Dear Santa(26)

“But I do. I can help; I have lots of connections,” Peggy told her, as if what she suggested was a small thing. Lindy would be risking everything.

Lindy shook her head. “Sorry…Maybe sometime down the road.”

Peggy reluctantly accepted her decision.

Once her lunch hour was over, Peggy returned to the office, and Lindy picked up a few items her mother had asked her to collect for dinner. She was walking into the house when her phone dinged.

It was a text from Billy.

Found your glove in the truck. You home?

Yes.

See you in a few.

This was an unexpected surprise. She’d missed the red glove when she’d left to meet Peggy. The only place it could be was in Billy’s truck. She meant to ask him about it but had decided to wait until later. She would have saved him the trouble and collected it herself. Seeing that he wanted to deliver it himself was even better.

    “You’re back,” Peter said, running as fast as his legs could carry him as soon as she walked in the door. Beau barked his greeting and raced alongside Peter. Whenever she returned, Beau acted like she’d been gone forever and he’d been anxiously waiting for her to come home so she would pet him.

Setting aside her purse and the grocery bag, Lindy hauled her nephew into her arms. “Did you have a good nap?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically.

“You wore him out this morning,” her mother said, from the kitchen.

“Billy’s on his way over,” she said, as she headed into her bedroom. Peter and Beau tagged behind her.

“Who’s Billy?” Peter asked.

“A friend.”

“Does he like playing in the snow?”

Lindy shrugged. “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“Okay.”

Wanting to make sure she looked her best for Billy, Lindy touched up her makeup and ran a flat iron through her hair. She was applying lip gloss when the doorbell chimed. She let her mother and Peter answer the door. Right away she heard Peter asking Billy if he would go sledding with them for fun in the snow. Lindy rolled her eyes. Oh dear. She hadn’t meant for that to happen. She’d explain it to Billy later.

    Inhaling a deep breath, Lindy centered herself. It would be far and away too easy to let her heart get ahead of her brain when it came to Billy. She couldn’t let that happen. This was a temporary situation. A Christmas romance, and it would end when she left Wenatchee. Billy had a business to run. She wasn’t going to encourage anything beyond the two weeks she was in town.

By the time she appeared, her mother had brought Billy into the kitchen. He sat at the kitchen table. Her mother had poured him coffee and was gathering cookies for a plate. Peter was munching on a cookie as he sat on the family room floor watching Paw Patrol, his favorite cartoon series. Ever attentive, Beau was at his side.

“Ah, here’s Lindy.”

“Hey,” she said, a little self-conscious. She wasn’t sure why, other than the fact that her mother was in the room.

“Hey,” he returned.

Their eyes locked, and it felt as if they’d been apart years instead of a few hours. Her heart seemed to roar inside her chest, as if looking to make a break for it.

    “I have your glove,” he said, and the way he said the words made it sound as if he held her heart in the palm of his hand. Lindy was afraid he just might, and that was dangerous for a wide variety of reasons.

She remembered removing her glove when they’d kissed inside his truck. The need to bury her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck had been too much to resist. She’d torn off her gloves and stuffed them into her coat pocket. Apparently, only one of them had made it inside. The look they shared assured her that Billy remembered exactly when she’d removed it as keenly as she did.

“There must be a lull at the restaurant,” she said, making a determined effort to break eye contact.

He nodded.

Her mother delivered the cookies to the table and then returned to whatever it was she was doing.

“Whatever you’re cooking, Mrs. Carmichael, smells delicious.”

“Chad and Ashley are coming for dinner,” Lindy explained. “Mississippi pot roast is my brother’s favorite.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s made with pepperoncinis,” Ellen explained, as she set the lid back on the Crock-Pot.

“Never thought of them having anything to do with Mississippi,” Billy said.

Lindy had to agree. She didn’t know how the dish got its name. “Come to think of it, me neither.”

    “Billy, why don’t you join us for dinner?” her mother offered, turning to face them. “We’d love to have you.”

Billy looked to Lindy, as if seeking her reaction.

“Could you get away?” Lindy hoped it was possible. The last thing she wanted was to put pressure on him, knowing how busy the restaurant would be this evening.

“We’ll eat around six,” her mother added.

Billy reached for Lindy’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “I could get away for an hour, I suppose. I’ve been there since eight this morning. I could use a break.”

Lindy hadn’t dared to hope he would take the time away, and squeezed his hand back. “That’s great.” And then, because she didn’t want him to feel an obligation on her behalf, she added, “Are you sure?”