I want to press, but I’m not sure this is the time. “Well, the only drama in this car is the weather, and that’s outside.”
“Don’t forget Powerfluff if she wakes up.”
“Right.” I glance in the rearview mirror to see that the cat is sleeping. “Just enjoy the ride, and don’t worry about what’s coming up.”
“I’ll try.”
We continue our drive in companionable silence, the snow sweeping along the windows like ghostly brushstrokes. I don’t regret offering to help Abby, and I want to laugh about being so dramatic about how this drive could go wrong.
She points on her side of the street. “My parents’ house is right there.”
Twinkling lights illuminate the porch of a two-story house that appears to be typical of the other houses in the neighborhood, with tall trees and sidewalks that will need shoveling in the morning. Smoke rises from the chimney.
I turn the car off, ignoring the pounding of my heart. I wish her parents lived farther away so our drive would’ve lasted longer. “We made it. In one piece.”
“Yeah.” I spot a hint of regret flickering beneath her smile.
“Do you want to…” The moment stretches between us, thick with unsaid words.
She shifts in her seat, gathering her belongings in the back seat. “I should get going.”
“Wait,” I blurt, surprising even myself. “I’ll help you carry in your things so you only have to make one trip.”
Her eyes widen slightly.
“I don’t mind,” I add as if I need to convince her.
Abby smiles at me. Her smiling at me is all I’ve wanted for Christmas. Maybe my good deed really did put me on Santa’s nice list.
“That would be great.” Her smile doesn’t dim. “Thanks.”
Out of the car, I shiver. The temperature seems to have dropped since we left the office. I grab her suitcase with onehand and hold Powerfluff’s crate with the other. Abby carries the bag of presents and a tote bag, and then her face dims. That isn’t the reaction I expected.
“Thanks again for the ride, Mr. Barrington,” she says as we reach the porch, and I narrowly avoid the decorative snowflakes dangling above us. “It means more than you know.”
I want to tell her to call me John, but that would be…wrong. “You’re welcome. I hope…”
The front door swings open. A woman with frosted hair wipes her hands on the front of her apron. “Abby, you’re here, and you brought someone with you. What a surprise. Come in out of the cold. I have just the thing to warm you both up.”
“You can come in if you want,” Abby whispers. “It’s cold out here.”
Why not? The least I can do is carry her things all the way inside. I follow her into the entryway, where cinnamon scents the air and Christmas music plays.
“Ed, come on,” the woman yells. “Abby is home, and she brought her boyfriend.”
Boyfriend?
I glance at Abby, who has a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, one that most likely matches mine. What have we just walked into?
CHAPTER FOUR
Abby
What is happening?
I stand, frozen in the entryway of my childhood home. My panic is palpable, rushing through my body like an avalanche. Mom’s word echoes in my brain.
Boyfriend…
