His Holiday Heart by Jillian Hart

swallowed hard, not knowing what to do. Denial was useless. He had a crush on Lucy. No amount of defensiveness was going to stop it.
    “I have got everything under control.” She shouted to be heard over the rumbling backfire of the blower. “Just before I came out here, I assured everyone that we are not together. If I ever decide to fall in love, it will be with a warm, friendly, emotionally open man.”
    He broke into laughter. “Did they believe you?”
    “It’s a possibility. No one argued with me.”
    “No, how could they? I’m not a warm, friendly, emotionally open kind of guy.” He grinned. “Thanks for telling me. Now I can enjoy my Thanksgiving meal without all this worrying about what my sisters are going to pull next.”
    “You have always been safe from me, Spence. You know that, don’t you?” She tossed the scoop, and it landed with a plop in the deicer bag. “I’m not on the hunt for a husband.”
    “I thought all unmarried women were.”
    “Then I’m the exception to the rule.” She watched his shoulders visibly relax. Poor Spence. He believed that. He must have a poor opinion of women and marriage. “When I decide to hunt for a husband, I’ll set my sights on a quality man.”
    “Are you suggesting I’m not?” He was grinning wide enough to show that hint of a dimple again.
    She forgot to feel uncomfortable around him when he smiled like that. “I’m just saying that I’m not looking right now. But as far as quality goes, you’re a good man, Spence. You shouldn’t work so hard to hide it.”
    “You’ve got me all wrong, Lucy.” His grin disappeared right along with his dimples, but a crinkle of amusement remained in the corners of his midnight-blue eyes. “I’m cold, unfriendly, emotionally closed and proud of it.”
    “Saying it won’t make it true.”
    “Sure it will. You have to think positive.” He tossed her a wink before he strolled off, pushing the whining snow blower.
    Why was she laughing? She didn’t actually like Spence, did she? She watched him power the machine down the sidewalk toward the deep accumulation of snow at the property line. Snow sprayed in a stream from the mouth of the blower and beat against the snow-covered shrubbery, obscuring Spence from her sight but not from her thoughts.
    He was definitely a quality man. Spence hadn’t just done the neighbor’s sidewalk but had moved on down the block, clearing as he went.
    There was nothing he could do to hide all his goodness. It was his personality that was the problem. She wrapped her arms around her middle, shivered and hurried back inside the warm house where she had friends waiting.

Chapter Five
    “D o you want some peas, Lucy?”
    She put her butter knife on the plate and recognized trouble twinkling in Mary Whitman’s eyes. The older lady was hopeful. It was a look mirrored on the faces of all the people seated around the lovely dining-room table. Lucy nudged the handprint turkey crafted by Tyler in his kindergarten class to make room for the bowl of rolls.
    “Thanks, Mary.” She took the bowl from the well-meaning grandmother. Clearly, the whole family thought she was Spence’s only hope, and they weren’t taking no for an answer.
    She spooned baby peas swimming in butter sauce onto her crowded plate. She really had told the truth. If she ever found a man to love again, it had to be a guy whose heart was wide open, who could genuinely be in love with her. She wanted true love. She wrote about it. She believed in it. She intended to settle for nothing less.
    “It’s so nice to have you here, Lucy,” Mary said. “Are you a good cook?”
    Oh, she knew exactly where Mary was heading. She was assessing wife skills. Lucy put the spoon back into the bowl. “Do you know what I’m good at in the kitchen? The microwave.”
    On her other side, Spence gave a disapproving huff. The family burst out in laughter.
    “You are too funny, Lucy,” Katherine said from the other side of the table.