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His lack of Christmas cheer is not my problem.
Tuesdays are my favorite day of the week. I know it’s a random, odd choice. But Tuesdays have a certain hope to them. The week is in full swing. Monday is over. Hump day hasn’t arrived yet.
Best of all, Tuesdays are my office day at City Hall. City Hall is one of my absolute favorite places in town. It’s the most magnificent old building, styled after a classic Bavarian chalet. Plus, it’s decorated to the hilt for the holidays. Of course it is. I’d have to write the city a ticket if it weren’t. Don’t think I wouldn’t do it, either.
It’s the tree that makes my heart race a little faster each and every time I see it. Over fifteen feet tall with glittering lights and an ornament for every family in Reindeer Falls. How cool is that? It’s an old tradition dating way back to the founding of the town itself. Just one of the many little touches that make this place so special. The magic so real.
Every time a new family moves into Reindeer Falls the city has an ornament created for them, a wooden reindeer—of course—with their address and family name engraved into the wood. It’s a way of adding those people to the real family—the Reindeer Falls family.
I hope no one bothered to order one yet for stupid Ryan Sheppard, 36 Candy Cane Lane.
Still, I do hate to give up on anyone. Especially at the holidays. I mean, isn’t that what the holidays are all about? Redemption? Or am I mixing that up with the moral of A Christmas Carol? Well, either way, maybe it’s worth asking Santa to turn Ryan into a regular, Christmas-loving person?
That’d probably be a waste of a Santa wish. Not that they’re unlimited, but I do try not to ask for more than my fair share. Maybe I should just wish for seeing Ryan naked instead. That’s likely a way more obtainable goal.
I know, I know. Asking Santa for kinky wishes is a little risqué, but Sutton and Lexi aren’t wrong about the lack of eligible men around here. Besides, a girl can dream, right?
And Ryan Sheppard really is jingleicious.
Grr, I need to stop thinking about him. He’s a lost cause, for sure. And probably not into deranged elves.
I blow an errant curl out of my face and focus on the good as I head for the office. Along the way, I wave at everyone, and they all wave back. Not a frown to be seen. I stop at the Honey Jam Cafe and grab a to-go coffee for my walk in to work. The air is crisp, the sky is clear and the Christmas music is tuned on the speakers discreetly installed all along Main Street. Once I’m inside City Hall I take a moment to stop and enjoy the tree, sipping on the last of my coffee before heading to my borrowed office.
I’m ten feet away when I hear a familiar deep, gruff voice.
“I just want to pay the fines,” he’s saying. “And move on with my life.”
“Well, sir, we can’t accept the payment until the violation has been corrected,” a squeak of a voice objects.
I can’t help but smile. It sounds like Ryan Sheppard’s met Judy, the longest-serving holiday enforcement officer on the field, a tiny but fierce lady with a white bob, big red-framed glasses and a smile that never falters.
“But I don’t want to correct the violations,” he says. “Because I’m going to sell the house.”
That’s my cue.
I glide into the office with a big smile. “May I help you, Mr. Sheppard?”
His eyes snap to mine, just as devastatingly blue as I remembered. He’s not in sweatpants today. Nope, today it’s jeans that fit him far too well and some kind of thermal-looking shirt under a leather jacket. The shirt does nothing to hide those rock-solid abs I know he’s got. If he’s so hellbent on leaving the very least he could do is hide himself under an ugly sweater.
Ugh, I’m such a pervert.
I’m at work, I remind myself. Be professional.
“Listen,” Ryan says, voice practically a growl that does nothing to make me stop objectifying him. “I don’t have time for your ginger nonsense. I just want to pay these fines so I can list the house and get the hell out of town.”
“Well, you heard Judy,” I reply, blinking in what I hope is a vision of pure innocence. “You need to correct the violations first. Otherwise the fines just keep accumulating. Did you want to schedule a day for me to stop by and verify the violations have been resolved?”
Ryan steps closer, and listen, I know I’m a little deranged, but I’m not imagining the heat between us. At least, I don’t think I am. Pretty sure.
