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“Obviously.” Sutton nods like it’s no biggie, waving the question away like she can just drop that into the conversation and we’re not going to interrogate her about it.
“Oh, snap,” Lexi says, looking at Sutton with wide eyes. “I guess that situation really escalated.”
“Yeah.” I stare at Sutton, eyes narrowed. “I thought you said Jake Sheppard was your archnemesis.”
“I just think you should be careful,” Sutton continues, completely ignoring the attempt to sidetrack her with an inquisition into her own sex life.
As if I’m a child who can’t take care of herself.
“Whatevs,” I say, refusing to buy into their obnoxious pessimism. Clearly, they’re lacking Christmas spirit this year. That’s why they wanted to switch up our book club into boring memoirs and whatever. But I know Ryan and I have something. I’m delusional, but not so delusional that I can’t see what’s right in front of me.
To prove my point, I add, “He told me to come over later because he wants to tell me something, and I think he’s probably going to ask me to spend Christmas with him.”
Sutton and Lexi both offer me smiles at that, but they’re weak. Then Sutton asks if we can focus on the book because she has some thoughts on character development, and just like that, the topic of Ryan Sheppard is closed. I’d be annoyed, but I’m easily wooed by a chance to defend the book in question because the trope is my favorite. Instalove.
Besides, what does it matter if my friends don’t get it? I’m the one in the relationship. I’m the one who’s going to hear Ryan Sheppard say three magical words today.
No, not I love you.
Three different magical words.
Spend Christmas with me.
Okay, yeah that’s four words. Whatever.
I’m already tingling at the thought of it. He’ll say those words, and I’ll crush my mouth to his, and he’ll sweep me up in his arms and we’ll have sex in the snow.
Okay, maybe not literally snow. That would be cold.
But nearby. With snow falling across the windows.
Because that’s the power of Christmas magic in Reindeer Falls, baby.
I don’t think I’ll ever get over walking up to Ryan’s house and seeing it covered in Christmas decorations. Each one seems like a personal love note to me, and I can’t help but be proud of myself. I didn’t just get Ryan to believe in the spirit of Christmas. I got him to embrace the joy of it.
The thought makes me smile, and I practically skip my way up to the door, feeling as light as a marshmallow. A small-batch, organic marshmallow, even.
Tonight, Ryan’s going to tell me he’s staying in Reindeer Falls. We’ll probably be exchanging I love yous by Valentine’s Day. Vacationing together by summer. Engaged by next Christmas.
Gah, I know, I know! I’m ridiculous.
We’ll probably be eloping by next Christmas. We’ll spend our honeymoon touring Christmas markets in Europe. Can you even imagine? I can. I really, really can.
I knock, and he opens the door almost immediately. His smile is so bright, so wide, that I can barely comprehend how I thought his grumpy frowns were hot. His smiles are next-level hot. This is how he should look every minute of every day.
And I’m the one who put that smile on his face.
“There you are,” he says. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”
And then he scoops me up in his arms and kisses me like there’s no tomorrow. He’s warm and delicious—he tastes like chocolate-chip cookies, and he best have saved me some. Behind us, the lights of his Christmas tree flicker, bathing us in the glow of reds and greens.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says. “I picked up dinner at Gingersnap’s. It’s on the table.”
He motions to the dining room. It’s a sweet gesture, and I smile, even if I do wish he’d ordered a pizza so that I had time to get his pants off before dinner. But it’s fine, his pants will still be there after we eat.
Also, it’s very romantic. He’s so thoughtful, Ryan. And a private dinner at home is the perfect place for us to discuss the future.
I smooth out my navy blue velvet dress and take a seat at the old mahogany table. I glance around the house, marveling again at its charm. If I had to, I could sell this house in minutes. Off market, multiple offers.
Not that I will, of course. He’s not going anywhere.
Ryan sits next to me and takes my hand.
“I can’t wait any longer, Maggie,” he tells me. “I have to tell you something.”
Oh, wow. Wow. Is he… is he jumping right into I love you? It’s a tad early, but ’tis the season, am I right? It feels like twelve tiny reindeer are flying around my stomach, frantic with nerves. I want to remember this moment forever. I squeeze Ryan’s hand and lean closer so that I don’t miss a single word.
