Page 17 of The Lie That Stole Christmas

He couldn’t help but laugh.“The truck just started.It needs time to warm up.”She blew into her hands, and with a resigned sigh, he slipped off his gloves and handed them to her.

“What is that?”she asked.

“Gloves.I knew you were out of touch, but I didn’t think you were that out of touch.”

She snapped the gloves off his hands and thrust her fingers into the warm leather.“I am not out of touch.”She yanked the end of the glove into place and settled her hands in her lap.“I figured you’d let me freeze, is all.”

“I’m not an asshole.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“But?”

“I didn’t say but.”

“You didn’t have to.It was the way you lingered onwere.”

Ashley glanced out the window, lips pressed together in that way he remembered, like she was trying not to say too much.It used to drive him crazy.Still did.

Finally, she muttered, “You’ve changed.”

“Yeah, well.Eight years’ll do that.”

She faced him, eyes narrowed.“So what’s changed, then?”

He shrugged, keeping his focus on the road as he took the curve a little faster than necessary.“I don’t keep my opinions to myself as much.I drink better whiskey.And I’ve learned not to let Wetherby women get under my skin.”

She snorted.“Cute.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

Ashley pulled her coat tighter and settled against the seat, falling into silence again.Not the comfortable kind, but the kind that was full of all the things they weren’t saying.

After a few moments, she spoke, her voice quiet.“You didn’t reach out.Not once.”

Her words were like a jab to the ribs.

“I know,” he said.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer.Not right away.He just kept his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road.He’d rehearsed a hundred versions of this conversation over the years, and none of them ended with her understanding.

“Because if I did,” he said slowly, “I wouldn’t have stopped.”

Her breath caught.

“And that wasn’t the life you were building,” he added.“You were moving to New York to chase big dreams.I was just the guy who knew how to fix the plumbing.”

“You were neverjustanything, Carter.”

“Maybe not to you,” he said.“But to everyone else in your world, I was.And whether or not you wanted it to, that would’ve mattered, eventually..”

She stared at him, her expression unreadable.“You should’ve letmedecide what mattered.”

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

The rest of the drive stretched on in silence, thick with unspoken memories and possibilities, past regrets and old sparks they’d never really extinguished.