“Lass, I had taken out my contacts because I’d gotten something in my eye when I’d been unloading. I wear contacts most of the time, so if it looked like I was scowling at you, it was because I couldn’t see you clearly enough to know when to wave back.”
“You mean you couldn’t see me waving?”
He pulled me closer. “Not a bit of it. You could’ve been the Easter Bunny himself and I wouldn’t have recognized you from that far away.”
Well, that explained the scowl I’d gotten, but it was my turn to chuckle now. “Why is the Easter Bunny always a boy? I mean, where does he get all those eggs from?”
“You think he’s actually a girl?” He closed one eye and looked down at me, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Maybe he just has a lot of chicken friends who give him the eggs. Did you ever think aboutthat?”
I suppressed a smile. “Chicken friends. Gotcha,” I mumbled into his chest, surprised at the weird little side trip our conversation had taken. Maybe the cold was starting to affect us more than I thought.
The silence drew out between us again, until I felt his arms briefly squeeze me tighter, then release a bit.
“We’ve had a tough time of it, haven’t we?” he said. “I don’t normally tick people off until they’ve gotten to know me much more than you have.”
“Well, well. Lucky me.”
Another long pause, and then he said, “I’m sorry for how things started out for us.” He reached down and pulled Angus up on his lap, and I let the little dog burrow into the warmth under Connor’s jacket. For once, Angus the Terrible seemed perfectly content to not cause chaos.
I ran my fingers through the little dog’s fur, then angled my head a bit to look up at Connor. “It’s okay.”
Connor chuckled. “Are you back to just saying what you’re supposed to instead of what you really mean?”
“Shut up, you,” I mumbled against his chest.
My legs were so cold they felt like they’d been dunked in a frozen pond, but the rest of me was toasty warm.
And comfortable. At least, for now.
But I knew he wasn’t. Even as muscular as he was, he’d only be able to stand the bitter cold for a short while.
For a few seconds, we sat there in silence.
“Angus isn’t very well trained,” he said, breaking the silence. He sounded apologetic. “He’s not even my dog, really. My wife brought him home one day out of the blue.”
I stiffened in sudden shock and felt very guilty for how much I was enjoying being held in this man’s arms. “You’remarried?” I hadn’t heard anything about him having a wife. Obviously, the town gossips weren’t doing their job.
“Well, Iwasmarried, a while back.” He shifted a bit. “She died in an accident about four years ago.”
A wave of sympathy washed over me. “Oh, Connor. I’m sorry.” I thought through his answer for a moment. “No children?”
He shook his head, then softly said, “She couldn’t have children.”
Tears tingled in the corners of my eyes at the wistful sadness in his voice. “I’m so sorry, Connor.” I looked up and studied the man inches from me. A muscle jumped in his jaw, and I reached up to soothe him with my fingertips. The minute my hand touched his face, he closed his eyes and leaned into my palm. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He was so beautiful, even in his grief.
“Angus is all I have left of Sarah,” he whispered. “It’s also why the little beast growls at all females, I’m convinced. He’s never liked anyone since she passed. He was kind of her spoiled baby.” He released a clipped laugh. “I’m not sure what I’d do if he everdidgive his approval.”
At that moment, Angus lifted his head and wiggled his way out from between Connor and me. I giggled at his antics, but then stilled as he yipped and then stretched up to lick my cheek.
Maybe it was an apology, or maybe it was surrender, but whatever it was, I was ready to accept it.
While wondering at the odd look that suddenly passed through Connor’s eyes.
20
His expression silenced my laughter immediately. As I gazed up into Connor’s eyes, I realized he wasn’t angry. No, from the look on his face, he was just as stunned as I was. Had Angus just shown he approved of me?
Connor cleared his throat as he reached up and scratched Angus under the chin. “Look, I have no excuse for my behavior the last few weeks. I’ve been adrift these past four years, trying to decide where I belong. Sarah and I had built our life in San Francisco, and even though my business was there, I no longer wanted to stay in the city after she died. There are just too many memories.” He smiled at me. “Sarah loved Christmas, and so when I discovered there was a town that embraced the holiday all year round, I felt like that was a sign. Like it was okay to move on with my life.” He let out a ragged sigh. “So, I put someone else in charge of my factory and took a leap of faith and moved here.”
