CHAPTER 6
BETH IMMEDIATELY called and made plane reservations. Russ helped her with a list of places to go and wished her well on seeing the world.
“Take care of yourself, and don’t forget to come back,” he joked at the airport.
A bad case of last-minute jitters made her consider staying home for a brief moment. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll be home sometime.” She took a deep breath. Leaving Morning Sun wasn’t quite as easy as she thought it would be, even for a short time.
Russ insisted on carrying her bag and staying with her until she boarded. He walked her to her gate. There wasn’t much to say.
“Well, this is it. Off to Europe.”
Money could buy a lot of things; none which seemed all that important at the moment. There was so much she wanted to say. Will you be here when I come back? Will you miss me while I’m gone? What will you be doing every minute while I’m so far away? I will see you again, won’t I? She swallowed hard.
Russ tipped her chin and kissed her lightly. He was so warm. So comfortable. His arms felt so good. “Take care of yourself. I’ll be here if you need me.” He handed her the overnight case she was carrying on the plane, and she went toward the boarding gate. This was going to be fun, she reminded herself. She was rich! Life was perfect. Wasn’t it?
* * *
LONDON WAS COLD and foggy. She’d caught a cold as she’d walked along the Thames River and got soaked watching the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. She was running a temperature by the end of week one.
She rode on the top deck of a bus for the experience, took the tube to Harrods, then visited Madame Tussaud’s, The London Museum, and the National Gallery. How many different versions had Van Gogh done of sunflowers anyhow? Fish and chips were tasty and scones reminded her of Aunt Harry’s sweet breads.
Harrods offered all the shopping her feet could stand. Aunt Harry would love the Beatrix Potter tea set Beth had bought for her. It was sure to be the centerpiece at Easter dinners for years to come. On an impulse, she bought a twelve-inch hand-painted china replica of Jasper. The dog could have posed for the artist. Maybe Russ would think of her when he looked at it in Washington. The thought of Russ brought a physical pain to her heart, and she shivered even though the store was warm.
Paris was vibrant and exciting. The taxi drivers scared Beth half to death. Notre Dame was beautiful. The huge stained-glass windows were absolutely breathtaking. Tears welled in her eyes as she followed the tour through the cathedral. Were her tears for the tragic history, the depressed seeking refuge here, or were they also for herself?
She took a ride down the Seine. The couple seated in front of her snuggled and kissed during the entire trip. Would Russ still be in Morning Sun when she returned? A busy signal was all she received last night when she called home. The phone had to be off the hook again. The aliens were evidently in a talkative mood.
She rode the Métro. She ate at sidewalk cafés. Men noticed her. One approached and spoke so rapidly she hardly got a word he said, except she did understand that the tall, handsome Frenchman was on the prowl when he slipped his arm around her shoulder and leaned close. She pulled her sweater around her, and left a full plate to hurry back to her hotel. She wasn’t hungry anyway. What really sounded good right now was a nice cup of hot cider and a slice of Aunt Harry’s gingerbread.
Rome was amazing. The taxi drivers here were even worse than the ones in Paris. Saint Peter’s was awe-inspiring. Vatican City was beyond description. The Sistine Chapel was even more majestic than she ever imagined. She bought a calendar for Aunt Harry outside the Colosseum. The wild taxi ride to the Pantheon left her with a headache, which the dark interior did little to alleviate. She stood beside Raphael’s tomb enthralled, yet wishing she were home. She gulped down two Excedrin without water and hailed another taxi to go back to her hotel.
This time Aunt Harry answered. “Harriet Morris, Planet Earth.”
“Aunt Harriet! I’m coming home.”
“Whatever for? Need more money?”
“No, Aunt Harry. I’ll be home next week.” That gave her a few days in the Big Apple before she flew back to Morning Sun.
New York was big and expensive. It poured every day she was there. Hotel charges were astronomical, and the price of a cup of coffee in Manhattan would buy a whole meal in Morning Sun. Were all big cities like this? Beth had her fill of big-city living by the third day in New York. Was she ever happy to be back in Morning Sun.
This morning, she snuggled deeper beneath her down comforter, on her new mattress, in her own room, and thought about the rest of her life. Christmas was still six weeks away, and what a gift she’d already given herself. When she’d returned from her trip, she’d stepped off the plane and had gone straight to the bank of pay phones. Anne had been more than happy to sell her bookstore for cash money. That same day, Beth had purchased The Readers’ Nook, securing the deed with a handshake and a smile.
And a check for thirty-five thousand dollars.
Anne had made it plain to everyone that she was waiting to sell until the right person came along. Beth was the right person, and Anne was absolutely delighted that her beloved bookstore was going to one of her favorite customers. They’d signed the deed over coffee in the back room with Anne promising to stay on a few weeks to train Beth in bookkeeping, the ordering processes, and the proper procedures for buying and selling used books.
Closing her eyes, Beth listened to Harriet downstairs. It was fantastic to be home again. Aunt Harry was glad to have her home, too, although she’d enjoyed MaryAnn’s company the two weeks Beth was off on her adventure.
Now that Beth was settling in Morning Sun for good, there was no need for Harriet to move into Eldelson’s Health Care facility at the first of the year, as they had tentatively planned. Harriet admitted she was a little disappointed, but agreed to stay with Beth awhile, at least. Beth had had her taste of adventure, and Morning Sun was not so bad after all. “Home was definitely where the heart was,” she’d explained to Harry. And Beth’s heart had never left Morning Sun.
Rolling to her side, she thought about a someone her heart was never very far from. Russ Foster. He must think she was crazy. Flying off at a moment’s notice to see the world, only to hightail it back fourteen days later. He did seem to get a kick out of the china dog she brought him.
The alarm buzzed, and she slapped it off, then rolled out of bed. An hour later, she unlocked the door to The Readers’ Nook. By nine, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee mingled with the scent of spiced cider. Sighing, she flipped the Open sign into place, and began the first day of the rest of her life.
Anne was there by nine-thirty, earlier than expected. It was easy to see she already missed the store.
“Feels like another snow,” the older woman predicted, hanging her coat on the back of the office door. “We’ve sure had our share already. I dread to think what January and February has in store for us.”
“Snow should put everyone in the Christmas spirit.” Beth poured Anne a cup of coffee. She would need all the business she could get. Anne had already warned that January and February were slow months.
“Let’s get past Thanksgiving first.” Anne chuckled. “You just became a store owner and already you’re talking like a merchant.” They both laughed, and Beth leaned over to hug her friend.
“You’re right, Anne. I’ll take it one day at a time, but I’ve always enjoyed a good snow.”
“You don’t want it to snow too much. People won’t come for your grand opening.”
Beth had placed grand opening ads in the local newspaper and had arranged for a catering service to serve finger sandwiches, cookies and stuffed mushroom caps. She’d even coerced six-year-old Toby Garrett, who lived three houses from Aunt Harry’s, to act as official doorman. She hadn’t yet mentioned that she wanted him to wear a tuxedo and top hat. Hopefully, he was a good sport.
That afternoon, between poring over the ledgers with Anne, and learning other aspects of the business, Beth waited on customers. Anne kept records in an ancient ledger, the figures written in tiny script Sales were meticulously entered along with purchases, deposits, and checks written, but Anne hadn’t balanced the books in years. Bookkeeping was not Beth’s strong suit, but even she knew checkbooks had to be balanced. She would have to buy a computer and software to bring her books into the twenty-first century.
“It’s going to snow,” Aunt Harry announced when Beth walked into the kitchen a little after six that evening. She proceeded to the stove and lifted the lid on a pot, sniffing but unable to detect an aroma. Water boiled vigorously.
“What are you cooking, Aunt Harry?” she asked casually.
“Cooking?”
“In the pot.”
“Is there something cooking in the pot? Well, add a little salt, will you dear?”
Beth switched off the burner, and stepped to the refrigerator to make a cold turkey sandwich. “I’m not sure I like you quitting that good job and buying a bookstore. You’ll have to work longer hours,” Harry complained. “What did Mr. Herring say about this?”
“He’s the boss, so he wasn’t happy I quit, but I had accumulated over six weeks vacation time. The trip to Europe wasn’t a problem. And I told him I would stay on until he found someone, but he knew I didn’t really want to. His wife’s filling in until they can hire someone to take my place. I told him they could call me anytime they need my help.”
“Well, I still think you should have stayed where you were.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on working long hours. I’ll hire a part-time high school student when Anne leaves.” The doorbell rang as Beth licked mayonnaise off the knife. “Are you expecting someone?” If one more of Aunt Harry’s friends dropped off a plate of divinity, she would scream.
She opened the door and there stood Russ, balancing a stack of various-size bowls and pans in both arms. For a moment her heart stopped. This was the second time she’d seen him since she got home from her trip. The first was when she stopped by David’s just to drop off the dog souvenir she bought in London.
“I’m returning,” he explained when her eyes focused on the armload of utensils.
“I see Aunt Harry kept you well fed.”
“Extremely.” Handing the dishes off, Russ gave her a kiss. “Glad you’re back, and thanks again for Astor.” He chuckled. “Jasper’s not impressed, but I like him a lot.” He gave her a quick hug. His unexpected display of affection took her breath away. “Your world tour didn’t take long.”
“Two weeks,” she said, breathing deeply. Did he have any idea what those casual, “I’m your good friend” kisses and the hug did to her? Did he know the desire he was unleashing? “I’m too old to start over.”
He stepped around her, and took off his jacket. He looked so handsome. Better than any man she saw on her brief “exploration.” She stared at his trim buttocks, then shook her head and closed the door. “Aunt Harry tells me we’re the talk of the town now that we won the lottery.”
“We’re the talk of something, all right. It’s been a zoo around here. You missed all the hubbub. We’re celebrities. Morning Sun threw a big party last week, and a couple of newspapers in Philadelphia sent reporters to cover the story.”
“That’s what Aunt Harry told me.” Beth regretted now that she boarded the plane for Europe three days after the big win. She was so eager to see the world—well, it wasn’t her first mistake. She hated crowded airports, crazy cab rides, and being a stranger in town. Why hadn’t she just stayed in Morning Sun and enjoyed her win?
“Heard you bought The Reader’s Nook.”
“Yeah, can you believe it? I’m a businesswoman now. Stop by someday. There’s a whole section on physical fitness and one on investments that you might be interested in.”
“David?” Aunt Harry called from the kitchen. “Is that you? I’m cooking again! Sit down and I’ll bring you a bowl of soup.”
Beth shook her head, mouthing. “I don’t recommend the soup. She’s boiling salt water.”
“No, thanks, Harriet. I’m not really in the mood for soup,” he called back.
“Beth, fix David a sandwich!”
“Would you like a sandwich?”
“I’m always in the mood for a sandwich.” Russ trailed her to the refrigerator. “So, you didn’t like Paris?”
“I liked it—just couldn’t understand a word anyone said.” She handed him the jar of mayonnaise.
“Italy?”
“Okay. Lots to see. Things I studied in school.”
“Like?”
“Pantheon, Trevi Fountain. The Spanish Steps. St. Peter’s. Michelangelo’s Pieta.” She sighed. “The Sistine Chapel. It’s beyond a person’s imagination.”
He nodded solemnly. “It is, isn’t it. What about New York?”
She grinned. “I visited Saint Patrick’s Cathedral twice. Ever been there?”
He nodded. “A few times.”
“Trump Tower?”
“Once or twice.”
“Pyramids?”
He accepted the plate of turkey. “Pyramids? Never. Don’t tell me you made Egypt, too?”
“No.” She spread mayonnaise on two pieces of bread. “I’m just trying to figure out somewhere you haven’t been. How’s your investment venture?”
“Profitable, I hope, but too soon to tell.”
“Well, hope you make a fortune.” That was the thing about dreams versus commodities. You knew right away if a dream was worthwhile. No waiting around for the quirky stock market to respond, no bullish or bearish markets to contend with.
Beth had dreamed of traveling since she was old enough to say jet lag. Now she’d seen priceless art, the Seine and the Thames, had shopped Harrod’s and Bloomingdales. She’d eaten scones, fish and chips, and had tried one French fry with mayonnaise. While all that had been very nice, she’d felt out of place and lonely. They were all nice places to visit, but…
It was on the plane coming home when she decided there was nothing wrong with the mall at Morning Sun.
“I realize now what my priorities really are. I took my dream vacation, but the dream was sometimes a nightmare. Now I want to live my life.” She lifted the lid off the pot and poured the hot water down the sink. Even Aunt Harry’s nuttiness didn’t bother her so much now.
Adding turkey, lettuce and tomato, she finished making the sandwich and handed it to Russ. “Coffee?”
“Milk.”
Aunt Harry smiled, reaching out to give Beth a hug. “I’m awfully glad you’re home, darling.”
“Me, too, Aunt Harry.” Beth’s eyes met Russ’s over Harry’s shoulder. “Me too.”
“YOU’RE FLYING to your sister’s tomorrow?” Beth turned the Open sign Friday morning, and smiled at Anne.
“Morning flight. I’m all packed.” Anne looked around the store’s new interior. Mist shone in her eyes. “My, it’s been years since I took any time off.”
“Well.” Beth closed the door, shivering. “You know you always have a job here, if you want it.”
With Thanksgiving only a week away, Beth’s grand opening was scheduled for Saturday night from five until ten. The renovations had taken less than a week, with a crew of four, and the store looked splendid. The old beige walls were now a sunny yellow. The scarred pine floor had taken on a new sheen. The shelves were spanking clean, the books all dusted. There were even some old tomes found hidden away on the tall, top shelves that just might pass as collector’s items. They now decorated a small reading area at the front of the store.
Potpourri scented the air with rose and mulberry. Coffee, assorted teas, and hot apple cider simmered on a mahogany table, convenient to browsers. The front window held the week’s bestsellers and children’s books in a separate smaller display. Beth was very pleased with the results. The only dark spot on the honzon was the low-hanging gray clouds that threatened snow, rain or both.
Beth kept an eye on the pending storm all during the afternoon. Switching on the small radio, her worst fears were confirmed.
“A winter weather watch has been issued for the county. Rain beginning by midnight, turning to freezing rain by morning. Sleet mixed with snow for Saturday…”
“Great. Just what I need,” Beth groused.
Before Aunt Harry went to bed, she assured Beth that snow or no snow, the grand opening would be a success. Aunt Harry could talk. It wasn’t her money on the line. If no one attended the opening, they would be eating nine dozen sandwiches, cookies and crab-stuffed mushroom caps for the next month.
With one last glance out the window, Beth climbed into bed, and lay there imagining every disaster possible. The weather would turn nasty. Absolutely no one would show up for the grand opening.
Rain beating against the window awoke her at midnight. At two o’clock she awoke again, and this time by driving sleet that pelted the glass. Disaster was at the door, and beating on the panes with a vengeance.
Around four, she got out of bed and heated a glass of warm milk, hoping it would help her get back to sleep.
When the alarm went off at six, Beth opened one eye to peer out the window. Bounding out of bed, she looked out the window to see a thin layer of snow dusting the bushes. Sighing with relief, she showered and dressed in a spruce-green dress with a flared skirt, brushed her hair up into a loose pouf, and hoped for the best as she went downstairs to have breakfast with Aunt Harry.
“I hope this clears up by tonight,” Beth told her as she reached for a piece of toast.
Harriet tsked. “You don’t need wishes. It’s only days away from the official Christmas season. A little snow won’t keep shoppers at home.”
“Let’s hope not.” Beth kissed Harriet’s weathered cheek. “You coming down this afternoon?”
“Oh.” Harriet frowned. “I might. George said he’d stop by later today—I’ll wait and see if he comes.”
“Try to come, Aunt Harry. I need bodies.” Lots of bodies with big appetites to eat dozens of crab-stuffed mushroom caps.
Aunt Harriet rummaged through the cabinets.
“What are you looking for?”
“Oh, I want to bake my fruitcakes this afternoon. Have you seen the WD-40?”
“It’s the green can on the top shelf. And it’s Pam, Aunt Harry.”
“Of course, dear.” Harry added the cooking spray to her baking items on the cabinet.
Business was slow. Traffic hardly moved. Frequent bursts of sleet left a layer of ice on the road and on the shop windows. Wringing her hands, Beth watched the street crews spread salt and gravel. The knot in her stomach tightened.
She paced the floor, staring out the window. No one was coming. The grand opening was a complete bust. Toby, replete in top hat and tuxedo, sat in the reading area eating cookies and dropping crumbs on the new Persian rug. Strains of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman” entertained an empty bookstore.
“Hey, look!” Toby got up and mashed the crumbs deeper into the carpet as he bolted to the window. “It’s snowing!”
“Wonderful.” Beth sank to a chair. Absolutely wonderful! She was doomed.
She stood and lifted the coffeepot from the burner. It was full. “Toby, we might as well close the store and go home before it gets any worse.” She switched off the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup.
Cups were stacked and ready to pack in a bag when a school bus braked in front of the store. Beth glanced out the window. “What is a school bus doing out this time of the day—and in this weather?”
Toby didn’t answer, but pressed his nose against the pane to watch.
The door of the bus whisked open, and Harriet got out. Then Mary Ann, followed by George.
Beth walked to the front of the store and watched the bus empty. She silently counted each person as they stepped off the vehicle. There were thirty-six passengers.
Harriet waved and turned to point to the driver. Russ grinned back at her from behind the wheel.
Beth wasn’t going to cry. She knew now why she could never leave Morning Sun. The weather was worsening by the moment, but friends and acquaintances were here to shop.
She wiped a tear from her eye.
Anne was among the first through the front door. “Hello,” she greeted warmly as people poured through the doorway. The shoppers spread out, exclaiming over the recent changes.
“Anne!” Beth exclaimed, taking her hand. “I thought you had a morning flight.”
“Canceled because of inclement weather.” Anne squeezed her shoulders. “I’d decided to take a later flight, anyway. I couldn’t miss your grand opening.”
Beth watched Russ get off the bus, and her heart sang. She threaded her way through the crowded room, headed toward the door. Had Aunt Harry coerced him into driving the bus? He entered the store, knocking snow off his hat and gloves. When he spotted her, he smiled.
“You…” She was at a loss for words. “Who’s responsible for this?”
He shrugged. “Harry and I thought your customers might need a little help getting here tonight. George provided the bus, I agreed to drive, and Harriet called everyone she knew and told them we’d get them here if they wanted to come. “And—” he gestured to the crowded store ”—they wanted to come.”
Beth’s eyes again filled with tears of gratitude. “Thank you.” It wasn’t the business she appreciated, it was the love behind Harry’s and George’s actions.
Russ stayed behind the counter, keeping out of the way. A young mother helped her two small children choose suitable reading material, an older couple in the reading area sipped tea and perused travel books, a businessman leafed through computer manuals.
Beth hurried to set the cups out again, and put on fresh coffee.
“The place looks great.”
He was completely at home in the bookstore. Handsome, confident, his cheeks red from the cold, hair tousled and glistening with melting snow. Beth couldn’t have loved him more.
The door opened again, and two women with mufflers covering their faces rushed in. They stomped snow from their boots and sniffed the sweet aromas appreciatively.
“Welcome to The Readers’ Nook,” Toby greeted, his gap-toothed grin making him look like Tom Sawyer in a tux. “Please help yourself to a cup of hot tea, or cider. You can have a cookie, if you want it.”
“That coffee smells wonderful,” one woman said, drawing off her gloves and muffler. “Where’s the mystery section?”
“Mysteries—third shelf on the right.”
“Thank you, young man.”
The grand opening exceeded Beth’s wildest expectations. Even without the busload Harry and Russ brought, several shoppers braved the storm to come. Standing room only was the rule of the evening.
“Thank you, Aunt Harry,” Beth called, trying to keep up with register sales.
“For what?” Harriet stacked another cookbook on her arm. “It was all that nice Foster boy’s idea.”
Beth glanced at Russ who was busy making coffee and adding to the mulled cider. The room was utter chaos.
Outside, the snow was coming down in heavy sheets.
Ten minutes before nine, a line formed at the counter. Parents with small children were first, followed by one, then another shopper. Beth and Anne rang up the purchases, packing the customers’ treasures in white sacks decorated with a large red poinsettia. Russ announced he would go out and warm the bus.
“Brrr,” George said, pocketing his change as the door closed. “The temperature’s dropping like a rock. Want to get a pizza on the way home, Harry?”
Harry laughed. “George, you have an empty pit for a stomach. I’m full of stuffed mushrooms and fruitcake.”
Russ came back into the store, stamping snow off his boots and brushing the white fluff out of his hair. “Folks, we have a small problem.”
Beth glanced up from sacking a purchase. “What’s wrong?”
“The streets are a solid sheet of ice. You can’t stand up out there.”
The door opened, and two customers who left a few minutes earlier, entered the store and quickly closed the door behind them. The older woman looked stricken. “We can’t get out of the parking lot.”
“We practically had to crawl back,” her daughter said. “The sidewalk and parking lot are like an ice rink.”
“Uh-oh,” Russ muttered as the lights dimmed, came back up, then went out entirely.
“Hey, neat!” Toby shouted.
Not so neat, Beth thought with a sinking heart.
“What’s going on?” a voice demanded from a darkened aisle. Several other customers quickly felt their way to the checkout counter.
“Don’t panic.” Beth tried to keep her voice reassuring. “I have a flashlight.” She rummaged blindly through a drawer. “Somewhere.”
She located it and handed it to Russ.
He switched it on, then shook it. “Doesn’t work.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake…” Beth’s mind whirled. There were at least forty customers still in the store! What would she do with forty stranded customers?
“Batteries,” Russ mumbled. He rattled the empty case. The room would have been pitch black if the scented candles weren’t burning. Beth knew if the electricity was off, the heat was, too.
“Here,” she said, coming up with three C batteries.
“Takes four.”
“Dam.” She tossed the batteries back into the drawer. “Well, now what?”
A groan went up in the room. Forty customers were stuck for the night.
Harriet rose to the occasion. “Listen you nillys. This could be fun. Beth? Where are all those other candles you ordered? Bring them out.”
Beth felt her way back to the storeroom, eventually locating the three dozen new, scented, three-inch Christmas candles she’s ordered a week ago. Some in the crowd had matches and Beth used the burning candles to light more. The wicks sputtered to life, and the aroma of pine and cranberry filled the room. The front door opened, and Beth expected to see another stranded customer, but it was a policeman.
“You folks all right?”
“Yes. Any chance of the electricity coming back on soon?” Beth asked the policeman.
“Couldn’t say. But if anyone’s thinking of trying to get home, don’t. Nothing’s moving out there.”
“Are we going to be here all night?” Toby asked.
All night? Beth felt weak. Her bad luck was in full throttle again.
Beth and Russ felt their way to the back of the store and brought folding chairs and two wooden straight back chairs to the front. Beth lowered the blinds to help hold in the heat. Two disgruntled customers decided to take their chances and left. They were back within twenty minutes, chilled to the bone.
“I’ve never seen it so bad,” one said. “It’s a regular iceland out there.”
People began to prepare for a long night. The room was cramped, but the candles gave off a delicious homey warmth. When the lights hadn’t come on by eleven o’clock, everyone bedded down for the night, using their coats, gloves and mufflers against the encroaching chill. Couples helped keep one another warm. Toby fell asleep, curled tightly in a corner against an older couple who had taken him under their wing.
Harriet rummaged through her purse for a deck of cards, and she and George talked another couple into playing candlelight bridge. Others rolled up coats for pillows and lay down on the floor to sleep.
Around ten, Russ took Beth’s hand, and one plate of sandwiches and another of cookies, and led her to the back room.
“Heck of a way to get a dinner date with you,” he said, setting a candle on her desk. “But I’ll take what I can get.”
Beth was numb. Forty customers were asleep on the floor of her bookstore.
Russ soothed back a lock of her hair. His gaze softened in the flickering candlelight. “I have to say, when you first told me you thought you were under a curse, I didn’t believe you.”
She smiled, meeting his gaze. “And now?”
“I believe you.” He took a bite of cookie, then held it out for her to take a bite.
She bit into the sweet. “This is insane. What am I going to do with all these people?”
“You’re doing it. Relax. They won’t hold you responsible for the storm.”
“They’ll never shop here again. The store will bring back nothing but bad memories of a cold night spent on a miserably uncomfortable floor.”
“Actually, they’re going to thank you. You’ve given them a safe haven from a storm. They should and will be thankful that they are relatively warm and comfortable. What more could they ask?”
Easing her closer, he chuckled. Beth liked the masculine sound. He smelled of clean falling snow and brisk coldness.
“Thank you, Russ. The grand opening would have been a disaster if you hadn’t arranged to bring all these people here.”
He nibbled her ear.
“Of course, this weather is a disaster, but the grand opening was a success. I’m sure I’ve made more tonight than Anne made in a month.”
“I’m glad.” He bent to kiss her. No matter how frigid the temperature, his kiss warmed her to the core.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned this—or Aunt Harry planned it,” Beth accused, snuggling closer in his arms.
“Now why would anyone in their right mind ‘plan’ something like this?”
Why indeed? Beth wondered. But then, they were talking about Aunt Harry.
“If I were going to plan anything, I’d make sure we were alone. Two’s company, forty’s a crowd. However, now that I think about it, I haven’t had a whole bunch of luck with you alone, either,” he admitted.
It was true. She’d avoided Russ and she knew it was obvious to him. How could she allow him access to her heart when she knew he was leaving as soon as his leg healed? How could she explain that a short romantic interlude was not her style? If she allowed herself to fall in love, it would be for a lifetime.
“I know, Russ, there’s just no future—”
“Miss Davis?”
Beth reluctantly stepped out of Russ’s arms. “Yes, Toby?”
“Can I take off this stupid suit now?”
She smothered a laugh. Nothing was going as she planned. “Of course, Toby. And put your coat on over your jeans and sweater. It’s going to get cold in here.”