Whatever We Are: A Highland Springs Romance (Whatever Series Book 3) Read online

  “What? Because of those girls?” The puff of air she released ruffled the gray curls lying on her forehead.

  “Who?”

  “The ones who were drooling over you.”

  “Oh, so you’re jealous?”

  “Hardly.” A stab of pain burned in her chest causing her to fold in half.

  “You okay?” He rubbed his gloved hand over her back, and even through the thick fabric she reacted to his touch with a pleasant tingling in her belly. So much for believing it was all her imagination.

  “I’m fine.” She sat up and adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses, giving him a phony smile.

  He furrowed his bushy white brows and then turned to lift a little girl onto his lap. “Hop right up here, young lady.” He stroked his long beard and asked, “What would you like Santa to bring you this Christmas?”

  “I’d like a bike and a cell phone and a…”

  He leaned toward Liza and murmured out the corner of his mouth. “You act mad. Is it because of Christmas?”

  “I told you it wasn’t.”

  “Is it because of what happened at the bar last night?”

  “Santa, are you listening?” The little girl tapped his shoulder, demanding attention.

  “Ho, ho, ho. Of course, Santa’s listening.” He concentrated on the little girl’s long list, nodding his head with each additional item.

  “Of course not…” Liza snarled into his other ear. “Why would that bother me? That’s a ridiculous thing to say.”

  “Seems like the only explanation to me,” he whispered back, keeping his eyes locked on the little girl. She finally finished her long list of demands and he put her firmly on the ground in front of Liza.

  “You should be nicer to Santa, you know,” the little girl said as she held out her hand to receive a treat.

  “Oh?” The box of candy fell to Liza’s lap.

  “Yeah. If you’re not nice to Santa he won’t give you what you want.”

  Tucker’s raucous laugh could be heard a block away as he pointed at the little girl with an exaggerated wink. “You are a very smart little girl.” He slapped a gloved hand on his knee and nudged Liza in the ribs. “Give her another candy cane, Mrs. Claus.”

  Satisfied her point was made and her extra treat received, the little girl ran across the street to her waiting parents. Tucker wiped the tears from his eyes, still laughing.

  “It wasn’t that funny.” Liza snapped the lid on the plastic box and crossed her leg, angling away from him as he struggled to get his laughter in check.

  “Think about it, Mrs. Claus.” He draped a flowing velvet sleeve across her shoulders and pressed his mouth against her ear. “If you just admit that kiss was damned good, I’ll give you what you want for Christmas.”

  The brush of his warm breath sent a quiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the fuzzy beard tickling her ear. His nearness was making it hard to stay grounded. It wasn’t right, but what she wanted more than anything right now was another kiss. What was the matter with her?

  “You couldn’t give me what I want anyway.” She shrugged his arm off her shoulder and turned her back to him.

  “Try me. What do you want?”

  No way would she confess she indeed wanted another kiss, nor could she tell him the second thing on her list—the castle. That, too, had to remain a secret, especially now that she knew she’d be competing against Bridges Enterprises. She couldn’t tolerate doubts or allow anyone to talk her out of it.

  “What I want you could never deliver.”

  “Don’t think it will fit in my sleigh?”

  She turned back around and caught his eyes twinkling, making him hard to resist. Maybe one more kiss, just to be sure she hadn’t imagined it last night.

  “It doesn’t require a sleigh.”

  “A special type of delivery then?”

  “Something like that.”

  She felt herself falling toward him as if pulled in by an invisible, magical force. She couldn’t kiss him again. What if she liked it? What if she wanted more? It would ruin—

  “Aren’t you two darling? You make the cutest Mr. and Mrs. Claus.” Virginia McNamara appeared out of nowhere, causing the box of candy canes to teeter on Liza’s lap.

  “Ho, ho, ho. Climb on Santa’s lap, young lady.” Virginia perched her hip on Tucker’s knee and gave him a big hug. “What can Santa bring you this year?”

  “Peace on earth?”

  “I’d have to check with the elves on that one.”

  “Good will toward men and women?”

  “Again, have to check with the head elf.”

  “How about simply you and Liza have a Merry Christmas? That’s enough.”

  Tucker shifted Virginia more securely on his knee and locked his white gloves around her waist. “I’m more than willing, but I’m not so sure about Mrs. Claus.” He cupped his hand around his mouth and pointed with his thumb toward Liza. “Not a fan of Christmas.”

  “Uh oh, is there a problem at the North Pole?” Virginia giggled and patted Tucker’s stocking cap. “How about I put up the ‘taking a break to feed the reindeer’ sign so you two can get a snack or a drink.”

  “That’s not necessary—” Liza began to protest.

  “Great idea. Thanks, Virginia.”

  Virginia hopped off his lap like a woman half her age and retrieved the sign out of the gingerbread house. “There. The sign says you’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Now go.”

  She went behind them, giving each a hearty shove in the back. “Go on.”

  He stood and held out his hand to Liza. “Come on. I’ll buy you a beer, Mrs. Claus.”

  A white cloud puffed out of her mouth as she folded her arms across her chest, bypassing his hand, and plowed ahead of him. He followed her down the block to the Misty Mountain beer truck, which had a line snaked into the street. Brody and Travis were manning the taps, too busy to notice them.

  “The line’s too long,” Tucker said as he grabbed her shoulders and steered her behind the truck.

  He dropped his hold on her and pulled his white beard below his chin. “Okay, you go first.”

  “Go first? What do you mean? Why me?”

  “Because you’re the one who’s pouting.”

  “I’m not pouting.” She spread her hands across the puckered skirt of her red velvet dress, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, feeling her lips do exactly that—pout. “Well, I guess…” She shook her head and cleared her throat as she tugged on her fur wrap. “I’ve been thinking…about last night.”

  “I thought that might be it.” He tucked his gloves into the large pocket on the front of his costume and glanced across her shoulder. “I guess we should talk about the kiss.”

  “I guess we should.” Her whole body began to shake from nerves. It was ridiculous. They had been friends for so long and never had a problem talking. Why did she suddenly feel so nervous?

  “It was…I was a little surprised.” He wouldn’t look at her. Instead, he scanned the crowd passing through the middle of town. She didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent while he worked out his thoughts. “I didn’t expect you to do what you did.”

  “Me?”

  “I wasn’t expecting you to kiss me like that.”

  “Well, you started it by coming behind the bar and kissing my hand in front of an audience. I just tried to be convincing.”

  “So, you were just laying it on thick for the crowd? Faking it?” Finally, he tore his gaze away from the crowd and looked directly at her.

  “Yes…of course. Weren’t you?” She squeezed and twisted the lacy cuffs in her hands, creating a tightly wound ball, leaving permanent wrinkles pressed into the fabric.

  “I did my part,” he said.

  “I think we convinced Diana. Don’t you?”

  “No doubt.”

  “So, I’m not sure what else to say.” It was all an act—just as it should’ve been. He didn’t feel anything more for her than friendship. They were only
friends and always would be. That was good. That was what she wanted. So why did she feel so disappointed?

  “Did you like it?” He slipped his fingers in the band of her apron, drawing her closer while he kept his hooded gaze on her lips. A lightning bolt surged through her nether regions.

  The moment of truth. The answer she’d been trying to deny. Yes, she liked it, more than she should have. This was Tucker—her brother’s friend—almost like another brother to her. She shouldn’t feel anything for him beyond admiration, kinship, or fondness. Yet, as they stood so close, discussing a kiss that she couldn’t shake, all she could think about was doing it again.

  “I, um, think…it was a great kiss,” she said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Considering it was for show. How did you feel about it?”

  “There’s no doubt about it—you’re a damn good kisser.”

  “It’s weird to say this, but you’re a good kisser, too.”

  “So…” His fingers slid back and forth under her apron band, creating a warm, inviting friction against her dress.

  “So, we keep faking it, right? Whatever it takes to keep me out of hot water.”

  His warm breath brushed her cheeks like a seductive caress as he leaned in close.

  “If you say so.” Tucker brought his face closer to hers, and her body arched forward like a magnet to steel. Just a breath apart, she wrapped her arms around his neck and smothered his lips, wanting more of his incredible mouth. Just as he wrapped her tight in his arms, the spell was broken.

  “Look, Mommy, Santa is kissing Mrs. Claus.” A tiny voice drew them back to reality. Even though they were behind a truck, they were still exposed to the crowd. Liza broke out of his arms and buried her face in his chest. Velvet tickled her nose as she muffled a laugh into his costume. He quickly pulled his beard back onto his face and straightened his coat.

  “Ho, ho, ho. You caught us, little girl.” Most of Tucker’s face was covered by the beard, but his cheeks burned red below his eyes.

  “But there’s not even any mistletoe.” The little girl looked up at Santa, bewildered by their actions.

  “There was, but I think Rudolph flew off with it.” He grabbed Liza’s hand and led her from behind the truck, patting the little girl on the head as they passed. “We’re going to go find it. Come on, Mrs. Claus.”

  TEN

  Liza took a sip of Misty Mountain’s holiday brew, Grinch Grog, and stole a glance through the glass wall behind the bar, hoping to find Tucker checking on the fermenting tanks. She’d arrived at the brewery’s holiday open house fifteen minutes ago expecting to find him greeting guests as they came in, but he had yet to make an appearance. Brody was acting as sole host, making sure everyone had a drink while answering their questions.

  “Hey, don’t you look gorgeous.” Kate came up beside her, laying her hand on her shoulder. J.B.’s cheek was pressed to Kate’s chest, fast asleep in his baby sling. “I love this dress.” She ran her hand down a lacy sleeve, admiring the black dress Liza had paid a fortune for.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll be glad when I can wear nice things again. There’s no point risking it with a drooling baby.”

  “It won’t be long.” J.B.’s cheek felt like warm satin as she glided her finger from his temple to his chin. “I like that you bring him everywhere. You don’t let a baby hold you back.”

  “Right now he’s very portable, so I’m not going to miss out on the holiday fun. Speaking of which, you’re not dressed in your Mrs. Claus costume.”

  “Since this isn’t a Chamber of Commerce event, we don’t have to play Santa and the missus. I’m here as Tucker’s date.” Liza flicked her fingers in air quotes and rolled her eyes. “Gotta keep up the ruse. Usually I pour beer behind the bar, so there are perks to being in a relationship.”

  It felt strange saying they were in a relationship, but with every kiss she felt them heading toward something more than friendship—and it scared her to death.

  “Have you seen him? I was supposed to meet him here.” Liza glanced over Kate’s shoulder as the door opened followed by a blast of cold air.

  “No, I haven’t. Maybe Brody’s seen him.”

  “I’ll ask him. See you later.”

  Liza walked toward the rough-hewn bar that lined the length of the tasting room. Brewing tanks stood behind the clear glass wall like enormous copper towers in a mini beer city. Two years ago, there were only two large vats, and now there were at least a dozen. Tucker had taken a hobby and turned it into a successful company. She hoped to have the same success with her gallery.

  The bank had approved her loan and she was officially mortgaged to the hilt. If she didn’t win the bid and make the gallery flourish, she’d have to take on a third job to pay her bills. She couldn’t live with herself if she lost the little house Granny had left to her. Rather than be haunted by her grandmother, she’d like to have her smiling down because of her accomplishments. This had to work or Liza might find herself homeless and sleeping on a friend’s couch.

  Brody looked up from the tap where he was filling a pint glass with frothy ale. “You look nice.”

  “Thanks. Have you seen Tucker?”

  “Probably still out back.” He scraped the excess foam with a flat paddle and handed it to Travis who was seated at the bar.

  “Out back?”

  “In the RV,” Travis said as he tipped the golden brew to his lips.

  “What do you mean? What RV?”

  “His home. His abode.” Confusion must have been written all over her face because Travis continued his synonyms. “His dwelling. His domicile.”

  “For God’s sake, Travis, what are you talking about?”

  “Tucker’s living in an RV behind the brewery.” Brody finally answered her question, but it wasn’t what she was expecting.

  “Why is he living in an RV? His house is less than a mile from here.”

  “Not anymore.” Travis tipped his forehead towards her, brows raised. “Now it’s less than thirty feet from here.” She didn’t appreciate his annoying chuckle or being in the dark. None of this was making sense. Tucker never said anything about living in a camper behind the brewery. Brody was too busy pouring beer and Travis was enjoying himself too much to get any real answers. She’d have to get them herself.

  She charged past the bar and into the back room, her four-inch heels tapping out a steady rhythm as she approached the back door. Surely this was a joke. There was no logical reason Tucker would live behind the brewery in an RV of all places. She pulled open the back door and stumbled onto the gravel behind the brewery. Sure enough, a small camper, circa 1970, was sitting beside the dumpsters and a tiny light glowed through the window.

  Heels and gravel were not a good combination, but she did her best to teeter over to the RV without twisting an ankle. She pounded her fist against the aluminum door and was shocked to find Tucker on the other side, dressed in a sleek charcoal suit and burgundy tie. His dark hair was styled off his forehead and his face cleanly shaven. He was so mouthwateringly handsome she almost forgot he was standing inside a trailer with his head just inches from the ceiling.

  “Tucker!”

  “I was just on my way over.” He stepped onto the top metal tread as she plastered her hands against his chest, giving him a firm shove backward.

  “What is going on?” She stomped up the three metal stairs and slammed the door closed behind her. “Why are you out here? Why is there a camper behind your building?”

  Turning slowly in a circle, she took in the tiny space, barely big enough for one person. His clothes were piled on an upholstered bench and his toiletries were laid out on a fold-down table. The bed, if it could be called that, had a narrow, thin mattress covered in rumpled sheets. When she let out a frustrated sigh, a puffy white cloud came from her mouth.

  “It’s freezing in here.”

  “Let’s get to the party where it’s warmer.” She shrugged off the hand he’d wrapped around her wr
ist and folded her arms.

  “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re living like a beatnik in a rundown RV with no heat in the middle of December behind the brewery when you have a perfectly lovely house less than one mile down that road and it only takes you three minutes to get to work so there is no way I’ll believe you moved here to save time on your commute.”

  “Would you believe I wanted to downsize?”

  “Tucker!” She stomped her foot knowing she must look like a petulant child, but she didn’t like his cheeky attitude. Obviously, Brody and Travis knew he was living back here. Tucker told her everything. Why hadn’t he told her he moved to this crappy, rundown trailer?

  “I sold my house.”

  “Why?”

  “I needed some cash.”

  “I thought the brewery was doing great. Why would you need cash? Does Brody know this? Of course, he does.” She picked up a pair of socks from the only chair in the place, tossed them on the bed, and sat down. Her legs could no longer hold her. “Does he know why you moved back here? Did you ask him to lend you some money? I just don’t unders—”

  “Listen.” He squatted in front of her, resting his hands on her knocking knees. “The brewery is fine. Brody is my partner and knows everything about our balance sheet. I’m planning a, um, an expansion and needed some cash, you know, so, um, to keep down lending costs. You understand?”

  “A few too many ums and lack of eye contact. What’s really going on?”

  “I told you. I plan to expand and need the down payment.”

  “When did you decide this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s no big deal. Besides, Abby has been looking for a house, so I sold it to her. It was getting crowded at Mom’s with her and the girls living there, and now they’ll have a place of their own when Zack gets back from Afghanistan.”

  It made sense that his sister and husband would want their own home once he returned, but did it have to be Tucker’s house? Couldn’t Brody have pitched in some cash to help with the expansion? And why were they expanding again? They just doubled production last year.

  Her jaw shook and her teeth chattered from the cold.