Bayou Christmas (Cypress Cove #2) - Suzanne Jenkins Page 0,44
it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. Then you can enlighten me.”
“Gotcha.”
“It’s got to do with me painting the cottage.”
“I had a feeling that would end badly,” Rose said.
“Yes, well, I am an adult woman, and I’m not asking for permission from my boyfriend to work on the house I paid for. Now I’ve ruined the surprise when he tells you his version.”
“No, I’m glad you told me. Here he comes. I’ll talk later.”
She hung up, and Maggie just shook her head. All couples in love had been accounted for except Dave and Amber, and she really didn’t want to hear from them.
Early Saturday morning at her apartment, Amber could be found on the balcony with a canine anatomy book, a cup of coffee, wearing her glasses with her hair up in a bun.
“You’re so cute,” Dave said. “You look just like a college student.”
“You’re up,” she said, stretching to kiss him, noticing he had his uniform on. “I’m a college student about ten years too late.”
“It’s fine,” he replied. “I’m going to leave you alone today. There’s a case brewing in the parish, and I want to get a head start on it. You can catch me at the station.”
“I won’t even ask what it is,” she said, frowning.
“It’s no one you know, okay? Just relax.”
“As long as it’s not me, I really don’t care,” she replied. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
They held hands for the short stroll. “I guess I’ll see you later?”
“You’ll see me later,” he answered, taking her in his arms. “You’ll see me forever. How’s that?”
“I’m ready.”
“I think we should get married. We know the worst about each other already, so it can only get better, right?”
“Ha! Right. Okay, if this is a proposal, the answer is yes. I’ll tell my dad so he can pay for a wedding because we’re not going to the justice of the peace.”
“I never thought of a wedding, but if that’s what you want, I’m all for it.”
“Unless you want to be involved in the planning, I won’t bug you about it.”
“Okay, but I don’t mind. When can we do it?”
“I have a month off next summer. I don’t really have time to plan anything until then.”
“Whatever you want.”
He hugged her once more. “I’ll call you when I get a break.”
She watched him get into his truck and drive off through the cypress trees. Back inside, she plugged in the Christmas tree and smiled. It was truly a Charlie Brown tree, skinny and a little lopsided from being packed in with the other saplings, but it was their first tree. Grabbing her phone, she took a picture of it and sent it in a group text to her mother and father and sisters and friends.
Our first tree. I’m getting married next summer. Call for details.
A few miles away in the LeBlanc residence, Kelly Casson and her four-year-old son, Danny, stood together on a ladder to place the star on top of a ten-foot-tall blue spruce that Ted had found at an expensive nursery north of town.
“Smile!” he said, aiming a real camera containing film at them. “This will be our first Christmas, so every photo op will be taken advantage of.”
He’d retrieved boxes of lavish decorations his mother had left behind when they moved into their retirement community, and they’d spent the better part of the week decorating the entire house and yard.
“What will your parents use for their tree?”
“My mother is into the latest trends now. Whatever she sees on Pinterest that catches her eye will be on her tree. She’ll dump the previous year’s crap on me. I hope you’re up for a visit because we’ll go there on Christmas Eve, and they all come here on Christmas Day.”
Kelly blanched, grimacing. “Who’s they all?”
“Mother and Father and my three sisters, their husbands and kids. I think I have eight nieces and nephews, so Danny will have lots of little cousins to play with.”
“I’ll have to fit my family in there somewhere,” she said, still not convinced they’d last until Christmas. It was sounding more and more unlikely the more she was hearing what her obligations were. He was going all in.
He had the nerve to chuckle at that. No wonder the guy had mental problems.
“You’ll see. It’s very congenial. You won’t have to buy your son another piece of clothes or toys for the rest of his life after this. My parents are generous to a fault.”
That didn’t exactly make her feel better. It sounded