Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [58]
“Oh…I didn’t think to look.”
“Let me finish my coffee and shower, and then I’ll take a peek under the tree with you.”
“You’re on,” she said and backed out of the room before she could do something silly and completely out of character—like throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. With the two of them alone in Emily’s cozy house, the atmosphere had become more and more intimate….
A half hour later, Faith had dressed and was frying bacon for their breakfast when Charles appeared. He wore a dress shirt and sweater vest.
“Merry Christmas!” he said again.
“You, too.” She made an effort not to look at him for fear she’d be too easily distracted.
“So, did you check under the tree?” Charles asked.
“Not yet.” She slid the bacon onto the platter and wiped her hands.
“You look very nice,” Charles said. “I generally don’t notice much of anything before ten. I don’t know if it’s the day or if it’s you.” His comment was as casual as if he were discussing the weather.
“Me?” she whispered.
“You’re an attractive woman.” He cleared his throat. “Very attractive.”
“Oh.”
“It’s true.”
Flustered now, she offered him a tentative smile. “Breakfast is ready.” She carried the crisp bacon over to the kitchen table, which she’d already set using a poinsettia-covered tablecloth. The juice was poured and the toast made; scrambled eggs were heaped in a dish. A quiche lorraine sat in the center of the table. And she’d brewed fresh coffee, the aroma pervading the room. She’d prepared far more than the two of them could possibly eat, but she supposed the quiche would make a nice lunch tomorrow.
“I’m so glad it’s snowing,” she said excitedly.
“Why wouldn’t it snow today? It’s snowed every day since I got here.”
“Not true,” she countered, but then admitted he was right. It had snowed every day at some point. Watching the thick white flakes drifting down was a holiday ideal. She felt like a child again.
“Oh, my,” she said, unaware that she’d spoken aloud.
“What?”
Faith shook her head, not wanting to answer. She realized that she’d forgotten what it felt like to be happy. It was as though a fog had lifted and the world had become newly vivid, the colors clear and pure. Her gaze flew across the table and she looked at Charles. She knew immediately that he was responsible for her change of attitude. Spending these days with him had opened her to the joy of the season and the promise of love. The divorce had robbed her of so much, shredded her self-confidence, undercut trust and faith and made her doubt herself. It had taken her a long time to deal with the loss, but she was stronger now. She could expect good things in her life. She could anticipate happiness.
“Faith?” he asked with a quizzical expression. “What is it?”
She glanced quickly away and dismissed his question with another shake of her head. “Nothing important.”
“Then tell me.”
She smiled. “I was just thinking how happy I am to be here, having breakfast with you on Christmas morning.”
Charles let the comment rest between them for a long moment. “With me?”
She giggled because he sounded so shocked. “Yes, Charles, with you. Is that so strange?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m not accustomed to anyone enjoying my company.”
“Well, I do.” She reached for an extra strip of bacon to create a distraction for herself.
Charles set his fork aside and sat back in his chair, staring across the table as if she’d taken his breath away.
Faith grew uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “What is it?” she demanded.
He grinned. “I was just thinking that I could love you.”
“Charles!”
“This isn’t a joke—I’m completely sincere. I’m halfway in love with you already. But I know what you’re going to say.”
“I’m sure you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” he insisted. “You’re thinking it’s much too soon and I couldn’t possibly know my feelings yet. Two weeks from now, our encounter will be just a memory.”
That was what she was thinking, although Faith badly wanted to stay in touch with Charles once they parted. But there was more to her reaction than that.
“I’m just so happy,” she