Read Risking It All for Love (A Christmas in Snow Valley Romance) for Free Online Page A

“Families. Enough said.”
    “You too?”
    A shaft of moonlight glinted on his
white teeth. “That’s a story for another day. Drive safely, Miss Jessica Mason.
I’m pleased to officially meet you.”
    “I suppose I wasn’t particularly
friendly at the cemetery today, either. I was—I just was visiting—”
I stopped speaking, not wanting to share Michael with anyone.
    “No need to apologize. I came up to you because you looked like
you’d frozen to the ground. I wasn’t sure who you were at first. But it’s
understandable. You and Michael Grant were close.”
    I stiffened. A strange roar filled my ears hearing Michael’s name
on his lips and I spun toward him. “How did you know—?”
    “Um, I saw the headstone.”
    I didn’t answer—hoping he would drop the subject.
    “I often walk through that section of the graveyard from Main to
the church. It’s a beautiful path along there with the lines of cottonwoods and
oak trees.”
    I just nodded, annoyed that he would presume to know the
relationship Michael and I had. “You don’t know anything, Mr. Douglas. Don’t
you dare talk about him.”
    “Now it’s my turn to apologize. I never meant anything hurtful.
Please know that.”
    I shrugged, feeling my nose drip just a little from the cold. I
walked more briskly, trying not to slip on the ice.
    Once I reached my car, I jabbed the key into the lock and swung
the door wide.
    James Douglas held the door open while I climbed in.
    “Good night,” I said, reaching for the handle as my family’s
vehicle pulled out of the empty parking lot.
    I glanced up and James Douglas’ eyes were dark and meaningful.
There was a long pause.
    “I’m afraid I keep sticking my foot in my mouth around you.”
    I shrugged. “Just trying to avoid religious platitudes.”
    “Why would I say something like that?”
    “I heard more than enough to last a lifetime after—after
Michael died.” His name stuck in my throat. Painful. I swallowed hard, biting
my lips.
    “I’m not going to say any trite clichés. I’d rather cut my tongue
out.”
    I snorted again, but the laugh suddenly died in my throat as my
neck prickled. The way he was watching me was so . . . so unexplainable. So
tender.
    “Jessica, I’m serious when I say that I would love to get to know
you. Your dancing was really beautiful.”
    I snorted, because I knew my stupid fall was unprecedented. Some
of the corps ballet girls tripped or slipped during rehearsals but never during
a performance. If my director had seen me tonight, he’d give me a pink slip. No
second thoughts.
    “Don’t laugh at me,” he went on.
    “You have no idea what you’re saying. Goodnight,” I said again.
    “Travel safe, Miss Mason.”
    “Don’t call me Miss Mason, either.”
    “Alright. Jessica.”
    I shook my head, wanting to bite his head off. I almost told
him not to call me that either, but I stopped. I wasn’t normally so rude.
    I gave myself a list of excuses. I was tired. I was embarrassed. I
was still grieving. I was regretting ever coming home.
    But I was also, suddenly, wanting to burrow my face into his warm
wool coat and sob my eyes out. But why, why, why, would I do something like
that? It must be his whole “pastor” demeanor. A childish reaction to the running
away episode at the cemetery when I thought he’d been stalking me.
    I hardly knew James Douglas, but I was already completely
overwhelmed by the man.
    Slowly, I shut the door and rolled out of the parking lot.
    I could see James Douglas’s car lights following behind me.
    At first I was just annoyed again,
but then realized that it was comforting to know I had a safety net behind me
in case I slid off the road.
    The snow had stopped and, as I
pulled onto the interstate to head the last couple miles into Snow Valley, it
became apparent several inches of fresh snow had fallen during the late
afternoon and evening. I saw skid marks, and a car sitting askew on the left
side going the wrong direction.