Chapter Ten
Amber let her eyes drift closed, wanting to focus the rest of her senses on this moment, needing to savor the taste and texture and pressure of Michael’s mouth on hers. He cradled her face in her hands, sending a tingle of pleasure through her, a shivery little show of proof that this could be so right…
Then why did something feel all wrong?
Her first clue came with Michael’s sigh.
She opened her eyes to find his gaze meeting hers. His eyes were dark and shadowed. Now she wished she hadn’t turned off the table lamps. She wished he would look toward the fire so she could read his expression.
His fingertips skimmed her cheeks, his touch oh so gentle. Another clue. He was treating her like something easily broken. Without saying a word, he was letting her go.
Well, she wouldn’t break. Those days were over. And she wouldn’t go quietly. “What is it?”
He sighed. “Pretending in front of your family is fine with me. But alone with you, I can’t pretend. I can’t lie. I want you.”
Her breath caught in her throat, leaving her struggling to speak, let alone breathe. “Michael,” she managed to whisper, “you have to know I want you, too.”
Backing up a step, he shoved his hands into his back pockets, as if to keep from touching her. “The difference is, I don’t want to want you.”
His words, his actions, his body language, all said he was fighting as hard as she was. The thought brought on another shiver of pleasure and allowed her a glimmer of hope. Struggle meant he was coming a step closer to her, maybe rethinking his ideas and even changing his mind about the holidays…and more.
He ran his hand through his hair and sighed again. But he didn’t break eye contact. Another glimmer of hope. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“What makes you think you will?”
“Every conversation we’ve had about family.”
“I need more of an explanation than that. As you said to me once before, you owe me.”
He winced. “All right. One example. Tonight, when the kids were all going at each other at the supper table. Everyone ended up laughing. You wouldn’t see that in my family. The teasing would turn ugly. Somebody would knock a glass or three onto the floor. Somebody else would throw a few punches.”
“You’re a family of boys. You play rougher.”
“No. We’re a family of mutts, from two different moms and four different dads.”
“That doesn’t mean you can never have a family of your own.”
“And that’s where I’ll hurt you,” he said quietly. “You believe in family. I don’t.”
She’d been wrong. She would break. But not in front of Michael. She took a steadying breath and let it out slowly. “What now? Are you firing me?”
“Of course not.” He sounded shocked.
“Then we’ll keep doing what we’ve been doing, until we get through the week. Pretending in front of my family and everyone else. Helping out with the auction. Running for King and Queen.” She could feel her heart crumbling to pieces as she spoke.
“You want to be Queen of the Ball, don’t you?”
“I want you to get that contract.”
“I can’t ask you to help me with that.”
“You’re not asking. I volunteered. Besides, it’s for the greater good of Snowflake Valley, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
“But this can’t happen again. No more kisses. At least, not when we’re alone.”
“You’re right.”
For the first time in her life, she wanted to be wrong. “We’d better say good night. We have an early start in the morning and a long day ahead.” For a moment, she hesitated, her determination weakening. Before she could make the mistake of stepping forward, of reaching for him, he turned away and went to take care of the fire.
Exhaling half in relief, half in disappointment, she crossed to the Christmas tree and turned off the lights.
After Michael said good night, she stood in the shadowy corner of the living room, watching until he had gone up the stairs and disappeared from her sight. She wanted to call after him, to run after him, to tell him this agreement wasn’t going to work. It wasn’t enough.
Instead, she went to cuddle her daughter. Penny squirmed slightly in her arms. “Don’t worry, sweetie-pie,” she murmured, “Mommy’s got you. And she’s not going anywhere. Not even upstairs to chase after Michael.”
Penny let out a little whimpering cry.
“I know,” she whispered. “Mommy’s not happy about that, either.”
…
Before the morning was half done, Michael had burned up a tank of gas. Working through their list of homeowners donating to the auction had netted them so many items, they’d had to make several trips to the elementary school to unload the SUV.
Somehow, he and Amber had managed to act as though they hadn’t had their conversation last night. Act being the key word.
Close to noon, he added the current contribution to the SUV, then made his way back up the path toward the house. Amber stood on the front porch with the elderly homeowner, a woman so tiny, one blast of the backdraft from Santa’s sleigh would probably topple her.
“Thank you again, Mrs. Anderson,” Amber said. “We really appreciate your generosity.”
“My pleasure, always.” The woman rested her hand on Amber’s arm. “And don’t you worry a bit about the ball, dear. You know any Barnett will get my vote.”
He smiled. How many times had someone told them that this morning? Like many of those others, Mrs. Anderson continued, “I’ll be sure to vote for your young man, too.” She glanced toward him and added something new. “He’ll make a handsome King, won’t he?”
Amber smiled. “A very handsome one.”
He gave her a small bow. “With a very beautiful Queen by his side.”
Mrs. Anderson giggled, and Amber’s cheeks turned pink.
As they climbed into the SUV, he said, “We’ve got another full load. Is this why you all waited a couple of days after Christmas to collect the loot? Is everyone getting rid of their surplus now that Santa’s brought them their new gifts?”
“No. We’re just a giving bunch here in Snowflake Valley.”
He wished she would give him the same sunny smile she’d sent him a minute ago. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fighting a headache.”
He pulled to a stop at a light on the main street, Icicle Lane—what else?—and looked over at her again. She wore a fuzzy blue hat patterned with white snowflakes that brought out the blue in her eyes. It also accentuated the strained look around them. “You told me you hadn’t been feeling well on Christmas Eve. Do you think you’re still coming down with something?”
“No. I’m fine. I’m probably just tired more than anything.”
“Did Penny keep you up again last night?”
“She’s a baby,” she snapped. “She cries.”
“I know babies cry. I heard enough of that when I was a kid. I asked if Penny kept you up because I can see by your face that you’re worn out.”
“And short-tempered, obviously,” she murmured. “It’s just a headache. I’m sorry for snapping.”
She didn’t sound overly sorry. He gripped the steering wheel, trying not to beat himself up for what he had told her last night. Trying not to believe he was to blame for her lack of sleep. She’d already known he didn’t want a family.
For the next few blocks, they rode in silence.
The SUV bumped over packed snow near the entrance to the school’s rear driveway. Slowing to a crawl, he crossed the parking lot and pulled as close as he could to the back doors of the two-storied redbrick building. “Is this where you went to school?”
She nodded. “We all did. Penny will come here, too.”
“I can picture you in grade school,” he told her. “I’ll bet you were a good student.”
“You’re half right.” A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “I loved the first year. But after I graduated and moved up from kindergarten into elementary, I tried to skate by in class. Who wants to do all that studying? Luckily, as I told you, I had Callie and Lyssa and their tutoring sessions. They got me through.”
There she went again—giving others credit for an accomplishment she must have worked hard at, too. “I’m sure you buckled down when necessary.”
That brought a laugh. “I didn’t have a choice. Even way back then, Callie was a born teacher. She had a way of tricking me into paying attention, especially when I didn’t want to.”
A good talent to have. Not that he needed the skill, considering when it came to Amber, he needed to keep his distance.
The door of the school opened. Callie stepped out onto the concrete step spanning the width of the building. Josh and Drew followed. “She’s still carrying that clipboard. I haven’t seen her without it once this morning.”
“She lives by clipboards and calendars and spreadsheets and lesson plans. She’s the most organized person I’ve ever known.”
“Are you always so complimentary about your family?”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’m not complimenting her, just telling you what she’s like.”
She focused on positives and strengths, the same qualities he tried to highlight in performance reviews with his employees. That’s what he should be noticing about Amber—her willingness to work and her ability to get a job done. He needed to forget about her sparkling blue eyes and bright smile and the taste of her lips.
They climbed out of the SUV to meet Callie. The two boys veered toward the back of the vehicle to begin unloading boxes. Michael joined them, leaving Amber to bring her sister up to speed on their latest trip.
The older boy, Josh, gave an admiring whistle. “You made an even bigger haul this time than you did the last.”
“Yeah.” Drew laughed. “You’d better not let Callie see this. She’ll put you on her volunteer list for the rest of your life.”
He tried to envision a lifetime spent working with the Barnetts…
“You going to be around for the New Year’s Eve party?” Drew asked.
“Of course he will, dude,” Josh said. “He’s running for Snow Ball King.”
“That’s correct,” he agreed. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to miss seeing the New Year arrive here in Snowflake Valley, would I?” To his surprise, the idea didn’t sound half-bad. “But if you two don’t get this vehicle unloaded, I won’t get credit for the haul, and Callie might have me struck from the ballot.”
“We’ll get right to it,” Josh said.
Drew nodded agreement.
Smiling, Michael went back to Amber and Callie, who stood with their heads together over Callie’s clipboard. “You’ve got those two men well-trained,” he said to her.
“Years of experience.”
“With fourth-graders,” Amber added.
“Hey!” Drew yelled. “We heard that. Are you comparing us to elementary-school kids?”
“You’re not that evolved,” Callie called back.
“Fine. Then I’m ready for my milk and cookies.”
“You’re in luck. It’s almost time for lunch.” She turned back to Michael and Amber. “You two are included in the invitation. How far did you get with the pickups?”
“About halfway,” Amber said. “Down the list, not geographically. We’ll probably have a few stops tomorrow, too.”
Callie looked at him again. “I hope Amber told you to keep track of mileage. We’ll reimburse you for expenses.”
Nice. In his family, he’d be the one handing over the cash. But he shook his head. “No need. Consider it my donation to the cause.”
“Thanks.” Callie smiled. She and Amber headed toward the school. For a minute, he stayed where he was, watching them.
Both sisters had long, wavy hair. Callie’s was a reddish-brown. Amber’s hair in the sunshine looked like dark liquid gold.
Under his breath, he swore to himself. What a fool. Liquid gold and sparkling blue. At this rate, he could fire the people who took care of advertising for the company and write the copy himself.
He caught up to them in Callie’s classroom. Before they broke for lunch, she had them tag everything that had been collected so far. She ran down the list he and Amber had followed, logging each item into the computer, then printing a descriptive card to go with it.
“That’s it!” Mandy took the final card and tagged it to its matching item. “Aren’t you thrilled to have so many happy helpers?”
She had spoken in a teasing tone, but Callie answered seriously, “I couldn’t have done this job without all of you.”
“Including Michael?” Brooke asked, shooting him a glance.
“Most especially Michael.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, laughing.
“In fact,” Callie said, “I think I’ll elevate Michael to my second-in-command.”
She didn’t mean it. Still, the statement made him feel part of the team. Part of the…family.
How did he handle that? Would it have made a difference if the compliment had come from Amber? “Thanks, but I’ll pass on the promotion. There are too many Barnetts in line ahead of me. And don’t forget Nick.”
“Forget me,” Nick pleaded. “Please, forget me.”
As everyone laughed, Lyssa wrapped her arms around him and gave him a loud, smacking kiss. “Oh, no, sweetheart, we have big plans for you.”
“We sure do,” Callie confirmed.
Suddenly Michael envied the man he had pitied just days ago.