Page 24 of Wrapped Up in Christmas Hope
She shook her head again, but something in the way she looked at him made him think she had. Plus, while she wasn’t smiling, her lips were twitching as if she wanted to.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you about going too long in between seeing me. It’s hazardous to your health.”
“Is that like a black label warning? A cautionary tale?” Now her eyes were sparkling with humor. “If so, maybe it should say to avoid at all costs.”
“Nah,” he countered. “I’m harmless.”
“That’s doubtful.”
“Guess that depends upon who you ask.” He laughed. “Where’s Greyson? If I’m going to have to take all this abuse, I want him around to defend me.”
Not that he bought that Morgan didn’t like him. She did. She just didn’t want to.
“He’s with Isabelle. They’ll be here a little later.”
“Good to know. I wanted to ask how his entry for the coloring contest is going. He told me at the fire hall that he hadn’t started it yet.”
“He still hasn’t. He says he’s still thinking about how he wants to decorate it.” Morgan’s eyes lit up as she talked about her son. Then she gave him a wry look. “I imagine once he sees you’re here he’s going to want to be right beside you. You’ll be happy to know he had me print out the photo of you two.” She shook her head as if she didn’t get why Greyson had wanted that. “His hero worship is still in full force. If he gets in your way, let me know. I don’t want him to be a nuisance to you.”
Why did it make him feel so good to know Greyson liked him? That the kid had felt the connection between them? That he might be able to make a positive difference in the kid’s life?
“He may not have any time for me today with Harry here,” Andrew mused. “But, if he does, he won’t be in my way. I’m glad I’ll get to see him today.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Morgan.” He glanced around the room at the sewing machines set up, the stacks of precut material, the ironing boards, and cutting boards ready to go if they needed more material. Hopefully, before day’s end, they’d have several quilt tops made, sandwiched, and ready to be machine-quilted at Sophie and her sister’s sewing shop.
“Sophie’s been busy,” he said.
“Yes, she and some others have been meeting at The Threaded Needle to make sure we had everything prepared for today. I’ve helped, but not as much as I’d like to.”
“You’re a seamstress?”
Morgan snorted “That’s a joke. I couldn’t sew a straight line if my life depended upon it, but not because my Grammy Claudia didn’t try to teach me. I’m assigned to kitchen duties and ironing. You?”
“Eye candy,” he said with a straight face, hoping to get another glimmer of a smile from her. “It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”
Morgan snickered, making Andrew’s insides warm. She did need his friendship even if she didn’t realize it.
“Oh! I need to go help Rosie.” She pointed to where Rosie was coming in and carrying what appeared to be a heavy box. Morgan took a step in her direction, then paused to meet his eyes. “Um, bye, although I guess we’ll be seeing each other for however long you’re here.”
“You’re going to get your quota of me today.” At least, Andrew hoped no calls came in so he and the guys could volunteer for the full event. “And I’ll go help Rosie get her things.”
Together they met a flustered Rosie. It was surprising, since there usually wasn’t much of anything that could fluster her, outside of going through with her wedding. Andrew was more accustomed to seeing her vivacious and full of flirty life that was envious at any age. He smiled at his grandma’s dear friend.
“Hey, Rosie. Can I take that for you?”
The blue-haired woman shifted the box onto her hip, then held her hand out for him to take and kiss. Ah, there was the Rosie he knew and loved.
“Hello, Andrew, and yes, please do take this ole heavy thing.”
Andrew reached for the box, taking it from her and easily balancing it to one side, then eyed her hand. “Lou know about us?”
Obviously delighted at his comment, Rosie giggled. “Why do you think he’s trying to rush me down the aisle, dear boy?”
Andrew laughed, took her hand and gave a gentle squeeze rather than bringing it fully to his lips. “Where does this box go?”
“To the kitchen. I made goodies for snacks and Lou sent over a batch of his special chili, too. It’s still in my car if you want to be a dear and go grab it after you drop this off,” Rosie told him. When he headed to the kitchen and she thought he was out of hearing range, she told Morgan, “You should have called, honey child. I could have whipped up some of my grandmother’s cinnamon bread.”
