Page 78 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
“You little... Why didn’t you tell me you were coming by car?”
“We rented it.” Remembering Slade, she looped an arm around her father’s waist. “Dad, I’d like you to meet Slade Garner.”
Her father stepped forward. “Don Griffin,” he said, and extended his hand. “So you’re Shelly’s surprise. Welcome to our home. I’d say it was about time my daughter brought a young man home for her father to meet.”
Four
Slade extended his hand to Shelly’s father and grinned. “I believe you’ve got me confused with sourdough bread.”
“Sourdough bread?”
“Dad, Slade and I met this morning on the plane.” Shelly’s cheeks brightened in a self-conscious pink flush.
“When it looked like the flight wasn’t going to make it to Seattle, we rented the car,” Slade explained further.
A curious glint darkened Don Griffin’s deep blue eyes as he glanced briefly from his daughter to Slade and ran a hand through his thick thatch of dark hair. “It’s a good thing you did. The last time I phoned the airline, I learned your plane still hadn’t left Portland.”
“Slade has an important meeting first thing tomorrow.” Her eyes were telling him that she was ready to make the break. She could say goodbye and wish him every happiness. Their time together had been too short for any regrets. Hadn’t it?
“There’s no need for us to stand out here in the cold discussing your itinerary,” her father inserted and motioned toward the warm lights of the house.
Slade hesitated. “I should be getting into Seattle.”
“Come in for some coffee first,” her father invited.
“Shelly?” Slade sought her approval. The unasked question in his eyes pinned her gaze.
“I wish you would.”Fool!her mind cried out. It would be better to sever the relationship quickly, sharply and without delay, before he had the opportunity to touch her tender heart. But her heart refused to listen to her mind.
“For that matter,” her father continued, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents between Slade and Shelly, “stay for dinner.”
“I couldn’t. Really.” Slade made a show of glancing at his wristwatch.
“We insist,” Shelly said quickly. “After hauling this bread from here to kingdom come, the least I can offer you is a share of it.”
To her astonishment Slade grinned, his dark eyes crinkling at the edges. The smile was both spontaneous and personal—a reminder of the joke between them. “All right,” he agreed.
“That settles it, then.” Don grinned and moved to the rear of the car while Slade extracted Shelly’s suitcase and the huge tote bag. “What’s all this?”
“Presents,” she said.
“For me?”
“Well, who else would I be bringing gifts for?”
“A man. It’s time you started thinking about a husband.”
“Dad!” If her cheeks had been bright pink previously, now the color deepened into fire-engine red. In order to minimize further embarrassment, she returned to the car and rescued the bread. Her father carried the gifts inside, while Slade brought up the rear with her carry-on.
The house contained all the warmth and welcome that she always associated with home. She paused just inside the open doorway, her gaze skimming over the crackling fireplace and the large array of family photos that decorated the mantel. Ol’ Dan, their thirteen-year-old Labrador, slept on the braided rug and did little more than raise his head when Don and Slade entered the house. But on seeing Shelly, the elderly dog got slowly to his feet and with difficulty ambled to her side, tail wagging. She set the bread aside and fell to her knees.
“How’s my loyal mangy mutt?” she asked, affectionately ruffling his ears and hugging him. “You keeping Dad company these days?”
“Yeah, but he’s doing a poor job of it,” her father complained loudly. “Ol’ Dan still can’t play a decent game of chess.”
“Doyouplay?” Slade asked her father as his gaze scanned the living room for a board.
“Forty years or more. What about you?”
