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Oh.
Ohhhh.
And Lexi dodged me completely when I asked her about Carter! I’m positive she mentioned something about having a crush on him back in the day, back before he became a famous athlete. When he was just the star player on the Reindeer Falls High baseball team.
Those rascals! I can’t ticket them, but this will reflect in their Christmas gifts. The ones I give them for Christmas in July, obviously. It wouldn’t do to be miserly in December.
“Okay then.” I clap my hands together, glancing at the stairs. “Which one is your bedroom?”
His lips twitch.
“Bold move, Mags,” he says, tossing his coat on a coat hook by the door before turning to give me his full attention. His full attention, which includes a lazy grin that makes my stomach flip. “No foreplay at all, huh? Just getting straight to the point.”
I blush, eyes wide. I’m sure of it, because it’s the only thing that would make me feel more called out in this moment.
“The door to the attic is in the primary bedroom,” I squeak. “That’s where Lexi said the decorations are.” Which is all I was talking about. Really. Even if I have imagined Ryan naked a time or three, that request to see his bedroom was totally innocent.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, but his lips are still threatening a smile. “If you say so.”
He turns and gestures, indicating I should head up the stairs as he follows. So at least he’s not kicking me out. I’ve sufficiently cracked open the door to his Grinch heart enough to allow Christmas décor. I bet no other holiday enforcement officer could’ve done this.
Also, is he looking at my butt right now?
Because he didn’t exactly say no to the idea of sexy times, did he?
As distracting as the idea of learning how Ryan might architect a sexual romp is, I’m getting an eyeful of the house and I’m smitten. The woodwork on the banister is even better up close. The striped wallpaper on the wall leading upstairs needs to go, but that’s an easy fix. Green carpet upstairs, but I’m willing to bet Frosty himself that there are hardwoods underneath.
Also, for someone who said that they were “throwing stuff away,” I’m surprised by how much of the house looks… preserved. Like Joe still lives here. Like his sofa’s just waiting for him to come back and take a seat. That familiar sadness creeps back, but I push it aside again and follow Ryan to the bedroom.
Again, the room’s a little dated, but the bones are solid. The architecture’s vintage Tudor, with lots of oak and details that look straight out of a European cottage. There’s also a giant bed that I do my best to ignore. It looks so cozy, though, so inviting, so easy to fall onto… but I ignore it, watching as Ryan opens a door that I think will be a closet, but no. It’s better.
“A walk-up attic?” I gasp. This is all my real estate Candy Cane Lane fantasies come true.
Before Ryan can say a word I’ve got my foot on the first step.
That’s when Ryan catches my wrist in his hand.
“Wait,” he says, and his voice is low and gruff again. “Maggie, I need to say something.”
Oh, great. He’s going to try to get out of decorating again. Well, I didn’t make it this far to turn back, so he might as well stop now. I’m about to open my mouth and say just that when he presses one finger to my lips.
Which is… nice. Even if I should be furious that he’s shushing me, all I can think is yes, yes, yes, touch me again.
“I wanted to apologize,” he says. “I’ve been… sort of a dick.”
I raise both eyebrows. “Sort of” doesn’t cover it.
He drops his finger, which I hate. I also hate that I hate it.
“I have complicated feelings about this town,” he says. “I always thought my dreams were too big for this place. And it hasn’t been easy being here in my uncle’s house. Without him.” He runs a hand through his hair, glancing around the room. “Christmas never really spoke to me. But I know Uncle Joe loved it. Hell, my best memories of Christmas were when we came to Uncle Joe’s. So, sure, maybe I owe it to him to give this whole decorating thing a shot.”
It’s the hottest thing a man has ever said to me. For a girl like me, that’s straight-up seduction, via the promise of string lights. It’s made hotter by the fact that he moves closer to me, reaches up, and brushes snow out of my hair.
“Anyway,” he says. “It’s no excuse for behaving like a dick, but I just wanted you to know. You’re right that I need to put some effort into this place, and I plan to. My uncle, and Reindeer Falls… deserve that much.”
