Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Rob
The roads are clear enough for Whitney to drive herself in by late morning, and I’m not surprised when she shows up with a coffee for each of us.
I spent a decent chunk of time last night lying in my bed, wondering what the vibe between us will be. Will it be awkward? Will I get to kiss her hello, or is she going to pretend it never happened?
It’s no wonder I can barely think over the sound of my heartbeat as she crosses the equipment bay toward me.
“Today is not only Monday, but half the day is gone, and the Christmas fair is Saturday,” she says, handing me one of the cups. “We need to get to work.”
She doesn’t meet my eyes when she says it, so I assume that’s her way of answering my unasked question of where we go from here.
I guess we’re pretending the kiss didn’t happen. Okay, then.
“We should go scope out the main street,” I tell her. It’s going to be nice today and tomorrow, but we’re in for a cold snap Wednesday and Thursday nights.”
“A cold snap? Has it not been cold this whole time, including so cold we got dumped on by snow?”
I chuckle at her indignant expression. “By cold snap, I mean dipping down into temps that will turn any cute, fluffy piles of snow into frozen boulders. We need to look at the map we sketched out and make sure that anywhere we plan to set up activities gets cleared out before it freezes.”
“This may come as a shock to you, but I’m not great with a snow shovel.”
“So what I’m hearing is that you need practice.” When her eyes widen, I laugh. “We’ll make a list of trouble spots and I’ll get it to town hall so the Public Works guys can get on it.”
“I have the map on my phone.”
“And while we’re out driving around, we should stop by my place and grab the paint for the sleigh.”
She sighs, looking disappointed in me, but not surprised. “We have to paint a sleigh? I didn’t see that noted anywhere, and you haven’t mentioned it.”
“When I dropped it in the inn’s event barn to store it because the person who was storing it bought himself a project car and needed the space, I noticed it was looking a bit shabby, but I didn’t write it down.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to park your SUV outside and put the sleigh in here, since you’re always here?”
“It makes perfect sense until somebody calls 9-1-1 and it takes me ten minutes to scrape the snow and ice off my windows.”
“Good point.” She nods, conceding the point. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
She’s reverted back to that attitude of brisk efficiency that rubbed me the wrong way the day I met her, but it’s even worse now. Now I know she’s brisk and efficient, but she’s also funny and warm and kisses like she means it.
Once we’re on the road, I turn up the radio so the Christmas music can mask the awkward silence between us. I’m not sure how to break through it, and I’m considering whether she actually wants to talk about the kiss, but can’t bring herself to initiate the conversation when she bursts into laughter.
“Did you see those inflatables?” she asks me, turning in her seat in an effort to see them again through the back window.
“I did.”
“Be honest. The town has to get complaints.”
“Oh, they do. Mostly from the homeowner. He’s a bit of a cantankerous sort and after he’s barked at the neighborhood kids for being too loud or cutting across his yard, he wakes up to find his inflatable reindeer in compromising positions.”
I love the way her laughter fills the vehicle, drowning out the radio. “Why doesn’t he get rid of the reindeer, then? He could find Christmas decorations that aren’t so easy to make into inflatable orgies.”
“I’m not sure anybody’s asked him that, but it’s a good question. He’s stubborn, maybe? He likes having a reason to complain?”
Laughing together seems to have dispelled the awkward cloud hovering over us, and we talk about fair business as we cruise Main Street. It takes us a few passes because we can only drive so slowly without annoying other drivers and the amount of slush makes walking an unappealing option.
“I think the spot where the candy cane maze is going is the only trouble spot,” I say once we’ve covered everything. “My dad and his buddies will take care of the sled runs. They do it every year, and we’re already talked about it twice this morning.”
“Oh look, there’s a parking spot right in front of the General Store, and my cup is empty.”
I have to brake a little suddenly to pull into the spot, but it’s worth it when Whitney gives me a smile that’ll keep me warm for the rest of the day. Of course, we can’t just grab two coffees and run. Beth’s in a mood to chat, and every time there’s a lull and I think I can lure Whitney away, somebody comes in and strikes up a conversation with me.
By the time I get her back in the SUV, she’s well-caffeinated, but already checking the time on her smartwatch. And when I make the right turn onto my street, she’s scowling at her phone screen. It looks like an email app at a quick glance.
“Everything okay?” I ask as I pull into my driveway.
“I think so. I’m expecting some documents from the office and I haven’t received them yet. Probably holiday-itis.” She looks up, her phone screen going dark with a click. “Whose house is this?”
“Mine.”
“Oh.” She leans forward, trying to get a better look through the windshield. “You said it was near the fire station, but you’re almost close enough to walk. It’s cute.”
Cute. It’s probably her way of saying it’s small, which it is. A small two-story Cape with a detached garage, both with light gray siding and white trim. It’s simple, as is the landscaping, but I’m surrounded by trees and it has a nice porch.
“I got a good deal on it, and it checked all the boxes. Quiet road, but still close to town and work. Not in need of too much fixing up. And it got me out from under my parents’ roof.”
She looks at me thoughtfully, her head tilted. “I guess this is where I ask nosy, personal questions.”
The way she wrinkles her nose makes me smile. “I thought I was in a serious relationship when I bought it. I probably should have guessed by her lack of interest in the process that she didn’t think our relationship was that serious. And I guess I haven’t gotten that far in a relationship since. How about you? Have you lived with anybody?”
“Nope. Where’s the paint?”
I let her get away with the abrupt subject change because sitting in my vehicle, talking about past partners, is not how I want to spend my time with Whitney. “It’s in the garage, but I’ll unlock the house if you want, since you’re on your second coffee.”
She laughs. “Second coffee since I left the inn, so that would be great, actually.”
I unlock the front door and let her know there’s a half-bath and laundry room by the back door. I’m not worried about her wandering around the house. It’s neat and a little on the spartan side, and I don’t have anything stashed away that I wouldn’t want her to find if she goes snooping.
And by keeping myself busy loading paint cans in the back of the SUV instead of giving her a tour, I can avoid being alone with her in a place where we can kiss without being interrupted.
A place that has a bed in it.
Nope. I hit the button for the liftgate and stand back as it slowly closes.
“Do you want me to lock this?” I hear Whitney call from the porch.
“Please.”
She wasn’t gone long enough to have snooped, which is a little disappointing, actually. It seems like if she was really into me, she would have poked around my house—maybe even taken a peek in my bedroom.
“Are you going to talk to the town hall about the snow?” she asks once we’re back on the road.
“Yeah, I’ll give them a call this afternoon.”
“I hate to say it, but I still don’t have those documents, so if you don’t need me, I’ll head back to the inn and find out what the problem is.”
“The boss is away and it’s almost Christmas,” I say, and her sound of annoyance makes me chuckle. “We can swing by and get your car, but I’m going to the inn anyway to drop this paint off so we can paint tomorrow.”
“Bring coffee.”
“Of course. Did you pack any old jeans?”
She laughs. “I don’t own any old jeans. I don’t own any new jeans.”
“Okay. That’s…different. What do you wear when you’re doing casual things? Like gardening or grocery shopping or hanging out with your family?”
“I rarely see my family, I live in an apartment so I don’t have any dirt to dig in or grass to mow, and I do my grocery shopping on my way home from work without changing my clothes. I have business, business casual and relaxing at home clothes.”
“Okay, what do you wear when you’re relaxing at home?”
“Leggings and a T-shirt, usually.”
Maybe that visual shouldn’t jumpstart my heart rate, but it does. “Perfect. Did you bring any with you?”
“Yes, but?—”
“There you go.”
“I brought them to sleep in, so their current usage is as pajamas.”
“You didn’t bring pajamas to use as pajamas?”
“I don’t wear pajamas to sleep in my own bed.”
My brain shorts out, and I’m not sure how I keep the SUV on the road as images of Whitney, naked in bed, flash through my head. I strangle the steering wheel, trying to get myself under control.
I have to clear my throat twice before I can speak, though. “Yeah, that won’t work for painting, I guess.”
“Makes the clean-up easier, though,” she says, and then she rests her hand on my arm as she laughs.
It’s probably a good thing she goes straight from my SUV to her car when we get back to the station, and that I don’t need her help moving the paint cans into the inn’s garage because there’s almost no chance I’d be able to keep my hands off of her in the state I’m in.
I’m going to stop by town hall, finish up my day, and then climb into a cold shower and stay there until it’s time to see Whitney again.