Page 42 of The Christmas Door

They walked through the mall with shopping bags in one hand and their fingers intertwined in the other.

“We should be working, shouldn’t we?” She glanced at him sideways. “I mean . . . I know you’re profiling me for a story. Yet we never seem to get our interview done.”

Guilt clawed at his ribs.

He couldn’t ignore this, could he? Doing so wasn’t wise. Thinking that might work had just been a flight of fancy.

It was time to tell her the truth.

“Amayah,” he began, voice betraying the words forming behind it, “there’s something I need to tell you?—”

Before he could explain further, Amayah’s phone rang.

She checked the number and exhaled. “It’s Miranda. One sec.”

She stepped aside, lowering her voice. Luke wasn’t trying to listen, but pieces drifted back through the mall noise.

“No, not yet . . .”

A pause.

“I know, but the inspection has to clear first.”

Another pause, softer, almost protective.

“Yes, I still want it to stay quiet.”

He frowned slightly.

Inspection? Stay quiet? About what?

She returned a moment later wearing a smile that didn’t match the tension in her eyes.

“You were saying something?” she started.

Luke searched for the moment again but bit back the words.

He wanted the chance to tell her the truth.

But the world refused to give it to him.

CHAPTER 20

Amayah tuckedthe last shopping bag into her trunk and closed it with a soft click.

The sound echoed through the cavernous mall parking garage before being absorbed by the thick concrete. Overhead, fluorescent lights buzzed weakly, casting pale, uneven pools across the rows of cars dusted with melting snow.

Before climbing into her car, she brushed her gloves together and turned toward Luke. “Thank you for today. It meant more than you know.”

“Of course.” His voice sounded steady, but his gaze lingered on her a second too long. Warmth swirled in his gaze—warmth that could easily suck her in.

She didn’t mention the kiss. Didn’t dare name it.

The memory of it hovered between them, fragile as breath, warm as candlelight. The way his lips had met hers—gentle, steady—had felt like a promise she hadn’t meant to seek. A promise she wasn’t sure she could hold.

It had been spontaneous, a spark rising from the quiet between them.

Unplanned—dangerously so.