Mistletoe Hero

“Is it true Shane and Gabe came to blows over you?” David asked, concern creasing his handsome face. “See whoever you like, but I want to know my little sister is safe and not dating some nut with a volatile temper.”

“No one came to blows! Honestly. You know I love Mistletoe, but the local grapevine needs to simmer down.” She shrugged out of her jacket and decided to go for that coffee. If they wanted to follow, fine, but she hadn’t slept well and she wasn’t postponing her caffeine fix to answer ludicrous allegations.

No one trailed her down the hall, but she couldn’t stay in the back forever. She was officially on the clock and would need to open the store in ten minutes. Besides, since the topic had already been introduced, she wanted to find out exactly what was being spread around town.

“No punches were thrown,” she reiterated when she returned. “Just some angry words. And Shane instigated those. Did the rumor mill manage to get that right?” Or were people who didn’t have the facts blaming Gabe for events he hadn’t caused?

“Shane picked a fight with Sloan?” David asked. “Not very bright.”

“Actually, Shane picked a fight with me.”

“Even less bright,” Tanner said, a dangerous gleam in his light eyes. “Should we kick his ass?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Arianne said. “I don’t need anyone riding to my rescue.” She didn’t plan ever to admit that there was a tiny, uncivilized part of her that had thrilled to the idea of Gabe physically defending her. Not that she needed to be protected from Shane.

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” she said. “Shane was upset over my rejecting him at the beginning of the week. Mix a bruised ego with a bad day and a few beers, you get one guy with a big mouth, casting aspersions on my taste in men and character in general.”

Since she’d ruled out the bloodthirsty approach, David went for the pragmatic. “We can ban him from the store. No one talks to a Waide like that.”

“What about a Sloan?” she mused, feeling that protective rush again, the one that made her want to take Gabe into her arms and soothe him with kisses. Except that her imagined scenario only remained soothing for about ten seconds before it blazed into something far more primal and far less altruistic.

“Huh?” Tanner asked. “What are you talking about?”

“You said no one talks to a Waide like that. What makes us special? You don’t think Gabe deserves the same courtesy?”

The men exchanged glances, startled by her outburst.

“Never mind,” she said. “I was just trying to make a hypothetical point. Can we get to work now?”

“You heard her,” Zachariah said. “Let’s get this place open for business. That Alaskan cruise your mother wants to take isn’t going to pay for itself.”

Arianne smiled gratefully at her father. He and David went in the back to switch the phone from its prerecorded message over to live calls and get things up and running in the office. Tanner gathered up his coat and briefcase, preparing to go.

“Bye, shortie.” He ruffled her hair, but then stood there, searching her face instead of leaving.

“I’m fine,” she said through her teeth. “Just annoyed at Shane’s macho proprietary B.S. He had no right to treat Gabe like that.”

Tanner laughed. “My guess is that Gabe can take care of himself.”

He shouldn’t have to. No one should go through life alone, she thought, wildly grateful that she hadn’t been an only child. Gabe’s mother had died during his childhood, and she didn’t think his father had remarried. Were both Sloan men lonely? Maybe she shouldn’t worry so much about helping him reconnect with the random and assorted citizens of Mistletoe and simply help him build a stronger relationship with his dad. She couldn’t imagine where she’d be without her own family.

She made shooing motions toward the door. “Be gone already.”

“Okay. But I’ll be back. This conversation isn’t necessarily over.”

“You mean, you’re going to be obnoxious about this?”

“Put yourself in my shoes,” he said. “If you were worried about me or David, would you leave us alone to muddle through it ourselves or butt in with nosy questions and blunt advice?”

Arianne sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

GABE WORKED FEVERISHLY on Friday morning, trying to squeeze an entire day’s productivity into half his normal hours…and trying to take his mind off Arianne’s surprising exit last night. He thought he’d be the one to walk away, yet she’d kissed him, then disappeared back inside before he could even process what had happened.

A wonderful time, she’d said. Which part? His being socially awkward with her, nearly decking a friend of hers or leaving without a proper goodbye?

Admit it, you were having a good time, too. Before Shane’s interruption, Gabe had enjoyed shooting pool, bantering with Arianne.

He worked through his normal lunch hour, then called it a day around two o’clock, wanting the afternoon to explore new opportunities. At home he put in calls to a distant cousin and to Mike, letting them know he’d appreciate it if they kept their ears to the ground regarding job openings or reasonably priced housing. He even phoned Nicole Jones, although he experienced an irrational slash of guilt when he heard her voice.

Arianne’s face flashed in his mind, which made him gruff when he answered Nicole’s delighted greeting.

“It’s been too long since we talked,” Nicole scolded. “You know, Atlanta’s not that far away, if you ever want to get away for a weekend.”

There was a time when he would have taken her up on what she was offering. He’d met Nicole last year, when she’d been a recent divorcee on temporary leave from her law firm and in town to restore and sell the house her great-aunt had left her. She’d hired Gabe and they’d hit it off almost immediately. They’d both known from the onset that it would be a brief affair-she was still going through the grieving process for her marriage-but he’d never regretted the time they spent together.

Talking to her now, he suspected that they’d only be platonic friends going forward. He felt no spark of desire. “Actually, Nic, what I want is to get away permanently. I’m job-hunting. Can I use you as a reference?”

“Absolutely! You probably doubled what I would have made on that house.”

They talked for a few minutes, and it was comfortable. Like a flannel shirt. Nothing like the prickly, charged encounters he had with Arianne.

Damn it. What was that, the fiftieth time he’d thought of her today? Determined to put her out of his mind, he booted up his computer, checking a few occupational sites and tweaking his resume. As he surfed some job postings, he had an idea. What if he found a college campus that had open positions in the grounds crew or repair and maintenance? Did university employees get discounts on tuition? Once upon a time, he’d planned to take classes, get a degree. Sure, he was older than the typical freshman, but maybe it wasn’t too late.

If he were going to be taken seriously as an applicant anywhere, however, he would need more references than Nicole Jones. He would have to ask some people from Mistletoe. He decided to start with Mindy Nelson, a widow who not only hired Gabe regularly, but who’d told him once that her brother-in-law, owner of a small residential construction company in Florida, had been impressed with the deck Gabe had built for her.

Mindy worked over at the Mistletoe senior center. Gabe looked up the number in the phone book and called.

“Mindy Nelson,” she chirped.

“Hi, it’s Gabe Sloan-”

“Gabriel! I was just talking about you. Dele Momsen and I had lunch together and she told me about how you’re helping with her walk-the-plank idea. I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job. I’ve always been so impressed with your work.”

He blinked at the effusive praise. “Thank you, ma’am. That makes what I called you about a little easier. I’m interested in pursuing other career possibilities and wondered if I could list you as a-”

“Oh, where are you interviewing?”

“Nowhere yet. I’m putting together applications.”

“For places in town?” she asked, sounding confused. “Will you still have your own business on the side?”

“Actually, I want to look outside Mistletoe. I think it’s time for me to move on.”

“What? Oh, no! We’ll hate to see you go.”

He doubted many people would share that sentiment, but he was touched nonetheless. “I’ll miss you, too.