Driving Me to Christmas (London Loves Book 5) by Julie Farrell Read Free Book Online Page A

drum brakes? Awesome!”
    “Yeah,” Verlaine said, “and all original parts. Three-ninety-four barrel!”
    “Wow, plenty of power,” Rebecca said. “I heard her roaring like thunder when you arrived.”
    “She sure does sound great. And all the internal lights are fully functioning – the door lights, the foot-well lights, everything. It took me hours of love to restore this baby.”
    Rebecca grinned, making her perfect cheeks dimple. “ You restored this car?”
    “Sure did. It’s my job.”
    “Cool job!”
    “Yeah, I love it.”
    “What’s the mileage on this beauty, son?” Jim asked.
    “Only sixty-K, can you believe it!”
    “Jeez,” Jim said. “Like a dream.”
    Rebecca touched it as if it was sacred. “What’s the asking price?”
    “Gemma wants forty grand, sterling.”
    Rebecca frowned. “Who’s Gemma?”
    “My boss.”
    The mention of Gemma seemed to cause something to click inside Verlaine, and he glanced over, remembering he had a girlfriend. “Hey, Sam, come round here and meet Bex.”
    Rebecca noticed Sam for the first time and shot her a look of irritation, as if she and Verlaine had been instructed to take their kid sister to the movies. The chilly air became even colder as they made eye contact.
    Sam crunched over and stood in front of her. “Hello. Nice to meet you.”
    Rebecca inspected her, then she offered an immaculately manicured hand, which didn’t look like it’d changed a tyre in its life. “Likewise.”
    She gazed into Sam’s eyes, scrutinising her with an expression that suggested she planned to expose Sam’s dark soul to the world. She swallowed, trying not to allow Rebecca to intimidate her. She just wanted them to get along, and for it to be New Year as soon as possible.
    Jim jovially cut in. “Great to see you, Sammy!”
    “Yeah, you too, Jim.”
    “You still working with Paul? How’s business?”
    “It could be better. But we’ll get there.”
    Jim snorted. “Yeah, Verlaine said he was the one bringing home the bacon at the moment.”
    “Dad, I did not say that!”
    Jim sniggered. “It’s not too good for our little feminist Sam, huh? You’d better start earning some money if you wanna be a true woman’s libber!”
    Patty tutted. “Stop it, Jim.”
    Sam threw him a tight smile. “Yes, well, Paul and I are working as hard as we can to make our business a success.”
    Jim draped his arm playfully around her, almost knocking her sideways. “Gosh you’re a tiny thing, aren’t you? By the way, did you bring your shotgun?”
    “My shotgun?”
    “Yeah. We were gonna go out shooting pheasants this afternoon – you know how we Americans love our guns!”
    Sam stared at him. “Oh, er, I don’t think… I’m not sure I could shoot something.”
    Verlaine rolled his eyes. “He’s joking, honey.”
    Sam’s insides writhed with humiliation as everyone laughed. She forced herself to laugh too, rubbing her hands over her upper-arms to hint that she was cold and wanted to go indoors.
    “Seriously, though,” Jim said. “I’m hoping to do a touch of sightseeing later and I hope you kids’ll join us. There’s the gunpowder mill, the police museum, and the war aerodrome. I’ve been dying to see those again for a while now.”
    Sam chuckled. “Yeah, ha, very funny, Jim. You’d have to be seriously geeky to want to visit the dull and tedious gunpowder mill!”
    Sam’s smile faded as she realised the others weren’t laughing. She hoped Jim’s blank expression would crack into a grin, but instead he shot her a glare, then exchanged a look of contempt with Rebecca.
    Patty squeezed her on the shoulder. “I guess we can’t all like the same hobbies, right.”
    “Yeah.” Sam desperately searched for something to say. She grasped at a flash of redemption. “Oh, Verlaine, why don’t we give your mum her present?”
    “Oh yeah,” he said, stepping over to the car.
    “But it’s not Christmas yet,” Patty said.
    “This is an early present,” Sam