12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (37 page)

M
ike couldn't believe it
. Brian was actually doing homework, and peace still reigned. He had no idea how Adam had pulled it off, but the two kids sat at the kitchen table like any pair of average schoolkids anywhere in the world. No drama. No strained nerves. Just focused work.

According to the clock on the wall, Annette would be here any minute to pick up Adam. Every day for over a week she'd called to report how the school day had gone, and then she'd listen patiently for Mike to replay Brian's perception of the day. Most times Brian had little to say, but that was okay. Everything had become routine for him. Routine was good.

Bit by bit they'd continued chatting past talk of the boys. And tonight he was looking forward to a little face-to-face conversation. At least he hoped she and Adam wouldn't have to rush off.

In the last ten minutes, he'd changed his shirt—twice—stopped to look in the mirror to ensure he hadn't sprouted a third eye or a stray cowlick—three times—and decided there was no need to straighten the living room—again. If the doorbell hadn't finally rung, who knows what ridiculous distraction he'd have fallen for.

"Hi." He opened the door wide. "The boys are still working. Are you in a hurry?"

She crossed the threshold. "Not at all."

"Good." He waved her in. "Would you like something cold to drink, or I could put the kettle on for tea?"

"Tea would be great."

"Earl Grey?"

"Yes." Her smile grew a little wider. "Thanks."

"Have a seat on the sofa and I'll be right back."

Bobbing her head, Annette sat on the oversize sofa and resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her slacks. Maybe she should have worn the khaki skirt. She'd only changed three—or was it four?—maybe five times before settling on white slacks and a simple lavender cotton top. As nervous as she was, anyone would think she was a teenager crushing on the captain of the football team.

Though how many high school crushes had their teenage children for chaperones? That thought had her chuckling. She was being ridiculous, and she knew it, but she'd forgotten the giddy excitement that came from liking a guy and getting to know him better and even daydreaming about the possibilities. Hell, when she'd met Tom, she actually had been a teenager. She never expected to feel this way again. Ever. And she most definitely liked it.

"Here you go." Mike set the mug in front of her.

He remembered she didn't use milk or sugar, which made her want to smile again. "Thanks."

"Hope you don't mind I nuked the water instead of using a kettle."

"Not a problem. If my life depended on it, I'm not sure I could find a kettle in my kitchen."

Mike settled in a chair in front of her. A mug in one hand, his other hand came to rest atop the ankle he had just crossed over his thigh. The casual pose looked to be the perfect magazine cover shot. She wished she had a camera and the liberty to capture the moment. Searching for words, Annette stalled, blowing on the warm liquid. "Did Emily tell you the school is making the junior high unified basketball teams a priority?"

"The boys have been talking about it. Adam is so patient. Brian gets one thought in his mind and tends to repeat it frequently throughout the conversation, and Adam simply answers and keeps going."

"Well, normally any program like this would take more than a couple of weeks to organize and implement, but so many people have come together to make this happen fast. The first practice is already scheduled for next week. Nick and Billy from the Big Island Dive shop have offered to supply the uniforms. Doug, one of the dive instructors and Emily's fiancé, has volunteered to coach our team with Mr. Gatlin, the science teacher."

"That's very nice of the dive shop."

"They're very nice people."

"Sounds like it. But from the few conversations I've had with Gatlin, I wouldn't have expected him to be a sports fan."

"He's not." Annette bit back a smile. "That's why Doug is the assistant coach. The district requires a certified teacher be the head coach. Mr. Gatlin doesn't know a blessed thing about basketball, but he does believe in the program, so he stepped up. Next year, when the regular PE teacher is back from maternity leave, she'll take over coaching."

"I gather she's the sports fan."

"More than that, she went through college on a basketball scholarship. She's so excited she's threatening to get up from bed rest to come watch the games." Mike's brow crinkled into a concerned frown, so Annette answered the unasked question. "She's having twins, and the doctor wants her off her feet for the last six weeks of her pregnancy."

His forehead smoothed, and he shook his head. "I can't imagine raising twins. Karen and I were challenged with one. When Brian was a baby, we'd worry because he wouldn't nap. Then we'd worry if he napped too long." He chuckled. "Looking back, I realize we were a bit hyperconcerned."

"Not unusual for first-time parents. I spent a lot of hours watching Bethany sleep, mostly to make sure she was still breathing."

The two chuckled more loudly.

Mike scrubbed the smile from his face. "Considering how frightening it is being responsible for a tiny person, it's amazing that anyone has more than one."

"Oh, but they're so precious."

"They are," he agreed. "Did you ever consider having more?"

"Actually I did. But a friend of ours told me the problem with three children is you're always one arm or one parent short. The advice made sense, so I settled for two. Though now, on days when I have too much time on my hands, I think it would be nice to have a little one around the house. Then I remember how much work raising toddlers is and think
maybe not
."

Mike took a sip of his tea. "You know what they say.
Small children, small problems. Big children, big problems
."

His gaze fell to the mug cradled in his hands, and, for the first time, Annette considered the weight Mike had to carry, worrying about his son's future, his old age after she and Mike weren't here to watch out for him anymore. …
She and Mike.
Where had that come from? She didn't have any responsibility for Brian. At least none that would continue much longer. Things had settled at school. Eddie and his crew were laying low. That might change, once she no longer joined the kids for lunch, but maybe things would be okay. Especially with Eddie participating in the new basketball program. Hopefully with all their efforts Eddie and others would come to understand bullying of any kind was not appropriate or acceptable behavior.

Adam came from the kitchen. "Hi, Mom. We're about finished. I'm going to the bathroom, and then we can go."

She smiled and nodded and wished for a little more time with Mike. The conversation wasn't earth shattering. They weren't about to solve the problems of world peace or poverty, but it was
nice
just knowing Mike was here. Someone to talk to, if she wanted to, or to just
be
.

Sliding his ankle off his other leg, Mike set both feet on the ground and leaned forward in his chair. "I was thinking. Would you like to join me for dinner? Maybe catch a movie?"

Annette blinked. Was he talking about just the two of them? A date? A real date? Or was her own wishful thinking misinterpreting again? Did he mean her and the boys?

"Just the two of us," he added, as though he were reading her thoughts.

She almost laughed. The notion that anyone could read her mind should have scared the hell out of her, but, instead, the idea made her a little warm all over. "I'd love to."

N
ever had
a week seemed so long. Mike had no idea how the sitter was going to work out at nighttime, but he hoped that Brian's familiarity with their neighbor Liz would make her presence in their house less stressful for him. Just in case, they'd done a short test run of sorts. A few days ago Liz came over and stayed with Brian while Mike ran to the grocery store for an hour or so. When he'd returned, all was well. The shift to a new person keeping Brian company had been easy. Mike didn't understand if this had anything to do with the puberty theory, but, even though Brian still needed routine—a precise routine—his reactions when things veered off course seemed less dramatic. Mike wasn't fooling himself into thinking that Brian's fixated tendencies would simply go away, but, for whatever reasons, change was at least a little easier for his son to handle. And
that
was a good thing.

The address Annette had given him was in a more secluded neighborhood. And more affluent. Not that he was surprised by that. It hadn't taken him long to realize Annette was a stay-at-home mom, with a full-time household manager-slash-nanny, depending on what kind of help was needed. Any widow with that kind of resources wasn't likely to be living in a trailer park, and yet he was still a little surprised, and even awed, at the massive modern home at the top of the long drive. He was no slouch in the income department. Karen had been a stay-at-home mom, and they had still managed to live a very comfortable life and to build a nice nest egg for Brian's future. But there was no way he and Annette would have ever traveled in the same circles anyplace but here in Paradise.

Swallowing hard, he shook his mind clear. Tonight wasn't a social-economic forum; it was dinner. With a nice lady. A very nice lady. One he wanted to get to know better. Much better.

Every time he considered how far under his skin Annette Deluca had settled in, it surprised the crap out of him. Lots of people had said time would heal all wounds. He'd fall in love again. Live a full and happy life. And with each passing year he'd been more convinced every one of those Pollyannas were full of shit. Until now.
Until now
. Where Annette’s house had failed to intimidate him, the emotions surging inside him—at the realization that he was fully capable of falling in love with Annette Deluca—were almost enough to send him running home to Florida. To the familiar, the cold, and the empty
. Almost.
Instead he prayed he'd made the right choices for tonight. He desperately did not want their first date to be their last.

Parking the car in front of the massive entryway, Mike sucked in a deep breath, grabbed the small bouquet of fresh blooms, and hoped, once again, that he didn't look too lame bringing flowers. The wide-eyed look of surprise, followed by a sprawling grin on Annette's face as she opened the door and spotted the floral bouquet, told him he'd hit the mark. So far, so good.

"Oh, Mike. You shouldn't have." She whisked the flowers into her hands. "If you'll give me a couple of minutes, I'll get these in water."

He followed her into the house and marveled at the expansive layout. Then he froze at the view. Holy cow. From her perch on a hill, spectacular was too boring a word for the sight before him.
Wow.

Having set the vase of fresh flowers on the coffee table, she sidled up beside him. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Impressive."

"It's why we bought the place. It was way more house than either of us had wanted, but we couldn't resist basking in that view every day."

"I can certainly understand why." Shaking away his nerves for the umpteenth time tonight, he turned to her. "Shall we go?"

"Absolutely."

He waited for her to close and lock the front door. "Hope you're hungry."

"Starved."

Holding open the car door for her, Mike waited as she eased into the passenger seat. The leg of her capris shifted higher, and he took an extra second to admire the curve of her leg sliding in place. For the first time he noticed a slim scar snaking up the side of her calf, reminding him of the physical hell she'd been through. Which only made him want this incredible woman to be a big part of his life, even more than he had five minutes ago.

I
t was
all Annette could do not to fidget during the drive to the restaurant. By the time they'd reached the end of town, all her anxiousness about this evening had smoothed away. Talking with Mike was fun and easy. She shouldn't have let herself get all worked up. So what if she hadn't been on a date in decades?

She'd spent most of the day wondering what he had in mind. Especially after he'd called and told her to dress comfortably. Not that there was much call for dressing up in Kona, but his being thoughtful enough to give her a heads-up said so much about the kind of man Mike Becker was. And she was so excited to get to know him better.

"Here we are." Mike pulled into the tiny parking lot of a white frame house tucked off the main road behind a wide band of trees and shrubs covered in twinkling multicolored holiday lights.

The tiny restaurant was so well hidden from view that Annette had never noticed it was here. "This looks adorable."

"My neighbor recommended its home cooking."

"Really?"

"You mentioned how much you enjoyed Maile Everrett's culinary skills, so I thought, well, … if you don't like it, we can always go somewhere else." He climbed out of the car and circled quickly around to open her door.

"No. I think this is going to be perfect."

He extended his hand to help her out but managed to close her door and turn toward the weathered white building without letting go. Halfway to the restaurant door, his step slowed, and he glanced down at their joined hands, then up to her face. He seemed as surprised to notice he was still holding on as she'd been to have him not release his grip as soon as she'd exited the car. He lifted their hands slightly. "Is this okay?"

The gentle, innocent question shot her with a rush of adrenaline that nearly melted her heart. All she could do was nod.

His questioning gaze shifted to a bright smile, as his fingers threaded with hers. She felt lighter than she'd felt in ages. And liked it.

Mike did all the right things for a first date. Opened doors and pulled out chairs. When she rose to go to the ladies’ room, he stood as well. When she came back, he stood again. His mama had definitely raised him right.

"This is absolutely fabulous." The mussels in white wine sauce had been superb, and now the coconut-crusted tilapia melted in her mouth. "Don't say anything to Maile, but I think this may be better than hers."

"My lips are sealed." He grinned.

For dessert they shared a fantastic pumpkin custard. Somehow middip the spoons momentarily clashed, then tangled. The dueling spoons came within seconds of sending dark custard flying across the room. Only unsteady hands from fits of laughter spared the neighboring diners the surprise of being doused in dessert.

Had Mike suggested they spend the entire evening chatting at the small table, she would have gladly agreed. As much as she'd hated to leave the tiny oasis from the ordinary world, once settled in the car, anticipation for the rest of the night rushed through her veins. "Where to now?"

"That's a bit of a surprise." Mike shifted gears and pulled out of the parking lot. "And like dinner, if it's not to your liking, we can—"

"Go somewhere else," she finished for him. "I'm sure whatever you have planned is going to be great."

"We'll see." He flashed a sparkling smile, and Annette resisted the urge to stretch out her arm and snatch his hand in hers.

Not far down the main road, Mike turned inland a few blocks and pulled into the parking lot for the Funtime Bowling Lanes. After the sweet dinner, she wasn't quite sure what to make of this.

Mike lifted the console between them and pulled out a fresh pack of women's tennis socks and grinned, his smile less sure than a few minutes before. "You game?"

The little-boy look in his eyes had her ready and willing to do just about anything he asked. "Absolutely. Just don't hold it against me that I haven't held a bowling ball since I was twelve."

"Good. Then I won't look so bad when you realize I haven't bowled since I was in high school."

Once again he took her hand and didn't let go until they received their shoes at the counter. The majority of the bowlers occupied the lanes to the left of the establishment. Their assigned lane had them isolated to the far right. Which would explain the muffled conversation between Mike and the clerk, while Annette tested the fit of her rented shoes.

"Boy, things sure have changed since I was twelve." No more paper score sheets. As a matter of fact there was no need for scorekeeping of any kind. A large screen above kept track of pins for anyone and everyone to see. "I guess this makes it harder to cheat."

"I wouldn't have done that anyhow." Mike tied his shoelaces.

Annette pushed to her feet. "I was referring to me."

Mike chimed in laughing, and together they sifted through the various colored balls. Of course he chose one of the heavier black balls; she opted for an eight-pound purple. When she caught him looking oddly at her choice, she shrugged a shoulder. "It's my favorite color."

The way he nodded and walked away, she got the feeling that, along with her preferred choice of tea and love for Maile's cooking, her favorite color had just been filed away for future use. Her heart gave an extra kick, and her pulse took off at a fast clip. What was this man doing to her?