A December Bride (A Year of Weddings Novella)
“Murphy’s neighborhood was quiet on this Saturday morning. A dusting of snow covered the ground, and the chill in the air burned her lungs.
She stifled a yawn as she slid the key into the lock. She’d stared at the darkened ceiling half the night wondering about what Murphy had said. Turning the comment every which way. And every way she turned it, she ended up with the same view: Murphy had feelings for her.
She couldn’t believe he might love her—though his answer to Dad’s question suggested otherwise. And she definitely wasn’t about to address the subject with him. Last night had been awkward enough.
Today she anticipated a much-needed break from him. He’d be at the hardware store, and she’d be off to work at Cappy’s before he returned. The thought of a pleasant morning doing what she loved put a spring in her step as she entered the quiet house. She closed the door, shutting out the cold, and loosened her scarf.
Murphy emerged from the kitchen.
Layla jumped, palming her heart.
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