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He was amazing. Too amazing, in fact.
She tried every day to find fault with him so when he returned to Washington, she could recite a list of annoying attributes.
So far, she had: he didn’t like mushrooms—can’t fall for him. He wears a suit—utterly wrong for me.Prefers horrors to chick flicks—no way I could fall in love with him.
And that was it.
Useless.
Amelia had a feeling she was falling, and fast. It had gotten so bad she was even dreaming about him while asleep in his arms.
Ugh.
So annoying.
The truth was, she had no desire to push him away, and when they were apart, she was counting the hours and minutes until they were together again.
Aidan had shown up mid-week, minutes after Jack had left that morning, and asked what she’d been up to.
“Not much. Stuff,” she’d replied, looking as guilty as she felt for lying.
He’d narrowed his eyes. “Either you’ve bought me the worst Christmas present ever this year–outdoing all your other years–or you are seeing someone.”
She huffed at him and walked away. “Well, after that comment, I’m not getting you anything ever again.”
“So it’s a man,” Aidan declared, following her.
Damn, usually Aidan was distracted by gifts. He loved them. He was that kid around the tree who counted the presents to make sure nobody had more than him.
Their mom had worked this out early and always ensured there was one extra, which he delighted in, but it was always a prank gift. Like washing, he’d left lying on the floor. Or a gift voucher for a kiss from their mom. Or their dog.
Every year.
“It’s not a man. I’m just working on my art. The usual.”
Fortunately, Aidan hadn’t stayed long. He and Logan were getting fitted for their wedding outfits, so he’d stolen half the cookies she’d baked the day before with Jack and then left.
Typical.
So she’d kept Jack hidden from her family. Now she was about to meet the Rutherford’s.
“Hey, Mom,” Jack said as they walked inside the house.
“Through here,” his mom called.
Jack smiled at Amelia, tugging her through the house to the kitchen. A woman in her early sixties turned, drying her hands on a tea towel and froze when she saw them.
Or rather her.
Amelia smiled.
“Mom, this is Amelia,” Jack said. “We were skating when you rang, so I figured it was a good time to meet.”
“Oh,”
“Amelia, this is my mom.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Rutherford.” Amelia smiled. “I’m sorry about this. I told Jack it was completely inappropriate to just turn up—.”
