PAPER STARS: An Ordinary Magic Story(7)

I reached across the table with my spoon and scooped all of the whipped cream off his pie.

“Hey.”

I stuffed the entire pile in my mouth and gave him a what-you-gonna-do-about-it look.

“Baby.” Was all Ryder seemed able to get out. But it was enough.

That word was love.

“Hey.” I swallowed the sweet cream then took a quick sip of coffee. “There is a storm headed inland. It’s going to dump a lot of snow in the passes. Do you think you should wait until it blows through?”

“No. I want to be home. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“Just…don’t push it if it looks too bad.”

“I won’t.”

“Call me before you leave. And make sure you have a full tank of gas.”

“And cold weather gear, chains, water, granola bars and jerky. I’m only three hours away, Delaney, not trekking across Siberia.”

“A hundred and ninety-one miles, Ryder. There are two mountain ranges between us.”

“You think a couple mountain ranges could keep me from spending Christmas with you?”

“If they’re going to throw a blizzard at your head? Maybe.”

“Let them try. I’m still coming home. Blizzard or no blizzard.”

“Okay.”

“Delaney.” Soft, intimate. “I’ll be home for Christmas.”

“Don’t you start quoting songs at me.”

He chuckled, and just like that, things felt better again. Things felt right. “Jean’s right,” he said. “You have no Christmas spirit.”

“Excuse me? You’re taking my sister’s side on this?”

He laughed. “It’s okay. Not everyone gets into the season like Jean gets into well, everything.”

“Right?” I said feeling vindicated. “It’s been Jingle Bells 24/7 since before Thanksgiving. Before Thanksgiving, Ryder.”

“Totally rude of her.”

“You know what I want for Christmas?” I asked. “Ear plugs. And therapy.”

“Maybe if you’re a good girl, Santa will bring you both. Or you could just ask him. Are you sure Santa isn’t…around?”

“Santa doesn’t live in Ordinary, Ryder,” I told him for the hundredth time. “I’m sure we are not the North Pole.”

“It’s Mr. Kristofferson, isn’t it?”

His guesses were getting better, and by better I meant total bull’s-eye. Man had good instincts. But I wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

“If Santa lived here, don’t you think I’d tell you?”

Bathin tsked at my lie.

“I think you’d wait until Mr. Kristofferson saw me doing something naughty so he wouldn’t bring me any presents.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”

“I’ve had time to do a lot of thinking lately.”

“Oh?”

“About a lot of things.”

“Naughty things?”

“Always.”

This was not the time or place for dirty talk. There was a family of six plowing through a full turkey dinner just one booth down, and everyone else in the diner had to be over ninety years old.

Still, I tucked my head toward the window, cupped my phone, and pressed my face close to it trying to keep this on the down-low.

“Tell me,” I breathed.

“Did you just put on a ski mask?”

“No.” I moved my hand. “What naughty things are you thinking?”

An old man one table over grinned at me. He did that two-finger point-at-eye thing then point-at-me thing.

I raised one eyebrow like I didn’t know what he was insinuating.

He made a circle with his pointer finger and thumb then thrust his other index finger into the hole several times.

Nope. No. I was not going to sit here and watch some old guy make dirty sex signals at me.

“Like I bet you haven’t even gotten a Christmas tree yet,” Ryder rumbled. “Or decorated it. Or put up any Christmas lights. Shame, shame, Delaney.”

This was naughty talk? A Christmas tree?

“Lights are up and twinkling, Mr. Judgy McJudgerson.” I had put them up yesterday. Just a single string across the mantle above the fireplace. But still. That counted.

“And the tree?”

“Chopped, dropped, and propped in the living room. Covered in bows, bulbs, and balls.” That, was a complete lie.

“Well.” He sounded impressed. “I stand corrected.”

“Yes, you do. I have Christmas spirit oozing from the top of my nog to the bottom of my mistletoes.”

“Tree and everything,” he said with a chuckle again. I liked the sound of it. “You know one of my favorite Christmas memories?”

“No.”

“When I was a kid, I would lie under the Christmas tree and stare up at the lights in the boughs.”

“Okay?”

The old guy shifted at his table so he was in my line of vision again. He jabbed his finger in and out of his ear.

I did not want to know what kind of sex move he thought that was.

“This year, I’m going to make a new memory,” Ryder said. “I’m going to lie you down under that tree, Delaney Reed.”