Page 47 of Gloria


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“How did you guess?” Gloria said, laughing in relief. Dinah Jefferson wasn’t wrong when she said that Maria’s artwork had a reputation in Hamlet and, from the way he was grinning, Gloria could tell that he liked her sign. “Hey, I would’ve made it for you if I could, but, trust me, you don’t want to see me around a paintbrush. I’m no artist.”

“No, you just make the best ice cream in the whole world.”

“Well, I don’t know about the whole world. Maybe Hamlet.”

“Same thing,” Franklin told her. He meant it, too. She knew he did. For a man like Franklin Carter, the small town really was the whole world. “I love it, Gloria. It’s perfect. As soon as Christmas is done, I’ll hang it up in front of the garage.”

“You sure it’s not too colorful?” she teased.

“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.”

Grabbing her carefully by her wrist, tugging her closer, Franklin stole another kiss. Gloria savored just how affectionate he was being. For a man who didn’t seem to quite know what to do with a kiss only last week, he was sure as heck getting the hang of it.

“I wanted you to have something real special,” she confessed. “To remind you what Christmas really means.”

A dark look flashed across his handsome face.

Gloria cocked her head. No way she missed that. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

It had to be since, with a frown, he let go of her hand and took a step back.

“Frank?”

“You just said you wanted me to remember the true meaning of Christmas.” He gestured toward his gift. “I love the sign. I really do. It’s great. But that didn’t do it for me.”

Well, wasn’t that a kick in the pants? She thought she came up with the perfect present and she failed miserably.

Okay, then.

Gloria turned to grab the afghan. She had a sudden desire to cover the sign up again. “Oh. Okay.”

Franklin lurched forward, holding his hand out to stop her. The afghan stayed in its place on the couch.

“Gloria, wait. Please. Let me finish, okay? The sign’s a thoughtful, wonderful gift, and no matter what happens in the future, I’ll always treasure it. But more than that? This is the first Christmas in years where I’ve actually… I don’t know… felt any Christmas spirit. And I don’t mean today. It all started the day you built the snowman in front of my house. Then the Santa’s you left, the Frosty’s, the decorations. If any kind of present was gonna keep from being a Scrooge this year, I found it in a beautiful woman with a kind heart and the sweetest tooth I’ve met in my life.”

“Oh.” Gloria turned so that she was facing him fully. “Oh. Franklin. That’s… I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay. I know I’m normally the quiet one. And, God knows, with Vanessa around, I never got the chance to get a word in. Maybe I’ve been saving them all up for you, I don’t know. I just… I had to get that out.”

Her grin was shaky. Not because she didn’t know how to process his heartfelt words, but because she felt

the emotion and the truth so deeply, it was all she could do to keep from bursting into tears.

All she wanted to do was prove to herself that she could still celebrate Christmas even when there wasn’t really anything left for her to celebrate. She gave herself one year to mourn, to grieve, to accept that she was on her own. This year, no matter what, she was going to return to her happy-go-lucky self.

And she did, if only because she was trying to get a reaction out of Franklin. Sure, she knew from the first moment they met that there was a spark of attraction she couldn’t deny, but it didn’t hit her until that very second that he was right.

He said she was the reason behind helping him find his Christmas spirit. Well, didn’t he do that for her, too?

He did. He totally did.

Emotion crashing into her like a wave, tears welled up in her ears. She tried to blink them back.

Franklin’s expression turned horrified. “I made you cry? I’m so sorry. I know it’s soon, and we’ve only just known each other a couple of weeks, but I thought—” He shook his head roughly, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her.“I never wanted you to cry,” he mumbled into the top of her curls.

She buried her face in his flannel, trying as quickly as she could to wipe her eyes before drawing back. “It’s okay. They’re happy tears, promise. It’s just… that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long, long time. I’m glad you found the words, Frank. I think I needed to hear that.”

He rubbed her back. “Then I’m glad I said them. And since I can’t foul this up any more than I have, I guess it’s time I go get your gift. What?” he asked when he jerked her head up to look at him again. “You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”

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