Page 40 of Cooped Up for Christmas

It seemed as though she was listening, she was nodding and making I see kinds of noises, but then she took off on a completely different tangent. “And my parents.” She gusted. “Hah! They just laugh and say it’s puppy love. They say someone my age can’t possibly know it’s true love, but they don’t know.”

“I know.”

She looked up at me then, all young and fresh-faced and beautiful and in love. I remembered the feeling. I missed it.

“I fell in love with a boy when I was your age too, you know.”

“You did?”

I nodded. “Right here, in fact.” My smile wobbled.

“Did it work out for you?”

I had to tell her the truth. “No.”

“Why not?”

Why not? Good question. “I’m not sure. I was young. He was young. But now…” Now, we weren’t kids anymore.

“But now?” Farley prompted. How quickly her attention leap-frogged from her own melodrama to mine. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that last part out loud. “Well?”

I blew out a breath. Maybe I needed someone to talk to too. Someone who didn’t know me and really didn’t give a shit about me. “Okay. Well. It just so happens that the guy I met here, loved here—when I was your age—just walked back into my life. How do you like them apples?”

For some reason, she grinned.

I frowned at her.

“I think it’s amazing,” she said; her face welled with the glow of all that youthy stuff.

“How is it amazing?” Oh my God, it had been horrible seeing him again and… Well, maybe horrible wasn’t the word. Difficult? Yes. Challenging? Certainly. Exciting?

Probably that too, damn his hide.

“What’s amazing?” She made this thing I can only guess was known as the Farley Face. “Because you have another chance! It’s not too late! It’s never too late. That’s what I mean. Even when you’re super-old, there is still hope for love.”

“Wait. Did you just call me super-old?”

“Ah! It’s so romantic. Don’t you see? If Jamison and I can’t be together now…there’s always tomorrow. Oh, yes. Tomorrow.”

Frankly, I was surprised she didn’t burst into song just then, but she did leap from her chair, twirl around the hearth, and then dance from the room. She paused at the door, looked back at me, and cheerily called, “Thank you, Servant Lady,” before she disappeared.

I barely had time to stand before an ominous chuckle surrounded me. I whirled to find Coop standing there, in the shadows, leaning lazily on the other doorjamb. My heart did a swan dive into my stomach. Well, crap.

“That was a good story,” he said, reaching out a hand to help me up.

“Thank you.” I gave him a mock bow. “All part of the service.”

He ignored my blasé tone. “Was it true?”

“Was what true?” Hadn’t he learned by now that I never paid attention to things I said?

He stepped closer. Closer still. “Were you in love with me?”

My lungs froze. Shit. Had I said that? What had I been thinking? “I think you misheard.”

“No. I didn’t.” He tipped his head and surveyed me. “Were you in love with me? Because I was in love with you.”

“And Barbie. Don’t forget Barbie.”