That Christmas Feeling by Catherine Palmer, Gail Gaymer Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

occasionally reaching out to touch her arm. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, she enjoyed his company. And not just as an old high school friend. There was something about Rob that drew her. A connection, a soul-deep response, a heart yearning.
    Of course, he was handsome. No female in her right mind would deny that. Just the sight of the man sent tingles dancing like snowflakes down her spine. Yet what she experienced in his presence went much deeper than mere physical attraction.
    With Rob, Claire felt exactly like herself. Not like the woman she wished to become. Not like a dream image of the perfect heroine in her own life story. Just herself. Claire Ross. For some reason she couldn’t quite understand, that relieved and comforted her.
    And it definitely made her reconsider the man she had been so certain she ought to marry. Had she ever known Stephen as well as she knew the man across the table? Certainly she and Stephen had much in common, and Claire had admired him almost to the point of reverence. Young, highly acclaimed and well traveled, Stephen was a writer—a gifted historian whose books she had read and respected. She had been assistant curator of the museum in which he spent much of his research time, and he’d commended the accuracy of her work there.
    They’d spent time together quietly discussing differing accounts of a war, or the influence of some long-dead figure, or the findings of an archaeological dig. Stephen had agreed to attend Claire’s church, analyzed the sermons from start to finish and pronounced himself a believer. Though his life hadn’t borne much fruit from that point forward, it had been enough for Claire.
    She liked Stephen. Loved him, she’d felt sure. When he had asked her to marry him, she’d agreed, convinced that a future with the man made good sense. Their plans perfectly matched the ideal life she had dreamed up for herself in college. She and Stephen would spend their years in the serene and studious pursuit of historical accuracy. They would attend cultural events together. They would travel to the great places of the world and visit important sites. Okay, so they might not laugh much…or tease each other…or chase cats…
    Claire sighed and glanced at Rob. He was nothing like her former fiancé, who had bolted off into the blue after a young admirer had made a fuss over his latest book. Stephen, it turned out, preferred hero worship to fidelity. He craved awestruck veneration over mutual respect.
    Rob West, on the other hand, was steady. Authentic. And definitely a lot more fun.
    He was smiling gently at her now, almost as though he was untangling and reading the web of confusing thoughts that jumbled her mind. To Claire’s mortification, she realized he probably was.
    “You told me your mom and dad used to bake homemade pizza every Friday night,” he recalled. “That’s why you didn’t come to my games. Because you wanted to eat pizza with your family.”
    She lowered her focus to her plate. “Those were fun evenings, and my folks still do pizza night when they’re in town. But I might have been giving you an excuse. I didn’t go to football games because I didn’t have anyone to go with. It was a culture, you know, the whole football scene. I didn’t have many friends, and we weren’t big on all that rah-rah stuff.” She paused. “Anyway, I never have understood football.”
    He leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “You don’t understand football? What does that mean?”
    “Was I speaking a foreign language just then? No, I don’t understand football. My dad never watched it on TV. He was a farm boy growing up, and he didn’t care for athletics. I didn’t have brothers and rarely went to the games. When I did go, I could never find the ball.”
    “You couldn’t find the ball?”
    She stared at him. “Are you going to keep repeating things? The football is brown and tiny, and it’s always hidden in some burly guy’s