A Snowglobe Christmas: Yuletide Homecoming / A Family's Christmas Wish. Lissa Manley
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу A Snowglobe Christmas: Yuletide Homecoming / A Family's Christmas Wish - Lissa Manley страница 5
Название: A Snowglobe Christmas: Yuletide Homecoming / A Family's Christmas Wish
Автор: Lissa Manley
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472000996
isbn:
“That’s a fact. So, how is she?”
Rafe let a beat pass while he thought about how to answer. Amy, in her jaunty knit beret with her warm smile and her voice breathy and excited, had stolen his senses the moment she’d sailed into The Snowglobe Gift Shoppe arm-in-arm with her mother. He’d had a minute to compose himself, to pretend he hadn’t thought about her every day for the past five years, but her effect lingered with him still.
She looked the same with shaggy blond hair that flew around her face in wisps and honey-brown eyes she considered too small and plain for beauty. She was wrong about that. Amy sparkled.
He’d known she was coming home, had even prepared himself to see her again. At least he’d thought so.
“She’s home to take over The Snowglobe Gift Shoppe,” he said, pleased at how light and normal his voice sounded. “Dana told me.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“How do I feel?” Rafe made a rude noise. “You sound like a psychiatrist. How I feel about anything doesn’t mean squat.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell it to someone who doesn’t know better.” Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “I was there, dude. Remember?”
Rafe kept his head down, sorting rental receipts into neat stacks. “Ancient history.”
“She broke your heart.”
“I broke hers.” Amy had wanted to get married before he left for the military. He’d wanted to wait. He was still fuzzy on the particulars but at some point, they’d fought until she’d handed him his ring.
“Reciprocal stupidity if you ask me.”
“I didn’t. We made the right decision.” If he’d been killed in combat, Amy would have been a widow. He couldn’t bear the thought of what that would have done to her. Or worse, what if she’d had a baby? A fatherless baby to raise by herself. The break-up was the best gift he could give her before he left.
“That was then,” Jake said. “This is now.”
“My brother the philosopher.”
“So, when are you going to ask her out?”
Rafe’s heart jerked. Ask her out? “She wasn’t exactly excited to see me.”
“Ask her anyway.”
“I’ll pass.” No use digging up dry bones.
Jake slid the cash receipts into a zippered bag for the night deposit at the bank. “You still in love with her?”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Rafe made a notation on the paper pad. Later, he’d do the data entry on the computer.
“Can’t. My big brother spent four years of his life making the world a better place. I want him to be happy.”
Rafe grunted. Little brother knew how to get to him. “I am happy. This business makes me happy. Being home makes me happy.” He cast an eye toward the stereo. “Christmas music would make me happier.”
Jake snorted but didn’t go away. “Amy’s pretty hot-looking. Nice girl. So...just to be clear on the subject. If I ask her out, you’d be okay with it?”
Before Rafe could stop the reaction, he was up and out of his chair, scowling at his little brother over the counter.
A slow, knowing smile spread over Jake’s face. “Gotcha.”
Chapter Three
Amy’s boots echoed in the empty hall between the side door and the family center at the back of New Life Church. All day long she’d felt jittery about coming tonight. Now, to make her even jumpier, the church seemed unusually quiet. She’d expected a crowd to help sort the boxes of donated foods and gifts, and to act as a buffer between her and her ex-fiancé.
Slipping her gloves from her fingers, she stuffed them into her pockets and rolled her suddenly stiff shoulders. As she entered the large common room, Pastor Jacobson spotted her and came forward, his ruddy face open and smiling.
“Amy, you made it.” He offered his hand, swallowing hers in his much larger one. The forty-something former pro wrestler was the size of Paul Bunyan with an equally big heart.
She returned the smile and unwound a thick scarf from her neck. “I must be early. Where is everyone?”
“You may be it,” he said. “A scout troop was scheduled for tonight but something’s going on at the school and they canceled. With time short, we’re falling behind, so Rafe comes in most nights for a few hours. You’re a blessing for volunteering to help him.”
Blessing? She sure didn’t feel that way, and when Rafe appeared from the kitchen area toting a box labeled “green beans,” she wished she’d not come at all.
“No one else volunteered?”
“A few others may pop in. You never know.” Pastor patted her shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m headed over to the hospital. Sadie took a fall. Keep her in your prayers.”
Amy stared in dismay at the pastor’s departing back. Just like that, she was alone with Rafe Westfield. All day she’d considered backing out. Now she wished she had. But when she’d mentioned working late at the gift shop, her mom had pushed her out the door.
Behind her, Rafe slammed a box onto a table. Amy spun around.
“Hi,” he said, calm as could be. “Thanks for volunteering. We’re shorthanded.”
Amy swallowed a flutter of nerves. “So I see.”
“Might as well take off your coat and get comfortable. There’s a lot to do.”
Get comfortable? That was not likely to happen. But she shed her coat and hat, wondering how she’d gotten into this miserable situation.
“Look, I—uh...” She pressed her lips together, trying to think of a reason to leave but nothing came. The truth was she loved this project, had volunteered all through high school and beyond. Why should she allow an unimportant man to take that pleasure from her the way he’d taken her heart? With a soft exhale, she said, “Tell me where to start.”
She could do this. She would do this. Rafe didn’t need to know how awkward she felt. Or that the anger and resentment of their broken engagement simmered just beneath the surface of civility. Resentment she’d thought was long gone.
Rafe zipped a knife along the top of a box and flipped up the flaps.
“We set up empties on those tables,” he said, pointing, “and the finished ones over there. And these are the donated items to pull from.”
“Just like always.”
“Yes. Like old times.”
Old times? She didn’t think so. In old times, this would have СКАЧАТЬ