Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3) Page 4

  A low groan rumbled from his throat, and he brought his other hand up to cup her face. Derek walked her backward, intent on continuing the kiss inside, out of the harsh winter wind chilling his backside.

  The chime of the grandfather clock shattered their moment of passion. Lisa jerked back, putting distance between them without completely pulling free of his touch. While they both caught their breath, Derek gazed down into her wide gray eyes, his confusion mirrored in her expression.

  What the hell did this mean? Them not fighting—her kissing him back like she couldn’t get enough. Hell, he wanted more. Right now.

  When the second peal of the clock faded to silence, he knew it was too late to try to figure out anything right now. He’d be able to think clearly in the light of day. One thing he knew, he definitely needed distance, because all he wanted to do now was find her bedroom and take advantage of the empty house.

  “Merry Christmas, Lisa.”

  He dropped his hands to his side and took a step back, then spun on his heel and went home.

  Chapter Four

  Lisa went through the motions at Eric and Marissa’s Christmas day, but her mind ran overtime, eight hours in the past. Derek Walsh had been right about one thing, she didn’t know how to handle him all grown up.

  She never expected last night to end under the mistletoe, especially after the fiasco of Janelle’s proposed contest. Her pulse sped up just thinking about the thrill of Derek’s hard body aligned with hers; his strong hands cradling her face while he kissed her breathless.

  The doorbell jolted Lisa out of the seductive daydream. Not that it mattered. She’d relived those moments most of the night and countless times throughout the morning. Not only could she pick up exactly where she left off to the second, but she could still feel the hot glide of his tongue against hers. Heat spread through her body. She leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes.

  “Lisa—it’s for you,” Marissa called.

  She rose to her feet with a curious frown. Marissa gave her a knowing grin on her way past, and Lisa felt the eagle eyes of her family and Marissa’s sister, Nikki, follow her until she rounded the corner leading to the front entrance.

  Derek stood just inside the door, a large square present in his hands. Those monarch butterflies that should’ve migrated south back in September woke up in her stomach. Boy, he looked different today in a brown leather jacket, rust-colored shirt, faded jeans, and tan work boots. With his blond hair casually combed to the side and slightly windblown, and a single day’s growth of light whiskers on his jaw, the rugged look hit her senses as effectively as the formal tux. Maybe even more so.

  Their gazes collided when he finished his own appraisal of her red cashmere sweater, low-rise jeans, and bare feet. One corner of Derek’s mouth quirked up. The warmth in his brown eyes brought a flush to her face and propelled her heart rate into the danger zone.

  “Hi,” he said.

  Good lord, one word should not sound so sexy.

  “Hi.” When images of their kiss rolled by in vivid Technicolor, she switched her focus to the package in his hands. “You got me a present?”

  He grinned. “Um…not really. I found this when I unloaded the wedding gifts at the lodge. Since Heather’s name is on the tag, I figured you’d need it today.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She took it from him with an embarrassed smile. Now she recognized the wrapping paper—frolicking cartoon figures of Winnie the Pooh and Tigger, too. “The girls opened their presents from Santa earlier, and we’re going to exchange gifts in a little while. I didn’t realize this one was missing. Thanks.”

  “Sure.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets.

  “How has your Christmas been?”

  “Good. Yours?”

  “Good.” Okay, awkward conversation can stop any time now.

  He half turned and jerked his thumb toward the door. “I see you got your car.”

  “Eric pulled me out this morning.”

  “You need new tires.”

  “I know.” She just couldn’t afford them.

  “They’re calling for more snow this week,” he warned.

  “Six to nine inches on Tuesday.”

  Her defensive tone made him shake his head. She spun the package in her hands and did her best to avoid staring at his mouth. He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, then. I’ll let you get back to your family—”

  “You should come in for a while,” Lisa offered quickly, not wanting him to leave just yet. She motioned toward the living room where loud, cheerful voices competed with each other. Derek shifted and hunched his shoulders with a look of uncertainty.

  “Mark and Janelle are here,” she added. “They’re your family, too.”

  “I’ll see them at dinner later. I don’t want to intrude.”

  Then it hit her. He wasn’t being thoughtful; he just didn’t want to stay. She cursed her own stupidity for hoping he’d want to spend time with her, and turned the gift some more. “Okay. Well, thanks again. And Merry Christmas.”

  Derek reached behind him for the door as Eric walked past on his way to the kitchen. “You two going stand in the doorway all day?”

  “I was just—”

  Janelle brushed past Eric. “Hey, Cuz—Merry Christmas!”

  Lisa stepped back. Then she quickly shifted when she remembered Eric took tradition to extreme and every doorway sported green leaves of entrapment. While her body said one thing, she didn’t want a repeat performance of last night in front of her entire family. In the light of day, it was pretty evident Derek didn’t either.

  Janelle had Derek’s coat off and pushed him further into the house before he could get a word in edgewise. He met Lisa’s gaze with a smile of resignation. “I guess I’m staying for a while.”

  Traitorous pleasure negated the rational of her mind over Derek’s reluctant demeanor. She shrugged. “Since you delivered the present, it is only fitting you’re here to watch Heather open it.”

  Reese and Heather pounced on Derek the moment he appeared in the living room. While they gave him a rundown of all their new toys, Lisa walked over to place the package with the rest of the presents under the tree. When she straightened, a swift scan of the room revealed the only open space to sit was on the couch, where the girls now held Derek hostage.

  She chose a spot on the floor near the eight-foot Douglas fir, next to the recliner her dad and baby Evan cuddled in. No sense giving anyone the wrong idea as to why Derek was here. Clearly he didn’t want her reading more into it than what it was—a generous gesture that had less to do with her and more to do with the sweet angels on his right. Heather and Reese ate up his undivided attention, and Lisa couldn’t help but think he’d make a great father some day.

  Derek’s quick glance away from the girls caught her staring. Evan, bless his dear little heart, chose that moment to reach over the arm of the recliner and grab a fistful of Lisa’s hair. The five-month old gave a squeal of glee and yanked hard enough to bring her to her knees with a gasp.

  Her mother jumped up to help untangle his slimy fingers, and Lisa took the opportunity to get her thumping heart back under control.

  “Janelle, what are Butch and Judy doing today?” Sue Riley asked.

  Janelle held out a set of plastic keys to baby Ethan, who sat on Mark’s lap. “Grandma said they’re taking it easy this morning. When we all get there around two, we’ll help her with dinner.”

  “I already baked my pies there this morning, so don’t include me in that we,” Derek advised. “The football game starts at three.”

  Voices fell silent and the background Christmas music swelled. Eric coughed. Reese giggled behind her hand.

  Lisa fought a smile and asked Derek what most of her family was probably thinking. “You bake pies?”

  He glanced around and then scowled at her with a shadow of a grin. “You think that’s funny?”

  Heather and Reese answered in stereo for her. “Yes.” />
  “Best apple pies in Northeast Wisconsin, girls. Don’t knock ‘em till you’ve tried ‘em.” He gave them each a stern frown, ending with Lisa.

  “They’re pretty damn—darn—good,” Mark confessed. “I had a slice at Thanksgiving.”

  Marissa refilled her coffee cup from a carafe on a side table. “I made more than enough food, maybe Butch and Judy would like to join us? They could completely relax and enjoy the day—especially after the wedding.”

  “That would be so nice,” Sue said. “I barely got to talk to Judy yesterday.”

  Janelle glanced toward Derek. Derek looked at Eric. “You guys watching the game?”

  Eric, Mark, and Lisa replied simultaneously. “Of course!”

  “Christmas isn’t Christmas without mistletoe and football,” Ben Riley declared.

  Sue sighed over the laughter. “See what I’ve put up with all these years?”

  Mark suddenly made a comical face of distaste and informed everyone Ethan needed a diaper change. Janelle rose, but she directed her commiserating grin to her mother-in-law, not her new husband. “Seeing as it appears Lisa is a lost cause, I’ll go call reinforcements.”

  Lisa hesitated, tried to talk herself out of it, but the temptation proved too great to resist. Rising to her knees once more, she called to Janelle, “Ask your grandma to bring Derek’s pies.”

  Derek braced his elbows on his knees. “Want to try one?”

  She poured a tablespoon of sugar into her smile and stirred. “You bet I do.”

  Eric snorted as he relieved Mark of the stinky baby. “Only because she made two apple pies this morning.”

  Derek’s gaze narrowed before he leaned back with a resigned groan. “Great. Here we go again.”

  ****

  For the first time in their history, Derek won. Three times. In one afternoon. Lisa scrubbed extra hard at the baked-on marshmallow ringing the sweet potato dish that Judy Walsh insisted on bringing over.

  Wasn’t that kiss under the mistletoe supposed to save her Christmas? If you asked her, the man was nothing but a jinx!

  She glanced through her lashes in time to see Derek lift Evan above his head and blow raspberries on the infant’s neck. Evan chortled and squirmed until his tiny little fingers found Derek’s hair and fisted tight. Derek’s deep laugh wound around her heart and squeezed. Her viscous scrubbing gentled.

  Okay, fine, he’s more than a jinx.

  The kids loved him. After his initial attitude at the wedding, he’d demonstrated thoughtful tendencies more than once. And it certainly didn’t hurt that looking at him was a treat in itself. His pushed up shirtsleeves and exposed, muscled forearms became a distraction until Lisa gave herself a mental shake.

  Why did any of it even matter to her? She shouldn’t care if he won and she lost. It was all so stupid. First was the accidental afternoon diapering race. He had Ethan, she had Evan—although who gave a rip if he could powder a baby’s butt faster than her, right? Evan’s little package had psyched her out—especially when he started peeing a fountain.

  Next, the Indianapolis Colts lost to the Green Bay Packers by one measly point, resulting in her forking over ten bucks she shouldn’t have bet in the first place. Minus the money, it wasn’t that big a deal, either, because she liked her home state team second best after the Colts. Plus, she’d had a blast getting Reese and Heather to cheer with her instead of Eric.

  No, honestly, she hadn’t really cared about the first two—until they were added to the third.

  How the heck did Derek Walsh make better apple pies than she did?

  Well, she knew, but she didn’t believe it. Cream cheese and caramel. Sounded gross, but baked with the apples and topped with sweet, crunchy crumbles, the combination made her taste buds dance in ecstasy.

  Like his kiss last night.

  Dishes clattered onto the countertop to her right. Lisa jumped when Derek leaned a hip against the counter and flashed a self-satisfied smile. “That’s the last of the dessert plates. My grandpa and your dad both had seconds of my pie.”

  Rub it in, Jinx. Her mom and Judy had taken pity and eaten her pie, but everyone else had no problem vocalizing their preference for Derek’s efforts. She attacked the sweet potato dish again. “Don’t just stand there, grab a towel.”

  He followed her order with a chuckle. “Losing makes you crabby.”

  “As if you’d know.”

  “You never acted like this when you won back in high school.”

  “All I did was ask you to dry the dishes.”

  He shook his head with another laugh. “Okay.”

  She scrubbed; he dried. She gave it about five minutes before admitting toward the sink, “Your pie was awesome.”

  “Thank you.” After another moment of silence, he added, “It’s my mom’s recipe.”

  The impact of that soft-voiced fact stilled her busy hands. The sad story of Derek and Janelle’s parents’ plane crash was common knowledge in Pulaski. She remembered feeling sorry for the sullen, gangly newcomer and his quiet cousin all those years ago.

  Until they’d met face to face. He’d rejected her sympathy with a flat out challenge that’d set the tone for the remainder of their teen years.

  She turned to him now, but he kept his gaze averted, intent on swiping the flour sack towel over the pan in his hands. Not sure what to say after he’d revealed he baked pies to remember his dead mother, she simply washed the rest of the dishes and enjoyed his quiet company amidst the chaos of the rest of the house.

  It was the best Christmas day she’d had in years.

  ****

  She was late, darn it. Lisa smoothed the sides of her slim skirt, her boot heels clicking along the school hallway. It wasn’t her first interview this week, but she’d coveted this job since seeing the ad in the paper this morning. Though only a temporary assistant coaching position for the girls JV basketball team, she’d be doing something she loved, and she was confidant she had an ‘in’ with the man in charge.

  A quick stop at her dad’s law office to fax her resume netted her a call on her cell right after her second interview in the Green Bay area. When they asked if she could make it by four, Lisa snapped up the appointment and suffered through three additional inquisitions the rest of the afternoon. A City Hall position really piqued her interest, but she wanted the coaching job more.

  Her gaze swept the high school entrance with interest. With the student body out on Christmas break, she could easily see the changes that’d occurred since her last visit. There hadn’t been many—visits or changes. Same inspirational mural, same commons area, same plain offices to the left—but the faces inside were new. To her at least. Nostalgia swept over her. Mrs. Hutchinson’s kind smile would’ve been so wonderful right now.

  Two of the three women looked up when she entered, but the middle-aged brunette behind the front desk was the only one who paused in her work. “May I help you?”

  “I have an interview with the athletic director.” A glance at the clock on the far wall showed the time at four minutes after four. Not good, but not awful. With their history, Coach Crandall wouldn’t hold it against her.

  “Lisa Walsh?”

  She nodded. The woman showed no sign of recognizing her name. How quickly the glory fades, Lisa thought with self-deprecation.

  “He’s expecting you. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll take you to his office in a moment.”

  “Actually, I know where I’m going…if that’s okay?”

  “Of course. I’ll let him know you’re on the way.”

  Lisa removed her coat on her trip down the hall, anticipating her old coach’s smiling welcome. Past successes filtered through her memories, and despite the reality check in the office, they blocked out the last three bleak years.

  It felt good to be back on her old stomping grounds. She smiled with hope and anticipation that life would finally swing in her favor again.

  Chapter Five

  Derek didn’t bother to look up
until his next interview candidate entered the office and came to an abrupt halt. “Hello, Lisa.” He tossed some paperwork onto his unusually clean desk and sat forward with a pointed glance at his watch. “You’re late. Again.”

  Her panicked gaze swept around the room, as if she’d find someone else hiding behind one of the file cabinets. “Where’s Coach Crandall?”

  “Last I heard, Arizona. He retired last year.”

  “So, you are…?” Her gaze locked on his desk nameplate.

  “The new athletic director.”

  “I didn’t even know you worked here at the school.”

  “Never bothered to ask, did you?” He cringed at his defensive tone, unaware her disinterest bothered him until just now. Thankfully she didn’t seem to notice. She appeared nervous—and with good reason. Once again, he held the cards.

  “What do you coach?” she asked.

  “Boys basketball and track.”

  Derek picked up the red file on the right side of his desk and placed it front and center. He removed the resume he’d practically memorized over the last few hours and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Shall we get started?”

  “Um…sure.”

  She took a seat and crossed her legs, coat and hands folded in her lap. Leather boots clung to the long curve of her calves, ending just below her knees. Black tights and a skirt picked up where the boots left off. A black sweater and filmy charcoal gray scarf completed the outfit. With her midnight hair and those gray eyes, she looked as good in black as in burgundy satin. And red cashmere. Hell, she’d probably look good in a white flour sack—

  Or nothing at all.

  Derek’s back stiffened. He gave an abrupt, internal admonishment to his libido. Not only did he need to be professional but he had some serious questions for her to answer. First the interview.

  She breezed through the formal, job-related questions without hesitation, her answers full of confidence. That didn’t surprise him. Having been a star athlete, she knew sports, basketball in particular.