A Copper Ridge Christmas. Maisey Yates

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      They’d cared once. Before it had all faded away. Before her mother had realized her little red-headed daughter wouldn’t keep her husband from sleeping with other women or disappearing for days at a time. Before she’d realized Holly wasn’t a Band-Aid.

      Before Holly had betrayed her in the worst way possible.

      She looked up and caught Ryan’s eye and her heart stopped for a moment. His expression was intense, focused. “I can see you just fine,” he said, his voice rough.

      She wanted to touch him. Wanted to do something to extend the connection between them. She wanted—

      Just then, Cassie came over and set Ryan’s coffee and biscotti on the table before quickly walking away, obviously not wanting to interrupt their conversation.

      Ryan picked up the biscotti first, and the moment of tension between them was gone. “I called Margie a couple of hours ago.”

      “About?”

      “Arrangements for picking her and Dan up at the airport. And to ask her a favor.”

      She pushed the plate that had once held her biscotti back, then pulled it forward, looking for something, anything to do with her nervous energy. “What kind of favor?”

      “Not a huge one. But you wanted this party to be a tribute to a Margie Travers party, and...when I think of her parties, I think of the village. The little snowy village she put on the mantels. And her garlands, with the shiny ribbon and the little berries in them.”

      Holly nodded. “Me too.”

      “So I asked her if she minded if I went and borrowed some of her decorations. She said it was fine, and she didn’t even give me the third degree, though I have a feeling she’s decided I want to impress a woman, even though I would never use Christmas decorations to impress a woman.”

      Holly wrinkled her nose, not particularly wanting to imagine what Ryan did with women. Ever. “What would you use?” She couldn’t hold back the question. Apparently, something inside her was masochistic.

      “My boat.”

      “No way.”

      “Women like my boat.”

      She wrinkled her nose. “Not me.”

      “I guess that’s why you didn’t make a pass at me when you came aboard yesterday.”

      Her whole face felt hot and she looked down, desperate for a focal point that wasn’t his face. “Among the many other reasons. Anyway, thank you for talking to Margie, but I can use the decorations I have. I don’t have a key to their house. And I would feel funny about going in by myself.”

      “I have a key,” he said.

      “You do?” She resisted the urge to ask why he had a key and she didn’t.

      “Yes. And I could go with you.” He sounded pained, and obnoxiously long-suffering.

      “Well that’s...nice. If a bit grudging.”

      “I’m flattered you think I’m nice, Holly.”

      “And grudging!”

      “I’m focusing on the ‘nice’ part.”

      She made a scoffing sound and took her jacket off the back of her chair, then hurriedly packed up her laptop and notebook, bundling up before following him outside into the darkening evening. It wasn’t quite five, but the sky was already starting to turn a deeper blue as the sun sank into the sea.

      “I walked over,” he said. “Do you mind driving?”

      “No, I’m just parked down the block.”

      The businesses on the main street were starting to close. Only restaurants stayed open past dark during the winter months. Rebekah Bear was standing outside the souvenir store, bringing in her signs and flags for the night, and she waved as Holly and Ryan passed.

      White lights, strung around the various buildings, suddenly lit up as the sky continued to darken. Holly had lived in Copper Ridge for most of her life, but Christmas in the beautiful town was still remarkable to her. Walking beside Ryan, she was struck by a feeling of intimacy. He was tall and warm and she found herself wanting to lean into him. To brush her hand against his.

      Nope. Nope nope nope.

      She took a step away from him, to get a hold of her wayward fantasies. She was suddenly less focused on the town, and much more focused on just getting to her car, a little white beacon in the dimness.

      “It’s unlocked,” she said, jerking open the driver side door and getting in, fishing her key out of her bottomless bag before jamming it into the ignition.

      He got in after her, closing the door, and she suddenly realized that her car was not the safe haven she had been imagining it might be. It certainly did nothing to dispel the tension that she felt between them. Tension that Ryan was probably completely oblivious to, because Ryan had always been oblivious to the way he made her feel. Good thing, too.

      He had no idea how many fantasies she’d woven around him as a young teenager. Had no idea that when he’d moved out of Margie and Dan’s a few months after she’d moved in, she’d spent the evening watching “It’s A Wonderful Life” and crying while eating a tub of ice cream.

      He had no clue about any of that, and he would never know that even though she didn’t have feelings for him anymore, per se, there were still some nights when she had trouble sleeping, and thoughts of him would enter her sleepy brain. That on those nights, feelings for him would take over her restless body. He didn’t need to know that it was the easiest thing in the world, on those nights, to slip her hands between her thighs and think of...

      Yeah, he did not need to know any of that, and she didn’t need to be thinking that while they were closed up inside her car. Honestly, how had she thought this would be less uncomfortable than the open street?

      Neither of them said anything as she drove out on the main road, away from town and up toward the winding back road that led to the houses set into the hills that overlooked the ocean. There was a run of vacation rentals, a small gated community, and then a few larger houses on the street. At the very end of it was the massive West Family Ranch, the largest equine facility in Copper Ridge. Though it was currently getting a run for its money thanks to Jack Monaghan and his ranch, if rumors were to be believed.

      The Travers family home was between the gated community and the West Ranch. It was a stunning, two-story house with a beautiful yard, tall, stately pine trees standing behind it, and a view of the ocean through large bay windows.

      It was the kind of home she’d imagined only existed in movies when she’d been a child. Being allowed to come inside had been beyond her wildest fantasies. To actually live here? To stay and to attend parties? It had been like something out of a dream.

      Being taken away from her parents by Child Protective Services had been terrifying. Leaving everything she knew, even when what she knew was bleak, was frightening. But then she’d seen this house. Margie СКАЧАТЬ