A Christmas Affair. Jodi Thomas

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СКАЧАТЬ who’d never married had suddenly become experts on wedding planning, but he didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

      Rose straightened. “Well, as a matter of fact, you can help. If you’d find a bride, we’d give you half off for being our first local customer. We could work you in before the big wedding in June.”

      Both women laughed when Wes backed away.

      “It’s all right, dear.” Daisy Franklin waved him back. “We know you’re like us, Mr. Whitman. Some folks just aren’t meant to ever marry.”

      Wes was thankful when one of his employees stepped up with the sisters’ bags.

      The Franklins waddled off and Maria handed him her empty cup. His time alone with her was over.

      She moved away without a word.

      Wes sat down in his office chair and turned his back to the door. He wished he could close off the world. He’d worked on being able to make small talk with customers. The weather. Sports. The local news. But it never came easy, and his mind didn’t seem to work fast enough to think of something witty to say to Maria.

      A light tap came from the direction of his door.

      Wes swiveled and looked up. “Yes?” was all he could think of to say.

      Maria stepped back inside his office and, to his surprise, closed the door. “Would you mind if I stay longer?”

      “No. Would you like more coffee?” He stood and knocked a stack of car part catalogs off the corner of his desk.

      She moved to where he’d knelt, but made no attempt to help him pick them up. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were all right after what Miss Franklin said.” Her soft voice seemed to whisper through the cluttered room as she reached out and touched his shoulder.

      He straightened and tossed the catalogs into the trash behind him. “I should have tossed these a long time ago.”

      He didn’t move away. He just stared at her delicate hand sliding down his arm. “I’m all right,” he finally said, more surprised that she was worried about him than upset by anything Daisy could ever say.

      Maria nodded. “Of course you are. Daisy Franklin didn’t mean anything. Her words get ahead of her brain sometimes.”

      He sat on the corner of the desk so he could look at her face. “It was kind of you to worry about me.” He still towered over her.

      He thought about touching her, maybe her cheek or covering her hand with his, but that might not be right. If he were another man he might ask her out, or kiss her cheek. Then he remembered what she’d come back for. It was time to settle the account. He needed to pay her.

      “Oh, I’m sorry. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll write your check.” He sat down at his desk and opened his checkbook.

      She remained at his side.

      Dread settled like lead in his chest. She must have something to tell him, and if she closed the door it had to be bad. She was moving? Marrying? Selling out to the Franklin sisters?

      He placed her check on the corner of the desk without looking at her and waited.

      Swiveling in the chair, he started to stand. Maybe it would be all right to walk her out this time?

      She took a step and placed her hand on his shoulder again, holding him down with her feather touch.

      When he looked up at her, he saw her sunbeam smile just for him, and her fingers brushed his jaw.

      Then she did the strangest thing. She leaned down and touched her lips to his.

      He was so shocked, he didn’t move.

      Straightening, she frowned at him, then kissed him again. Harder this time.

      He reacted like a man waking up and finally kissed her back. A light kiss. An almost innocent kiss.

      Then she stepped away as if the tidal wave that had just rolled over him was simply receding back into place.

      “I’ll see you next week,” she said, as proper as ever.

      “Yes,” he answered. He stood and awkwardly opened the door for her. “Hope you get home before the cold front comes in.”

      She never turned back as she left the store, but quiet Maria Anne Davis had just changed his world.

      Wes stood in his cluttered office and wondered how people sleep with strangers they meet at closing time and have more lovers then they can count. He didn’t even know how to talk to women anymore, or ask Maria out. He had no idea what to say but he was pretty sure a weather report wasn’t right.

      But if she kissed him, she must like him.

      If he did figure it out, she probably wouldn’t know how to answer, or they wouldn’t have anything to talk about on the date. Neither knew much about communicating.

      He smiled. Maybe it didn’t matter. She’d kissed him. That was a start.

       CHAPTER THREE

      TRAVIS WALKED INTO the county offices, thinking, How bad could this new home be? The three great-uncles probably had no clue about how to raise a kid. He barely remembered his father mentioning them, and if they were kin to his dad, they were probably drunks. New town, new house, same old problem. He’d still be on his own.

      When the deputy motioned him into the sheriff’s office, Travis swallowed his gum apprehensively and stepped into his new life.

      The three old men lining one wall were worse than he’d feared. One’s face was so wrinkled that at first Travis thought it was a mask. One was tall, real tall, and skeleton-thin. And the third looked like he was wearing pajamas.

      The deputy smiled. “Travis, meet your nearest relatives.”

      Travis thought of bolting, but it was like looking at the freaks at the circus. He was afraid to blink.

      The wrinkled uncle grinned and removed his hat that said CAP. “Hello, son, I’m your Uncle Cap, Cap Fuller.”

      “Of course you are.” Travis took his offered hand, wondering what the other two would be named—probably Slim and Crazy.

      “We’re sorry about your folks,” Cap said, without letting go of Travis’s hand. “We’ll do the best we can for you while you’re here.”

      The bony one took a long step like he was crossing a line in the sand and committing himself to sudden death. He removed his cowboy hat and nodded. “I’m Dice, Dice Fuller. You’re a fine-looking boy. How old are you, son?”

      “Almost sixteen.”

      “I would have guessed older, maybe seventeen. You got old eyes.” Dice looked him up and down as if there would be a test later. Height, weight, hair color.

      Travis СКАЧАТЬ