Beneath the Mistletoe: Make-Believe Mistletoe / Christmas Bonus, Strings Attached

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She cast a wary glance at the curtainless window that rattled every time the wind blew. “Maybe you could lower those blinds for me?”

He moved to do so. “You’re sure you’ll be okay in here?”

She gave him a smile that was just a shade too bright. “I’ll be fine,” she said again.

He knew she was worried about a power outage. She’d made it clear enough that she didn’t like the dark. Opening a desk drawer, he took out a small flashlight and handed it to her. She accepted it gratefully.

“You certainly seem prepared for company,” she said, motioning toward the pillow and extra blankets. “Does your family visit often?”

“No. I inherited most of my household supplies from my great-uncle. He built this house.”

“The great-uncle who lived alone until he died?”

He had almost forgotten that he’d mentioned his uncle Joe to Lucy. “Yeah. He died four years ago, leaving me his house and workshop.”

Lucy was already spreading sheets on the couch, her backside swaying with the movements. Banner stuck his hands in his pockets and half turned away, keeping his gaze focused intently on anything but her. He cleared his throat. “Let me know if you need anything during the night.”

“Banner?” She spoke quickly as he stepped through the doorway, his hand on the doorknob. “Would you leave the door open, please?”

He did so, saying over his shoulder, “Keep the flashlight close at hand in case you need it.”

“I certainly will,” he heard her mutter.

She really was nervous. He wondered if her fear of the dark had a basis in experience or if it was a quirk. Maybe she was afraid because circumstances had stranded her here in an unfamiliar place.

All things considered, he was a bit nervous himself. It seemed odd, though, that of all the strangers camped out in his home, Lucy was the only one who reduced him to the almost inarticulate self-consciousness that had plagued him during his awkward youth.

As Banner had promised, the couch was more comfortable than it looked. Lucy nestled into the covers, trying not to think about the storm outside. At least she couldn’t see the creepy, ice-covered branches swaying now that Banner had closed the blinds.

He had left a dim light on in the kitchen, which provided enough illumination to make her reasonably comfortable. She wondered if he always kept that particular bulb burning at night, or if he’d left it on because she had told him the dark made her nervous.

To reassure herself, she slid a hand under her pillow, touching the flashlight he had provided her with. He really was trying to be a good host in his own awkward way, she thought with a slight smile.

She wondered why a young, good-looking guy like him lived alone out here in the back of nowhere. She wondered why he wasn’t joining his family for Christmas. She wondered if he had a girlfriend. And as she drifted into the first stages of sleep, she wondered if he wanted one….

The sound of someone breathing deeply, heavily in her ear brought her eyes open in a hurry. She nearly had a heart attack when she saw a big, dark form looming over her, so close to her face she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said a moment later, not sure if she was relieved.

Hulk laid his shaggy head on her arm. Moving clumsily, she patted him with her other hand. “I know I’m on your couch, but I’m not moving,” she said. “You’ll have to take the floor if you’re sleeping in here.”

He sighed deeply, then removed his head from her arm, curled up on the braided rug in front of the couch and was soon snoring.

That dog was downright spooky, Lucy thought, shaking her head as she settled into her pillow again. But then, Hulk’s owner wasn’t exactly ordinary.

The power went out just as she closed her eyes again. There wasn’t a warning flicker this time, not even a hard gust of wind. Everything just quietly went dark. Pitch-dark.

Lucy sat up with a gasp. She couldn’t see the doorway into the kitchen now. Without the background noises of the heater and other electric appliances, the house was completely silent. She could hear the wind and ice outside, and occasional sharp cracks that she knew were more tree branches snapping.

She hadn’t heard the branch that had taken down the power lines.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she strained to see through the inky blackness. She was growing disoriented, unsure now exactly where the door was. The sounds from outside seemed to grow louder and eerier. Creaks and pops and groans—strange noises in a strange place.

“Hulk?” she whispered, reaching unsteadily for the dog. Even his presence would be comforting now. But he wasn’t there. The shaggy mutt had slipped out as stealthily as he had entered earlier, leaving Lucy alone in the dark.

Drawing a deep breath to calm herself, she remembered the flashlight under her pillow. It must have been panic that had driven it from her mind before, she thought sheepishly, making a dive for it. She felt better immediately when her fingers closed around the metal cylinder. And then she cursed beneath her breath when she fumbled to find the button that would turn it on. She should have figured out how to work it before the lights went out, she chided herself.

A thin beam of light swept over her, settling on her hands. “Twist the top to turn it on,” Banner said from across the room.

Following his instructions, she sighed in relief when her efforts turned the flashlight on. The light hit her full in the eyes, making her squint, but that was okay. As long as she had light, she thought, aiming the flashlight toward Banner’s legs. She didn’t want to blind him, too.

She saw now that his dog stood close beside him. Surely that beast wasn’t afraid of the dark.

“Are you okay?” Banner asked quietly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She wished her voice hadn’t quavered.

He moved a few steps closer to the couch. “You don’t sound fine.”

“No, really, I’m okay. We knew the power would go out.”

“It’s going to get cold in here. You’ll probably want to bring your pillow and blankets and sleep in front of the fire.”

That sounded like a good plan. Fire gave off both heat and light. She threw off her blankets and swung her legs over the edge of the couch. She still wore her sweater, jeans and socks, so she didn’t have to worry about modesty. Awkwardly gathering her pillow and blankets while still balancing the flashlight, she took a step toward Banner—and promptly tripped over one of the blankets.

Banner caught her before she could hit the floor. His arms closed around her, pulling her against him, and she became aware of exactly how strong that slim body of his really was. Woodworking seemed to be very good for building muscles, she thought a bit dreamily.

“You okay?” His deep voice was very close to her ear as he bent his head over her.

If her hands hadn’t been so full, she might have been tempted to let them roam up his chest—to satisfy her curiosity about the definition of the muscles beneath his gray sweatshirt.

Except for his small flashlight, Banner’s hands were free—not moving, just holding her. His face was close to her hair, and he didn’t immediately move away. It looked as though it was going to be up to her to move first—before she did something stupid. Like dropping those blankets and satisfying her overactive curiosity.

She took a step backward. Banner’s hands fell immediately to his side, and he, too, moved to put even more space between them. The dog shuffled out of his way, bumping against Lucy’s hip. She certainly didn’t want to risk stumbling again, which could very likely lead to her ending up back in Banner’s arms.

With a very faint, slightly wistful sigh, she followed carefully as he led her through the kitchen and toward the living room.

Bobby Ray knelt in front of the fire, slowly adding wood. The flickering firelight danced across his broad face, gleaming in his thick hair and beard. “You doing okay, Lucy?” he asked, looking up from his task.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Bobby Ray pushed himself to his feet and adjusted the fireplace screen. “I doubt the power will be back on anytime tonight. It’s going to get cold.”

Lucy glanced toward the two bedrooms. “What about the others?”

“The bedrooms are more heavily insulated than the office, which was an add-on,” Banner said. “There’s a gas fire burning in the master bedroom, so it should stay fairly comfortable in there. Joan and the kids are sharing a bed and a pile of blankets, so I think they’ll be okay.”

Had Banner made the effort to come after Lucy because he thought she would get too cold—or because he knew she didn’t like the dark? Either way, it had been a nice thing for him to do.