Page 22 of Tuxedos and Tinsel
Chris scrutinized Ian for a lengthy minute. “I see. So, how’s Maya?”
“I guess she’s fine. I haven’t talked to her since Sunday.”
“And you’re miserable as hell,” he said with a chuckle.
“Why would I be miserable? I keep telling you it’s not that kind of relationship.”
“If you say so. I’m going to get dessert. You coming?”
“In a minute, after I empty the trash.”
Chris nodded and left the kitchen.
Ian stared after Chris until the door closed. He braced his hands on the counter and bowed his head. His brother was spot-on, but he had no intention of saying so. Releasing a deep breath, he grabbed up the trash bag. Maya was coming over to help him decorate on Sunday, which gave him three days to get his head back on straight.
Sunday afternoon, Maya parked in Ian’s driveway and shut off the engine. Before she made it up the walkway, the door swung open and Ian stood there barefoot, wearing jeans and a T-shirt that molded to his magnificent physique. He unleashed a smile that warmed her all over.
“Hey. Come in.” He kissed her and closed the door. “What’s in the bag?”
She held up the bag. “I made truffles for a bridal shower. I thought you might like some, so I made a few extra.”
He placed his hand on his chest. “A woman after my own heart.”
His heart. Was she really after his heart? Although his words were teasing, a tiny part of her wished she did have his heart. She went still.
“Maya?”
She shook her head to clear the errant thought and extended the bag. “So,” she said brightly, “are you ready to decorate?”
Ian took the bag, still staring at her curiously. “Yeah. Let me run upstairs and get my shoes and a sweatshirt first. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” As soon as he was gone, Maya covered her mouth in disbelief and paced the floor. Maybe helping Ian decorate was a bad idea. They were behaving like a real couple—the shopping, hand-holding, laughter, decorating—and it was getting to her. All week she’d been wrestling with her growing feelings and she had no idea how to make them stop.
“All right, let’s get these lights up outside.”
She whirled around at the sound of Ian’s voice. “I don’t remember you buying any lights.”
“I picked them up this week,” he said, leading her out to the garage. He pressed a wall switch and two of the three garage doors lifted. “I figured I might as well add the lights, since you talked me into getting those lighted lawn structures.”
She helped him carry everything out to the front and waited while he went back for a ladder. Over the next three hours, they strung the lights, arranged and rearranged the lighted lawn decorations. It was near dusk when they finished.
“I think we’re done,” Ian said. “Be right back.” He jogged to the garage, plugged in the lights and jogged back.
“Wow!It’s beautiful.” Maya took in the sight of all the twinkling white icicle lights bordering the first and second levels, and the single white lights framing the large picture window.
Ian joined her at the curb and slung an arm around her shoulder. “It does look good, huh?” He turned her face toward his and tilted her chin. “Thank you,” he whispered just before taking her mouth in a long, drugging kiss. “Your lips are cold. Let’s get you inside and warm you up.”
Maya shivered from his kiss as much as from the cold. She followed him inside to the kitchen and slid onto a barstool.
“I made chicken soup and thought we could have that and turkey sandwiches.”
“You made soup? From scratch?”
He chuckled. “Yes, but I took a couple of shortcuts. I used store-bought chicken stock, and sautéed the vegetables to give it that simmered-all-day flavor.”
“I’ll have to remember that the next time I make chicken soup.” She laughed and hopped down from the stool. “I need to wash my hands.”
“I’ll have everything ready in a few minutes.” He directed her to the kitchen table when she returned and it wasn’t long before he brought bowls of soup and plates with the sandwiches over.
