I rushed forward and hugged her quickly. “Thanks, Mom. For everything.”
“Always.”
Then I ran out into the crisp wintry night, a man on a mistletoe mission.
17
Toby
“You owe my car an apology,”I declared as we stood at the back end while the hatch lifted effortlessly.
Archer snorted like I’d made a joke, and I folded my arms across my chest and glared.
“You’re serious?” he asked, all trace of humor gone.
“You could just admit that you were wrong.” I was a generous guy.
“Wrong?” He guffawed. “Wrong about what?”
“That this car is for a city boy.”
He pursed his lips and folded his arms across his chest, mirroring my stance. He was wearing another flannel. Honestly, I was starting to believe it was all he owned.
Not that it was a bad thing… No one wore flannel like Archer.
“And what proof do you have that it isn’t?” he challenged.
I gestured to the gingerbread gazebo, which sat unharmed in the back of my Outback. “Your truck couldn’t have done that.”
“My truck is made for hauling trees.”
I turned my ear toward him and sang, “I’m waiting.”
He made a rude noise.
I waited, and he sighed.
“Fine.” He begrudged. “Your car was helpful tonight.”
I beamed. “It drives nice too, doesn’t it?”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw you melting into the heated seat on the way over here,” I teased.
“It’s cold out,” he grumped.
I laughed. I loved pushing his buttons. It was one of my favorite things. It was also a really great way to avoid the conversation I knew we needed to have.
It wasn’t even that Iwantedto avoid it… I was just nervous. Afraid that I’d really screwed things up between us. It gave me a small inkling of how Archer might have felt ten years ago when he rejected me that night. He said he regretted it almost instantly. I also understood why it seemed so hard to try and make it right.
Why was it so much easier to push someone away than to pull them close?
“We should probably get this into the gazebo. People are waiting,” I murmured.
He’d been late getting to the bistro. Late enough that I’d started to worry he wasn’t coming at all.
But then his mint-green Ford turned onto Main Street, and I practically sagged in relief.
