Tanya Michaels - Mistletoe Hero

He could hear the smile in her voice. “So, about lunch?”

A frigid, ice-cold shower sounded like a much better idea than sitting next to Arianne for the next forty minutes, trying to act as if he didn’t want to drag her off to bed while her brother watched from the other side of the table. “Um…”

Arianne covered his hand with hers. “Please, Gabe?”

He felt himself drowning in her eyes and didn’t mind. Who needed air? “All right. But I need to do something about the balls first.”

Arianne’s eyebrows shot up, and Gabe gave a strangled laugh. “For the pit. Remember? Big container people are going to walk into? The company delivered our supplies, and aside from the base, I don’t want to just leave everything out.”

“Of course.” Her face pinkened, and she busied herself with reclipping her hair. “I knew what you were talking about.”

“I need to get my toolbox, too.” Would all seven bags even fit in his truck? “We’re going to need a good-sized storage space to keep all the bags. Unless we want to divvy them up among us?”

Lilah shook her head. “No, even with the advance prep, next Saturday will be hectic. Keeping everything together will make it go more smoothly. We can store the balls in the guest room at my house. We only use it when we have-”

“Sweetheart?” Tanner called. “I didn’t see your keys.”

She turned with a guileless smile that made Gabe think she deserved an acting award. “Sorry about that, hon. They turned out to be in my pocket.”

Tanner narrowed his eyes, well aware that his wife wasn’t a ditz but not pressing her for a better explanation. “Well, I’m starving. Are we ready to go or what?”

“Just about,” Gabe said, standing. “Can you help me carry some bags to my truck? They aren’t too heavy, just cumbersome. Once we get those and my tools secured, we can go.”

“Anything to speed this along,” Tanner said affably, following Gabe toward the clearing that spilled out into the gravel lot.

“We’ll be along in just a second,” Lilah said, tossing a friendly arm around Arianne’s shoulders. It occurred to Gabe that he was about to be the topic of conversation. From years of habit, he bristled at the idea. He liked flying below the social radar. Then you should refrain from publicly mauling the daughter of a community pillar.

As he came around the corner of the library, Gabe noticed that his ladder was propped against the back of an antiques store opposite them. It had probably been returned from the front of the lot because the path between buildings was too narrow to maneuver well, thank God, or Gabe and Arianne-There was a split-second delay between seeing the fifteen-foot ladder and realizing that there was a kid climbing it.

Ben. The little boy who was afraid of heights.

Gabe’s instinct was to cross the lot at a run, but he didn’t want to startle the kid into falling. The ladder was merely resting there, not safely grounded on the uneven gravel for actual use. Cold fear gripped Gabe. He could break his neck.

He and Tanner exchanged stricken looks.

“Go get help,” Gabe instructed, not caring what form that help took as long as they got this kid down safely. Were there still firemen at the bingo tent, or had they gone to lunch? Did they have nets and safety equipment with them, or were they stored at the fire station?

He walked purposefully toward the kid, noticing as he went that the ladder was shaking. The little boy, who’d nearly reached the top, was crying.

“Ben?” Gabe called softly. “You’re okay, buddy.”

“No, I’m n-not. I’m afraid just I-like my br-br-”

They could address phobias and self-esteem and not climbing ladders unsupervised later. Right now,

Gabe needed to reach the kid before the whole damn thing fell over.

“Hold on.”

But the child wasn’t listening. His pitiful little howls were gathering strength, and Gabe heard Arianne’s sharp intake of breath behind him as Ben reflexively lifted a hand to wipe his nose. Gabe dived for the tilting ladder as it scraped against the side of the building. Ben shrieked.

Gabe didn’t have time to steady it, not with Ben’s shaky weight working against him. “Just let go, buddy. I’ll catch you.” Please, God, let his words be true.

Instead, Ben panicked and scrambled to get down, further upsetting the ladder. As it started to topple, he either decided to trust Gabe or just plain lost his grip. He smashed down into Gabe’s chest. Gabe staggered back, tightening his hold to keep the kid safe, barely able to register the discomfort in his rib cage before a much more powerful blow struck him across the skull.

Tanner tried to help him into a sitting position as Arianne pulled Ben into her waiting arms. There was a ringing so intense in Gabe’s ears that the sound nauseated him, but somewhere beyond it, he focused on Arianne’s low, soothing voice. He thought he heard her say that Lilah had gone to find Ben’s mom.

“Sh-she’ll be mad,” the boy fretted. “I was supposed to stay with Toby, but I wanted to prove I was brave. Like m-my daddy.” The last word ended on a wail that was like a machete to Gabe’s temple.

“Benjamin August Harris!”

Gabe’s stomach lurched. Must everyone yell? Suddenly Arianne appeared in the halo of his blurred vision.

“Are you all right? How many fingers am I holding up?”

He tried to focus on her hand. Eleven? That couldn’t be right. “Don’t worry. Hardheaded. Like you.” To prove his point and erase the fear pinching her face, he lurched to his feet.

And the world went temporarily dark.

GABE WAS OUT ONLY a moment, but apparently when you were dealing with women, that was more than enough time for them to conclude you had to go to the hospital.

“You blacked out!” Arianne said, blessedly keeping her voice soft despite her vehemence.

“Just stood too fast,” he mumbled. “Aspirin, bed, be fine.” Aspirin, a few hours rest and plenty of time in bed with her , he’d be even better. But he lacked the energy to invite her to kiss and make it better.

Meanwhile, Fawne Harris was gushing to the rapidly gathering crowd that Gabe had saved her son. Everyone parted to make way for the red truck. Tanner had taken Gabe’s keys and gone to get his vehicle so that he didn’t have to walk all the way between buildings and across lots to where he’d parked.

Tanner stepped out of the truck and tossed the keys to Arianne.

“You want Lilah and me to come with you?” her brother asked.

“I’ve got it from here,” Arianne said. She sounded almost like a protective mama bear.

It made Gabe smile, the crazy idea of the tiny woman shielding him from danger, but moving his facial muscles only added to the agony in his head. So he gave up arguing and let Lilah and Tanner help him into the passenger seat of his truck.

Once he was buckled, he told Arianne, “Never let a woman drive it before.”

“Don’t worry, David taught me to drive stick when I was still in high school. Close your eyes and leave the ride to me.”

Luckily, business in the E.R. was slow this afternoon, and the doctor saw Gabe pretty quickly. He asked him some questions and did a rudimentary exam before concluding, “MTBI.”

“What’s that?” Arianne asked, sounding alarmed. Gabe wanted to hug her, to reassure her that he was all right, but it was difficult to portray unharmed strength when the room tilted every time he moved.

“A concussion,” the doctor explained.

Well, duh. Gabe figured everyone who’d been in town square with them, right down to little Ben, could have made that diagnosis and spared him the extra stop at the hospital with all its painfully bright fluorescent lights overhead.