A Christmas to Remember (17 page)

He glared. “Let’s get something straight. Nothing is going willy-nilly onto any trash heap.”

“Relax. I was kidding. You get to make those decisions. In the meantime, just go about your business. Pretend I’m not here.”

He backed away, looking like he wasn’t at all sure he should trust her. “I’ll be in the dining room working if you need anything.”

“Okay. I’ll start in the living room since that’s where the tree will be. Your mother filled me in on her general decorating scheme.”

“Whatever.” He grunted and disappeared into the dining room.

She walked into the front room and looked around. The décor looked like it dated from the seventies. A plaid sofa and a leather recliner flanked a scarred coffee table. Despite the outdated furniture the room conveyed a homey feel. The pictures on the walls, the candles on the television, the hand- embroidered pillows scattered about. She sat down, letting the ambiance sink into her skin, imagining it full of people who lived, laughed, and loved together. She didn’t know this family, and her first encounter with Lincoln Jones certainly hadn’t been friendly, but she had a talent for reading spaces. She’d bet her bottom dollar that she wasn’t wrong about this one.

Walking back into the dining room she observed Lincoln hard at work. He was wearing old jeans and a white button-down shirt rolled up at the wrists. He had his head bent over his keyboard and a pair of black framed glasses set on his forehead. She wondered how often he lost those. She smiled thinking she could help him with that, too, if he’d let her.

“Real or artificial?” she asked.

Startled, he looked up and stared at her as if he was trying to place her. His glasses slipped down onto his nose. He adjusted them and asked, “Sorry? What did you say?”

“I was asking about the Christmas tree. Does your family do real or artificial? It makes a difference in my timetable.”

He pushed back from the table. “There is an artificial one up in the attic, but since I’m in charge I think we’ll go with a real one this year.”

“So you do have a little Christmas spirit after all. Or is that just your way of avoiding the attic?” From the scowl on his face she probably shouldn’t have mentioned the attic.

“Well, since that’s where the decorations are stored, I’ll still have to get them down either way, so can we cool it with the attic remarks?”

“Sorry.” It probably wasn’t in her best interest to provoke him. “So, a real tree it is. That’s all I needed to know. I’m moving on to the kitchen.”

He made a face. “It’s kind of a mess. I didn’t get around to cleaning in there. I’ll pay you a bonus if you don’t tell my mother how bad it is.”

She laughed and tried to reassure him. “I’m sure I’ve seen worse.”

He sat back down and was engrossed in his work before she made it out the door.

The kitchen wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. The counters were covered with dirty dishes and empty frozen dinner packages. A large trash bag and a few loads in the dishwasher would take care of the biggest problems. She opened the refrigerator and didn’t see anything green growing inside; the stove top was clean, but the pantry could use a bit of organizing. Getting the kitchen ready for Bitsy’s return would be a simple chore.

She left the kitchen and, with notebook in hand, wandered from room to room. Mostly it was the normal chaos she commonly found among the organizationally challenged. Clothes dropped on every surface. Mail and newspapers tossed about. Odds and ends stashed in places for no apparent reason. Judging by the pile by the front door Lincoln seemed to kick his shoes off the minute he walked into the house. And socks showed up in all sorts of strange places.

She opened a door and found a girl’s bedroom, complete with a flowery bedspread and stuffed animals. Linc’s sister’s old bedroom. Behind another door she found a room that contained weight equipment. Setting up a home office had been one of her goals since she’d found him working at the dining room table. He’d need a dedicated work space, especially with his family gathering for the holidays. This room would do nicely. A desk would fit on the far wall. She moved to the closet and just as she put her hand on the doorknob Lincoln’s voice startled her.

“What are you doing? Stay out of there.”

She must have jumped a mile and something in his voice made her feel guilty. Which was silly. Looking around was a requirement of the job. “You scared the living daylights out of me. I’m checking out available storage space. ”

“Well, this room is fine the way it is.” Standing too close, he placed his body between her and the closet in question.

“I’m thinking we could set up a home office in here so you wouldn’t have to use the dining room table. Once your folks get home I assume it will be needed for family meals.”

He looked around the room. “You know, that makes a lot of sense. You could help me do that?” This was the first time he’d shown any real interest in what she was trying to accomplish.

“Sure. Almost anything will work for a desk, but we should find a really good office chair. Those dining room chairs have to be killing your back.” She found pleasure in attempting to anticipate his needs. It was the best part of her job.

“I have an extra chair at the office and there is an old desk in the garage. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.” He was actually smiling at her.

“Thinking is what your mother hired me to do.” She walked back toward the closet. “You can store extra office supplies in here.”

Again he blocked her path. “That’s okay. I’ll bring home what I need from the office.”

Clearly he was determined to keep her from opening that closet door. There was something he didn’t want her to see, and he was entitled to his privacy. Now her curiosity was piqued, but she waved her hand like it didn’t matter and said, “Well, let’s go look at that desk.”

* * *

Linc led the way to the garage. In the far back corner, buried under a stack of boxes, was a walnut desk. He uncovered it and pulled it out to get a good look. “This should work. It’s my grandfather’s old desk.”

Dinah walked around it, pulling open drawers. “It’s beautiful. You’ll never want to work at the dining room table again.”

He smiled. “You’re right. Thanks for thinking of this, Dinah.”

They dusted it off and together moved it into the weight room.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Can I offer you a sandwich?” Linc asked.

“Oh thanks, but I brought my own lunch.”

They sat at the kitchen table. She ate her peanut butter sandwich and drank bottled water. Lincoln ate ham and cheese and drank soda, feeling almost cordial toward her. After lunch he ran to his office and got the chair, and in no time his home office was set up and ready to use.

He carried a stack of folders from the dining room table to his new desk and beamed. “Thank you, Dinah. I don’t know what my mother is paying you, but you more than earned your money with this idea.”

“I’m glad you like it.” She looked at her watch. “I better go now. I’m meeting some friends to go caroling. You’re welcome to join us.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” He leaned against his new desk and crossed his arms across his chest.

She smiled at him indulgently. “Of course, I forgot you don’t like Christmas.”

“I like Christmas,” he insisted.

She shook her head like she didn’t believe him. “See you in the morning.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” He realized he’d enjoyed the time they’d spent today working hand in hand. It was hard to believe, but he was sort of sorry to see her go.

“And then she said, ‘This box is for things you want to keep. This box is for things you want to give away. And this box is for everything you want to throw away.’ ” Linc mimicked Dinah’s voice as he tried to explain to his friend Jake what horror his mother had unleashed upon him. In his own voice he added, “Heavy emphasis on the ‘throw away’ part. We had a tug-of-war over my lucky boxer shorts. She said they should be turned into dust rags. I’ll be fortunate if I have a spare T-shirt to call my own by the time she’s through.”

It had only been almost a week since Dinah first showed up on his porch in that Santa outfit. Gone were the bouncy blond curls and the body-hugging dress. Now she showed up every morning with her hair pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, wearing pressed work clothes and butt-ugly work boots. After the first day when they’d gotten his home office set up, she’d been relentless—sorting, rooting through, and in general turning his house upside down. Oh, she asked his opinion occasionally, but for the most part he felt like he’d run into a buzz saw.

“Is she cute?” Jake asked.

Linc had asked Jake to meet him after work at Romeo’s Pizza. He figured they could have a beer while he vented, but now he gave his friend a hard look. “Forget it. She’s not your type.”

Jake tipped his chair back. “From your description I’d say she’s not your type, either. Easy-going, messy Linc saddled with a neat freak. That’s a good one.”

“Very funny.”

“All I know is I haven’t seen you this worked up over a woman since you dated Polly May Olsen. And that was quite a while ago, buddy.”

“Please. Polly May turned out to be a crazy woman. I was the happiest man alive when she married Allen Bond and moved to Fort Worth.”

He’d dodged a bullet with that lady. She was jealous and clingy and possessive and everything he hated. Since his relationship with her had ended he’d made a point of keeping things casual when it came to dating. And no one in particular had grabbed his attention lately.

Jake nodded. “But Dinah is all you’ve talked about tonight.”

Linc’s beer bottle hit the table with a little more force than necessary. “You’re missing the whole point. I’m not worked up over
her
. I’m worked up over having someone come in and invade my space. I would have gotten the house cleaned up before Mom and Dad came home.”

“You mean you would have called Marla Jean and bribed your poor sister into doing the work for you. Linc, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re a total slob.”

Linc glared, knowing Jake was right. “What’s wrong with expecting my sister to lend a hand? And whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Let me think about that. Wait. I know. I’m on your mother’s side.” Jake had grown up across the street from Linc and considered Bitsy a second mother. “I’m no dummy.”

“Some friend you are.”

“What’s the big deal? This Dinah person comes in and gets the house ready for your mother’s approval and since you helped, you look like the best son ever. And after that you never have to see Miss Neatnik again. Everybody’s happy.”

Linc peeled the label from his beer bottle with his thumb. He wanted to hold on to his resentment, but it was getting harder to do. It pained him to admit that Dinah had performed wonders in a short amount of time. Not only that, but he’d started looking forward to her visits. It sounded corny, but her sunny personality brightened his day. Jake didn’t need to know that, though. He’d never hear the end of it.

With a grumble he relented. “Okay. You’re right.” He looked at his watch and then glanced at the front door.

“Do you have to be somewhere?”

“Dinah’s meeting me here in a while.” He ignored Jake’s knowing smile.

“Interesting. I’ll get to see what all the fuss is about.”

“There’s no fuss. We are going next door to pick out a Christmas tree.”

“Her services include helping you buy a tree? I can’t believe you’re complaining.” Jake looked up and his eyes widened appreciatively at the blond woman approaching their table.

Without preamble she asked Jake, “What’s he complaining about now?”

Linc stood up quickly. “Hey, Dinah. I didn’t see you come in.”

Jake stood up, too. “Well, hello, Dinah. I’m Jake, and this guy’s been singing your praises all night long.”

“Really?” Dinah looked at Linc doubtfully, and then turned back to Jake. “It’s nice to meet you. Linc’s mentioned your name several times.”

“Do me a favor. Don’t believe everything he says.”

Linc scowled as the two seemed to hit it off right away, almost flirting, acting like he wasn’t standing right there beside them.

Dinah leaned toward Jake like they were co-conspirators. “Well, don’t believe what he says about me, either. He’s still in the resistant phase of this operation. It’ll take me a while to soften him up.”

Jake smiled and winked. “You have your hands full. That’s for sure.”

Linc interrupted. “If you two are through having fun at my expense, we should get going. We don’t want to wait until the trees are all picked over. Jake, old buddy, I’ll let you pick up the tab this time.”

Jake stuck his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels. “No problem, old buddy. It was nice to meet you, Dinah.”

“Same here.” She handed him one of her cards. “Just in case you know anyone who needs a hand getting organized.”

“Thanks. You two have fun.” He winked at Linc and sat down to finish his beer.

Linc hustled her out the door, feeling cranky after her encounter with Jake. His friend was a good-looking man who could charm a woman with a single glance. Linc usually found his affect on women amusing, but tonight it hit all the wrong notes.

“So, were you complaining about me?” she asked.

“It would be more accurate to say I was complaining about my mother.”

She laughed. “That’s very diplomatic,” she said as they walked out into the warm December night. “Your friend seems nice.”

“Jake’s a great guy.” His tone was at odds with his words, though. She looked perplexed, so he decided to lighten up. “Sorry. All these twinkling lights and carols are getting on my nerves.”

“You really don’t like Christmas, do you?”

“I never said that.” He paused before confessing, “I’ve just never picked out a tree before.”

“I promise it’ll be painless.” She took his arm and pulled him the short distance to the tree lot.

Ginger’s Christmas Trees looked like a winter wonderland. Like the rest of the town square, it was decorated with a million twinkle lights. Fake snowflakes swayed in the breeze and dangled overhead. Piped-in Christmas music reminded shoppers of the season, and the fragrant smell of evergreens filled the air. Trees of every shape and size stood inside the roped-off area, all waiting to be taken home by some loving family.

“Do you like a tall tree?” Dinah took a few steps inside the entrance.

“I guess so. Tall is good. But I don’t want it to be all scrawny, either.” He picked up a tree and quickly rejected it when he saw the bare spot on one side.

“Here’s a nice one.” Dinah picked up a spruce and waited for his approval.

He made a face and shook his head.

She wandered over to the flocked trees. “How about purple? Or blue? Oh, look. Pale pink. How about one of these?”

“You’re kidding. What self-respecting person would buy a tree covered in fake purple snow? Another perfect example of what’s wrong with Christmas.”

She laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get you started.”

“We are going for a plain old regular green tree. With multicolored lights and icicles. I want the kind of tree we had when I was a kid.”

“So, what have you had the last few years?”

“That fake thing in the attic. Mom uses all white decorations, but since she decided to spring this on me I’m going to do the tree my way. I wonder if the old ornaments we had when we were kids are still in the attic.”

“And I thought you planned to avoid the attic at all costs.”

Before he could answer one of the lot attendants approached them. Monty Goreville was in his mid-seventies, tough as an old rooster, and somewhere along the line most of his teeth had gone missing. “Hey, Linc, can I help you find a tree?” He graced Dinah with his toothless smile.

“Hey, Monty, we’re just looking around.” At that moment Linc spotted a tree across the way. “Hold on. I think I see a possibility now.” He took off and grabbed the tree, turning it around, checking for bad spots. “This is it,” he crowed while doing a little jig.

Dinah smiled like he’d found the golden egg at a goose convention. He’d begun to notice that her smile did funny things to his insides. It didn’t make sense. This short, blond, pushy woman was not his type at all, but she aimed that smile in his direction and he felt the impact all the way down to his toes and back again.

“That is a great tree, Lincoln.” She seemed tickled by his success, and it was enough to make him puff up even more.

“We’ll take this one, Monty.”

Monty picked up the tree and looked at it approvingly. “That there’s a Douglas fir, and I’m willin’ to bet you found one of the best trees on the lot.”

Dinah patted Linc on the arm. “Not bad for your first tree-buying adventure.”

“Heck, what can I say? I’m a man with many talents.” The touch of her hand on his arm spread a kind of bliss through his chest, and for a moment he got lost looking into her green eyes. Her mouth suddenly seemed perfect for kissing. He leaned in, giving in to the overpowering need to taste her lush pink lips.

Monty cleared his throat to get their attention and the spell was broken. Linc took a deep breath and stepped back.

Monty grinned. “So, kids, if you’ll follow me over to the sales counter.”

“Thanks, Monty.” Linc composed himself as he approached the tall counter. “Evening, Ginger.”

“Hi, Linc.” Ginger took the tree tag from Monty and rang up the tree on the old-fashioned cash register. “Is this your new girl?” Ginger smiled at Dinah like they were best friends. “I’d heard tell you were squiring some cute blonde all over town.”

Lincoln laughed sheepishly and made introductions. “Ginger, this is Dinah Mason. She’s my organizational expert. A present from my mom.”

Ginger’s eyes widened as if she’d never heard of such a thing. As if “organizational” was code for something else, but she nodded her head sagely. “Well, that’s real nice. Tell your folks I said hi.”

Monty loaded up the tree in the back of Linc’s truck. “You’re ready to go, and I threw in a bunch of mistletoe for luck.” With another wink aimed at Dinah, he added, “Ya’ll have a Merry Christmas now.” Then he scooted off to help another customer.

“I’ll get the tree up in its stand tonight,” Linc said. “Then it’ll be all ready to decorate by the time you get to the house tomorrow. Does that sound okay?”

“Sounds good. I have to get home anyway and bake cookies for a cookie exchange.” Dinah stopped by her car.

“Another one of your never-ending holiday activities?”

She smiled that sunny smile and his world tilted once more. It was all he could do not to walk over and pull her against his body, kiss her, finish what he’d almost started a few moments ago.

She got into her car. “If you’re nice I’ll bring you a cookie. Goodnight, Lincoln.”

Linc stood watching her taillights disappear down the road. Then he climbed into his truck and headed home. Instead of being annoyed with his mother, he thought about how much he’d enjoyed picking out a tree with Dinah. It felt domesticated, and couple-ish, and all the things that usually sent him running from a woman like his pants were on fire. Tonight, though, the idea hadn’t scared him the way it usually did, and he didn’t know what to make of the situation. He had to admit he found her awfully attractive. Hell, he’d almost kissed her in a very public place. Maybe it was just that he hadn’t gone out with anyone in a serious way that mattered for a long time.

But he couldn’t imagine getting involved with someone like Dinah. She was prim and precise, and she’d want to change everything about him. Regulate, smooth down, and even up every jagged corner of his life. He enjoyed his laid-back—and okay,
messy
—lifestyle just the way it was, and no cute blonde with green eyes and legs that went on forever was going to convince him he needed to change. No way, no how. Not in a million years. But he still caught himself humming “Jingle Bells” all the way home.

* * *

Dinah unlocked her front door and walked inside. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her purse on the floor where she stood. Lately, she found her orderly thoughts scattered in all directions, and Lincoln Jones was to blame. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. The man scrambled her brain, and when you were in her line of work a scrambled brain was a real disadvantage.

Goodness, she needed to pull herself together. She picked up her purse and placed it on the shelf by the front door designated for that purpose and then picked up her shoes and carried them into her bedroom, tucking them inside the closet. Putting on her slippers, she walked out to her kitchen and found a pasta dinner in the freezer.

She tapped her foot impatiently, watching her food turn around and around in the microwave. Lincoln had looked like a little kid when he found that tree. It was a great tree, too. Tall and splendid like the man who’d picked it out. Okay, maybe splendid was too poetic. But he was funny and opinionated and sexy as all get-out.

She was finding too much pleasure watching him while he worked. He was so intense, so focused, his concentration so complete, he didn’t have time for worrying about silly ideas like putting things in proper places.

With a dreamy sigh she wondered what it would feel like to have that concentration focused on her. If he ever really touched her she might shatter to a million pieces. Lordy, the simple brush of his hand against hers set her nerves to tingling. And tonight, for just a moment, when he’d looked deeply into her eyes at Ginger’s, she’d been able to imagine being wrapped in his arms, his mouth crashing down on hers. But the moment passed, thankfully, before she embarrassed herself. Gad, she’d been on the verge of grabbing him and kissing the living stuffing out of him. She really needed to get a hold of herself. This job was too important. A little decorum was in order. Tomorrow she promised herself to act professionally at all times. Mooning over Lincoln was officially forbidden. At least during working hours.