by Robyn Neeley
“Of course. Thank you.” Sarah shoved the tissue in her coat pocket as Paul pushed the elevator button.
Stepping all the way in, she took a deep breath and stared down at the two candy balls.
What are you up to, Ryan?
Chapter Nineteen
Ryan brought the last of the tall Douglas fir trees to the front, propping it up into its plastic stand and bending down to secure it. When he’d arrived at the tree lot on the corner of 24th and 7th Avenue, he’d greeted Hank and Sylvie by asking for a huge favor.
Well, actually two favors. The first one was now sitting on a small worktable in front of him for when Sarah arrived. Sylvie had helped him with that special request.
And the second… He tugged the two pink balls dangling from the white Eskimo hat that he’d asked Hank if he could wear.
Once he’d told the old couple what he planned, they’d been willing to help any way they could. Sylvie had even offered him something that he hoped Sarah would be excited to do.
With the two things he needed for when she arrived taken care of, he’d gotten to work helping Hank move some of the Christmas trees to the front. It was the least he could do. Plus, he had far too much nervous energy to stand around and wait for Sarah.
“Ryan?”
He stood immediately and turned, his heart pounding as he took in the beautiful redhead walking toward him all bundled up in her ivory wool coat and red hat, her wavy hair flowing over her shoulders.
“Hi.” He smiled, trying to steady his breathing. “You came…um…I mean, I’m so glad you’re here…er…you got my note.” Way to start your romantic gesture, idiot. Stop rambling.
“Where on earth did you get that hat?” She stepped closer and reached her hand up, touching one of the round pink balls.
He smiled down at her and pointed to Hank and Sylvie, who were both not-so-subtly watching from the lot’s entrance. “A friend lent it to me.” He pointed. “He’s over there with his wife.”
Sarah frowned. “Is that the old man from the Santa Run?”
“Yeah.” Ryan chuckled. “Pretty random, huh?” He reached out and touched a branch. “He and his wife, Sylvie, sell these beauties every season. They run a Christmas-tree farm in Connecticut.”
“Wow.” She spun around, admiring the trees.
“And the hat was Sylvie’s. She wore it the first time they met—at the Santa Run forty years ago.”
“That’s so sweet.” She glanced over at the couple. “Why were you moving that tree? Are you moonlighting?”
“Not quite.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a blue rag Hank had given him, wiping the tree sap from his hands.
That act gave him a couple of seconds to gather his courage.
It’s time.
His heart banged against his rib cage, demanding to get the show on the road. He glanced down at the business card box in her hand. “I see you brought the malt balls.”
She tossed him a grin and held the box close. “That depends. Are you my Secret Santa?”
“Guilty.” He locked his gaze on hers. In a few minutes he hoped to be so much more. “Can I have a piece of candy?”
“You want my Secret Santa gift?”
“Yes. I’m feeling a little anxious.”
Clearly confused, she eyed him. “Okay.” Removing the lid, she handed him a malt ball.
He popped it into his mouth, ready to make his big reveal.
In one.
Breathe, dammit. Breathe. Two.
Three.
“Sarah, I love you,” he finally revealed how he felt.
Her eyes went wide, and he braced for her response.
“How is that possible?” She took a step back.
Okay, not what he’d hoped for, but he shouldn’t have been surprised that the first thing out of her mouth would be a question.
He blew out a cool breath, ready to answer her, because they weren’t leaving until he’d told her exactly how he felt. She needed to hear it—at least once. “I know I come off as this guy who doesn’t do relationships, but it’s because I’m afraid. People I love have a bad habit of leaving me. My father. Melanie. I’ve been too scared to trust that my heart won’t get broken again. But I can’t let fear win this time. I won’t.”
He gathered up the courage to take a step toward her. “It’s always been you, Sarah. With every lunch we shared, every desert we split, every joke we made, every piece of candy I gave you to calm your nerves…” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was falling in love. I’m in love with you, Sarah.”
“Ryan…” She opened her mouth as if to say more and stopped.
Panic started to set in, and he had to squelch it down. “I know, it’s not your plan, but all I know is I can’t pretend any longer that having lunch with you every day, joking with you, giving you malt balls, kissing you on my high school football field, and making love to you doesn’t mean anything.” He paused. “Because it means everything. You mean everything.”
He moved over to the wooden table and picked up the red pot that Sylvie had given to him. “I have another gift for you.”
Sarah stared down at the small green branch sprouting from the soil. “Is that a Christmas tree?”
He smiled. “I know you said you’d never had a real one. I thought you might like to grow this. You can take it home with you and look after it over Christmas.” He nodded to Hank and Sylvie. “Sylvie’s invited you to come up to their farm and plant it.” He paused, his next sentence full of hope. “I could take you up sometime in the new year. Another road trip.”
“You’re giving me a Christmas tree that we could plant together,” was all she said.
“Yes.” He handed her the branch. “Yes. I am.”
“Thank you.” She took the pot, her hands visibly shaky as she stared down at his gift.
“Here, why don’t I take that.” He took the branch back, set it down on the table, and nodded to the box still in her hand. “The second piece in there is for you because I thought you might need it after I dropped my bombshell.”
He watched as Sarah pulled out the piece of chocolate. Her watery eyes met his.
Fuck. He’d upset her. Putting it all on the line hadn’t been a good idea. He opened his mouth and scrambled to think of something to say, but Sarah beat him to it.
“I don’t need chocolate.” She threw the malt ball on the ground and stepped into his space. “What I need is you.”
Relief hit him hard, followed by adrenaline as she grabbed his jacket with both of her hands and crushed her lips to his. With a groan, he wrapped her in his arms and deepened their kiss, giving her everything his heart felt.
When they finally broke apart, he swiped her cheek with his knuckle. “Merry Christmas, Sarah.”
“Merry Christmas, Ryan.” She wrapped her arms around his middle. “That was quite the Secret Santa gift,” she teased, poking at one of the hat’s pink balls. “Although, I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed by a man in such a festive hat before.”
“I aim to please.” He swept his lips over hers again. She hadn’t said she loved him back, but he’d wait, knowing deep down she would when she was ready. “So, should we join our colleagues at Rockefeller Center?”
She released her arms from around his middle, picking up her Christmas tree. “Yes, but then I think we should take this to your place.” She lowered her lashes. “I’ll need some help getting it through its first night. I’ve never had a real tree before.”
He laughed, putting his arm around her as they walked toward the lot’s entrance. “Lucky for you, I know exactly how to keep a Christmas tree alive.”
They said their good-byes to the old couple. Ryan returned the hat to Hank with his heartfelt thanks, and Sylvie gave Sarah a giant bag to put the Christmas-tree branch in.
Walking in the direction of Midtown, Ryan took the bag for Sarah. “Oh, by the way. You owe me a dollar,” he said, grinning down at her while they waited on the corner to cross the st
reet.
“For what?”
“For the perfectly good malt ball you threw on the ground.” He shook his head. “Such a waste.”
She grinned up at him. “Not to worry. I left a whole bag with Paul back in the office, thanks to my extremely generous and adorably handsome Secret Santa. So…” She linked her arm with his as they crossed the street. “I’d like to hear all about when it was exactly that you fell in love with me. Was it the time I caught Logan’s lousy softball hit and threw it to you for the out?”
“No…and I don’t know if the ball hitting your chest is technically catching it. Plus, you made me run over to you so you didn’t have to throw it far.”
“Whatever. We won that game, didn’t we?” She squeezed his arm. “I know! It was when I brought you chicken-noodle soup that time in September when you couldn’t get rid of your cold, wasn’t it? You thanked me for days.”
That had been a sweet move on her part. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Earlier. Much earlier.”
“Hmmm. Please don’t tell me it was at the summer happy hour where I did karaoke to Midnight Train to Georgia?”
He chuckled. “Was that singing?”
She slugged him on the arm. “Okay, Mr. Wright. Challenge accepted. I’ll get it out of you.” She batted her eyelashes up at him. “Or kiss it out of you.”
He stopped in his tracks and pulled her close, sweeping his lips over hers. He’d tell her tonight. He’d also show her how much he loved her as soon as they were alone.
When they reached Rockefeller Center and joined their colleagues, Sarah’s laughter sent tingles straight through him while she continued to guess when it was he’d fallen in love with her.
He caught eyes with Logan who gave him a nod and went back to talking to Vanessa.
Sarah nudged his hip. “What was that all about?”
“What?”
“That look that Logan tossed you.”
“Oh, nothing.” He grinned, knowing full well his best friend had congratulated him for finally getting the girl.
He stared up at the magnificent tree shining in lights. And just in time for Christmas.
Epilogue
Back at the office.
Sarah dropped off Logan’s signed paperwork to Connor and headed back down to her office with a new stack of papers for her boss to sign.
“Morning, Sarah.” Ryan matched her stride, looking all sorts of handsome in his burgundy tie and white button-down shirt.
“Good morning, Ryan.”
“You’re making your rounds early today.”
“You know our boss. Work. Work. Work. How was your evening?”
“Low-key.” He nodded to Vanessa as she walked by. “Watched a movie…did a little tree decorating…went to bed early.”
“Same here.” Her heart skipped, knowing firsthand that he had gone to bed early, but he hadn’t been alone and sleep hadn’t happened until several hours later.
Several. Hours. Later.
Heat rushed through her. Yeah, it had been well into the early morning when she’d finally fallen asleep all snuggled in his arms.
“Hey, I have something for Logan to sign.” He stopped at his doorway. “Got a second?”
“Sure.” She stepped in, stretching out her hands and nodding down to the papers in her palms. “You can add whatever you need to my pile.”
“You’re so efficient.” Ryan maneuvered behind her and shut the door, locking it. He grabbed the papers out of her hands and flung them onto his desk, his lips finding hers in zero seconds.
“I’m not sure if this is appropriate office behavior,” she said, untying his tie and attacking the buttons on his shirt.
“We could stop.” He lifted her off the ground and set her on the desk, pulling her sweater up.
“Well, maybe just this one time.” She raised her arms, offering him assistance in getting her sweater off, his hand sweeping over her lacy beige bra while he kissed her neck.
“God, you taste good,” he murmured into her skin.
She tilted her head, her gaze landing on his open blinds.
Crap. She pressed her hand to his chest. “We don’t need an audience,” she said and moved off the desk, taking no chances that any employees in the building next door got a show.
“Good thinking.” He removed his shirt, tossing it in the chair that also held her sweater, and maneuvered around his desk, opening his drawer.
“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing behind her bare shoulder.
“Grabbing a condom.”
She tilted her head at that news. “You have condoms at work?”
He shrugged and shot over a sexy, crooked smile. “I might have fantasized this morning while you were in the shower that we’d have hot office sex on my desk.”
She laughed and closed the blinds. Could this moment get any hotter?
When she turned, she met the gaze of the man she loved. The man who’d given her his heart yesterday—along with a Christmas tree. A tree that shortly after the holidays, they would take up to Hank and Sylvie’s tree farm in Connecticut and plant in the couple’s greenhouse.
Hopefully in the spring, they’d be able to plant their future Christmas tree in a permanent place to grow until they were ready to bring it home one day.
One day. She liked the sound of that.
While standing in the Christmas-tree lot, listening to Ryan profess his love, she’d finally realized that all her living in the moments with Ryan, from their lunches at work to their first kiss on the football field to making love, had been their unplanned steps toward falling in love. Real moments that trumped any silly plan.
She knew in her heart that Ryan was the right man for her, the only one.
She walked back to the desk, wanting to do something for him, show him that this time she would be in the driver’s seat. Slowly unbuckling his pants, she took the condom from his hand and set it on the desk. “We aren’t going to need it this morning,” she said. Eyes hooded, she bent down and positioned herself on her knees, moving his blue boxers down his legs. She ran her hands up his strong calves before taking his hard erection into her mouth.
“Sarah…” he whispered, his hands massaging her shoulders.
So far Ryan had been the giver in this relationship.
Relationship.
Her heart fluttered. They were starting something that she knew would last a lifetime.
She wanted to show him she could anticipate his needs, too. Be the reason he came completely undone in the best way possible.
His fingers burrowed into her hair as she lightly circled his tip with her tongue and then slid her mouth back and forth, increasing her suction until his muscles trembled. From there, it didn’t take her long to push him over the edge, with a groan she hoped the door muffled. Her hands massaged his legs, enjoying the feel of his body as he released his pleasure.
He reached down and gently pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She kissed his earlobe and whispered, “I love you, Ryan Wright, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She moved her head back and caught the look of relief in his eyes.
“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, holding her tight.
She smiled. “Me, too.”
“I love you, Sarah.” He kissed her lips and gathered her papers where he’d flung them earlier. “I’m so glad I needed Logan to sign my supplier’s contract and you were able to give me a few minutes to find it.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “It did save me another trip down the hall. Unless you’ll need him to sign more paperwork this afternoon?” She casually walked over to his guest chair, grabbing their discarded clothes and handing his shirt to him with a flirtatious grin.
“I could definitely see that happening.” He winked, putting his shirt on and buttoning it up. “You ready for lunch?”
She slid her sweater over her head and glanced down at he
r watch. “It’s not even eleven.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He moved around his desk, pulling out a plastic bag containing the chocolate chip cookies Bridget had given him. “The fantasy I had this morning doesn’t even compare to the one I have for us this afternoon. We’re going to need a lot of sustenance.”
She raced to the door, flinging it open. “I’ll go get my lunch.”
As they walked down the hallway, they tried to act like nothing had happened in his office. Ryan stopped at the entrance to the cafeteria. “I’ll see you in there.”
Sarah nodded and tossed him a huge smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
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Acknowledgments
A special thank-you to all of my readers who continue to encourage and inspire me to write funny romantic comedy, because sometimes we just need to laugh.
A heartfelt thank-you to my editor, Heather Howland, who conceived this adorable romantic comedy. I feel so incredibly fortunate that you picked me to play in Sarah and Ryan’s world. A huge thank-you to Kari Olson for your feedback on the story and characters, including the millennial male voice!
Thank you to my Entangled publicist, Jessica Turner, and the entire Entangled team (hardest working team in the business!) for their support.
About the Author
Robyn Neeley is an East Coast gal who loves to explore super-cute small towns; watches way more reality TV than she cares to admit; can’t live without Dunkin Donuts coffee; and has never met a Christmas cookie she didn’t like. She writes swoon-worthy contemporary romance with heart and humor. Sign up for her e-newsletter at www.robynneeley.com.
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