“See? How would you have known if I hadn't told you?”
“I've never met anyone quite like you.”
“I'm not so unusual. You just don't get out much.”
He laughed then. “Maybe that's it.”
She had never heard him laugh before. Had never seen his usually stern face lightened with a full grin. It didn't last long, but oh, lordy, it was amazing. And by the time he sobered again, Lucy was even more convinced that she wouldn't be getting over her feelings for Banner anytime soon.
Leaving the gumbo to simmer and the cake to bake, Banner and Lucy moved back into the living room. Banner was still rattled by her outrageous flattery. He wasn't used to that sort of flirting, and he wasn't sure how to respond. But, oddly enough, he had rather liked it. It was nice to hear that she found him attractive.
Trailing her into the living room, he allowed his gaze to travel down her trim figure. Speaking of spectacular bodies…
All too aware of the sleeping bag still spread invitingly in front of the fire, he cleared his throat and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
He tried to mask his thoughts when Lucy turned to look at him. “Where's that deck of cards we were playing with Christmas Eve?”
“Cards?” Did Lucy plan to demonstrate her mind-reading skills again? If she wanted to read his mind, she didn't need a deck of cards. She only had to check out the condition of his body, instead.
“We can pass the time by playing gin rummy or something while our dinner cooks.”
“Gin rummy.” He shook his head as soon as the words left his mouth; he sounded like a damned parrot repeating everything she said.
“Or some other game,” she said cheerfully. “It doesn't really matter.”
“For someone who claims not to like games, you sure play a lot of them,” he grumbled, digging the cards out of a table drawer.
“I love games-just not the hypocritical ones that people play in social situations,” she corrected, settling on the floor in front of the coffee table.
He sank onto the couch and handed her the cards. “How can you survive in the academic world without playing social games?”
She took the cards from the box and began to shuffle them. “Academia has its own set of rules that I follow sporadically. And you'll note that I chose a small, public university as opposed to one of the more structured liberal arts schools. It's a somewhat less political, kiss-up type atmosphere.”
“I couldn't put up with all the bull, myself.”
“Which is why you choose to be self-employed. I figure putting up with a certain amount of bull is the price of working in a job that I enjoy.”
Made sense, he supposed. And he couldn't help noticing that nothing in her words or her behavior seemed to imply that her teaching career was any more respectable than his woodworking. Of course, she probably hadn't stopped to think about the fact that she had a Ph. D. and he'd gotten no further, academically, than high school graduation.
He picked up the seven cards she had dealt to him. “What are we playing?”
“Gin rummy. Do you have any fives?”
He looked at her over the cards. “That isn't the way you play gin rummy.”
“It isn't?”
“No. You're playing Go Fish.”
“Oh. Well, do you have any fives?”
Shaking his head, he handed her a card. “You don't actually know how to play gin rummy, do you?”
“Apparently not.”
Because Lucy was such a proponent of speaking one's mind, he said, “You aren't quite normal, are you aware of that?”
She laughed, which he had to admit was the reaction he had hoped for, since he liked the sound so much. “That's what my father always says. I think the two of you would hit it off.”
Himself and the major? Doubtful, Banner thought, looking at the cards in his hand. Not that he expected to meet Lucy's father anytime soon, if ever.
“Got any sevens?” she asked.
“Go fish.”
She grinned and reached for a card.
Glancing again at the sleeping bag, Banner sighed and resigned himself to playing a slightly offbeat card game with a decidedly offbeat Christmas elf. But the game was interrupted only a few minutes later by a loud rapping on the front door.
Recognizing the rhythm of the knock, Banner stood and crossed the room to answer.
The man on the doorstep wore a thick gray knit cap topped with a purple tassel, a neon-yellow jacket zipped over jeans that looked ready for a rag bin, and expensive running shoes that had seen a lot of hard use. His brown hair hung in a low ponytail over the collar of the jacket, and his lean face was stubbled with two or three days worth of beard. “Hey, Banner. How's it going?”
“Hey, Polston. What's up?”
“Not the temperature. It's cold as a gold digger's heart out here. Really dumb time to go out for a run, but I was feeling restless. Gonna ask me in or are you being antisocial today?”
“No, come in.”
A couple of years younger than Banner, Polston lived in a log cabin a few miles down the road. They had known each other almost two years and had become friends and frequent running partners during that time. At least, Banner supposed they could be called friends, even though he certainly didn't feel as if he knew the other man that well. Kyle Polston was almost as rabid as Banner about maintaining his privacy.
Polston was talking even as he entered the living room. “I was thinking about getting up early in the morning and driving to Springfield to the big sporting goods store there. I'm hoping to find a couple of after-Christmas bargains on some fly fishing gear. Thought you might want to…”
He had spotted Lucy. She still sat cross-legged on the floor, and the firelight danced in her red-gold curls. Lively curiosity gleamed in her big green eyes. Her sensual mouth was curved into a warm smile of welcome. Banner figured there wasn't a man alive who would look at her now and not feel as though he had been body slammed.
The way Polston was staring at her seemed to confirm Banner's assumption. Banner watched as the other man took in Lucy's tumbled hair, shoeless feet and the sleeping bag spread in front of the fireplace. And then he turned to look speculatively at Banner. “I see you already have plans.”
“Lucy, meet Polston. My neighbor.”
She stood and held out her hand. “It's very nice to meet you, Mr…?”
“Kyle Polston,” he clarified, taking her hand and holding it. “You can call me whatever you like-as long as you call me.”
Banner cleared his throat. Even to him it sounded suspiciously like a growl. Polston grinned. “Message received,” he murmured, then reluctantly released Lucy's hand. “Have you two known each other long?”
“Not very long,” Banner replied. “We're about to have dinner. Would you like to join us?”
He'd felt obligated to make the offer, not wanting Lucy to think him rude, but he wasn't disappointed when Polston shook his head. “I don't want to intrude. Need me to pick up anything for you in Springfield tomorrow?”
“See if they've got a good deal on number-five weight forward-floating fly line and some 6X tippet. I'll reimburse you, of course.”
“Will do. Lucy, it's been a pleasure to meet you.” He took her hand again as he spoke, holding it long enough to make Banner's scowl return. “I hope we have a chance to see each other again.”
Banner motioned toward the door. “You'll probably want to head home before dark. As you said, it's damned cold out there.”
Polston grinned. “Here's your hat, what's your hurry? Don't worry, Banner, I can take a hint. I'll let you know if I find a sale on the fishing line and tippet.”
“See you, Polston.” Banner closed the door behind the other man with a sense of relief he couldn't quite
