He kept his radio turned down low as he parked the cruiser and walked toward the church. The service had already started, and he was planning to slip in the back and leave again if he needed to. Snowbanks were high on either side of the concrete walk, a result of the storm earlier in the week. When he opened the door to the vestibule, the sound of the congregation singing “O Come All Ye Faithful” rang out.
He didn’t even go inside the sanctuary. He stood out of sight, over by the coatracks, listening. Absorbing the positive, happy vibe that surrounded him.
The truth was, he’d been miserable all day.
* * *
The emergency call-out had been bad. A 911 call had come in saying there was a child in distress, and he’d hurried to dress and get out the door without waking Lainey, leaving a scribbled note on a paper napkin as an explanation. He and Bryce had attended the call together, arriving just before the ambulance. The boy was five years old and Todd had known right away that he hadn’t fallen down any stairs. The wild, frightened look in his mother’s eyes had explained a lot, and the dad was nowhere to be found. The EMTs were talking major head injuries as they loaded the boy in the ambulance.
Once they’d finished taking statements and contacted child services, Todd had gone to text Lainey and realized that he didn’t actually have her cell number. He tried the number at the inn and left a message, but he’d waited all day and no response had come. There’d been no time to stop by, either. Covering for Jamie meant he only had time to grab something to eat during his double shift.
He sighed, leaning against the wall as another carol began, this time “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.” The bass line in the organ was triumphantly robust, but Todd couldn’t seem to gear himself up to enter the sanctuary and sing along. He’d really thought he and Lainey were starting something great. He wasn’t looking for a casual hookup. He was looking for something meaningful, and he thought they’d had a chance. He’d wanted them to have a chance. He really liked her. Maybe more than that.
Maybe, hell. He cared about her. He couldn’t have slept with her otherwise. He’d tried to reach her a couple of different ways. And she had his cell number; he’d given it to her the morning after the storm. If she’d wanted to talk to him, all she had to do was dial.
Damn. He shouldn’t have come here tonight. All it did was make him feel worse.
He turned to leave just as the minister began to read the first scripture of the service, but a movement at the sanctuary door caught his eye and he turned his head.
Lainey stood there, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
He swallowed.
“Lainey,” he said, down low, wanting to keep his voice quiet so no one inside could hear.
“Hi,” she said softly, and he saw her throat bob as she swallowed, too, as if there were a lump caught there. He knew how that felt. It was a like a big ball of bitter disappointment that wouldn’t move.
She was so beautiful. Was it possible that he’d fallen completely under her spell in only a few dates? He knew it was. It had to be, because looking at her now he got that strange heavy feeling in his chest, like a rock of uncertainty.
“You look pretty,” he said, not knowing what else to say. It was true, anyway. She wore black leggings and boots and a long red sweater that was the perfect color next to her tawny skin and dark hair. She wore it down again, the black curls tumbling over her shoulders.
“So do you,” she replied, and he saw color rise to her cheeks. He smiled a little. He was in his uniform, after all—trousers, shirt, jacket, and the belt at his waist that held all his gear and was heavier than most people realized.
“I was just leaving.” His eyes never left hers, but he gestured toward the door with his thumb.
“Yes, you’re good at that,” she said quickly, then flushed, her cheeks turning red.
He felt his jaw tighten. “If this is about this morning…” He kept his voice low, in deference to the service going on behind them. “I called the inn and left a message.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t even over there today.”
“I don’t have your cell number or I would have texted. Didn’t you get my note?”
Her lips opened the slightest bit. “There wasn’t any note.” But he heard the hint of doubt in her voice.
“I could only find a napkin, and I left it on my pillow,” he murmured, looking around to make sure no one could hear. A church probably wasn’t the best place to talk about spending the night together.
She shook her head. “I didn’t get a note or a message, Todd.”
“So you thought I just … left? Pulled a disappearing act? After yesterday? Seriously?”
“What was I supposed to think?”
Silence dropped like a stone between them. Finally, he sighed. “Well. I guess I know what you really think of me, then. You know, you had my number. You might have sent me a text and asked.” He put on his cap and touched a finger to the brim. “Merry Christmas, Lainey.”
He turned to go. It felt wrong to walk away, but what else was he supposed to do?
His hand was on the handle of the metal door when her voice called after him. “Todd … wait.”