Read Online Coming Home for Christmas by Fern Michaels - Free Book Online Page A

knew was she was home for the holidays and lived in California. Otherwise, all their conversations were on the generic side. He’d been loose as a goose and opened up and confessed to loving her.
    The name Amy Lee sounded so familiar. Did he know her when they were kids? Was she a client or a client’s wife? Nothing was ringing a bell for him.
    Who the hell was Amy Lee?

Chapter Six
    It wasn’t until Amy finished her third slice of pizza and drained the last of her root beer float that she realized she’d been doing all the talking. Hank had only eaten one slice of the delicious pizza, and his root beer float was basically untouched. He also had a strange look on his face. Like he wanted to say something or possibly ask her something and didn’t quite know how to go about it. The words “moody” and “sullen” came to mind. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She didn’t need this, no way, no how.
    Maybe he thought she’d spent too much money at OK Florist. He’d commented on her Range Rover, calling it a pricey set of wheels. Maybe he had a thing about women spending money. He’d been fine before they got to the florist, so whatever was wrong had nothing to do with Mr. Carpenter or the dogs. It had to be her. Something about her was suddenly bothering him. She racked her brain to try to recall what she might have said or done that would make him so quiet all of a sudden.
    Well, she certainly wasn’t going to worry about Hank and his moods. She had things to do and places to go. She fished some money out of her pocket and laid it on the table. After all, she’d invited him to lunch, so it was up to her to pay for it.
    Amy got up and slipped into her jacket. The waiter approached and asked if she wanted change. She shook her head. “Are you ready, Hank?” she asked coolly.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI asked you if you were ready to leave. We came, we ate, I paid the bill, and now it’s time to leave. Are you ready?”
    â€œYeah. Sure. My mind is somewhere else. I’m sorry, Mandy.”
    â€œI am, too,” Amy said as she headed for the door. She slammed through the door, not caring that Hank walked right into it as it was closing. She ignored his yelp of surprise and headed straight for the car. Midway to the Rover, a young woman in a Girl Scout uniform rushed up to her. “Would you care to donate to Mr. Carpenter’s funeral expenses?”
    â€œWhat did you say?”
    The young girl repeated her question.
    â€œI didn’t know . . . of course.” Amy emptied out her wallet.
    â€œHow about you, sir?”
    â€œI didn’t bring my wallet with me. Tell me where I can drop off my contribution. I’ll do it as soon as I get home.”
    â€œMrs. Masterson. She lives at 82 Cypress Street. She’s in charge of the fund-raiser.”
    â€œOkay, thanks.” Hank climbed into the Rover and buckled up. Amy peeled away the moment the door was closed securely. She clenched her teeth. If he thought she was going to start babbling, he needed to think again about his rude behavior. Some things were just not meant to be. So much for dreams and long-lost loves.
    â€œThe snow is really coming down,” Hank said, in an attempt to make conversation.
    The snow wasn’t a question. So she didn’t have to respond.
    Hank eyed Amy out of the corner of his eye. He tried again. “That’s pretty sad about Albert Carpenter. I knew he didn’t have any family left, but I would have thought he had some savings, enough to bury him.”
    That wasn’t a question either. So she didn’t have to respond to it either. Instead, Amy concentrated on the falling snow and driving on the slick roads.
    The rest of the ride home was made in silence on Amy’s part. She swerved into her driveway, turned off the engine, and hopped out of the Rover. “Don’t bother yourself. I can unload the truck later. I