True Love at Silver Creek Ranch(58)
“You’re on,” Monica said. “What about that scene of melodrama?”
“I felt so bad for Whitney,” Emily said. “She seems very nice. We never spoke when she was looking into purchasing my building, but I wish I’d had the chance to introduce myself.”
“I think you’ll get your chance,” Brooke said, linking arms with both her friends for warmth. “With the widows at her side, I won’t be surprised if she goes on the offensive.”
Chapter Thirteen
Once they’d dropped off Whitney at her B&B, Adam drove his grandma slowly through the town streets. Snow had begun to fall softly, muffling the occasional car and emphasizing the beauty of the Christmas decorations. Now that Thanksgiving was over, people seemed to have spent the weekend decorating Main Street when they weren’t shopping, stringing lights from tree to tree like in the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. Each old-fashioned lamppost had a large outline of a poinsettia jutting out toward the street, all lined with red lights for the petals and green for the leaves.
When Grandma didn’t say anything, he eyed her with concern. “Are you feeling okay? Was this too much excitement for you?”
“I’m fine, Adam,” she said briskly. “I am simply so furious with Sylvester Galimi.” She hesitated. “And with myself. I never thought things would . . . blow up like that. I was so convinced we’d tweak his nose a bit maybe, but . . . oh dear. I’ve made things so much worse for Whitney.”
“Sylvester already planned to do that, Grandma. Tonight, he just got a head start.”
“But . . . he was so ugly about it. I never imagined he could insult a young lady like that, when he knew nothin’ about her.”
“Maybe he’s got some reason he’s so upset about lingerie, like he caught his dad wearing it.”
Grandma gasped, then they both laughed. He was glad to ease her unhappiness, even if only for a while.
As they approached the end of town just before the bridge over Silver Creek, Grandma suddenly pointed. “There’s one of the houses being renovated for veterans. Oh my, the new sidin’ looks lovely.”
“I’m surprised you never brought this subject up,” Adam said. “I heard about it from Mrs. Thalberg. It makes me suspicious that you’re up to something.” More than one thing, truth be told, but he was a patient guy. He hadn’t missed how she’d forgotten to use her cane a few times at the diner. He loved her crazy ideas—he loved her. He realized he wasn’t going to leave her again.
“Your suspicions are plain wrong, Adam Desantis. You don’t want to discuss your military life with me, and I thought mentionin’ the veterans’ housin’ plans might upset you.”
“I’m not a fragile doll, Grandma,” he said. “If your committee has an interesting project, you can tell me.”
Even if he didn’t do anything about it.
When there was a soft knock at the cabin door late that night, Ranger put his head up, ears alert. Adam could have vaulted the couch to get to the door.
Brooke stood on the porch, smiling. Innocently, she said, “I’m just dropping something off . . .”
He pulled her inside, closed the door, and put her up against it so he could give her a proper kiss. Her lips were chilly, her coat bulky between them, but she still felt incredibly good, especially when she sank her hands into his hair and held him to her.
Behind him, Ranger gave a woof.
When they came up for air, she looked around Adam. “So you’ve got other company.”
“Ranger decided I shouldn’t be alone at night since you’ve deserted me.”
“It’s been two days,” she said, laughing as she put her hands on his chest and pushed.
“Two long days where I get to see you and not touch.” He backed up a step as she took off her coat and hung it on one of the hooks beside the door.
Her smile faded as she regarded him. “Is our undercover secret not working for you?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just all hot and bothered from those sketches, and I almost threw snowballs at your window.”
Brooke moved toward the fire, petting Ranger, then holding out her hands to the warmth. “I don’t know why you’re hot and bothered—they’re not pornography.” She sent him a smile.
“I don’t need pornography. You’d turn me on wearing cowboy boots and hat and nothing else.”
She held out a hand to him and he joined her in front of the fire. He shooed Ranger away and sat down on the rug, back against the couch, and pulled Brooke down to sit between his legs. She leaned against him with a sigh of contentment.