His Holiday Heart by Jillian Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

anything he might say would hurt Dorrie’s feelings, and he wouldn’t do that on his life. So he left her to her victory and her hopes and stalked out into the frigid garage. He was out of luck. There was no coat or anything he could use anywhere in the neatly organized shelving. Dorrie was right. He couldn’t stay outside forever. He hit the garage opener, and who was standing there holding his coat?
    Lucy. He gritted his teeth and prepared for his system to go haywire. His palms went damp. His face felt hot. He suddenly seemed far too tall and big and awkward.
    Dainty, petite Lucy was sweet and unruffled. She obviously wasn’t having a problem functioning. No, she looked calm and at ease, without so much as a nervous flicker. She was wrapped up warmly in her parka and fuzzy hat, scarf and mittens—in neon blue.
    “Your sisters thought you might need this.” She held out his warm coat like a peace offering.
    He did not want a peace offering. He wanted his system to return to normal. He wanted the static to clear from his brain and the panic to leave his bloodstream. He forced his feet toward her and plucked the coat out of her grip. “They forced you to bring this out?”
    “You know they did. They all used the pregnancy excuse, and your grandmother simply shouldn’t be out in the ice.”
    “It is getting colder out.” It was the closest thing he could say to thank you. He was grateful for her concern about his grandmother, but that was as far as he was willing to go. It was best to keep the status quo of him disliking her and her avoiding him. He punched his arms into the sleeves of his coat. “You can go now.”
    She squinted her pretty eyes at him and folded her arms over her chest. The contemplative look on her lovely face made his stomach drop.
    Uh-oh. He was going to get some comment on that. As he spotted the bag of deicer and strode toward it—alarmingly close to her—he could hear her mind working. The best defense was a good offense, so he started talking before she could start in. “Go. Just because I helped you last night doesn’t mean I want you hanging around today.”
    “Sure, I see that.” She winced, and there was a shadow of hurt in her soft green eyes.
    It stung his conscience, but he had to set boundaries. He had to drive her away and keep her there because of the strange weakening in the vicinity of his heart. Every instinct he had began to shout danger! Longing eased to life in his soul—a deep, quiet wish that he could not allow.
    “I think I have your number, Spence McKaslin.”
    “I doubt it.” He grabbed the scoop inside the deicer bag and filled it. There was no way she could know his secret. No possible way. He straightened, doing his level best to keep his focus on the concrete in front of his boots. With great effort, he was able to walk right on past her like a normal, not interested, unaffected man.
    He was careful to keep his back to her, though, as he scattered the pellets across the driveway. Her boots pattered on the concrete behind him. He could feel her intake of breath. She was preparing to say whatever she had been thinking so hard about, and he wasn’t going to stand for it. He had defenses to fortify and shields to keep in place.
    “Go in, Lucy. Go away.” Those words didn’t come out nearly as harsh as he wanted, and he winced. How was he going to drive her away if he didn’t sound mean and unfriendly? Where had his commanding voice gone? Where was his embittered grimace? He tried to summon them up, but they were as frozen as the wintry world around him.
    “You can growl and bark all you want. I’m not going anywhere.” Lucy padded on by him in her expensive designer boots. She was holding a smaller scoop, and she had the audacity to sprinkle pellets, too. “You can’t scare me anymore.”
    “Why not?” He deepened his voice and scowled extra hard.
    “Because I have figured you out, Spence McKaslin.”
    “Unlikely.”
    “Likely,” she corrected