Page 73 of A Cozy Christmas Blizzard
Slade gave an expressive shrug. “I thought flowers would be a nice touch myself, but she claims they make her sneeze. Besides, roses at Christmas are ridiculously expensive. A total waste of money, when you think about it.”
“Total,” Shelly echoed under her breath. She was beginning to get a clearer and far less flattering picture of Slade Garner and his insanely-practical fiancée.
“Did you say something?” A hint of challenge echoed in his cool tone.
“Not really.” Leaning forward, she fiddled with the radio, trying to find some decent music. “What’s Margaret do, by the way?”
“She’s a systems analyst.”
Shelly arched both eyebrows in mute comment. That was exactly the type of occupation she would have expected from a nuts-and-bolts person like Margaret. “What about children?”
“What about them?”
She realized that she was prying, but she couldn’t help herself. “Are you planning a family?”
“Of course. We’re hoping that Margaret can schedule a leave of absence in eight years.”
“Eight years?” She looked at him assessingly. “You’ll be nearly thirty!” The exclamation burst from her lips before she could hold it back.
“Thirty-one, actually. Do you disapprove of that, too?”
She swallowed uncomfortably and paid an inordinate amount of attention to the radio, frustrated because she couldn’t find a single radio station. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to sound so judgmental. It’s just that—”
“It’s just that you’ve never been goal oriented.”
“But I have,” she argued. “I’ve always wanted to be a court reporter. It’s a fascinating job.”
“I imagine that you’re good at anything you put your mind to.”
The unexpected compliment caught her completely off guard. “What a nice thing to say.”
“If you put your mind to it, you might figure out why you can’t get the radio working.”
Her gaze flickered automatically from Slade to the dial. Before she could comment, he reached over and pushed a button. “It’s a bit difficult to hear anything when the radio isn’t turned on.”
“Right.” She’d been too preoccupied with asking about Margaret to notice. Color flooded into her cheeks at her own stupidity. Slade flustered her as no man had in a long time. Shehad the feeling that, in a battle of words, he would parry her barbs as expertly as a professional swordsman.
She found a station playing Christmas carols, and music filled the car. Warm and snug, she leaned back against the headrest and hummed along, gazing at the falling flakes.
“With the snow and all, it really feels like Christmas,” she murmured, fearing more questions would destroy the tranquil mood.
“It’s caused nothing but problems.”
“I suppose, but it’s so lovely.”
“Of courseyouthink it’s lovely. You’re sitting in a warm chauffeur-driven car, listening to ‘Silent Night.’”
“Grumble, grumble, grumble,” she tossed back lightly. “Bah, humbug!”
“Bah, humbug,” he echoed, and then, to her astonishment, he laughed.
The sound of it was rich and full, and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing with him. When the next song was a Bing Crosby Christmas favorite, she sang along. Soon Slade’s deep baritone joined her clear soprano in sweet harmony. The lyrics spoke of dreaming, and her mind conjured up her own longings. Despite his rough edges, she found herself comfortable with this man, when she’d expected to find a dozen reasons to dislike him. Instead, she’d discovered that she was attracted to someone who was engaged to another woman. A man whose responses showed he was intensely loyal. That was the usual way her life ran. She was attracted to a man she couldn’t have, experiencing feelings that would lead nowhere. She wasn’t even entirely sure that her insights about him were on base. As uncharitable as it sounded, she might be overestimating his appeal simply because she considered him too good for someone like Margaret.
Disgusted with herself, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the window. The only sounds were the soft melodies playing on the radio and the discordant swish of the windshield wipers. Occasionally a gust of wind would cause the car to veer slightly. She decided to ignore her troublesome feelings and lost herself in thoughts of Christmas.
The next thing she knew, she was being shaken by a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Shelly.”
With a start she bolted upright. “What’s wrong?”
