Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3) (9 page)

****

Lisa parked Derek’s truck by the residence wing of Whispering Pines Lodge and sat for a moment. Her second interview in Green Bay for the City Hall job hadn’t gone well at all, so she’d spent the rest of the afternoon securing donations for the fundraiser. With a lot of dogged determination, she’d done moderately okay in the city.

Still, no matter how busy she kept herself, nothing kept Derek’s declaration from replaying in her mind all day long. “
You can bet the bank I’m winning this one.”
If she’d realized exactly where that kiss would lead, she never would’ve made the move.

Well…yeah, she would’ve—with a different approach. Something to keep them on even ground, because now she wondered, did he like her, or would she be nothing more than a challenge to win?

The realization that she wanted to be so much more to him than a challenge made her want to run back to Indiana. After he’d gotten a taste of winning with the pies and basketball game, she’d never seen him so sure of himself. His confidence was a turn on by itself. One more kiss, and she was afraid she’d fail any attempt at defense in a matter of seconds, no matter the cost.

But when he won the game, where would that leave her now that she saw the man he’d become?

She blew out a cleansing breath and reached for the two bottles of wine on the passenger seat. Forget Derek for now. The next few hours were hers to unwind with her brother and new sister-in-law, and maybe pitch some future fundraising ideas over dinner and a glass of wine…or five. After all, Mark had invited her to stay at the lodge if she wanted, and it was snowing. Again.

Her knock at their private entrance triggered barking on the other side of the door. While she waited for someone to answer, her glance traveled across the full parking lot and massive entrance to the fieldstone and log structure.

The snow-covered walkway glistened like a million diamonds had been spilled under the old-fashioned, post-mounted carriage lanterns. Christmas lights twinkled on the roofline and porch railings. The place looked like a Thomas Kinkade painting come to life, complete with the sounds of laughter from the families mingling about the grounds and the porch.

The sound of the door opening brought Lisa back around with a smile. Derek’s large frame filling the doorway shocked her tired senses. Janelle’s two dogs, Duke and Daisy, crowded around her legs, whining for attention. Lisa’s gaze never left Derek’s.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too.” He stood aside with a grin that increased his appeal ten-fold. It also drew attention to his mouth. Which reminded her of the last time she’d seen him. In the gym. With his hard body pressing hers against the wall. Awareness sizzled through her like an egg dropped into a hot frying pan.

Oh, God, there goes my relaxation.

“I didn’t know you’d be here, that’s all.” A quick glance located mistletoe on the archway two steps ahead, so she slipped to the side, trying not to trip on the dogs. Derek’s footsteps echoed behind her, and his hands settled on her shoulders. She caught her breath when he leaned close, his lips against her ear.

“My family, too, remember?” He brushed past, relieving her of the wine bottles on the way. When Mark materialized from the kitchen, Derek spun to face her but kept walking backward.

Chicken
, he mouthed. His laughing gaze flicked up to the mistletoe behind her.

It was a little unnerving how well he could read her.

Mark stepped between them and wrapped her in a bear hug. “Hey, sis, you’re late.”

“I know. Sorry.” Lisa unzipped her coat and handed it over so he could hang it in the closet. Leaning down to stroke Daisy’s head, she said in an undertone, “You didn’t tell me Derek was gonna be here, too.”

“I just found out myself. Janelle stopped to pick up some donations he’d gotten for the New Year’s Eve silent auction and invited him to join us.” Mark paused on their way to the kitchen. “Why, is it a problem?”

“No, of course not.” She pasted on a smile and escaped his speculative gaze, only to have to avoid staring at Derek in his hip-hugging faded jeans. The white collar of his button-up shirt set off his black sweater. “Mmm, something smells good in here.”

Janelle closed the oven, exchanged hugs with Lisa, and leaned against the stove as she brushed a red curl back. “Thanks. I made burgundy pot roast with baby reds and steamed carrots. I put the rolls in when I heard your knock—they’ll be done in a few
 
minutes.”

“I’m sorry I’m late, I had to stop at home and change. I had an interview in Green Bay and then stayed to see if I could get some donations for the fundraiser.”

“How’d that go?” Derek asked.

“I’m not telling you how much you need to catch up.”

“I meant the interview.”

“Oh.” She shifted her gaze from Derek, to Mark setting wine glasses on the counter. Daisy lay by Mark’s feet, and Duke watched Derek’s every move like he had tasty treats instead of wine. “Well…let’s just say they didn’t say no outright, but I’m not holding my breath, either.”

“Where’s the job?” Janelle dug a wine key out of the drawer for Derek.

“City Hall. But as usual, I don’t have the necessary experience.”

Bitterness tainted her words, and Derek’s hand stilled for a second before turning the screw into the wine cork with a forceful twist.
So much for my assertion that I don’t care.
Lisa moved over to the table so she wouldn’t have to meet Derek’s gaze.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked Janelle.

“No, thank you. As soon as the rolls are done—” The timer on the oven started beeping. Janelle smiled. “We can sit and eat.”

Mark grabbed a potholder and removed the pan. Janelle joined him to transfer the hot rolls into a linen lined bread basket, standing close enough that the length of their bodies touched. Lisa didn’t miss the love that passed between them as Janelle ran a hand up Mark’s arm to his shoulder. Mark leaned toward his wife, clearly intending to kiss her in the close confines of the kitchen.

Envy tightened Lisa’s chest and without meaning to, she glanced at Derek. A second later, his gaze shifted from the kissing couple and met hers. The heat in his eyes told her he recalled those moments in the gym, too. She started to wet her dry lips, then realized he’d shifted his attention to her mouth.

Lisa turned away, but he stepped close a moment later. Her heart rate shot up when his chest brushed her back. He reached around her to offer a glass of wine.

“Thanks.” She took a fortifying sip, then a gulp when Derek’s spicy scent wafted past her nose. Thankfully, Janelle carried the breadbasket to the table and they all sat to eat.

To her surprise, Lisa relaxed within minutes and the conversation flowed as readily as the laughter and the wine. She may have never taken the time to get to know Janelle in high school, but she appreciated the opportunity now. And she saw how true her wedding toast was—the petite redhead definitely made her brother happy.

Better yet—or maybe worse—she thoroughly enjoyed Derek’s company, despite the fact that his knee firmly planted against hers kept her physically aware of him every second. His laid-back style made it easy to drop her earlier reserve and joke with him. It didn’t take much to understand why both her brothers got along with him so well.

The wine loosened her tongue enough that when Mark leaned back in his chair and insisted she finally relay the story of why she’d almost missed the wedding, she led off with how she’d had to quit her job to come home in the first place.

Just past the part about the Illinois state trooper who’d pulled her over on I-294 north of Chicago, Derek abruptly rose to his feet and began to clear everyone’s empty plates. Duke and Daisy jumped up, tails wagging. Janelle rose, but Derek motioned her down.

“I got ‘em. Sorry, Lisa, continue.”

Was there an edge to his tone, or was it just her imagination? Janelle and Mark didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, so she moved on to the increasing snow, the icy roads, and how she’d lost control and slid into the ditch a few miles shy of the church.

By now, Derek leaned against the island counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s amazing you made it at all,” Janelle said.

“What’d you do, break a mirror?” Mark teased.

Lisa finished off her third glass of wine and debated another. “If I did, with the way my luck has been, I’ve got another four bad years to deal with. Thanks for alerting me to
that
uplifting prospect.” She filled her glass.

“If it makes you feel any better, we’re all happy you’re home,” Janelle told her.

“I know. And I’m glad to be home, even if I felt like a complete failure on my way here.”
God, did she just say that out loud?
She spun the wine glass back and forth with her thumb and forefinger on the stem.

Janelle reached forward to cover Lisa’s hand with her own. “You’re not a failure. Things will work out—and maybe that interview today didn’t go as bad as you think.”

“Oh, no, it did. I swear, sometimes it seems like fate is conspiring against me, like maybe I have to pay for my early success,” she said, attempting to turn it all into a joke before serious, melancholy emotions took hold.

“There was a time you led a charmed life,” Mark agreed with a grin.

“I worked hard for it.” Lisa forced a laugh at herself. “Lot of good it did me. Now, it doesn’t seem to matter what I do, I can’t get ahead.”

A loud snort from Derek drew their attention. “Please tell me that’s the wine talking.”

Lisa frowned at the note of disdain in his voice and forgot her attempt at levity. “You don’t believe in karma?”

“I believe in bullshit.”

Lisa stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t know what’s worse—you spouting this load of crap, or the fact that you expect us to believe it and join in your little pity party.”

Chapter Seven

“
Derek.
”

Janelle’s sharp admonishment jerked his attention away from Lisa’s shocked expression.

“What?” His fingers clenched on the edge of the counter and he fought the urge to back off. “Seriously, why should we feel sorry for her? She’s beautiful, she’s smart—she could do anything she wants. Obviously, we all remember high school. If you ask me, she’s got no one to blame but herself.”

Mark shifted in his chair to face Derek. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

From his realization that she
had
changed over the past nine years. And so had he. There was a time he wouldn’t have had the guts to challenge her on something so personal, but damn it, she sounded like she just accepted whatever life threw her way these days. Where the hell had her fight gone?

Mark held up a hand. “On second thought, maybe you’d better shut up since you don’t even really know my sister.”

“She may be your sister, but after four years of her beating me at everything that counted, believe me, I know her better than you. The only time I’ve seen her fight since she came back is when she tried to beat me at basketball yesterday.”

Lisa’s hand smacked the table. Everyone jumped, including the dogs. “Stop talking like I’m not here.”

Derek narrowed his gaze on her. “Fine. Tell me this then, what the hell happened to you?”

But he already knew. She’d become so accustomed to the thrill of victory that she didn’t know how to handle the reality of losing. After three years, it looked like she was still trying to figure it out. He saw the truth of the fact in her eyes before she lifted her glass and stared into the burgundy depths.

“I told you—”

“Yeah, you told me about that scumbag on the campaign—but the Lisa Riley I knew wouldn’t have let that beat her.”

“What are you talking about?” Mark shifted his gaze between Derek and Lisa.

“Nothing.” Lisa replaced her glass and pushed up from the table, glaring at Derek. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t fight Spencer because it didn’t take me long to realize I was glad to be out of politics.” She shifted her gaze to Janelle and Mark. “Thanks for dinner, but I’m going home now.”

Mark protested when she strode from the room, but Janelle laid a hand on his arm.

Derek swallowed hard.
Damn.
He’d blown it. He shouldn’t have pushed so hard. He should’ve talked to her in private.
Damn!

“Derek, I don’t think she should drive herself home,” Janelle murmured.

Derek hesitated, remembered her pouring that last glass of wine, then pushed away from the counter. Mark rose to his feet and barred the way. “I think you’ve done enough.”

“This is between—”

The front door slammed. Janelle stood up between them, facing Mark. “Honey, she’s driving Derek’s truck anyway, let him take her home and save me a trip in the snow.”

Mark frowned. “Why the hell is she driving his truck?”

“Long story—I’ll tell you later.”

Derek hurried past, thankful his tiny cousin was able to handle the man who could probably pound him into the ground. He and Mark may be close in height and build, and they’d developed a friendship over the past year, but at a time like this, Mark’s military background was enough to intimidate anyone.