Page 53 of Wrapped Up in Christmas Hope
“I don’t sing.”
“Don’t or can’t?”
“She can sing,” Greyson piped up, sounding proud. “She sings to me when I can’t sleep.”
“Oh?” Andrew cut his gaze toward her for a brief second. “Tell me more. What does she sing?”
“Lately? Christmas songs,” she admitted.
“Know any Elvis?” Andrew asked.
“Elvis Christmas songs? Like the ones you played at the nursing home?” He’d had a great voice and the residents had loved singing along.
Andrew nodded. “Elvis is Grandma Ruby’s favorite. My whole life, she always plays a Christmas album and we sing along to it while decorating for the holiday. She still listens to that old thirty-three speed despite the fact that I set her up to just tell her virtual player to play her music for her.”
“If you’re wanting to sing Elvis, I could find some on my phone,” Morgan offered, smiling and thinking part of her understood why Ruby played her album.
“Really?” he grinned. “That would be awesome. Elvis is my man.”
“Who’s Elvis?” Greyson piped up from the truck’s back seat.
Morgan and Andrew exchanged a quick look.
“Hurry and find that music,” Andrew ordered. “The kid doesn’t know who the King of Rock and Roll is, and we’re about to enlighten him.”
“Snow!” Greyson exclaimed, staring out the window of the truck as they drove up the mountain. Big puffs of white danced around them.
“Should we pull over so you can touch it?”
Morgan glanced toward Andrew, amazed that he’d be willing to pull the truck and trailer over to allow Greyson to do something as simple as touch snow. The man’s patience with her son was epic.
His patience with her was pretty epic, too.
Because no matter how she wanted to hold out on having feelings for him, no matter how much she knew she shouldn’t...she did. Every moment spent with him saw those feelings blossoming into something that was getting more and more difficult to label as just friendship.
How could she not fall for him when he’d belted out Elvis at the top of his lungs, even after listening to the same song several times so Greyson could learn the words to sing along, too? She’d laughed until tears ran down her cheeks when Andrew had howled on “Hound Dog” and Greyson kept trying to, as well.
“I don’t think we need to stop now,” she told Andrew. “We’re only about twenty minutes from the Christmas Village. While you check over the reindeer, Greyson and I can play in the snow.” Though what he’d be checking for, she didn’t know. Maybe they should have brought a veterinarian with them to be sure they weren’t getting dud reindeer?
“I want to see the reindeer, too,” her son said from the back seat.
“We should have plenty of time for you to do both,” Andrew said. “But your mom is right. We’re close enough that it doesn’t make logical sense to stop prior to getting there.”
Logical sense. Because she was a logical kind of girl. One who didn’t do silly things like pull over on the side of the road to play in the snow. Ugh. She was back to being a fuddy-duddy.
“Do you think there will be enough snow for us to build a snowman?” Greyson asked, leaning toward the window as far as his car seat would allow.
Not taking his eyes off the road, Andrew shrugged. “There might be. When I talked to Frank, the owner, earlier, he said they had a light snow and were expecting more. Main thing is for us to be off the mountain before dark, since I’m pulling the trailer.”
Morgan glanced toward him. She hadn’t really thought about the difficulty of driving with the long trailer they were hauling. After all, Andrew was used to driving the fire engine, and he seemed to be a pro at handling the truck and trailer. “Would it be dangerous if we’re not?”
He shook his head. “We’ll be fine. They’re not expecting that much snow and the owner assured me the roads are good. But I don’t want to take any chances once we’re off the main highway, either. I’m hauling precious cargo.”
“Yeah, finding more reindeer might be impossible.”
“I meant you and Greyson.”
“Oh.” Why did his comment fill her with warmth? “Thank you.”
