Christmas in Angel Harbor - Jeannie Moon Page 0,39

be if she didn’t?

Caitlyn was the type of customer Jane loved best. She didn’t spend a lot of money, but she was there often, using the store as a respite, a place to bring her girls when she needed a break in the routine. It was less structured than the library, and Jane was happy to offer the young mother, who had no family in the area, some friendship.

She wasn’t the only one, either. There was a group of retired teachers who came twice a month to have coffee and catch up. She’d had her book clubs, and the writers’ group that utilized the meeting room every month. There were so many people who had become friends, and she valued those connections more than she ever thought she would.

Nights like this were exactly what she needed when her brain was filled with too much stuff. Turning her attention back to her work, Jane transitioned to the new color. It was tricky, but Jane loved the calm, repetitive hand motion crocheting provided her. It was perfect for a quiet night at the store, and tonight was certainly that.

She’d had one customer come in for a book they’d put on order, but other than that the place was dead. She was sorry her part-timer was sick, but she wouldn’t have had anything to do if she had come in.

That gave Jane some cherished time to think. No people, just her, some soft music, tea and her yarn.

She was trying to focus on the good things coming up. Thanksgiving was less than a week away, Tara would be hearing from her early decision school very soon, and her mother would be home from her trip. Then Christmas would go into overdrive, and she wouldn’t have time to think about anything until after New Year’s Day.

Shaking off the negative thread that wound through her brain, Jane focused on her stitches. Her fingers worked, pulling the soft gray-blue yarn through a series of twists and loops. It was predictable, and the pretty Celtic weave was coming out better than she expected.

The bell over the door jingled, pulling Jane out of her work. As soon as she looked up, she saw Danny coming toward her. Her heart, the dirty traitor, skipped a beat as his smile bloomed. Lord, that smile was everything.

“Are you by yourself?” he asked, looking toward the back room. “Where’s Chloe?”

How could she not be affected by a man who loved her dog? “I am. Tracy took Chloe home around dinnertime, and my clerk didn’t come in tonight. She’s sick. It’s probably just as well. Not that she’s sick, but it’s been pretty quiet, especially for a Friday night. I might actually close early.”

“Yeah?” He unzipped his jacket. “Do you do that often?”

“Close early? Rarely, but I’m tired and town is dead except for the theater.” Noticing his bag, she backtracked. “I can stay, though, if you want to work.”

“Not necessary.” He leaned over and looked at what she was doing, grazing his fingers over the blanket. “This is nice. Soft.”

“Thank you. It’s for a…for a friend. She’s having a baby boy.”

Danny tucked his thumb under the strap on his shoulder, giving it a tug into place. “Look,” he said, “I should tell you, um, I didn’t come in to work.”

“No?” A little shudder raced through her. Jane knew what she wanted him to say, but she didn’t dare hope. “Then why are you here?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, just a second before he spoke. His eyes sparked, giving her a look at the depth of what he was feeling and this time, instead of his hand brushing the soft yarn of the blanket she was making, it landed on hers.

Warmth tickled through her, fluid and comforting. With just that single, intimate touch, Jane was lost.

“I came to see you.”

“Ohhh.” Her breath caught in her chest, while her heart patted rapidly along. “I…um…you did?”

“Yes.” He looked away, and then back. “I feel like a kid. I mean, I thought you would be busy, and I was going to pretend to write. Is that stupid? I sound like a stalker.”

Jane shook her head. How many times when she was a smitten teen had she stayed late with her dad just to be close to Danny? Should she tell him? “You’re not a stalker,” was all she could muster.

“I like being around you. You…” With a pained look he glanced up at the ceiling, then back at her. “This is going to sound strange, because