long as she’d let him. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and give her what comfort he could. Selfishly, he wanted comfort from her too. “You want company?” he blurted before he could stop himself.
Her eyes widened. The blush in her cheeks deepened. “No thanks,” she said, averting her gaze to that dark, depressing trailer. “I could probably use some alone time. You know, to think about Dad.” It sounded like something she thought she was supposed to say, not like what she wanted to say.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t sound sure.
He made up his mind to give her a couple hours of space and then come back. She shouldn’t have to spend the day of her father’s funeral alone. It was also Christmas Eve. No one should be alone on Christmas Eve.
“Thanks for everything today.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “I wanted to be mad at you for changing the service. But it was beautiful. Dad would have loved it.”
Her praise warmed his heart. He was glad she liked what he’d done. When they’d planned the funeral together on Saturday, he was still finding his way with her. He hadn’t wanted to go against the decisions she’d made. She was Grip’s daughter. Surely she’d know best what he would have wanted.
But after he’d gone away and had a chance to think about it, it occurred to him she hadn’t known Grip. Not really. Grip had never let her get to know him. Cole had decided to contact Hansen on his own and tweak a few things to help her out. He was extra glad the military honors had come out so well. It was right that Mandy should get a flag to keep. Grip had earned it serving his country.
She cleared her throat. “And the visitation. That was a good idea. Thanks.”
Good. She wasn’t PO’d about that. “You’re welcome. You picked an awesome casket. That was all you.” It had been off-white and trimmed with chrome. Some might have called it over the top, but it reminded him of Gripper’s Harley. Strong, loud and in your face. Come to think of it, it fit Gripper to a T as well.
She huffed. “Thanks. Hopefully casket selection isn’t a skill I’ll get to use much, but just in case, I’m glad I’m good at it.”
She tugged the handle to open the door. He braced himself to say goodbye to her, but she turned back to him suddenly. Reaching over the console, she pulled him into a hug.
He went willingly, bending to gather her as close as he could. This might be his only chance to ever hug Mandy. He wasn’t about to squander the opportunity.
Wrapping his arms around her back, he felt how solid she was, how strong. He’d been surprised this morning too, when he’d lifted her into his truck, and later at the funeral parlor, when he’d pulled her up from the floor with his hands on her upper arms. Her toned biceps put some of the cops he worked with to shame.
She felt more compact than he would have expected from how he remembered her, like she’d traded in the curves she’d had in high school for a more athletic physique, going in the opposite direction of most women, who tended to fill out after high school. It was a subtle difference he hadn’t noticed before because she dressed so conservatively now—sweaters and jeans as opposed to tight tops and miniskirts—but holding her like this, it was a difference he could feel. She must work out regularly to feel this compact.
Soft and curvy, lean and strong. Didn’t matter to him. He had a feeling he would have enjoyed this hug just as much if she’d put on weight since high school like his sisters had. Mandy could look any which way, and she’d still be perfect to him.
He felt her hands curl into fists behind his neck. She was holding onto him fiercely enough to remind him of that moment in Grip’s kitchen when she’d touched him after spilling her coffee. Like in that moment, he thought maybe she felt something for him, and maybe, if he was lucky, it was a tenth as powerful as what he felt for her.
Not that this was the
Her eyes widened. The blush in her cheeks deepened. “No thanks,” she said, averting her gaze to that dark, depressing trailer. “I could probably use some alone time. You know, to think about Dad.” It sounded like something she thought she was supposed to say, not like what she wanted to say.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t sound sure.
He made up his mind to give her a couple hours of space and then come back. She shouldn’t have to spend the day of her father’s funeral alone. It was also Christmas Eve. No one should be alone on Christmas Eve.
“Thanks for everything today.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “I wanted to be mad at you for changing the service. But it was beautiful. Dad would have loved it.”
Her praise warmed his heart. He was glad she liked what he’d done. When they’d planned the funeral together on Saturday, he was still finding his way with her. He hadn’t wanted to go against the decisions she’d made. She was Grip’s daughter. Surely she’d know best what he would have wanted.
But after he’d gone away and had a chance to think about it, it occurred to him she hadn’t known Grip. Not really. Grip had never let her get to know him. Cole had decided to contact Hansen on his own and tweak a few things to help her out. He was extra glad the military honors had come out so well. It was right that Mandy should get a flag to keep. Grip had earned it serving his country.
She cleared her throat. “And the visitation. That was a good idea. Thanks.”
Good. She wasn’t PO’d about that. “You’re welcome. You picked an awesome casket. That was all you.” It had been off-white and trimmed with chrome. Some might have called it over the top, but it reminded him of Gripper’s Harley. Strong, loud and in your face. Come to think of it, it fit Gripper to a T as well.
She huffed. “Thanks. Hopefully casket selection isn’t a skill I’ll get to use much, but just in case, I’m glad I’m good at it.”
She tugged the handle to open the door. He braced himself to say goodbye to her, but she turned back to him suddenly. Reaching over the console, she pulled him into a hug.
He went willingly, bending to gather her as close as he could. This might be his only chance to ever hug Mandy. He wasn’t about to squander the opportunity.
Wrapping his arms around her back, he felt how solid she was, how strong. He’d been surprised this morning too, when he’d lifted her into his truck, and later at the funeral parlor, when he’d pulled her up from the floor with his hands on her upper arms. Her toned biceps put some of the cops he worked with to shame.
She felt more compact than he would have expected from how he remembered her, like she’d traded in the curves she’d had in high school for a more athletic physique, going in the opposite direction of most women, who tended to fill out after high school. It was a subtle difference he hadn’t noticed before because she dressed so conservatively now—sweaters and jeans as opposed to tight tops and miniskirts—but holding her like this, it was a difference he could feel. She must work out regularly to feel this compact.
Soft and curvy, lean and strong. Didn’t matter to him. He had a feeling he would have enjoyed this hug just as much if she’d put on weight since high school like his sisters had. Mandy could look any which way, and she’d still be perfect to him.
He felt her hands curl into fists behind his neck. She was holding onto him fiercely enough to remind him of that moment in Grip’s kitchen when she’d touched him after spilling her coffee. Like in that moment, he thought maybe she felt something for him, and maybe, if he was lucky, it was a tenth as powerful as what he felt for her.
Not that this was the
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