My Kind of Christmas

What difference is there in intensity? But she knew the answer to that question—if he ignored her from this point on, she might wonder and even suffer some longing, but she’d soon move on. If she went further, got truly involved with him and then they parted ways, as of course they must, she was fairly certain she would be torn to pieces.
    “Don’t worry, Aunt Brie,” she said. “I’m sure we’ll never be more than just friends.” But what she meant was He’ll never take the chance .
    “Probably for the best,” Brie said. “Want to help put out cookies?”
    “Sure. I bet this place gets really busy when the lights go on.”
    “Really busy.”
    After Angie finished her cocoa she went into the kitchen to scout around for cookies. She found Preacher at the stove and Paige busy putting cookies on decorative platters.
    “Good, another pair of hands!” Paige said happily.
    In no time at all, Angie was grateful for the kitchen chores. She thought more about Patrick but it was too busy to look around for him. She arranged cookies on platters, carried them to the bar and saw the place begin to fill up with people. Paige put out punch and a big urn of coffee and, while it appeared the town of Virgin River would feast on cookies, brownies and sugary bars, Preacher had a pot of stew and fresh bread ready for anyone craving something a little more substantial. The platters emptied as fast as Angie could put them out and, as she refilled them, the time flew by. The sun was setting by five-thirty, the colorful lights inside the bar were lit; there were happy voices and laughter everywhere. Women began to add their own sweets to the collection. Tables had to be pushed together to accommodate all the offerings. Drinks were served—hot toddies, cocoa and the stuff that would warm bellies on cold winter nights.
    “It’s almost time, darling,” Paige said to Angie. “Go outside. Don’t miss it.”
    The crowd outside was growing; the cherry pickers, ladders and other equipment had been put out of sight. Jack stood at the far end of the porch, ready to join the extension cords. To get the best possible view, Angie crossed the street and stood near the clinic in the darkness, hands in her pockets, watching her breath cloud the air.
    And then there were big hands on her shoulders.
    There were any number of people who might do that, but she could feel it was him . Sense him. Then he bent his head and gently nuzzled her, making her smile. Oh, she was toast. She knew right then that she’d never be able to resist him.
    As if he read her mind, he turned her around and stared down into her eyes for a moment before gently and briefly touching her forehead with his lips. And then he smiled.
    “I thought you found me thoroughly resistible,” she said.
    “I find you thoroughly tempting.”
    “And would you call that practical?” she teased.
    He made a face. “Part of being good with secrets is not taunting a person with them,” he told her. “I can’t help it if you’re tempting.”
    “I’m sure that has mostly to do with being in a little town where there aren’t too many temptations.”
    “Or it could have to do with you. How was your day?”
    “Slow and easy. Lovely. I’ve eaten a lot of Christmas cookies. How is Marie?” She cringed at the thought of sounding jealous, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling it.
    “Having a good day today.”
    He turned her around toward the tree, but he kept his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him. She glanced over her shoulder at him and said, “I think my uncle Jack is watching.”
    “Try not to worry. I learned to fight from four big brothers. I can defend myself and keep you safe.”
    She was close to telling him that the number of women he vowed to protect was growing....
    And then the tree lit up and the lights were so grand in the town, the street was filled with the brightness of an afternoon sun. There was a chorus of “Ahhhhh,” then applause. Patrick’s arms tightened around her. She leaned back against him and enjoyed the closeness. She had barely begun her fantasy of what else might happen between them when a truck came into town, horn blowing. The street was filled with people and the old truck’s horn was separating them, parting the crowd, until it finally came to a stop right in front of the clinic.
    Angie, acting on sheer impulse, wiggled out of Patrick’s arms and ran toward the vehicle just as a woman got out of the