Bride Under the Mistletoe: The Magic of a Family Christmas. SUSAN MEIERЧитать онлайн книгу.
and no one could hear, she took her voice down to a whisper. “Last Friday night, he tried to kiss me and—”
Both Emma and Patty’s eyes widened.
“—then we had a bit of a disagreement about money. I more or less accused him of trying to buy me.”
This time their mouths fell open.
“Girl, when you decide to have a life you pull out all the stops.”
“No kidding. The problem is he’s a really great guy. And I’m afraid he’s never going to speak to me again because—well, I’m an idiot. I keep taking everything he says and does the wrong way.” She shook her head. “But I think he’s wrong about a few things, too. He says we’re not good for each other because he doesn’t want to settle down, but I’m not so sure I want to settle down either right now.”
Patty gasped. “You want a fling?”
“Maybe.”
“So,” Emma said, leaning closer, her eyes bright with excitement, her voice a low whisper. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I know,” Patty said, grabbing Wendy’s hand to make sure she paid attention. “You’re going to really listen when he talks, stop jumping to conclusions and stop comparing him to Greg.”
Wendy winced. “You figured that out.”
“Yes.”
Patty glanced at the clock on the wall. “Two minutes to get to the wheel.” She sighed. “If we had more time I’d give you real advice, because I saw the way he looked at you. For now, just listen—really listen—to what he’s saying and take your cue from that. For God’s sake, don’t push him, but don’t miss the obvious.”
Deciding that was probably the best course of action, Wendy headed for her office. When she arrived, Cullen was rifling through the file cabinets in front of her desk.
“Good morning.”
Without looking away from the files, he said, “Good morning. So, how was Harry this morning?”
Normal conversation. Thank God. This she could handle. “He was great. Happy as a clam. I reminded him to ignore Freddie, and he grinned.”
Cullen shook his head with a chuckle. “Kids. They’re very resilient.”
“I have a feeling Harry has spent a lot of his life accepting things he couldn’t change.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He paused a second then said, “Are you busy today?”
“Just the usual. But my job title is assistant to the president, so if you need me to do something, your work comes first.”
He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “I don’t really have work for you to do. Actually, I have nothing on my calendar today for myself.” He caught her gaze. “So I thought maybe you’d come out with me this afternoon and help me choose a gift for Harry for Christmas.” He paused. “The kid’s had it so rough the past few months that I want to buy him a great gift. Something that makes him feel special.” He paused. “That is, if it’s okay with you.”
She nearly cursed herself for being such a hard case that he worried it might not be okay for him to buy Harry something for Christmas. “Of course you can buy him a gift!”
“And you’ll help me?”
This was her perfect opportunity to fix the mistakes she kept making with him. Away from the office, away from Harry, they could simply be themselves.
“Sure. I’d love to go shopping.”
“I understand there’s a mall—”
Before she nodded in agreement, a thought struck her. She wasn’t the only one who had made some mistakes about Cullen. The employees had been gossiping ever since he arrived and most of what they’d said had been way off base. When they got their big raises in January, she wanted the people in the town to realize Cullen had been the one who saw the problem and rectified it. Since job confidentiality precluded her from telling anyone he, not Mr. McCoy, had instigated the raises, the best way to help everyone figure it out for themselves would be to get him out among the townspeople. Soon they’d see him for the nice guy he was and know he’d been their benefactor.
“The mall’s too impersonal. We should stay in town. There are a few small shops that have some interesting gifts.” She slid onto her desk chair. “You’re very important to Harry. A gift from you should reflect that.”
“I was going to get a dump truck.”
She laughed. “You can buy him a dump truck. But let’s look around town. See what else might strike your fancy.”
He pulled in a breath. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
He turned to go into his office, but she had a second, even better idea. “We could have lunch at the diner first. Kill two birds with one stone.”
He faced her with a scowl. “I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“I usually go back to my hotel—”
“Really?” She swallowed back the surprise of that and added, “That’s quite a drive for lunch. Let me introduce you to the ladies at the diner. They’ll take care of you. Then you won’t have to go so far every day.”
Cullen was suspicious of Wendy’s they’ll take care of you claim until they stepped into the diner. In the years he’d been out of town, it hadn’t changed one iota. Heavy-duty floor tiles in pale brown were flecked with enough colors that they didn’t show the dirt from the foot traffic. Chocolate-brown stools rimmed a beige counter. Booths of the same chocolate color lined three of the walls. Tables filled in the center space.
But what he’d missed most in the years he’d been away, without even realizing he was missing it, was the smell. The scents of chicken, pie, French fries, hamburgers, butter and cinnamon mixed and mingled and wafted through the seating area.
Waitresses in pink uniforms dashed from table to table and into the kitchen. Dodie, the same cashier/hostess who’d manned the cash register when he and his parents had come here to eat on special occasions still stood behind the counter, her pink uniform stretched around her round tummy.
“Well, as I live and breathe! Cullen Barrington.”
“I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”
Dodie batted a hand. “Handsome devil like you? Are you kidding?”
He laughed.
She grinned, but her smile quickly faded. “I heard about your mom. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“How’s your old man?”
“He’s fine. The warm weather agrees with him.”
“Warm weather agrees with all of us.” She peered at Wendy. “And don’t think I don’t see you standing there, missy. How’s that new boy of yours?”
Wendy laughed. “He’s great.”
“You’re going to make him a wonderful mother. You don’t let social services push you around.”
Wendy shook her head. Dodie knew everything. “I won’t.”
“Good. Find yourselves a seat. I’ll send Mercy over to get your orders.”
At the booth, Cullen helped Wendy with her coat and hung it on the hook at the end of the booth along with his topcoat. She slid onto one side, he slid onto the other.
Taking a menu from the holder behind the salt and pepper, she said, “I didn’t realize you knew Dodie.”
He