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

have other things I need to do now. Do you want to take the dogs, or should I keep them?”
    Her voice was as cold as the snow falling all about him. Hank did a double take. He knew a brush-off when he got one. He’d had more than enough in his lifetime to know the signals. He took a moment to wonder if Mandy was bipolar. One minute she was on top of the world, and the next she was doom and gloom. She hadn’t said a word on the drive home. “I’ll take them,” he said curtly.
    â€œFine,” Amy snapped. She opened the door, and both dogs ran to her to be petted. Hank did everything in his power to get Churchill to go with him. He finally had to give up when the big dog bared his teeth. “Guess that’s your answer, Mr. Anders.”
    Mr. Anders? “Yeah, guess so.”
    Amy moved to the door to close it. Then she added insult to injury, Hank thought, when he heard the deadbolt snick into place. He felt lower than a skunk’s belly when he hightailed it back to his brother’s house.
    What the hell is going on?
    The house was exceptionally quiet. Instead of calling out, Hank walked out to the kitchen to see Mason puttering around at the stove. “Is there any coffee, Mason? Did anyone call?”
    â€œI just made fresh coffee. No one called, but your e-mail is pinging again. I just put the boys down for their naps. My agency has booked me for the next six months. All you need to do is call to confirm and give them your credit card information. Is something wrong, Mr. Anders? You look . . . dejected. ”
    Was something wrong? This guy was really astute. Hank wondered what kind of confidant he would make. He poured coffee. “What are you making?”
    â€œStew. I always make stew when it snows. The weatherman is predicting six inches of snow by morning. Did you go to the market, Mr. Anders? We need milk for the boys.”
    â€œStew is good. I’m going to go to the market when I finish this coffee. I have to get gas, too. What I said earlier . . . you know . . . about me being in love. That wasn’t true. Well, it was at the time, but it isn’t now. I overreacted. Women are so . . . what they are is . . . hell, what are they, Mason?”
    â€œComplex. Fickle. Manipulative. Selfish. Mind you, I don’t know this for a fact, but I do read a lot. So, I guess what you’re saying is the lady next door spurned your advances. Would that be a correct assessment, Mr. Anders?”
    â€œIt will do. I didn’t do a damn thing. She froze on me. She goddamn well kicked me to the curb is what she did. What do you think about that, Mason?”
    Mason opted to take the high road. “I think, sir, before I can comment, I would need to hear the young lady’s side. As you know, there are two sides to everything.”
    â€œThere must be something wrong with me. I was left standing at the altar a while back. The twins don’t like me. The dogs don’t want to come home. I don’t get it. I’m a stand-up guy. I’m nice to old people. I’ve always liked kids. I’m generous, never ask anyone to do anything I won’t do myself. My employees gave me a plaque that said I was the best boss in the world. I don’t have dandruff. I use a top-notch deodorant. What the hell is wrong with me?”
    â€œI don’t think I’m qualified to comment on anything other than the boys. I think they sensed your uneasiness. In other words, you have little experience with toddlers. They sense your fear. I can’t be certain, but I imagine it’s probably the same thing with the animals.”
    â€œWhat should I do?”
    â€œTry to repair the damage. Relax. Flowers might be an option. You need to be comfortable with yourself. I really think you should go to the market now before the roads become hazardous, Mr. Anders. The boys drink a lot of milk.”
    Hank looked over at the computer. He had the rest of the day and evening