Page 39 of Wrapped Up in Christmas Hope
“Why, Ruby Jenkins, I do believe you’re blushing bright enough to give our position away,” Rosie teased, looking impressed.
Ruby put her hands over her cheeks.
“Fifty years of marriage and thinking of her first kiss still makes her blush,” Maybelle mused, smiling. “I remember my first kiss.”
“Way back in the Dark Ages?” Rosie teased, never missing a chance to rib Maybelle about her age. The two women had been going back and forth at each other for over five decades, and yet Ruby never doubted that they loved each other dearly. They all did. Theirs was a sisterhood that had withstood time and tribulations.
“Ooooh, he’s leaning!”
Leaning was good. Ruby had been beginning to think she was going to have to have a talk with him. Then again, she had no doubt her grandson was usually much more confident when he dated.
But Morgan was different.
Whether Andrew recognized that yet or not, Ruby and the Butterflies most certainly had noticed the looks passing between the couple. For all his dating, she’d certainly never seen Andrew look that way at anyone else.
When he looked at Morgan, his face shown with a protectiveness Ruby had never seen there, as if he’d take on the world to make it a better place for her. And, there was uncertainty, as well, that was just as unfamiliar on her brave, confident grandson’s face. The looks from Morgan were hesitant, and yet she seemed unable to resist stealing a look.
“Oh no! He just jumped back.”
“Did he trip over something?”
“What happened? Did she push him away?” Ruby asked, trying to get a better view through the window without being spotted.
“Shhh,” Maybelle ordered. “She’s bending down now. Greyson must have woken up and said something.”
Ruby let out a heartfelt sigh. “Kids have the darnedest timing.”
Feeling flustered, Andrew watched Morgan’s car pull out of the church parking lot and drive away.
He’d almost kissed her.
He’d wanted to kiss her.
She’d wanted him to kiss her.
But it was best that they hadn’t kissed. Amongst other reasons, that would have been difficult to explain to Greyson had he awakened to Andrew kissing his mother.
A gust of wind knocked into him, cutting through his clothes. His gaze dropped to the coat he held, but he didn’t bother putting it on, just headed back toward the church community room’s entrance.
He and the guys would help finish up anything the remaining Quilts of Valor volunteers needed from them, and then they would head back to the fire hall.
Warm air engulfed him as he stepped back into the building. Just as he got fully inside and the door behind him had closed, a door to his right opened, and four Butterflies fluttered into the room in a rush.
Four Butterflies with guilty eyes. What had they been up to?
“Grandma?”
“Hello, Andrew,” she said all innocent-like, letting him know they’d definitely been up to something. “Morgan and Greyson gone?”
Nodding, Andrew eyed the women. Looking over at the room they’d exited, thinking of where those windows faced, he realized that he had a pretty good idea of exactly what they were guilty of. “Where were y’all?”
The women exchanged looks, then Maybelle said, “We took a quick break to calm this one down.” She pointed to Rosie. “The closer we get to her wedding, the more and more skittish she gets.”
Why had Morgan’s grandmother just covered her mouth? Was she trying to keep him from seeing her smirk?
“You needed to go somewhere private to discuss Rosie’s upcoming wedding?” he asked.
“I can’t have anyone overhearing about the surprises I have in store for my big day,” Rosie retorted, following Maybelle’s lead.
