Page 30 of A Christmas Mystery

“Me either.”

That’s probably true. It was an accident on both our parts. It happens, and it doesn’t mean anything except we had a long day, ate a good meal, and were relaxing on the couch.

All these tumultuous, terrifying fluttery feelings expanding inside me are unnecessary and inappropriate.

I really need to pull it together.

Half my hair has slipped out of my braid as it dried, and the loose strands are hanging down on either side of my face. I drop my head so I can hide my expression behind it.

He leans over. Very gently pushes some of the hair back behind my ear. “Maya?”

“I’m fine. Sorry. Just trying to wake up.”

I’m fully awake already. There’s no way I could keep sleeping through this uproar in my head.

“Are you sure that’s all it is? Because nothing that happened last night is—”

“Nothing happened,” I choke out, cutting off his words because I’m so scared of how he might finish that sentence.

He’s silent for more than a moment. Then he says, “I know that. We fell asleep.”

His tone is almost imperceptibly different, but I can feel the shift. He feels cooler. More withdrawn.

And it hurts as much as anything has.

But it’s safer that way. It’s the only way I’m ever going to get over this emotional storm rushing through me. “Sorry to be weird.” I try very hard to sound natural, and I almost succeed. “I feel all confused and discombobulated. But I really do need to get going. Claude and Ed have been by themselves since yesterday morning.”

“Oh no. I didn’t think about them. Are they okay on their own for so long?”

“Yeah. They have a litter box and water, but they usually get a little bedtime snack, and they won’t be happy about missing out on it. Plus they’re not used to me being gone for so long. I need to get back.”

“I’ll drive you.” He’s already getting up, pulling down his shirt and yanking up his trousers since they got disarrayed as he slept.

“You don’t need to—”

“Yes, I do. Your truck is still at the country club, and it’s not even four in the morning. You can’t walk all that way on your own. I’ll take you home for now, and then we’ll go get your truck sometime tomorrow.”

“You have to work, don’t you? I’m awake enough to be fine driving home. Maybe you can just drive me to my truck if you don’t mind.”

It looks like he’s about to object, but then he must change his mind. He gives a curt nod and a grunt that’s probably acquiescence.

I go to the bathroom, using it and then changing into my dress. I leave Theo’s sweats folded neatly on the sink counter.

He’s ready to go when I come back, keys in his hand. We walk down to his midsized, moderately priced SUV in silence, and then—also in silence—he drives me to the country club where I parked my truck yesterday afternoon.

He gets out as I do, standing and waiting as I unlock the driver’s door and climb in. I look over at him, growing more and more upset.

It’s like yesterday didn’t even happen. He’s back to being the tense, scowly, withdrawn guy I’ve always known.

I don’t want that guy. I want him to be the man he was yesterday.

But that’s the most dangerous person he could be. To me.

“Okay. Thanks for everything yesterday.”

“You’re welcome,” he mutters, his eyes focused on the pavement at his feet. “It was nothing. No big deal.”

It didn’t feel like nothing to me, but maybe it did to him. I’m the one so needy all of a sudden that I’m trying to transform a relationship that’s never even been close into some sort of romance.

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