“Cliff saved my life last year when my outlet started smoking. If it wasn’t for him, I might not be here to celebrate with you all.”
Shoot. The look she gave him was enough to make him feel like Superman. He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable under the heavy praise and adoring look she sent his way. “It was an easy fix.”
“Yeah—for you.” She leaned into him. Despite the heavy layers of clothing between them, he grew warmer at her closeness. She faced her mom. “Are you going to let us in, or do we have to sleep in the car?” Her tone was teasing, but there was a challenge to it too.It said, I came with this guy. If you don’t take him, you don’t get me.
He wanted to wrap his arm around her and hold her close, grateful for the show of loyalty.
“Of course.” Mrs. Dalagar stepped back and opened the door wide. She obviously knew she’d been beaten in this little battle of wills. Saving her daughter’s life was enough to get him in the door. For a moment, he wondered what he’d have to do to get into her good graces.
He could start by remembering his manners. He wasn’t always a grumpy, grungy Grinch. He offered his hand as he entered. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Dalagar.”
She glanced at his hand before taking it for a brief moment and dropping it just as quick. “Your bedroom is downstairs.” Her voice was authoritative. “Diana will be sleeping up here.”
He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. Had she thought he was planning on sharing a room with Diana? Another thought flittered through on the tail of that one—had Diana thought they’d share a room? He turned to her with large, questioning eyes. She shook her head slightly, telling him not to make a big deal about it.
“What’s on the agenda tonight?” Diana asked as she removed her winter gear and began hanging it on one of the fifty hooks in the front entryway. The room was already overloaded with enough snow gear to outfit a small village.
Cliff slowly unbuttoned his coat as he listened to the women talk.
“We had an early dinner. If you’d like leftovers, they’re in the fridge. Around eight is the hot chocolate welcome social—don’t be late. You’re on marshmallow duty for the first hour; then Celine is supposed to take over after that.” Mrs. Dalagar brushed her palms together. “Your father will want to meet your visitor.”
Cliff glanced at Diana. She sucked in a quick breath. “No need to make a fuss. We should get settled. Cliff? Can you carry my bag to my room?” she asked sweetly. Too sweetly. There was something up, though he had no idea what. Her mother’s frosty reception didn’t gel with Diana’s open personality. Perhaps her father was the free-spirited kind. “You can leave yours here, and we’ll grab it on our way downstairs in a minute.”
“Sure.” He picked up her bag. She took his hand and began dragging him down the hall.
“Be quick!” called Mrs. Dalagar. “No dawdling behind closed doors.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see her lips pressed together and her brow lowered as she glared at their entwined hands. He held tighter, a part of him wanting to ruffle feathers.
The hallway was long and wide with family pictures on the walls. He wanted to stop and find Diana’s smiling face in them, but she dragged him along. He liked the warmth of her small hand in his. Though it was only a friendly gesture on her part, the lightning racing through his veins said that it was more for him. He had a physical reaction to her touch—which meant that a part of him was interested in more than her friendship. The thought sent him reeling. He hadn’t been open to a woman in a long time.
And he wasn’t about to start now. “I think your mom thinks we’re—uh—more than neighbors,” he whispered. He dropped her hand as she shoved a door open with her hip and pulled him inside, then shut it tightly behind them.
“What makes you say that?” She glanced around as if making sure everything was the way she’d left it.
“She was ready to claw my eyes out.” He ran his hand down his face, more worried about the way his body had reacted to Diana in the last ten minutes than he was about her mom shooing him out the door with a broom.
Diana grimaced. “I’m sorry about that. She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”
He swallowed. The walls were covered in buttercream paint, and the carpet was a lush green. The curtains and bedspread had ruffles. He’d been in Diana’s apartment many times, but he’d never gone into her bedroom. Not once. Bedrooms were personal space in his house growing up. You had to knock and ask permission to enter. Diana’s room had girly touches here and there. The pillowcases matched the bedspread. There was jewelry on the desk. He sniffed and was met with her lovely vanilla perfume. His brain went fuzzy at the smell.
“You look like you’re going to pass out.” Diana put her hands on his back and pushed him deeper into the room. “Sit down for a minute.”
He glanced around quickly for a chair or a bench, but the only space to sit was on the bed. Some gentlemanly part of him refused to lounge on a single woman’s bed. It just wasn’t done. His mother would have a conniption fit. He spun around, ending up behind her. “Can you just show me to my room?” he said gruffly.
Turning around, she pulled her eyebrows down. “Did I do something wrong?”
He dragged his palm down his cheek. She really had no idea how adorable she was or what kind of effect she had on men. He needed to clue her in on things without sounding like the type of guy who would creep up here in the middle of the night to watch her sleep. “That depends. Are you in the habit of shoving men onto your bed?”
She blanched. “I wasn’t—I mean—No.” She lifted her chin, indignant, and shoved his chest with both hands. “No!”
Her push didn’t even sway him. He grinned. “You’re cute when you’re upset.” Immediately, he regretted saying those words. He shouldn’t call her cute—for any reason. He should run for his room. Diana was much too sweet for the likes of him, and he’d do well to remember that.
She scowled.
He opened the door, enjoying the burst of cool air from the hallway. “Come on, before your mom thinks you’re taking advantage of me.”
Her mouth fell open, and then she brightened considerably, as if the idea was as agreeable as sprinkles on ice cream. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. She was too beautiful for her own good. If he were any less of a gentleman, he would have kissed her.
