Coming Home for Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

so I can see what I’ve got to work with?”
    He hadn’t been into all the rooms since he’d returned home himself. More specifically, he hadn’t seen most of the rooms since he’d left home ten years ago.
    Even when he’d returned yesterday, he’d deliberately remained downstairs, sleeping on the living room sofa. When he’d woken up after a less than restful night, he’d ventured only as far as the kitchen to make himself some breakfast.
    As for the rest of the house—his room, Amy’s, his mother’s bedroom, the bonus room they used for a TV room—he hadn’t gone into any of it. And he wanted to keep it that way until he felt up to viewing the other rooms—if that time came.
    But saying anything of the kind to this woman felt far too personal.
    Keith supposed he could just beg off, or murmur some noncommittal excuse that accomplished the same thing. But he had a feeling this woman wasn’t the type to accept no for an answer, at least not without a really good reason.
    To be fair, he decided to make one attempt at accommodating her while maintaining the balance he was searching for.
    â€œYou can just find your own way through the house. I don’t mind if you poke around,” he added, thinking she probably wanted a chance to review what might sell and what just needed to be carted away.
    The smile was lightning fast as she attempted to coax him into accompanying her. “I’m bound to have questions,” she told him. When he made no response, thinking she’d take the hint, she just continued. “If you come along as my guide, it’ll go faster that way. I promise.” Turning on her heel, she led the way to the staircase.
    He was really beginning to regret this.

Chapter Three
    W alking ahead of him, Kenzie had just managed to climb up one step on the staircase when melodic chimes announced that there was someone on the other side of the front door.
    Keith looked from the door back to the woman standing just ahead of him. He was hard-pressed to say which bothered him more—going upstairs with the woman he was still trying to place, or dealing with what had to be a prospective buyer. He wanted the house emptied almost as much as he wanted it sold. He just didn’t want to be the one dealing with either firsthand.
    Looking at his expression, Kenzie could almost read his mind. It occurred to her that for a relatively uncommunicative man, Keith didn’t keep his thoughts all that well hidden.
    â€œIt’s too soon for a prospective buyer to be turning up on your doorstep, and even if there was one this fast, he or she would be coming in with Mrs. Sommers. They wouldn’t be here on their own, ringing your doorbell—I’m assuming you gave her a set of keys.”
    How had he forgotten that? Though he hated to admit it, even to himself, all of this had shaken him up more than he thought it would.
    â€œYes, I did,” he answered.
    As if on cue, the doorbell rang again, sounding a little more demanding this time around, if that was actually possible.
    Kenzie withdrew from the first step, facing him squarely, toe-to-toe. “I can get that for you if you’d like,” she offered.
    â€œNo, thanks. I can answer it myself,” he retorted stiffly, then glanced at her expectantly.
    It took her a second, but again, she seemed to sense what he was thinking. “Why don’t I just start the tour without you?” she offered.
    His grunt told her that she’d guessed right again. “That sounds good.”
    Having no other recourse, Kenzie turned back around and went up the stairs. It was only after she had reached the landing and the doorbell had rung for a third time that she heard any sort of movement on the floor below. Keith was finally opening his front door.
    Kenzie shook her head. She remembered a far different Keith. While not exactly gregarious, he’d been popular and friendly. What