Page 22 of Jam and Jingle Bells
“Did you forget something?” he asked, laying his hand at the small of my back. It got all tingly there, but I ignored it to focus on his question.
“No, except my manners. It never crossed my mind that you might want to stay and help Ivy with the decorating. I know you love Christmas.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. When he righted it again, his lips landed on mine for a short brush of flesh. “Thanks, but no thanks. I love Christmas, but that was something else entirely.”
I twined my fingers in his and started walking again. The snow was coming down harder with each passing minute and I wanted to get back to the salon. “You got that right. Ivy loves Christmas. I mean loves, loves, loves Christmas. Don’t worry, by morning Shep will have helped her pick and choose what to put up so it’s tasteful and not tacky, but without him, that place would look like a Christmas village on steroids.” I glanced up at the sky. “I didn’t think it was supposed to snow tonight.”
He shrugged. “Me either, but hey, it’s Michigan in almost December. What were you and Shep laughing about?” His voice was tinged with jealousy and I worked hard not to laugh.
“Dude, he’s married,” I said, shoulder bumping him as we walked.
“Doesn’t mean he’s dead,” he answered in kind.
“Shep has had eyes for no one but Ivy for over twenty years. You don’t need to worry. Actually, the reason we were laughing is just another reason for you not to worry.”
“She’s pregnant,” he answered before I could say it.
My mouth dropped agape and he laughed, closing it with his finger. “What? I work with a lot of pregnant women. I’ve seen that look before. It’s this underlying layer of exhaustion with a touch of green around the gills.”
“You’re spot on,” I chuckled. “She has suffered from morning sickness the last few weeks, but she said it’s starting to improve. Shep was telling me he had an asthma attack when she told him she was pregnant.”
“Wait, so you were laughing at a guy because he had an asthma attack?” He stopped and spun me toward him.
I laid my hand on his chest and noticed something hard under my palm. He must have something in his jacket pocket. “No, I was laughing because I would expect Shep to have an asthma attack when he found out he was going to be a dad.” He stood there, his mouth still open, his eyes still confused, and dare I say there was a hint of anger brewing in them. I blew out a breath. “Okay, that really sounds bad. I understand why you’re upset now.”
He lifted a brow and nodded. “I mean, I didn’t have you pegged as that kind of person, Addie.”
I kept hold of his hand and started the walk again. The breeze was blowing the snow into my face and I wanted to get inside. “I’m not that kind of person, and I’m irritated that you would think I was.” There was a touch of anger in my own voice. “I’ll explain when we’re inside and warm. That is if you want to come inside with a person like me.”
“Addie, I didn’t mean it that way.”
Unamused laughter fell from my lips while I unlocked the door. “Not sure what other way you could have meant it. Maybe, on second thought, you should head home before it gets too snowy.”
I pushed the door open and he came in behind me, shaking the snow off his head and grasping my arm lightly. “I’d rather you explained it to me. I promise not to judge you, again.”
I shook the snow off my coat and sighed. “Fine. Come on up.” I motioned him toward the stairs, and at the top, I unlocked the apartment door. I flipped the lights on for him and he set the pie on the table then hung his coat up. He stood there awkwardly and I couldn’t be mad at him, even if I was irritated. He heard what he heard and only I knew the rest of the story. I walked to him and untied his tie then flipped the top button open on his shirt.
“Sorry, you looked closed off and uncomfortable. Why don’t you grab a seat on the couch and I’ll get the pie?”
I brushed past him into the kitchen and he grabbed my arm. “I feel like I spend a lot of time apologizing to you, Addie, but I’m sorry. It came out all wrong.”
I offered a calm smile and nodded once. “It’s fine. You heard what you heard. I’ll explain since you’re new to Bells Pass. I can’t expect you to automatically know everyone’s history.”
“True, but I can try not to jump on things I don’t understand so quickly.”
“Fair enough.”
He wandered into the living room and sat on the couch, his head tipping one way and then the other as he stared at the wall opposite the couch. A TV hung there, almost the full length of the wall. When I carried the pie in, he pointed at it. “Big enough for you? We might be able to cut that beam out to get you a bigger one,” he said, tongue in cheek.
I sat and handed him a plate. “Thought about it,” I agreed as I took a bite of the pie and moaned in satisfaction. “Oh, man, that’s so good,” I hissed. “But it’s a load-bearing beam so I had to settle for the seventy-five incher. Sad, I know.”
“Heartbreaking,” he agreed.
“Saddest part is, I rarely have time to watch it.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Then why did you buy it?”
“I didn’t,” I explained, tucking my leg under me. “I won it at a raffle. Trust me, I’d never buy anything that obnoxious on purpose.”
