaid, followed at a more sedate pace when their names were announced. Derek stepped up alongside Lisa and she linked her arm with his. Forearm muscles flexed under her touch. A quick glance revealed a tight smile on his lips, and she mimicked it with her own. Showtime.

  Only someone goofed up the order of the names, and Eric and Marissa were called next. After an exchange of confused shrugs, Lisa shifted in front of Derek so the Maid of Honor and Best Man could go first.

  The lights on the arch flickered several times, accompanied by a sudden jingle of what sounded like hundreds of tiny invisible bells. Lisa’s reflexive retreat from the onslaught to her senses landed her heel on Derek’s foot and brought her flush against his body. A swift intake of breath hissed past her ear.

  “Sorry.”

  Large, warm hands settled on her hips, shifting her weight off his foot. “Don’t worry about it.”

  His gruff voice indicated pain, but turning to look at his face in the cramped space would place her directly in his arms. She eased further away, ignoring the eager leap of her pulse that argued with her common sense. Her gaze caught on Santa Butch as he exited the dance floor, and she wondered at the satisfied grin highlighting his rosy cheeks beneath his spectacles.

  “Daddy, Daddy—mistletoe rules!”

  Lisa’s gaze shifted to Reese. She followed the direction her finger pointed, to see a ball of mistletoe and holly berries hanging from the mid
dle of the archway. Eric and Marissa pulled up short. Lisa blinked. Had that been there before?

  Mark roared with laughter behind Lisa and Derek.

  “You sly dog,” Derek muttered under his breath.

  Lisa frowned over her shoulder. “What?”

  Derek shook his head, but a half-smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Nothing.”

  Eric curved his arm around Marissa’s waist. “Looks like Santa granted me an early Christmas present again this year.”

  From behind Derek, the bride and groom joined together and voiced their rowdy approval.

  “Santa’s got a soft spot for you,” Marissa told her husband.

  “All because of you, my dear.” Eric executed a smooth turn that laid Marissa back in his arms while he bent to capture her lips with his. The longer the kiss went on, the louder the catcalls sounded.

  Lisa grew flustered, and it was her own damn brother! Hyper aware of Derek directly behind her, she teased, “Easy you two, or you’ll end up pregnant. Oh, wait, too late!”

  Eric stood Marissa back on her feet. The grin he directed toward Lisa brought back memories of endless childhood mischief. “Your turn, smartass.”

  Lisa glanced up at the mistletoe. Her heart lurched. Oh, no. After two steps in the opposite direction, a hand on her arm jerked her to a stop.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Derek challenged.

  Heather and Reese bounced closer.

  The DJ announced, “Lisa Riley and Derek Walsh.”

  Mark and Janelle urged them forward, but Lisa shook her head. Everyone had celebrated entirely way too much if they seriously thought she would kiss Derek right here, right now.

  “You know the rules, Aunt Lisa!”

  “They only apply if I’m under it, Sweetie.” And she was going around, not under.

  Another determined tug on her arm brought her attention back to Derek. “I don’t know about Reese’s rules, but you’re not ruining this because you’re too high and mighty for a little kiss under the mistletoe.”

  He backed toward the arch, dragging her with him—laughing all the way—ha-ha-ha-ha. The lead Monarch in her belly sought escape up her throat. This was her payback for out-toasting him. It was written all over his smug face.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she warned in desperation.

  A spark flashed in his eyes, then flared bright. Oh, crap, wrong damn words! His relentless pull, physical and intangible, quickly put her under the mistletoe. Face to face, body to body.

  She took a deep breath. Fine. In the obvious face of defeat, she’d concede and do it her way. The safe way.

  Lisa leaned in and touched her lips to Derek’s smirk. His heat and masculine scent rose up to engulf her senses. Instant temptation flared to prolong the contact, but she’d caught him off-guard, and she forced herself to press home the advantage. With a swift twist, she linked her arm with his and propelled him through the arch, out from under the offending foliage.

  Derek’s laugh taunted her over the music. “Coward.”

  “Bite me.”

  He swung her around so fast her body slammed into his. His brown gaze bored into hers, a hint of humor mingled with something more serious. “Next time you issue that invitation, I won’t hesitate taking you up on it.”

  The DJ’s announcement of the bride and groom stalled Lisa’s retort. Derek released her so they could both clap and cheer for the newlyweds. Then it was time for the wedding party, parents, and grandparents to dance, and Lisa found herself right back in Derek’s arms.

  He didn’t say a word, just watched her with those unfathomable brown eyes. If she were shorter, she could stare at his chest instead of his face. As it was, the only way to avoid his gaze was to close the distance between them and press her cheek against his.

  But it didn’t matter how delicious he smelled or how his palm cradled hers in warmth. Cheek to cheek with Derek would be situational suicide. Especially when every nerve ending tingled with the desire to move closer and those damn butterflies had become frantic in their quest to be free. For the first time in her life, she felt totally and completely out of her league with Derek Walsh. She didn’t like it one bit.

  “Switch partners,” the DJ commanded.

  Oh, thank God. Lisa stepped back. Derek gave her a cocky grin in the face of her relief. She ignored him, tried to ignore the slide of his fingers against her palm when he released her, and turned toward the closest couple. Eric and Marissa.

  She took a nice deep breath of air. Eric twirled her in a fancy spin before settling one hand at her waist and holding out the other for her to accept. “I hear you’re sticking around town for awhile,” he commented.

  Her traitorous gaze located Derek. She forced her attention back to her brother. “Sure am. I’ve missed you all more than I realized.” How many times would she use that excuse before everyone figured out she was a fraud?

  “Is that what your toast was about?”

  “Mostly, yeah.” She gave a bright smile. “So, now you’re stuck with me again. Although, at the rate you and Marissa are going, I’m guessing you won’t mind having another free babysitter around.”

  “We never say no to free babysitters.”

  “Do you ever just say no?”

  “Hell no,” Eric confirmed with a laugh. The call came over the microphone to switch, and Eric hugged her close. “I’m glad you’re home, sis.”

  She took a turn with Jim Newel, enjoying his pleasant conversation until the next switch paired her with her dad. “How’s my baby girl?”

  Her parents were the only ones who knew anything about her situation, and even they didn’t know the half if it. She couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing them with the full truth. “Very glad I made it home for Christmas this year.”

  “So are we. Almost as glad as knowing you’ll be staying for more than a day.”

  “And you’re sure you and Mom don’t mind a houseguest until I find a job around here?”

  He leaned back to look at her. “Daughters are not houseguests, and you can always come home, honey.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.” She hugged him tight, choked up from the sheen of tears in his eyes. She felt like a big baby, but with her eyes closed and her father’s arms around her, her problems faded into the background.

  “Hey—didn’t you two hear the call to switch?” Mark demanded a minute later. He grinned at Lisa over their dad’s shoulder. “My turn with the brat.”

  “Yeah, that makes me want to dance with you, dufus.”

  “Good Lord, you two just flashed me back fifteen years,” Ben lamented. He slapped Mark on the back on his way past to claim his next partner. “You kids behave now.”

  Lisa smiled up at her big brother. “I can’t believe you’re finally married.”

  “I can’t believe you almost missed it.”

  She cringed. “Yeah…I’m really sorry about that.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Um…we still don’t have enough time for me to tell that story.”

  “Well, I hear you’re sticking around, right?”

  Lisa nodded. News traveled faster than ever.

  “Then Janelle and I will expect you for dinner sometime this week, and you can take the entire evening to tell us at your leisure.”

  “Deal.”

  He spun her around and drew her close again. “Where you staying? We’ve got room at the lodge, if you’d like?”

  “Thanks. I’ll remember that when the walls start closing in at Mom and Dad’s.”

  “There’s no curfew at our place. And lots more privacy…you know, if you want to bring home a guy, or something.”

  Lisa laughed. “Sure. I can trade Dad’s third degree for yours.”

  Mark shrugged with a grin. “You’re my little sister, I gotta look out for you.”

  “I’ll remember that, too.”

  The DJ called for the final partner exchange, and Lisa found herself face to face with Derek’s grandpa, rosy-cheek
ed Butch Walsh. She thought of the story the girls had told earlier. Santa Butch. A ridiculous niggle of apprehension wormed its way through her brain. Did he know about her lies? They were just little white ones, and they wouldn’t really hurt anyone other than herself if found out, but still—did he know?

  Butch smiled up at her from his three-inch disadvantage. “Relax darlin’, I don’t bite.”

  Her gaze found Derek across the floor. He’d promised he’d chomp the next time she snapped at him. She needed to break the “bite me” habit fast, because it was doubtful he’d stop annoying her anytime soon.

  She focused back on Butch’s white Santa beard and wire rimmed glasses. “I’m sorry. It’s just, Reese and Heather told me you assist the ‘real’ Santa.” She laughed self-consciously. God that sounded stupid. Then again, in for a penny… “I was wondering, what side of the List do I fall on?”

  “Young lady…”

  Lisa held her breath. “Yes?”

  “Shouldn’t you already know that answer fer yerself?”

  Her cheeks flamed. “Yes. Of course. And I do. I think. No, I do. I was just…um…well, see, it’s—”

  “Easy.” Butch held up a hand. “I’m jes’ teasin’.”

  “Oh.” Now she really felt like an idiot. And Santa—no, Butch—watched her with a speculative gleam in his eye.

  “You went to school with Derek and Janey, didn’t you?”

  “I graduated with Derek.”

  “That’s right—valedictorian. You two were in lotsa things together.”

  “We were.” She didn’t point out that she’d always come out on top. Derek brought out the competitor in her like no one else ever had. The toast proved that. She hadn’t much felt like challenging anyone over anything the last few years.

  The DJ saved her from any more questions, and Butch kissed her hand as the Grand March officially ended. One last shout out to the bride and groom, and they moved off to the side so other guests could enjoy the music. Before Lisa could make a polite escape, Mark and Janelle, and Derek and his grandmother gathered next to her and Butch.

  “Lisa, dear, I heard you’re moving back to Pulaski.”

  Lisa smiled at Judy Walsh. “I am. Did the DJ announce it while I was in the bathroom or something?”