“Hey.” The quiet, rumbled word was nice, especially from a man more known for nodding than talking.
Hazel eyes just a shade greener than she remembered gazed down at her over his own coffee. Normally clean shaven, Rick Harding must have slept in late that morning, because the light stubble on his face was as unusual for the pool hall owner as it was attractive.
There had been a time when Lana had considered Rick somewhat average. Average height, somewhat larger than average muscular build, with a strong jaw on a pleasantly attractive face.
Then he’d come to her rescue the previous summer, after some disgruntled and inebriated townsfolk had taken her to task for announcing the condominium project. Someone had caused her to deliberately fall, hurting her arm. After helping her off the ground, Rick had promptly punched the lights out of the man who tripped her.
There were many people in Lana’s life, but very few heroes.
“It’s really good to see you again,” Lana told him sincerely.
“I didn’t realize you were back in town,” Rick admitted in his low, rich voice.
She’d never been able to decide if he was quiet or shy, or maybe both. But the fact that he’d noticed she was gone somehow warmed her far more than the coffee cups she was balancing.
“I had to meet with my general contractor. We start construction soon.”
Rick nodded, shifting on his feet and glancing down at the coffee in his hands.
Lana liked how his hands were strong, and how his fingers—calloused from work—wrapped around his coffee cup. She liked his broad shoulders and the way his jeans were worn from use, not styled to look that way. The flannel-lined hoodie he wore reminded her of the woods, and being warm, and Christmas time. Back when she was young enough to believe Christmas was reindeers and mistletoe and lists to Santa, not emotionally charged dinners with an extended family more interested in profit margins and expensive cocktails than truly enjoying each other’s company.
They hesitated, an awkward moment where Lana wasn’t sure what to say and Rick stood there saying nothing. Then of course they spoke at the exact same time.
“Are you—?”
“Do you—?”
A flush reddened his face beneath the scruffy beard. “Sorry,” Rick mumbled. “You first.”
He looked so cute, shifting on his feet.
“I was just going to ask if you’re ready for Christmas. The presents, the tree, all of that stuff.”
A soft snort was his answer. “It’s not really my holiday,” Rick admitted. “Are you staying around?”
He sounded almost hopeful. Lana wasn’t a blusher, but something about the way he was looking at her made her cheeks heat. “I was hoping to.”
A loud clearing of a throat pulled their attention to the stage, and the tired-looking officer standing on it. Jonah wasn’t the mayor—as far as Lana was aware, there was no mayor—and the members of the town council all collectively slouched in their seats, refusing to meet Jonah’s eye. Which left their poor overworked police officer to deal with running the meeting alone, like he dealt with protecting the town alone. Jonah was going to need some backup if her condominiums brought more residents permanently to Moose Springs.
“More police,” Lana murmured to herself.
“You don’t like Jonah?” Rick asked, glancing at the officer curiously.
“Actually, I like him a lot,” Lana admitted. “I’d like him even more if he wasn’t stretched thin enough to see through. I’m hoping to talk the new mayor into giving him a little help.”
“We don’t have a mayor.” Rick’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“I suppose I could always run.”
She’d meant it as a joke, but the look of horror on his face almost managed to hurt her feelings. Then abruptly he chuckled.
“You’d be good at it.” Those greener-than-normal hazel eyes crinkled with amusement. “Better than I was.”
Hmmm. Why was it a compliment from him felt like a warm brownie and a mug of hot tea in front of a fireplace? Then suddenly what Rick had said registered.
“Wait, you were mayor?” Too bad Rick wasn’t the mayor now. Lana could only imagine how much easier her life would be.
“Only for a month, a few years back. We all took a turn, and none of us wanted anything to do with it. This town is a pain in the ass.”
Lana couldn’t help her laugh.
“L, you can flirt later,” Graham called from their seats on the other side of the barn. “Rick, be careful, buddy. She’s a piranha in sheep’s clothing.”
“Pariah, dearest,” Lana joked back.
She turned back to Rick and saw a deeper flush had reddened his face. Rick opened his mouth, as if to continue the conversation like a normal human being, then promptly shut it again. He glanced down at his coffee cup, clearing his throat.
Lana knew she made him nervous, and while it wasn’t a first for her, she wished that Rick found her more approachable. It was nice having someone to talk to. Feeling as if perhaps she’d overstayed her welcome, Lana took an awkward step back.
“Well, I better take my seat.”
“Do you need help?” Rick started to ask as she turned, juggling her off-balance coffees, but his helping hands only jostled them more. “Oh, sorry.”
He cursed when the closest coffee spilled on the sleeve of her coat. The poor man grabbed some napkins from the table, dabbing them at her arm while pouring coffee all over his own hand in the process. The only way to save him from more scalding was to take another step back.
“Thick jacket,” she promised, trying to ease his discomfort with a smile. “Did you burn yourself?”
“Naw,” Rick mumbled, still holding his handful of coffee-soaked napkins. “I have thick arms. Skin. Arm skin. Damn, I don’t even know what I’m saying. Are you sure I didn’t burn you?”
“I promise.”
He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment. Since Rick had saved her once, Lana was happy to save him in return, even if it meant denying herself his company.
Still, she couldn’t help giving him a flirty wink. “I’ll see you later, Rick.”