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“No!” I say, far too quickly. “No, I swear on the Reindeer Falls holiday enforcement brigade handbook, I’m not sleeping with him.”
Yet, my traitorous mind thinks.
“You’re so on Santa’s naughty list for lying to me.” Lexi laughs. “Which I didn’t think was possible, you know, considering you’re an elf.”
She has the nerve to pat me on the head like I’m twelve. And okay, yes, I am petite. And yes, I have to get literally everything I own altered to make it fit like it’s supposed to. And I never had any problems with hide and seek as a kid because I could fit in any nook and cranny. But I’m a grown woman now, and I’d like to be treated like one.
Especially by someone like Ryan Sheppard.
My blush must intensify, because Lexi’s eyes widen in delight.
“Oh, wait until I tell Sutton,” she says. “Maggie’s got a big, fat, Santa-sized crush.”
“I do not,” I lie, again. “If anything, he’s a royal Grinch in the ass.”
“Butt stuff at Christmas? Wow. You really do go all out for the holidays, don’t you?” Lexi doesn’t even wait for a response on that one. She’s too busy laughing at herself.
“You’re impossible,” I mutter. “Let’s just get these candles and get out of here.”
“Don’t forget one for Ryan,” Lexi tells me. “Christmas hook-ups are so awkward if only one of you shows up with a gift.”
I stick my tongue out at her, and she skips off to the checkout line. And I shouldn’t, I definitely shouldn’t be considering getting Ryan Sheppard a candle. Not even a Grinch candle, just in case. Though I do think it’d fit his vibe quite nicely. My fingers even dare to brush against the label before I snatch my hand back, chagrined at my own foolish Christmas fantasies.
Ryan Sheppard and I will never be a thing. Not even a quick Christmas fling. Besides, I’m more of a ‘kisses under the mistletoe’ than a ‘tryst with a naughty Santa’ kind of girl.
Contrary to whatever Lexi thinks, I’m not going to Ryan Sheppard’s house because I want to. No, I’m going because I have to.
Because it’s my duty.
And besides, it would feel like backing down from a challenge if I told him I’d be checking on the violations and then I didn’t. He’s expecting me to check, surely.
Isn’t he?
Not that it matters. I would be here, at his recently inherited house, whether or not he was expecting me. Because he has been given the appropriate amount of time to rectify his Christmas decorations, or, more exactly, his lack of Christmas decorations. And because time is ticking. The Christmas season just flies by if you let it get away from you, and then the next thing you know it’s the middle of December and there’s a sad unlit house in the middle of Candy Cane Lane.
No. That won’t do. Not on my watch.
Besides, I decided last night when I was definitely not fantasizing about Ryan Sheppard and what kind of architectural skills he brings to the bedroom that Ryan is a Grinch. There’s no getting around it. But for every Grinch, there is also a Cindy Lou Who, someone who can drag that Grinch over to the right side of Christmas. Someone who can show them that the magic is real, that Christmas is worth believing in. Worth celebrating. Worth the hype, even.
Someone needs to be his Cindy Lou Who. And really, why not me? In the spirit of Christmas, of course. Besides, it’s my job. Basically. Close enough. The point is, I have an arsenal of charm, charisma, Christmas knowledge, and the Reindeer Falls guidelines for holiday decorating memorized. Those are the only tools I’ll need to bring him over to the ho-ho-holiday side of things.
So it is in my favorite red plaid dress that I arrive on his doorstep bright and early. I did think about forgoing my elf hat, since even I have to admit the idea of wearing jingle bells on my head in front of Ryan Sheppard is a little, well, embarrassing… but then I remember that I am a holiday enforcement officer, which means I am Christmas spirit incarnate. In order to fulfill all of my job duties, I have to go all in.
It doesn’t matter that Ryan’s a perfect male specimen. Or that he’s likely never met a woman with a jingle bell hat collection. I have a job to do, and that job is showing Ryan Sheppard the true meaning of Christmas. Via holiday décor.
So I steady myself. I take a deep breath and focus on the house in front of me, already envisioning my lighting game plan. It’s during this look that my breath actually catches. I’m struck again by how much I love this house. As a realtor, it’s impossible to ignore. The house is beautiful, white with pale green trim. The paint is wearing a bit in some places, and I suspect the roof needs replacing. But the charm is there, and with a little elbow grease, it could be very, very special.
