Unforgettable Christmas Dreams: Gifts of Joy

by Rebecca York

  He thought of Serenity—with the blue sparkling dress and fake lashes. “Nope. I’m good.”

  Bob stopped for a torn plastic grocery bag dancing in the warm ocean breeze, his body lean and limber. “You must get hit on all the time, driving around the beach. Is there anyone special?”

  “You’re starting to sound like my mom.”

  Bob burst out laughing. “All right. I’ll stop with the inquisition—and keep my eye out for any beautiful, intelligent ladies interested in ocean clean-up.”

  Seeing Serenity yesterday had finally freed him from the past. “We’ll see what the New Year brings.”

  ***

  Serenity tapped in the code to unlock the side gate of the house and pick up Cyrus for his walk. The dog actually wagged his tail to greet her and she gave his ears a scratch. “Hey, boy. You remember me? No more tripping me up.”

  She got an early start, in an effort to avoid seeing Ryker this morning.

  She’d decided to take Cyrus first, then Sweet Pea, and the two smallest dogs together. Her problem yesterday had been being over-ambitious and not understanding her own limitations.

  Besides, this way she could totally skip the gym. As a model, she had to maintain her figure for the swimsuit shots. Serenity had learned to live with whole wheat bread and pasta, but when she really splurged, she craved a cheeseburger, loaded with mayo, and fries on the side. Her personal trainer insisted that she needed to reward herself every other week with something delicious.

  Tiffany’s house was a minefield of temptation as her sister’s idea of a snack was double nut fudge brownies. Tiff’s go-to for dinner was thick-crust sausage pizza with extra cheese.

  It was good she’d be walking miles a day.

  Feeling much more confident in her role as dog-walker, she was just returning Cyrus to his house across from the beach, when he started to bark and pull at the leash.

  “Hey, now.” He tried to yank forward, but she’d learned her lesson yesterday and had on her sneakers. By shifting her weight onto her back leg, she was able to hold the dog in place.

  Cyrus relaxed, so she relaxed, and then he lunged ahead, bee-lining for the ocean and down a shaded path. He stopped at an outdoor shower and, Ryker?

  “Watch out!” she called.

  Cyrus leapt toward him and Ryker stepped back in surprise. Mortified, she pulled on the leash extra hard.

  “Sit,” he commanded.

  The dog thankfully did. “I’m so sorry! He must have seen you and recognized his buddy from yesterday. I—”

  “It’s fine,” Ryker said. He reached for his t-shirt and that, Serenity thought, was a crying shame. The Ryker she’d known in high school had been lean and wiry—handsome to her, of course, but this Ryker—she almost swallowed her tongue. Lean muscles rippled down his abs, biceps bunched, his pecs were well-defined.

  He could be on a sexy fireman calendar and hold his own in every month. She’d buy it—hell, she’d buy a dozen, one for each room in her apartment.

  “Sorry,” she managed. “Really.”

  “Where are the other dogs?” He looked behind her.

  “I thought I was being smart by walking Cyrus individually.”

  He grinned but ducked his head, smoothing the t-shirt down before patting Cyrus on the back.

  “I guess you made a very positive impression on him yesterday.” It was possible that now she would never be able to get him out of her mind. She would have to get to know the new him the old-fashioned way, as he didn’t have a freaking social media profile. Yeah, she’d been curious, but the only thing she’d found was his picture on the fire department website—very professional, no smile, and his yearbook graduation photo, and his driver’s license picture. It was like he was in the witness protection program or something, but she knew that he was just shy.

  She dared another glance at his now covered abs. “So, what are you up to this early?”

  He nudged two bags of trash at his feet and she realized he was wearing closed-toed sandals made for the beach—cloth bags, not plastic. “Just a little beach clean-up. Bob joins me on Fridays—from the coffee shop?”

  “Oh. That’s awesome.” And like the Ryker she once knew. Tiff had said he practiced what he preached. Cyrus licked Ryker’s hand and she pulled the besotted dog back. “Well, I better get going. Three more to walk.”

  He nodded and turned his attention to the bags.

  She tugged at Cyrus’s leash and after another ten seconds of staring adoringly at Ryker, he padded along beside her. She walked two blocks west, got Cyrus put away with fresh water and a treat, then returned to Ocean Boulevard and the Opal Condominiums to get Sweet Pea.

  And…there was Ryker, now without his trash bags and in flip flops. “Hey again.” She raised her palm. “I swear I’m not stalking you.”

  His sandy blond brow lifted. “Returning to the scene of the fall yesterday?”

  Her cheeks heated and she wished she could disappear. “Sweet Pea lives here.” Which he knew, from yesterday.

  He gave a single nod. They stood awkwardly on the sidewalk—neither sure what to say, or if they should just leave, and yet…

  “I live around here,” Ryker said, waving in the general direction behind him, the opposite way from where she’d just returned Cyrus. “And walk to work. The department is just over there.” He gestured to his right, away from the ocean.

  “That’s nice to be able to walk everywhere.” It added to the small-town vibe she missed in LA.

  “Yeah.” He put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “So, I looked you up online yesterday. I’d never heard of that type of job before. An influencer.”

  He’d looked her up too? Her stomach fluttered. The elderly doorman brought Sweet Pea to her on the sidewalk before the condominium. He was on the phone, so didn’t chat, then returned to the air conditioning inside.

  She held the pup’s leash. “It’s an exploding field right now—I like knowing I can make a difference.”

  “Like with the paper straws? Bob was telling me about that this morning.”

  She chuckled. “The conversation has to start somewhere—I was contacted by a woman in Peru who has a legit invention that might be the next best thing. She’s going to send me some samples—they should be here next week. I’ll bring them to the coffee shop so we can try them out.” Oh, dang it. That sounded like she was trying to see him again.

  His half-smile was non-committal. Fine. She’d share her straws with Bob. Bob didn’t make her all tormented inside. Ryker had her second-guessing everything. She wanted to be his friend, but how could she when she also wanted to drag him behind a sand dune and…

  “So,” she said, leaning down to pet Sweet Pea and hide her flaming face. “What is it that you want to do with your life? Or is this it?”

  His brows slammed together as if she’d just insulted him. “I like my life.”

  Retreat! “Sorry—wrong words.” She held up a palm. “You told me yesterday about plastic and marine life, and this morning I discovered that you’re cleaning up trash on a weekly basis.”

  “Yeah?” Ryker crossed his arms, his blue eyes narrowed. His sandy blond hair glinted in the rising sunlight of early morning. He was so handsome that all he had to do was lead the charge and he’d have followers. So, where did he want to go? She could help him get there.

  “I was just wondering if there is something that I can do for your cause?”

  “I don’t have a cause.” He half-stepped away from her. “I do what I do for me.”

  “Well, sort of you do, though.” She stopped him by touching his hard forearm—the fine hairs soft over muscle. Sweet Pea sniffed the edges of the sidewalk. “Ocean clean-up is a big deal. There’s a national coastal clean-up day, September 21st.”

  He shuffled uncomfortably--shyly. “I just do my part.”

  “What if you could do more? By sharing your story?” Companies paid her a lot of money to endorse them. And why the hell was she suddenly in
terested in being in his life? That was a recipe for trouble, but she couldn’t help herself from offering. In fact, the company she was working with who offered sea salt face scrubs needed a cause to get behind to lift them from obscurity. Ryker and…what was the name of that company? Satin Scrub. Yeah. Maybe she could put them together.

  Sweet Pea waddled toward the strip of grass between the sidewalk and street and piddled. There was a slight tightening of skin around Ryker’s mouth, but he didn’t share what he was thinking.

  She yanked her gaze from his full lips. “You have my card. Let me show you what I do.” For some reason she wanted him to respect her. He might have pushed her away all those years ago, but she was successful—maybe because of his rejection.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Say hi to Tiff.” He raised his hand and crossed the street away from the ocean and the park where she was going to take Sweet Pea. He walked confidently, his hand in his pocket, the t-shirt stretching over his shoulders.

  She could help. “Come on, girl, let’s take our time and really think on this. Satin Scrub—clean face, clean beach? God that’s awful. It needs work.”

  Her gathering of folks willing to chime in and discuss items could make a difference for a business or an idea just getting off the ground. She knew she could make a difference for Ryker. Maybe after proving herself to him, she could actually let his memory go.

  Chapter Five

  Saturday morning there was no dog-walking, so she and Tiffany had a leisurely breakfast of eggs and fruit on the back patio overlooking the Intracoastal. Glitz and Glamour each got half a scrambled egg, which ratcheted up Serenity’s popularity points with the pups.

  “You’re spoiling them,” Tiff said.

  “I’m just practicing for when junior arrives.”

  Tiff’s ankles were swollen and so were her cheeks, and she kept rubbing her belly.

  “Is this normal?” Serenity asked. “Your discomfort?”

  “The midwife says to watch the swelling—keep my feet elevated. I called her last night about chest pains.”

  “Chest pains?” Mild concern morphed into worry instantly. “You could have a heart attack from being pregnant?” She had no clue it was actually dangerous. What was her sister thinking?

  “Calm down—you’re supposed to be calm for me. It’s my ribcage expanding to make room, or my uterus pressing on my diaphragm. Probably.”

  That sounded miserable. “Want me to massage your feet? Your back?”

  Tiffany’s green eyes glimmered with amusement. “Be careful or I might take you up on that.”

  “I’ll do it.” She flexed her fingers. She adored getting massages but rarely had the opportunity to give one.

  “I think I’d rather use my favor another way—can you ride the fire truck with the dogs today?”

  The idea of her bulky sis riding on a jolting fire truck made her wince. “Absolutely. I’d trade ankles with you if I could.”

  Tiff’s gaze narrowed sharply. “We need to get you an elf costume. The only things of mine that will fit are the ears and hat.”

  Serenity bowed her head and groaned. She’d rather be the one jostled than have her sister at risk, but her followers would have a heyday at her expense. It reminded her of the time she’d tried a home hair dye that had transformed her strawberry blond hair to puke green. “I’m going to be like Will Ferrell in Elf—a giant.”

  “We can come up with something,” Tiff soothed, her cheeks turning splotchy. “I’m sorry.” Her chin trembled.

  “It’s fine.” Tiff needed for Serenity to be calm.

  Serenity breathed in, accepting the inevitable. Embarrassment was a smile price to pay for making her sister happy. There had to be a costume shop somewhere that delivered. “I’ll check online.” She pulled out her phone and asked her followers if anybody knew of a place where she could get a two-hour elf costume delivery.

  Tears welled in Tiff’s eyes. “Thank you. God, sorry—this whole crying and emotional thing is enough to make me, well, cry.”

  “I won’t hold it against you. I won’t even take your picture right now to commemorate this bonding moment.” She lifted her phone, keeping her finger away from the photo button.

  “I’d have to shoot you,” Tiffany sniffed. “Now, the dogs have antlers to wear. I dropped off the candy to the station already. Can you hand me my laptop? I’ll help you search.”

  The parade started at four, and Serenity and the dogs were supposed to be at the fire station by three. God bless speedy delivery and online shopping—her fans hadn’t let her down, giving her three options with two-hour time frames.

  She bought two costumes, just in case, and was glad she had—the first one was a large—children’s. Not happening on her five-foot nine body. The other one was very, very low cut, and had a short skirt.

  Standing in her sister’s bedroom before the full-length mirror, Serenity was on the verge of tears herself.

  “I look like Slutty Elf!” She tugged up the bodice, cut low enough to see her belly button.

  Tiffany laughed so hard she had to waddle into the bathroom before she had an accident—reminded her of Sweet Pea.

  The fire department was only eight blocks away, so Serenity decided to walk with Glitz and Glamour. She didn’t make them wear their costumes, and she hid hers beneath a royal blue caftan.

  When she arrived, she checked in with Chief Harding, a barrel-chested man in his fifties with a quick smile of genuine appreciation.

  “I am so glad that you could fill in for Tiffany—she looked miserable when she dropped off the Santa hats and candy yesterday. She gave me a head’s up that you might be taking her place.” He eyed her blue caftan.

  She tugged at the sequined collar. “My costume’s underneath.”

  “Oh—good. Listen, would you like a tour of the station?”

  Serenity had never been inside a fire station and her natural curiosity won out. “I’d love one! Do you mind if I take a few pictures to share on social media?”

  “Not at all,” the chief said. She noticed that Glitz and Glamour were comfortable in the station, greeting three firemen and two firewomen with wagging tails and hand-licks. They were superstars and this was their third time on the parade. She was nervous because it was her first. Where was Ryker?

  She couldn’t ask without giving away her interest in him that wasn’t wanted—by either of them.

  Chief Harding showed her the trucks, hoses, bunks, and the kitchen. There was a large billboard that had several notices on it, one being directions for surviving a rip tide, and the other she recognized as Ryker’s work—regardless of ten years having passed, she still knew him.

  He wanted to clear the ocean of all harmful plastic and gave statistics and percentages that made sense. He’d been great at debate in high school and he used those skills of logic here. She could help him reach more people, and possibly financial backing, and then he could do even more. She had to start with getting him visible first.

  “Hey,” a deep voice said from behind her.

  She turned, her pulse skipping. In his beige t-shirt and cargo shorts, Ryker didn’t seem anywhere near ready to be Santa. He looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower with his sandy blond hair curled above his ears and his face smooth-shaven—she smelled a spice cologne.

  She shifted, drawing the dogs closer to her by their leashes. How could that unfamiliar spicy scent bring on instant attraction? Glitz butted her fingers with a cold dog nose. “Hi.”

  “You’re here instead of Tiffany?”

  She didn’t look away, but it was difficult. His disappointment was evident in his tight jaw. “Tiff’s not feeling well—you get me.” She smiled and batted her lashes like a girl in a cartoon, trying to be funny.

  He straightened to his full height, back rigid, his hand in his pocket. “Okay.”

  She could tell it wasn’t okay and almost cried. Why couldn’t he at least be nice, even if he didn’t care for her? He stared at her eyes. “What?�
� she asked, touching the ruffled edge of her lashes.

  “Why are you wearing those?” His blue orbs flashed, and pink tinged his throat. “You don’t need them.”

  “Ohhhhh,” one of the firemen said. “Ryker, I thought you were smart.” The man shook his head. “Not.”

  She pulled upright and tightened her grip on the dog’s leashes. Glitz and Glamour each had on their plaid monogrammed collars. Glitz wore a red harness and Glamour a green. He had a problem with her lashes? Were they not serious enough of an issue?

  “These are mink extensions. I’ve agreed to wear them for three months to see how they feel, and how they handle daily wear.” Ryker nodded to show he was listening, but she could tell he still thought they were frivolous. “For ladies, or men, without lashes due to chemo or cancer, or that thing where you lose all of your body hair?” She could never pronounce the name. “Appa—”

  “Alopecia,” the chief said. “My wife’s cousin had it.” He peered at her lashes.

  She blinked them rapidly. Ryker stepped back as one of the female fire fighters clapped. “Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry. I thought…”

  “I like them,” said one of the guys, getting a closer look.

  “So far, I’ll be recommending them.” She turned to the chief, giving Ryker the cold shoulder. “I have candy that I’m supposed to hand out?”

  “Yes, and I can loan you a locker for your purse and cover-up, if you want to give it to me?”

  Uncomfortable for once at being the center of attention, she handed the chief the dog leashes and lifted her caftan over her head.

  She heard Ryker’s intake of breath behind her.

  ***

  Ryker couldn’t believe that Serenity had dressed as a stripper for the parade. This event was supposed to be family friendly.

  Red fishnet stockings covered her legs. A thigh-length green and red plaid skirt passed for the bottom half of the costume, and a short-sleeved low-cut red and green satin top strained over the curve of her breasts.