“You looked stunning in that dress, Becks.”
He was just being kind, because he’d sensed she was in a low mood.
“Yeah, right. It gave me a rash, but—thanks.” Another thing she wasn’t good at. Accepting compliments. “Anyway, you should get going. I’m guessing the snow is going to make the driving difficult.”
Will glanced from her to the long line of people ahead of her, as if trying to understand her decision. “If you’re sure...”
“I’m sure.”
But just at that moment there was a commotion at the front of the queue.
“What do you mean there are no more cars?” A man spoke in a loud voice. “There has to be something.”
A ripple of consternation passed through the line of people.
“No cars?”
“Did he say no cars?”
“What’s supposed to happen now?”
It was obvious what had to happen now, at least for Becky.
She closed her eyes and tried a few seconds of mindfulness.
When she opened them Will was still standing there, waiting. She had to admire his staying power.
With a sigh, she swallowed her pride. “If your offer of sharing your car still stands—”
“It still stands, and I promise not to listen when you make your important phone call.”
She wished she’d never mentioned a phone call. Not only would she now need to find someone to call, but she was going to have to make it sound important.
“Thanks.”
He nodded and stretched out his hand. “Do you want help with that suitcase?”
“Do I look weak and feeble? Thanks, but I’m fine.” She grabbed it firmly and tugged it closer to her, wondering how she was going to survive this. As well as dreading the impending family gathering, she was now also dreading the journey.
“I thought your muscles might have atrophied given the time you spend glued to computer screens.”
He was teasing her the way he’d always teased her. It should have felt natural, but nothing felt natural anymore.
“I could still beat you in an arm-wrestling match.”
His eyebrow lifted. “If you’re referring to that incident on your fifteenth birthday, I let you win.”
“No you didn’t, but we’ll pretend you did if that protects your ego.”
“I let you win because you were trying to impress that boy who played in the school orchestra with you. The one with red hair and freckles. Tom.”
“Tim.” How on earth had he remembered that? “Tim Tucker. I haven’t thought about him in years.”
“I seem to remember the strategy backfired. He was too scared to go near you after that.”
“So you’re the reason that relationship didn’t work out.”
He nodded slowly. “Probably, although in my defence I couldn’t see you being happy with a man who was scared to arm-wrestle you. But relationships are complicated. So are feelings.”
