by Rebecca York
He should be married—he seemed the type—and have a dozen kids. She’d been busy making a career and hadn’t considered them. Now? Children were everywhere.
She also surveyed Ryker, trying to be objective about his broad shoulders, muscled chest, hard thighs and gorgeous blue eyes.
“Oh, good, our turn next,” the cute mom said, nudging her son forward. “I know what I’m asking for.”
“You’re bad,” the other woman laughed. “But slip him your number.”
What? Serenity did her best to not glare at the instigator. To be fair, Ryker’s pockets were probably loaded with numbers by the end of the night.
He’d taken debate, he’d told her back then, to help with his shyness. He didn’t like being the center of attention, while she didn’t mind at all. In high school they’d enjoyed their differences. He’d worked to overcome by being Santa, and she’d give credit where it was due. Ryker was a smokin’ hot Santa Claus.
Two hours passed before she knew it. Ryker finished, thanking Mrs. Claus, and walked the dogs toward her. They’d been great sports, and she promised them extra scrambled eggs in the morning.
“You make them eggs?” Ryker asked.
“Not just them,” she teased, “Tiff too.”
“Did you want to walk around the festival?” He gestured to the crowded outdoor booths on Commercial. She’d gotten a lot of pictures to post for her followers.
“I’d rather change out of my costume—and you must be dying of heatstroke.”
“I’m all right,” he said. “The breeze off the water helps. But let’s go back to the station—I have a key.” He took Glamour’s leash, and she held Glitz’s. People waved or said hello, or wished them a Merry Christmas, as if they were a couple.
It didn’t feel strange at all, but familiar.
She glanced at him as they neared the station, their strides in sync. “This was fun. They didn’t have this when we were kids.”
“LBTS really built this downtown area up—it’s been great for the economy. They used to have more live music. Remember the bands?”
“Yeah.” They’d sneak a few of his dad’s beers and think they were hot stuff, dancing in the cordoned-off street. “You weren’t always such a goody-two-shoes.”
“Is that what you think I am?” He sounded surprised.
“Everyone here loves you.”
He glanced at her with an arched white Santa brow. “That’s a problem?”
“Nah, I’m just teasing. Sort of. Hey, did a cute mom slip you her number?”
His cheeks flushed. “What?”
“I heard them talking in line. You have a reputation as a hot Santa.”
“Oh. Uh, I don’t think so.”
She patted his Santa pockets and brought out three crumpled papers—and three different phone numbers. “Let’s see—here’s Lola, or Linda?” She laughed as he tried to snatch them back. “And Mary. And…Teresa. You could have your pick of dates.”
They’d reached the station and walked inside.
Underneath the door jamb he paused.
“What?”
He looked up.
She did too.
Holly berries, and a silver ribbon. Was that…
“Mistletoe,” he said. “I’ve been thinking all night how to get you right here.”
He swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly. Everything she’d repressed about his kiss barreled forward to here and now.
Holy shit—the man could still make her toes curl.
They broke apart to applause as the firefighters in the station clapped their approval.
“Smooth,” she whispered, red-cheeked. He’d been thinking about that all night?
“Come with me tomorrow,” he said, ignoring his friends.
“Where?” She fanned her face.
“On the boat.” He held her elbow, and the dog leash. “It’ll be a gorgeous day.”
It felt like a date. Was that good, or bad? “I’ll have to check with Tiff first…make sure she’s all right.”
Ryker nodded.
It was a date all right—he hadn’t invited her sister to come along which meant he wanted to be with just her.
The hours they’d spent making love on his old boat, the Angle Fish, were blazing hot memories she’d buried to survive.
They’d been teenagers. Love like that couldn’t last.
It didn’t have staying power—her mom had told her that when she’d cried about his breaking up with her.
Ryker cleared his throat as he waited for her answer.
“Okay.” She breathed out. “Where should I meet you?”
“At the marina, say ten.”
“Should I pack a lunch?” Glitz woofed a greeting at someone from the doorway, reminding her that they had an audience.
“I’ll take care of everything.”
Definitely a date.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, she and Tiff shared breakfast—but not eggs, which had suddenly made her sister’s face turn green.
“Chili,” her sister said, after returning from the bathroom. “I want chili.”
“I can run to the store—maybe I shouldn’t go with Ryker?” Leaving her sis when she didn’t feel well didn’t sit right.
“I want you to leave so that I can wallow in self-pity and eat a dozen chocolate chip cookies.” Tiff made a shooing motion toward the front door. “Okay?”
She laughed, then realized Tiffany was serious. “Really?”
“How strong do you expect me to be here? I’ve always been the wuss. I want my body pillow and my back warmer, and to stream Friends.”
“You’ve always been kindhearted,” she differed. “That is not being a wuss.”
“Go have fun with Ryker today. I seriously think I’m going to nap all day. Uh, Serenity, I’d already planned a Christmas Eve party—I can’t cancel, the invites were sent out a month ago. Jonas was supposed to be here.” Tiff bit her lip to keep from crying. “I know you don’t bake, so I’ll do that, but you might have to mix drinks.”
“Sure!” Serenity would do whatever was necessary to keep Tiff happy. “Your friends?”
“Neighbors too—and maybe, if there’s a miracle, my husband. Jonas sent a text that he got the job offer, but he’s not sure he wants to accept. He wants to come home and discuss it.”
“What does that mean?”
“My guess is the salary isn’t what he wants.” Tiff put her hand on her belly. “I don’t care about oodles of money, so long as we’re happy. I was fine with him sharing the dog business with me. It wasn’t enough for him.” She shrugged, her face pale.
“I’m sorry.” Serenity reached for her sister’s fingers and squeezed gently.
“It’s a relationship. Compromise.”
Here Serenity was, the one with the daily messages of love, light, and beauty, but her younger sister was actually living it. “I hope he knows just how wonderful you are.”
“You can tell him, a lot, when he gets home,” Tiff said wistfully.
Serenity went to the pantry and found two cans of chili. “Is this what you want?”
“Oh yeah. I add sour cream and chives, and it’s delicious.”
Serenity scrunched her nose. “This is what you used to eat back in middle school.” When was the last time she’d had chili, period, let alone from a can?
“So?”
“So…nothing.” She’d buy her sis a subscription to a gourmet delivery place as a baby gift. “You still like it. That’s all.” Serenity checked the pantry.
“What are you looking for?” Tiff rested one foot on top of the other and peered under her arm, balancing her weight against Serenity in a half-hug.
“A box of macaroni and cheese—then it will really be like Mom used to make.”
Their mother never cooked anything fresh—period.
“Funny. Did you send her a present yet?”
“A gift certificate to their favorite restaurant—Applebee’s.” Fine dinin
g, according to Mom.
Tiffany snickered, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh—well, that’s what I sent too.”
“It’s what she likes.” Serenity shrugged. It had taken a lot of therapy to understand that her mom was not the ideal parent and let it go.
“I don’t want to be like her.”
“You aren’t.” Serenity closed the pantry and clasped her sister’s hand. “You actually hug.”
“You taught me to hug, Serenity.”
It had killed her to see her sister, so sensitive, ignored—their mom had her reasons—overworked, underpaid, underappreciated, but that didn’t make her lack of affection for her daughters any easier. Their dad had never been in the picture. Growing up, it was just the two of them against the world.
Serenity opened the can and heated it on the stovetop, while Tiff got out the bowls and sour cream. They ate while Serenity regaled Tiffany with the hot Santa story, and then the kiss under the mistletoe.
“It was weird when you went off to college,” Tiff said, blowing on a spoonful. “Not only did I miss seeing you, but I missed seeing Ryker too. He went to college and worked as a lifeguard on the beach for a while. He asked about you one time and I let him have it for hurting you. Then four years ago he was hired on at the fire department. I saw him a lot after I started up my dog-walking business. You know what I found odd?”
“What?”
“He never asked about you again.”
Her stomach tightened. “But you yelled at him and told him not to ask.”
“He wanted to. I could tell. I don’t think he ever fell out of love with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her heart thumped painfully. “He broke up with me.”
“Ask him why?”
“No.”
“Yes.” Tiff scraped her spoon along the bottom of her bowl. “I’ve seen him on dates, of course, but never anybody serious. Kind of like you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You have this blog and all of these followers on love—but when was the last time you were in a serious relationship? Where you loved the guy.”
Serenity so did not want to have this conversation. “Relationships are hard. And dating in LA?”
“So, you just choose not to have them?”
“It’s easier that way.” She laughed and hoped to change the subject.
“Laugh all you want but sooner or later you have to open your heart.” Tiff got up and waddled her bowl to the sink, adorable in a red pajama set. “I want you to be my son’s godmother.”
Her chest squeezed in shock. That sounded way too important. “I’m not sure I’m qualified!”
Tiffany snorted. “I say you are. If anything were to happen to me and Jonas, you have to be there—like you were for me. Promise.”
Tiff held her gaze like their eyes were magnets and Serenity couldn’t pull away—she tried. “All right,” she conceded. “But sis, you’ve got to be pushing the envelope for favors granted.”
“Never.” Tiffany blew her a kiss. “Sisters for life. Your best revenge? Start popping out your own puppies.”
Glitz and Glamour whined from their places beneath the kitchen table.
“Uh, that would be no.” Serenity shook her head playfully—hating that cute munchkins with Ryker’s blue eyes appeared in her imagination.
“Puppies, or kids?”
She tapped her chin. “Either.”
“Never?”
“Maybe.” Serenity loaded the dishwasher. “Someday.” Her sister made the idea more appealing, but it was also scary. And there was the issue of finding the right person. She and Ryker had killer chemistry, but she already knew it wouldn’t last.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the marina?” Tiff pointed to the time on the stove. “Take my car, make sure you have your phone charged, and text me occasionally.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Tomorrow we’re back to the dog-walking schedule. Doc says I’m supposed to have only limited activity until... I could go, but I’d have to shuffle slower than Sweet Pea.”
“I got it. No worries.”
Serenity changed into her bikini, topped it with a bohemian caftan, packed a towel and a change of clothes, and kissed her sis. Driving the Jeep to the marina, she parked and texted Ryker that she was there.
He told her to come back to where the boats were docked.
She made her way past the gray pelicans perched on pilings to Ryker, aboard a navy-blue cruiser that was much, much nicer than the barely legal scrap of wood with a motor he used to have.
“Wow!” She grinned. “You’ve upgraded.”
“I had to give our Angle Fish a burial at sea,” he lamented, hand to his heart.
She could’ve swooned, if she’d been the type—shaggy sandy blond hair, a hint of blond scruff, his blue eyes sparkling in welcome at her.
He bowed and gestured to the boat. “Watch your step.”
She scoffed at his warning. “I know my way onto a boat, thank you.” Aboard, she turned and snapped a few candid shots of them.
“Do you always have to take pictures?” Annoyance flashed over his handsome face.
“I do.” A breeze ruffled her caftan and she adjusted the strap of her beach bag over her arm.
“Any chance you can put it away for a few hours and just be in the moment?”
She bristled at his criticism. “Not really.” Her job meant seeing the world and sharing it. That’s how she grew her followers.
He exhaled and shook his head, joining her on deck.
The mood had changed. She preferred the flirty one that they’d had last night after he’d kissed her. She’d stumbled home in a daze—drunk, but totally sober. That was what he did to her…confused the hell out of her.
“Sorry,” he said. “I guess I just don’t want to compete with your phone for your attention.”
He ducked below and she did too, her fingers to her mouth in surprise as she saw the champagne in the bucket, the orange juice for mimosas, and the fruit and cheese on a tray arranged on a table.
A date.
It probably was rude to snap pictures during a date without the other person’s agreement. “I’m sorry too. Listen, I’m so used to streaming my life that I didn’t check with you. How about I put it away for a little bit? But I would like pictures of the day later.”
“That’d be great.”
Compromise—like Tiff had said. It wasn’t so hard. She slid her phone in the side pocket of her beach bag. It was actually damn difficult, but she left it there. For Ryker, and the effort he’d made.
***
Ryker poured Serenity a flute of champagne and mixed it with orange juice for a mimosa. “Here you are.” He lifted his.
“What are we celebrating?” she asked. “Reunions?”
“I guess.” He shrugged. “Old friends?”
“New friends.”
He liked that better. They clinked glasses and sipped. He gestured to the rectangular table, and she sat. He slid next to her.
“I thought we’d catch up a little before going out. The water will be calm today—if you’re up for swimming our cove is still there.”
“I’d love to swim! Hence the beach hair.”
She’d woven her long waves into two braids that she’d wound around her head and pinned like a crown.
“It’s pretty,” he said. He tucked his hand under his knee so that he didn’t touch her hair. He was tempted to see for himself if the strands were as silky as they seemed, blondish red twists.
“Thank you.” The silence stretched between them, and she nibbled on a strawberry. “So, have you given any more thought on what I might be able to help you with?’
He bowed his head. Seemed she wanted to talk business rather than repeat last night’s kiss. It had rocked his world and he wanted another. “I’m happy being able to take care of my section of beach. Isn’t that enough?”
“I challenge you to think beyond that. The thing is,�
� she used her half-eaten strawberry to point at him, “you could gather enough people to clean the entire east coast. The Florida Keys to Maine.”
“No way. I have a hard time getting five people to show up on a regular basis.” He chewed a grape. She’d lost her beautiful mind.
“I realize you think my job is a lot of fluff—”
“Not true—it’s important, at least for the eyelashes.” Ryker had learned his lesson.
She winked exaggeratedly, the long lashes like wings. “Thank you. Companies pay me to review their items as part of their marketing campaign. I have a few that I think might pair well with what you’re doing.”
Ryker saw for himself why she was successful—she actually tried the product and had built a reputation for being honest. “I don’t mean to doubt you,” he said. “I just don’t understand it.”
Serenity reached for her phone, but it was in her beach bag. She exhaled and turned her attention to him. “I posted the picture of you with the dogs wearing the Santa hats, and it got a ton of likes.”
“Because of the dogs,” he said, shifting on the bench seat. He’d never liked his picture taken. Growing up, Toby had been the camera hog—he didn’t like the attention. Playing Santa was different, pretending to be someone else while making families happy.
“Because of you, Ryker…and okay, the dogs too.” She grinned at him. “People love cute puppies and gorgeous men.”
She thought he was gorgeous? “I had my Santa suit on, and a big pillow belly!”
“Yeah, and your beard was slightly crooked—I’ll show you the picture later. It’s really great. The point is, I want to prove to you that my job is more than fluff. I want to get you started toward your goal.”
“I don’t, that’s not…no.” He scowled as he tried to imagine something bigger than his Friday morning clean-ups. “I hate social media.”
She paused dramatically and plucked a grape free from the cluster. “Even if you could save hundreds, no, hundreds of thousands, marine animals?” She nodded wisely. “It’s worth a few pics then, right?”