Free A Family Under the Christmas Tree by Terri Reed Page B

quality of her voice. It was soothing.
    â€œHave you met any of those actors?” he asked. In her line of work she was bound to have rubbed elbows with celebrities.
    â€œI have,” she said, though there was a note of wariness in her tone.
    â€œYou must get that question a lot.”
    She sighed. “Yes, I do.”
    Since he wasn’t that interested in famous people, he decided to switch topics. “I’m not much of a movie watcher. I prefer books.”
    â€œWho’s your favorite author?”
    He ran down the list of his top five writers and was pleased to discover she’d also read books by a couple of them, though she preferred lighter reading. They had a lively debate on the plot twists in a recent offering by one of their shared favorite authors.
    When they reached the gate to the off-leash area of the nearby park, Riggs sat and stared expectantly at them.
    â€œI didn’t bring the tennis ball,” Sophie said and stroked the dog’s head. “Sorry, boy.”
    As if understanding, he rose and sniffed a trail to the play structure. Sophie sat on a swing.
    David leaned against the slide and kept a grip on Riggs’s leash. The dog was content to sniff the ground at the end of the lead. “I need to apologize for earlier,” he said. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally try to kiss pretty women I’ve only just met.”
    She sent the swing moving with the toe of her shoe. “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Thank you?”
    â€œMy only excuse is the stress I’m under,” he continued, feeling the need to explain so she wouldn’t think he was a total loser. “Between caring for Troy and work and my special project, I’m spread so thin. I lost my head there for a moment.”
    Her blue eyes glittered in the moonlight. “It’s kind of gratifying to think I could make you lose your head.”
    He heard the laughter in her voice. “You’re making fun of me.”
    â€œMaybe. I accept your apology and you don’t need to feel bad about it. You have a lot on your plate.”
    He stared out at the trees. “Yes. Daniel would have handled it all with ease. He never let life rattle him.”
    â€œGrandma said they died in a car accident.” Sophie’s voice was soft and gentle.
    Searing pain went through him, but he forged ahead with the story. “They were heading home from Seattle,” he told her. “They’d taken Troy to the Space Needle and to the aquarium on the waterfront.”
    Sophie let out a small gasp. “Troy was with them?”
    â€œYes. He’d fallen asleep, and thankfully was strapped securely in his car seat when a drunk driver hit them head-on. They were headed home on the SR520 Bridge.”
    â€œThe floating bridge? I thought there was a divider.”
    â€œYeah, well, this clown got on the bridge going in the wrong direction. He smashed into Daniel’s sedan.”
    â€œThat’s horrible.”
    â€œDaniel and Beth died within minutes of impact. At least that’s what the police told me.”
    She rose and came to him. “And the driver of the other car?”
    â€œHe died as well.” There was no solace in the man’s death. It was so needless.
    â€œNo wonder Troy has nightmares.” She touched a hand to his sleeve—lightly, but there was still a connection. “I can’t imagine the sorrow you feel. Or the rage at the senselessness of the accident.”
    He straightened. She was so close, the scent of vanilla and sugar clinging to her hair wrapped around him, cocooning him in warmth. “No, I don’t suppose many people could.” He stared up at the moon. Raindrops hit his face. He didn’t mind. He hoped the rain hid the tears that leaked from his eyes. “Daniel had asked me to go with them. He was always doing that, trying to include me. I’d declined because I was working on my project. I