Page 31 of Wrapped Up in Christmas Hope
As if to add input, Morgan’s stomach growled. “Um, yeah, maybe I will get some soup. Every time I’d serve a bowl I’d think how wonderful it smelled. You made it, right?”
“Bodie and I did,” Sarah beamed. “It’s a Spicy Chicken Tortilla. We enjoy experimenting with easy recipes to serve our guests at Hamilton House. Cooking together can be such fun.” She gave a happy newlywed smile. “Be sure to let me know what you think.”
“You heard her,” Grammy Claudia said, beaming at Sarah’s suggestion. “Go eat, then get over there and see if Andrew has had better luck teaching your son to sew than I did you.” She laughed. “You remember that time I tried to get you to help me hem your Sunday School dress?”
Morgan didn’t, but she smiled at her grandmother.
“I’ve never seen a kid look as happy as you did to see your grandfather walk in and ask if you wanted to go fishing. You couldn’t get outdoors fast enough.”
“Sorry about that.” Because she did remember going fishing with her grandfather on several occasions during her holiday visits and looked forward to Greyson getting to make similar memories.
Grammy Claudia waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t be sorry. Differences in tastes and skills make our world go around. It just means that there’s someone for every task. I couldn’t do half the things you do, Morgan.” She turned her attention to Sarah. “Now, has Maybelle talked with you about these reindeer Rosie is insisting upon for her wedding? And what about these bridesmaid dresses she’s having us fitted for this week? Has she mentioned them to you?”
Smiling, Morgan went to the kitchen. She soon decided Sarah and Bodie’s Spicy Chicken Tortilla soup tasted even better than it had smelled as she stood in the doorway, eating and watching Greyson and Andrew.
“For a man who says he doesn’t want any of his own, he’s great with kids.”
Uh-oh. Here came another Butterfly matchmaking attempt. This time from Andrew’s grandma.
“It sure looks that way,” Morgan agreed, taking another bite of her soup as she braced herself for whatever Ruby had come over to say. “Greyson adores him.”
“It appears the feeling is mutual.” Ruby glanced her way. “How about you?”
She’d known Ruby seeking her out wasn’t coincidence, but Morgan still fought wincing. She gave Andrew’s grandmother a tight smile that she hoped conveyed that she wasn’t interested in having this conversation and particularly not with her. She finished off the last bite of soup, then tossed the plastic bowl in the nearby bin.
“Let’s go see how things are going with their sewing efforts,” she suggested, changing the subject. She knew Ruby meant well—they all did—but meaning well didn’t make her any happier about their interference.
“Yes. Let’s.” Ruby’s smile said she knew what Morgan was doing but was going to let her get away with it. This time. Butterflies were like that, choosing their battle strategies carefully.
She and Ruby came to stand just to the side of where Andrew had pulled a chair over next to Greyson’s. He leaned in and closely watched Greyson’s every move.
“Now, take your time, keep the material along the edge of the tape,” Andrew said patiently. “I’m going to work the peddle for now.”
Morgan wanted to hug him for that as the foot peddle was what controlled the pace at which the needle went up and down. He could keep the speed at a minimum and make sure it stayed consistent.
“Like this?” Greyson asked, gently gliding the material along the blue tape Andrew had apparently placed on the machine.
“Exactly like that. You’re a pro,” Andrew said. Ben and Cole had just come back inside, and Andrew called over, “Hey, Ben! Get over here and let this five-year-old show you how it’s done.”
“Say what? You showing me up, kid?” Ben teased, coming up behind them to stand next to Morgan and Ruby.
“Firefighter Andrew is a good teacher,” Greyson bragged, never taking his gaze away from where his fingers slowly pushed the material beneath the needle. “I bet if you asked nicely he could show you how to sew, too.”
“Yeah, Ben, you should ask nicely.” Andrew covered his mouth, probably to hide his laughter, but his gaze never left Greyson’s hands.
“I don’t know, kid,” Ben mused. “He tried earlier, and my seams didn’t look anything like yours. Either he was holding out on me or you’re just a natural.”
“He’s a natural.” Andrew sounded proud. “Kid’s got skills.”
Greyson beamed, sitting up straighter as he guided the material and looked happier than he had since...well, since the last time he’d been with Andrew.
Lord, everyone was right.
He was great with Greyson and her chest was doing silly things in response.
Perhaps sensing her gaze on him, Andrew turned for the briefest second, caught her watching him, and winked, his gaze then immediately returning to what Greyson was doing.
Morgan couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t sure if she’d forgotten how, or if the shock had made her physically incapable of pulling air into her chest. Either way, lack of oxygen had her head feeling woozy.
