Page 41 of Promise Me This Christmas
She waited, hoping he’d provide details.But he didn’t.In every action, word, and look, Carson had given the impression that he still cared about her, so it was foolish to feel jealous.
And yet, somehow, she did.
Chapter Eleven
Carson wanted totell Larkin about the call he’d made last night after they’d said goodnight.But things were going so well.First those amazing kisses on the porch last night.Then the fun they’d had this morning.
He could feel their connection growing.Her trust in him returning.What if she disapproved of him contacting Andrew and arranging a meeting tonight?The last thing he wanted was to upset her.But he knew he couldn’t move on without confronting his former friend.
But not saying anything turned out to be a mistake too.He could feel her emotionally distancing herself from him as they walked the last few blocks.Her grip on his hand loosened and then fell away entirely.As they stomped the snow from their boots, he tried to catch her eye.To give her a private smile before they went inside.
But she wouldn’t let him.
Inside, the fire crackled in the sitting room.Marjorie and Peter, back from their walk, had already settled down for a game of cribbage.Peter smiled and Marjorie beckoned them closer.“Come play with us.”
“Later,” Larkin said.“I’m going to check on Gran and then work on my article.I’m almost finished the first draft.”
What had happened to sitting by the fire with a hot drink?Carson watched her disappear into the library, feeling helpless.He should have just told her the truth.But it was too late now, so he might as well change into dry clothes and get back to work on Ethel’s bathroom.
Before he could get there, though, he ran into Chet, who was trying to stuff a very wriggly Robin into his snowsuit.
“We’re going to story time at the library,” Chet said.“Assuming I wrangle this cowpoke into his gear.”
“Looks like a two-man job to me.You hold him, I’ll get his legs in the suit.”
It was easier said than done, however.Robin twisted and turned, churning his arms and his legs.“Dough!Dough!”
“He means ‘let me down,’” Chet translated.
“Yeah, I got that.”Carson had one leg in, but by the time he rounded up the second leg, Robin had already freed the first one.“Dang it, he’s harder to rope than a calf.”
From behind them came the gentle sound of laughter.Then Amy stepped forward, dangling Robin’s favorite fuzzy sloth.
“Hey, Robin, do you want your Wuzzy?”
Instantly Robin stilled as he focused on the toy in his mother’s hands.He reached out his arms, and in those seconds he was distracted, Carson got both legs in the suit, leaving Chet to slide in first one arm and then the second.
With a sigh of satisfaction—or was it relief?—Chet pulled up the long zipper, fully encasing his son in downy warmth.
“Seems I was wrong,” Carson noted.“That was a two-man, one-woman job.”
“Have fun at story time.”Amy kissed first her son, then her husband, before ushering them out the door.Once they were gone, she turned to him.
“Did you and Larkin have fun on the toboggan hill?”
Carson didn’t think the question was as innocent as it sounded, but he chose to take it at face value.“Yup.Lots of snow out there and more coming.”
Amy glanced around, then in a lower voice said, “Has Larkin talked to you about that article she’s writing for theCourier?”
“The one about Bramble House?”
She nodded.
“Only in passing.”He could see that Amy was worried and suddenly he understood why.“Are you afraid she’s going to mention that incident with the pot brownies?”
“Among other things.”Amy inhaled a deep breath.“It’s been a crazy week around here.I can’t remember when so much has gone wrong in such a short period of time.”
“Murphy’s Law?It’s Christmas, you want everything to be perfect, and so of course, nothing goes to plan.”
