Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3) (3 page)

BOOK: Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3)
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“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 middle 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-cheeked 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?”

“We’re just happy you’re home,” Mark said.

She met Derek’s gaze for a split second. Butch elbowed Derek. “Isn’t she the one who broke the fundraisin’ record to get new uniforms fer both the girls and boys basketball teams?”

“The one and only.” Derek did not sound as excited as Butch.

“Nobody’s broke that record since,” Butch said.

“Way to go, sis.”

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking, Grandpa?” Janelle asked.

Butch winked at his granddaughter. “I believe so, Janey.”

Lisa noticed everyone staring at her. When did she become a monkey in a cage? “What’s going on?”

Derek sighed, but other than that, his expression didn’t tell her a darn thing.

Janelle glanced up at Mark, who shrugged. With his arm around his new wife’s shoulders, he explained, “We run Whispering Pines about fifty percent on donations, but want to offer more free stays for veteran soldiers and their families. Plus, Janelle hopes to add another barn for a rescue riding stable and indoor arena, so we’ve just begun a joint fundraising drive. Our goal is to raise fifty thousand dollars by the New Year’s Eve Ball.”

“Wow. Ambitious.”
Really
ambitious, Lisa thought.

“You could help out,” Butch suggested.

Judy made a tsking sound. “Lisa just got back in town—shame on you all for putting her on the spot.”

So true. She had to find a job and figure out what the heck to do with her life. However—

“Lisa always was an expert at multi-tasking,” Derek argued. The challenge in his tone caught her attention, and she met his gaze. “I bet she could find some time.”

He wanted to go this route again? One-upping Derek on the toast had given her that old familiar sense of accomplishment—but it had been so fleeting. And not really worth it. Perhaps as an adult, she’d be able to take a firm hold of the reckless competitive streak he triggered and still contribute to a good cause.

She ignored Derek and smiled at Mark and Janelle. “I would love to help.”

“Great!” Janelle exclaimed. She looked from Lisa, to Derek, and back. “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun if you two had a little contest to see who could raise the most money? Just like old times.”

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Derek’s hands clenched at his side.
Great. Just great, Janelle
. He waited for Lisa to gleefully pounce at the opportunity to bury him again, only to be surprised by her dismayed expression.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she said.

He should be relieved. Instead, his competitive demon demanded retribution for all the humiliation it’d endured during the
old times
. He’d bury her. “Why not?” he asked.

BOOK: Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3)
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