Page 8 of Sweet Yuletide (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #4)

As Michael drove Sheridan, he doubted a machete could cut through the thick tension in his SUV.

The silence wasn’t helping, but his radio hadn’t worked in almost a year.

He’d lost his aux cord, so he couldn’t plug in his phone.

A good thing the drive would only take a few minutes, or it would be more awkward.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, focusing on the road and not his passenger.

He didn’t need to glance at her to know she was studying her phone with a must-cram-for-finals intensity to avoid talking to him.

Other than to tell him where they needed to deliver the painting to, she’d been doing the same thing since he walked into the living room.

Okay, I get it .

The way she’d acted in his bedroom embarrassed her. Her flushed cheeks and awkward mannerisms were signs of her attraction. She might not be his type, but he was flattered.

What man wouldn’t be?

Maybe he should have worked harder to keep a poker face, but how she got all flustered and let the words flow was cute. Especially knowing he’d caused her reaction.

Her shutting it down disappointed him. But relief quickly followed because having his temporary roommate hit on him would complicate their house-sitting situation fast.

Sure, she was pretty. And face it, her faded jeans showed off her curves hidden by her sweatshirt yesterday.

If it were another time, he might want to get to know her. But he didn’t need any new friends. Nor did a holiday romance fit into his plans.

“ Your destination is one hundred feet ahead on your right ,” the robotic voice of her phone stated.

Not that he needed the directions, given the size of Indigo Bay, but at least someone didn’t mind talking to him.

Michael parked across the street from the B&B. The driveway and curb spots in front were full of vans and trucks. He set the parking brake and pulled the key from the ignition. “Do you know where to drop off the painting?”

“The ballroom. I’m supposed to find Sonja.”

Sheridan didn’t raise her gaze from her phone, but at least she’d answered him.

“Thanks for the ride,” she continued. “I need to set up everything, so there’s no reason for you to stay. I’ll walk back to the house.”

She finally glanced his way. Her eyes were wide and her jaw tight.

He fought the urge to wrap his arms around her and squeeze tightly.

His sisters appreciated his bear hugs when something bothered them.

But Sheridan wasn’t family or even a friend, and she was nothing like Madison or Marley.

That meant touching her would be inappropriate.

Besides, he didn’t want to put her more on edge, but there was one thing that might make her feel better.

“I’ll carry the painting inside.” Sheridan was wound so tight, she might spring up like a jack-in-the-box.

His helping would protect her and Hope’s donation.

Besides, he had nothing else to do today.

His team didn’t work on the weekends, and a guy could only play so many video games or binge-watch TV series.

“My day is wide open. No plans or places to be.”

Without waiting for a reply, Michael got out of the car. He didn’t need his beanie in the fifty-degree temperature, so he wore a baseball cap instead. He’d ditched his sunglasses because he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself. The beard hid his face, anyway.

He met Sheridan at the back of the SUV, where he removed the box before closing the hatch. “Lead the way.”

She hunched. “I have no idea where I’m going.”

“Follow your gut.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Is that what you do?”

The fateful trip into the convenience store to spend money on a snack he hadn’t needed came to mind. But his gut had told him to buy a ticket, too. “Yeah, it is.”

“I’ve always been more… methodical. But things haven’t worked out like I’d planned. I might try your way.”

“You should.” He waited for her to move. She didn’t. “So, what’s your gut telling you?”

“The front door would be a good place to start.”

He grinned. “See?”

“I’m sure it’s more common sense saying that.” Still, she continued toward the B&B’s entrance. Candy cane lights lined each side of the walkway. “This is beautiful.”

“It is.” White bulbs lined the eaves of the old house that had found new life thanks to a meticulous renovation.

A large wreath hung on the front door, scenting the sea air with the smell of sharp, fresh pine, and provided an elegant touch of holiday cheer.

“My sister Marley is an architect. She told me the place was once on the town’s condemned list. The new owners remodeled it, and the B and B opened in July. ”

“They did a fantastic job.” Sheridan glanced over her shoulder at him. “Have you been inside?”

“No. When I’m in Indigo Bay, I sleep on Von’s couch or floor.

Since he’s away, I upgraded to his bed.” Not that Michael minded where he slept.

That might change, but he didn’t think by much.

He was the definition of casual. He owned one suit—a present from his parents his senior year of college for weddings and job interviews.

He much preferred comfort over style for both his clothes and vacations.

“I’m more the stay-in-the-cheapest-room-since-we’ll-never-be-in-there type, so I’ll have more money to spend. ”

“Makes sense, especially if you’re only sleeping and showering someplace.”

She hadn’t struck him as a roughing-it traveler. “What about you?”

“I haven’t traveled lately. My mom doesn’t go out of town because of the animal rescue, though Max, her new husband, is trying to talk her into a delayed honeymoon.

” Sheridan got a faraway, almost sad look in her eyes.

“My dad used to take me to galleries and museums all over the world. He would find out-of-the-way unique places to stay at. I never considered the cost because he paid.”

“A perk of traveling with parents.”

“It was.” Her voice cracked.

What Von mentioned yesterday popped into Michael’s mind. Something might have happened to her father.

Sheridan rang the bell before he could ask.

The door opened. A woman around fifty with tousled, dark-blond hair smiled. “Welcome to the Morrison Mansion B and B.”

“Hi. I’m Sheridan DeMarco.” Her voice was strong, and she stood tall, not hunching her shoulders or trying to hide as before. “I’m looking for Sonja. I have a donation from Hope Ryan.”

“I’m Sonja.” The woman was dressed impeccably with perfect makeup. She appeared more ready to attend an event than host one. “Hope mentioned someone would be by. I have a display easel set up, though I know art folks are particular about lighting and positioning.”

Sheridan laughed.

The sound was unexpected, and it was something Michael wouldn’t mind hearing again.

“Did Hope warn you about that?” Sheridan asked.

Sonja motioned them inside. “No, but I’ve had a few art connoisseurs as guests. I thought one couple would ask me to rehang the artwork before they checked out.”

Michael followed Sheridan inside. The scent of pine with hints of cinnamon and vanilla lingered in the air.

“Sounds like there’s more to it than making sure the top isn’t crooked,” he joked, knowing his framed prints and posters were never straight, and it didn’t bother him at all.

“According to those guests, there is,” Sonja said.

Sheridan moved toward the staircase where a lighted garland decorated an oak banister. “Your B and B is lovely.”

Sonja’s smile widened. “Several hands were involved in the renovations, and I’m thrilled how everything turned out.”

“Great Christmas decorations,” Michael added, suddenly missing having a tree at Von’s house.

“Thank you,” Sonja said. “This is our first holiday with guests. We wanted the holiday décor to add to the atmosphere but not overwhelm it.”

Sheridan reached toward a holly leaf on the garland before placing her arm at her side. “It works.”

“Follow me.” Sonja led them into the ballroom.

Michael followed the women into the large space. Christmas music played. He’d been in hotel ballrooms, but this was like he’d stepped into a holiday movie that his mom and sisters enjoyed watching. Yes, they’d made him watch, too, and they didn’t suck.

“Wow.” He glanced around. People placed silver and red centerpieces on the forest-green linen-covered tables.

The Christmas tree with white lights needed to be decorated.

There was even a stage. The only thing missing was snow and the guy in red with a hearty ho-ho-ho .

“This is swankier than I thought it would be and totally Christmassy.”

Sonja beamed. “We were fortunate to have sponsors for tonight’s gala. Which is great since the rescue desperately needs to expand their building. All funds raised will go to that.”

“That’s impressive.” Sheridan’s tone matched the awe of her expression. “My mom runs a rescue, but her events aren’t anything like this.”

“Ours normally aren’t, but we figured we’d try it.” Sonja pointed to a Barks and Bows sign. “There’s also an adoption and holiday fair on Tuesday if you’re curious how the rescue runs a lower-key event.”

“Thanks for telling me about that.” Sheridan surveyed the ballroom as if memorizing the details. “My mom’s always looking for new fundraising ideas. I’ll check that out and take notes for her.”

“Oh, you should do that. It will be fun. People are welcome to bring their pets and have photos taken with Santa. There will also be booths selling gifts and holiday items.” Sonja headed to the opposite side of the ballroom where rectangular tables were pushed together to make a long row.

An empty display easel stood at one end.

“This is where the silent auction is being held. You can set up the painting on the easel. Leave the box under the closest table, and we’ll package the painting for the winner. ”

Michael took that as his cue. He placed the box on the hardwood floor and then stepped back to give Sheridan space.

“Do you need anything?” Sonja asked.