“We need a place to play cards. The youngsters are bored. Since you two have the most space, we’re coming in.” He shoved the rest of the way through the door and was followed by two six-year-old boys. The first one carried an extra camp chair, and the second brought a folding table. “Boys, this is Cliff. Don’t tick him off or trip over his fishing line, or he’ll toss you out in the cold.”
They took him in with matching big brown eyes, wary.
“Stop!” Diana leaned forward in her chair. “Cliff is the nicest guy in the world.”
Cliff’s eyebrows went up. “I wouldn’t say that.”
She smacked his stomach. “You’re not helping. Johnny and Jimmy will never fish with us again if you tease them.”
He smiled easily at the kids, feeling more comfortable by the second because Diana got his humor. He took in the twins as they worked together to set up the table and chair. They were the best of friends and probably the worst of enemies at times—just like he and Asher had been.
His brother probably thought he’d turned into an abominable snowman. He thought back to all the times this year that Asher had tried to cheer him up and he’d refused to be cheered. That had to stop. He’d entrenched himself in grouchiness, but that wasn’t who he really was inside. Happiness shouldn’t be something he had to practice, but if he needed to, he’d schedule in regular workouts with Asher.
“Who goes first?” asked Jimmy.
“I will,” answered Uncle Tom.
The game started off slowly, but soon they were unloading cards and anxiously watching one another’s discard piles. Cliff kept an eye on both rods, but there wasn’t so much as a wiggle from either of them. He’d love a depth finder, and if he was invited back next year, he’d bring one. He paused for a second, remembering that he wasn’t supposed to be here next year. As far as these people would know, he’d be the long-lost boyfriend/fiancé. That was kind of depressing.
Diana chewed her lip as she watched the game unfold. She shuffled cards around in her hand, moving some to the back and others to the front depending on what a person played. “How do you like school?” she asked the boys.
“My teacher is not as fun as Jimmy’s.” Johnny sniffed and swiped at his nose. “They get extra recess and stuff.”
“Yeah, but you get more gym,” Johnny pointed out.
“Do you guys take lunch or eat school lunch?” She continued to pepper them with questions. She used her same, cheerful smile and can-do attitude to get them to open up. Cliff learned more about first grade at Lakeside Elementary than he would ever need to know.
He also got a look at Diana from a different perspective—one where he wasn’t the object of her attention—and he realized something. “You can’t help but be adorable, can you?” His hand reached up, moving without his permission, and he brushed his fingers down her jaw.
The temperature in the tent went up ten degrees. Diana flushed prettily, and his throat grew thick.
Uncle Tom cleared his throat. “Let’s keep it PG here, folks.”
Cliff dropped his hand and cleared his head, avoiding Diana’s questioning gaze. For a moment there, old dreams of being married and the desire to be part of a couple had surfaced. He could easily see Diana holding a baby, coaching a Little League team, or teaching a teenager to drive. She was the whole package.
And he had no right to think of her that way. They were friends—that was all she wanted from him. For a moment there, it had felt real. More real than the ice under his boots.
Chapter 11
Diana
Diana silently crept down the long hallway in her double-sock-covered feet during Christmas Eve nap time. The whole house was on quiet hour, so those who had gone fishing could catch a wink and the babies could sleep without being interrupted. Something bothered her, and she couldn’t rest until she talked to Cliff about it.
She slowly stretched her leg over the creaky board and then continued on toward the stairs. She glanced both directions before riding the banister to the bottom.
Cliff’s room was across the billiard room and to the right. She tapped lightly on the door, leaning her ear against it to listen for an answer. When he didn’t respond, she twisted the handle and snuck inside, closing it quickly behind her. The woodsy delicious scent of men’s soap hit her first and made butterflies stand at attention.
Cliff was tucked under the blankets, one arm thrown above his head. He wore a white tee shirt, and his face was peaceful in slumber. He was so handsome lying there. Her hand went to her jaw, where his fingers had drawn a line that morning, making her shiver in the most scrumptious way.
That shiver was why she’d snuck into his room. “Cliff,” she whispered.
He murmured and adjusted but didn’t wake up.
She scowled. “Cliff.” She sat on the bed by his leg.
He blinked awake and then dropped his eyes shut. “What, woman?”
She couldn’t help but giggle. He was so funny when he was grumpy. “Uncle Tom got me thinking.”
