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Her body language had relaxed, and he bent his elbow to lean closer, drawn to her walls lowering. “You don’t believe me?”
“Not even a little bit.”
His gaze dropped to her smirking, full lips. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re jealous.”
“Of a monster truck?” Clark scoffed.
“It’s a lifted Chevy.”
“I’m definitely not jealous of that.”
“My mistake,” she said airily, ducking under his arm.
She opened the front door and he cleared his throat. “Is there a reason I should be?”
Merry reached inside and came back with some dog treats, rattling the bag. Daisy’s head lifted at the sound and she rushed to her mistress, following the bag inside.
“If you’re telling the truth about wanting forgiveness so we can be friends again, then no. There’s not a single solitary reason.”
“And if I want more?”
Merry didn’t answer him, simply held her hand out. “May I keep the letter?”
Clark held it between his hands. “Are you going to post it on the internet?”
“No, Clark, I’m not. But if you don’t trust me…”
He placed the letter in her hand. “I do. Does this mean you might forgive me?”
“I’m considering it.” She shut the door without saying anything more and Clark stood there, realizing he hadn’t gotten the answer he wanted but she hadn’t completely shut him down.
“Have a nice day, Clark,” she said through the intercom speaker.
Clark was done fighting his feelings. He wanted Merry all to himself. The biggest challenge would be convincing her he meant it.
“You too, Merry.”
Chapter 16
Merry
Merry walked up the hill to her parents’ Sunday, Daisy pulling ahead of her, tightening the leash in her hand. The entire Winters family and the farm employees were meeting this morning to take pictures for the 75th anniversary Christmas cards. Her mother decided since the photographer would already be at the farm, they might as well do family pictures. Something Merry was thankful was happening today, instead of yesterday when her face looked like she’d gone several rounds with a boxer.
Of course, she’d still ended up on camera, anyway. She’d agreed to the News Ten interview, and after her story ran about rescuing Daisy Thursday night, her plug about the farm’s anniversary had brought people from all over yesterday. They’d ended up with nearly a hundred prepaid trees to be delivered the day after Thanksgiving, which was still eleven days away. With the exception of the pre-cut delivery and the Festival of Trees, it was the largest order they’d seen in years. Four more papers and news stations had shown up throughout the day, catching her on the worst day, but she’d smiled and told the truth. That everything happened so fast and she’d only done what her parents raised her to do: the right thing. They’d seemed excited about it.
Halfway up the hill her tummy rumbled unhappily. She should have made an omelet like she’d planned, but when she’d found a box on her doorstep with a whole pumpkin pie inside, eggs and vegetables didn’t sound as good as a slice with whipped cream on top.
The note on top read: Forget the last piece, you can have the whole pie. Forgive me yet?
Not completely, but he’d scored a few points with that one.
When she rounded the front of the house, Jace burst out of the door, wearing a Christmas plaid flannel and blue jeans. His hair was spiked up, like someone had run a bucket of gel through the short, golden strands.
“Hey, Merry. Daisy!” At his high-pitched greeting, the puppy yanked with all her strength until she could reach his face with her tongue.
“You look nice, Jace. New clothes?”
