Free Christmas Dinner (Crimson Romance) by Robyn Neeley Page A

a lot.”
    She studied Brad. He sounded truly sincere. He’d moved on. It was probably time for her to do the same.
    Besides, the butterflies she would usually get every time Brad entered a room hadn’t arrived. That had to mean something. Maybe her heart had finally caught up with her head and realized he wasn’t the one.
    “Melanie seems nice,” she offered.
    “Yeah, she’s great.”
    “Congratulations on your engagement.”
    “Thanks.” He adjusted his cap. “You seem happy.”
    “I am. With Tate,” she added quickly. “We’re really happy.”
    “So we saw.” Brad headed down the staircase. “I should go help your father.”
    Amanda’s stood, mouth agape. What was he implying? “Wait. Hold up.” She chased him down the stairs, lunging for his arm. “What do you mean ‘we’?”
    Brad smirked. “Might want to close the drapes next time.” He opened the front door and paused. “Tell your mom I enjoyed our talk last night.”
    She stood in horror. Oh, God. Had there been someone outside with him? She couldn’t recall seeing anyone, let alone her mother. Her mom had to have been fast asleep by then. There’s no way her mother would have been standing outside in the dead of winter after midnight. He had to be messing with her.
    She paced back and forth in the foyer. But what if someone else did see? What would she say? How would she explain?
    She was pretty sure appearing in front of the guest bedroom window half naked while straddling an equally half-dressed man for all to see would put her on the naughty list.
    • • •
    Tate stepped out of shower and whipped a towel around his hips. He swooped his hand over the foggy mirror and cleared the mist that had collected—all the while singing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” It didn’t go unnoticed that the song had special meaning for him this year.
    Last night’s impromptu make out session was still fresh in his mind.
Thank you, Brad, for being a voyeur.
Even if it meant nothing to Amanda and had been merely an attempt on her part to piss off her ex-boyfriend, he had to admit kissing her was everything he had dreamed of and then some.
    If only she felt the same way about him. Still, the way she responded to his touch . . . He’d been around the block a time or two. He thought he could tell when a woman wasn’t really into it. Her equally engaged lips suggested she’d enjoyed their charade every bit as much as he did. If she was completely faking it, she deserved an Oscar.
    Pretending or not, he hoped today involved more kisses.
    He dressed and headed downstairs where he found Amanda pacing in the foyer. This couldn’t be good. “Good morning. Everything okay?”
    She stopped pacing. “Oh, hi. Yes . . . Er, no,” she stammered and then said, “Maybe.”
    “Sounds like you’ve had quite a morning. What’s going on?”
    “It’s nothing.”
    “Did Alex say something?
    “No.” She sighed. “But Brad did. Good morning.”
    “Good morning,” he repeated and smiled down at her. What had Brad said that had her so worried?
    “How did you sleep?”
    “Out like a light. I didn’t kick you, did I?”
    “No, you stayed on your side.” She looked away.
    Was she turning red?
    “Are you ready to meet my family?”
    “Let’s do it.” Tate followed her into the warm, country style kitchen. Woven baskets, vintage canisters, and pictures in old frames gave the room a cozy charm. Tate took it all in. It instantly reminded him of his mother. She had loved the country.
    A plump, middle-aged woman with medium length silver hair dressed in a long red sweater and mom jeans was flipping pancakes on the stove. This had to be Diane Turner.
    When she turned around to greet them, he saw a bright Christmas tree in the middle of her sweater. He stifled the urge to laugh. The Turners certainly loved their Christmas trees.
    “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Breakfast is on the stove.” She motioned to empty plates on the counter.
    “Morning,