Read Manic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 6) for Free Online Page A

do what he did.”
    “No, but my job is to know people,” he said. “And hitting the Sheriff’s truck with an RV is just like something George Drutman would do. Reckless and completely selfish.”  
    He took my hand and squeezed it.
    “I’m sorry, Cin,” he said. “And I’m sorry again for scaring you like that.”
    I knew that this was a touchy subject for Daniel. In the past, he’d told me he had problems managing his anger. When it had come to the man who had murdered his brother, Daniel had snapped. He’d beaten him before arresting him, and I knew that while the action seemed just for the things the man had taken away from Daniel, Daniel didn’t see it that way these days. I knew it was a burden he carried with him. A guilt that he felt keenly, even to this day. And while I had never seen that kind of anger in him so long as we’d been together, I always got the feeling that he feared it in himself. As if it was something asleep inside of him that he feared would one day wake-up.
    A look of sadness suddenly crossed his face, like he was thinking the same thing that I was.
    I couldn’t stand seeing him so sad. I couldn’t stand it for a single moment longer.
    I rubbed my fingers against his palm.
    “It’s only because I love you so much,” I said. “And that loser who almost ran me over doesn’t deserve one millisecond of your time.”
    He nodded.
    “I’m not going to say I wouldn’t do it again if I had it to do all over. Not after the things he did and said. He deserved every ounce of what was coming his way.”
    “Yes,” I said. “And he’s still going to get it. Only it’s going to be in court.”
    He wasn’t completely satisfied, but it would have to do.
    “You’re right,” he said. “I know. You’re right.”
    He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He touched my fingers playfully.
    “So, uh, so does this mean that you won’t be at the ball game tonight?”
    “What do you think?”
    He paused, sizing me up.
    “I think that even if you were angry at me, I’d still see you sitting on those bleachers this evening.”
    “Now is that so?” I said, leaning back and crossing my arms. “You sound awfully confident about that.”
    “You know why I’m so confident?”
    “Why?”
    “‘Cuz I’ve got it on good authority that you’ve got it bad for the pitcher,” he said, stepping closer toward me.
    “Now what would give you an idea like that?”
    He smiled a big joker smile and shrugged.
    “Just the way you look at him,” he said. “Sometimes you give him these long looks. Kind of breaks his concentration a little. That’s why he throws a wild pitch here and there.”
    “So that’s the reason. I thought he threw those wild pitches because he was getting old.”
    He leaned his head back in feigned shock.
    “Getting old?! Getting old? Now I know you ain’t talking about me .”
    “I’m just saying,” I said, playfully. “It was a long time ago that you led the Christmas River High School baseball team to a state final.”
    He let out a snort.
    “Honey, I’m like that ol’ barrel of Marionberry ale Warren’s got sitting in the garage,” he said. “I only get better and sweeter with age.”
    I giggled.
    “Well, if you’re wondering whether or not I’ll be at the game tonight, which I believe was the initial question in this conversation, then yes, Mr. Brightman. I’ll be there at the diamond, 7 p.m. sharp.”
    He smiled again.
    “Like I thought,” he said. “You’ve got it bad for the pitcher.”
    “Whatever, old dude,” I said.
    He leaned down.
    “In the meantime, I’ll show you just what this old dude can do.”
    He gave me a smoldering, passionate kiss that knocked my socks off.
    All those customers waiting, all the pies left to make, all the stress of the morning… all of it just melted away like butter dripping down the side of a pie dish.
    “Cin,” he said, pulling away. “How can I convince you to take the