Marry-Me Christmas by Shirley Jump Read Free Book Online Page B

story behind the story. He had to be crazy. Clearly made delusional by all this Christmas spirit surrounding him. That was it.
    Except, Flynn wasn’t a Christmas spirit kind of guy.
    “How’s the weather out there?” Flynn asked, even though he already knew the answer. His comment was simply meant to retreat to neutral ground. He’d circle around to the article in a while, once he got his head back in the game.
    “The storm has eased a bit, but they’re expecting another front to move in, later this morning.”
    “If Earl’s got the part for my car, that gives me just enough time to get out of town, if you have time for us to finish our interview before I have to go.”
    Samantha laughed. “Go and do what? The road travel will be awful again in a couple of hours, not that it’s all that great right now to begin with. You might as well stay. In fact, I don’t think you’ll have a choice.”
    “There’s always a choice, Miss Barnett.”
    “Well, unless you convince the National Guard to convoy you out, Mr. MacGregor, I think your only choice is to stay put.” She closed the last of the boxes and stacked them into a pile. “I have to get back to the shop, but if you want to finish your interview, I’ll be free at lunch for twenty minutes or so.”
    He’d be here all day, from the sounds of it. Have hours and hours of time to kill. He could, most likely, get what he needed from Samantha Barnett in twenty minutes. But the idea of rushing the questions, scribbling down the answers over a corned beef on rye—
    Simply didn’t appeal like it normally did. He must be in need of a vacation. Why else would he not be in a rush to meet his deadline? To move on to the next headline?
    “No,” he said.
    “No?” One eyebrow perked up.
    “I want more than that.”
    “More?” Now the other eyebrow arched.
    “Dinner.” The noise from the other bed-and-breakfast guests had risen, so Flynn took a step closer, and caught the scent of vanilla in her hair. Had he just said that word? Offered a dinner date?
    Yes, he had, and now, he found himself lowering his voice, not for intimacy he told himself, but for privacy. Yet, everything about their closeness, the words, spelled otherwise. “A long, lingering dinner. No rushing out to fill boxes with cranberry muffins or to bring frosted reindeer to screaming three-year-olds.”
    “Just you and me…”
    “And my pen and notepad. This is an interview, not a date, Miss Barnett,” Flynn added, clarifying as much for himself as for her.
    “Of course.” Her gaze lingered on his, direct and clear. “But either way, would you do me one favor?”
    “What?”
    “Stop calling me Miss Barnett. I feel like a schoolteacher, or worse, the lone spinster in town, when you do that. My name is Samantha, but my friends call me Sam. Let’s start with that.”
    He nodded. “Sam it is.” Her name slipped off his tongue as easily as a whisper.
    “And one more thing.” She picked up a cookie from one of the platters and held it out to him. “I’m not leaving here until I know you’ve tasted my wares.”
    His grin quirked up on one side. “That could be taken in many ways, Sam.”
    She brought the cookie to his lips. “The only way I’m meaning is the white chocolate chip kind, Mr. MacGregor.”
    “Call me Flynn, and I’ll do whatever you ask.” Was he flirting ? He never did that. Ever. Maybe Betsy had spiked the coffee.
    “Flynn,” she said, so softly, he was sure he’d never heard his name spoken like that before, “please take a bite.”
    “These aren’t those special romance cookies, are they?”
    “No,” Sam said. “Although my Great-Aunt Ginny thinks I should give one to every eligible male that crosses my path.”
    Her face colored, and he knew she regretted sharing that tidbit. So. Samantha Barnett’s life was a bit lonelier than she wanted to admit.
    “You’ve never tried them?” he asked. Then wondered why he cared.
    “No. But I assure you, Flynn, that my