The Christmas Oaks (Laurel Holidays #1) by V.L. Locey

Author:V.L. Locey [Locey, V.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I woke up to coffee. The aroma was strong. One eye blinking open then the other, I focused on Parson standing beside the bed with a mug of coffee.

“Morning. I made coffee and oatmeal with granola.”

“You’re going to spoil me.” I sat up, the blanket gliding down my chest to pool on my lap. “Who will dote on me when I go home? My cat makes terrible coffee and his oatmeal is always lumpy.”

That got a meager chuckle from him. Maybe I shouldn’t talk about leaving. Right. Change of topic.

“How did you sleep?” I enquired, taking a sip of nicely creamed coffee then sighing in bliss.

“Good.”

“Well I’m glad,” I said then flashed him a sleepy smile.

“Are you still going to town?”

“Yeah, I am. Deb will arrive on dog sled with the Mounties if I don’t check in today.”

He bit down on the inside of his lower lip. I waited for him to say what he needed to say.

“Can I come along?”

That was not at all what I’d been expecting. But it was welcome news. “Yes! Of course. Let me get some caffeine and oatmeal into me, wash my face, and we can head out. Make a day of it! Do lunch and shop. Pick up some more batteries and maybe some snack cakes. I miss those little butterscotch cakes.”

“I only really want to go to the thrift shop.” He seemed extremely stressed.

“Well, we can for sure do that. We do need some odds and ends…”

“I just…” he shifted from one foot to the other, his brow deeply grooved. “Maybe some supplies. Okay, yeah, supplies. Then we come back home.”

“After we meet up with Deb for a bite.” He began chewing on his lip in earnest. “You remember my sister. It’ll just be a small meal, the three of us. She worries about me.”

His gaze shuttered down for a moment, the gray growing cloudy as he bit and gnawed.

“Just Deb. No one else. Then we come home. Right?”

“Yes, absolutely.” I grinned up at him but the man was already out the door, a cloud of anxiety left in his wake.

We moved around each other in what could only be described as a warm distance. Parson wasn’t angry or rude, he was just stressed, and that stress showed in ways that I was just starting to understand. He was considerably quieter than normal. When I would touch him in some small way, say a hand to his back as I slid around him to get the creamer, he would try to smile but there was no joy in his gaze. Not like last night when those granite eyes had been brimming with affection and happiness. I hoped that by the end of lunch with Deb there would be some small joy to be seen on his face.

The ride to my car was incredible. Not because Parson was behind me, his arms around my waist, his weight on my back, but also because of the beauty of winter. The wind had died down, the sky was summer lake-blue, and the temps had climbed a bit.

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