Paper Stars(12)

“I think we can address it after the holidays,” I said.

Jean lit up like a string of lights.

“Is the picture on the blog yet?” Ryder asked.

I nudged him. My sister did not need any encouragement.

Jean grinned. “Wanna see?” She bounded out of Hogan’s arms to find her tablet before any of us could answer.

“I thought you’d be a better influence on her,” I groused at Hogan.

He just spread his hands wide and smiled. “Come now, Delaney. I thought you knew me better.”

The twinkle of wicked mischief in his eyes was irresistible.

I chuckled. “At least try to rein in her worst tendencies.”

“I do,” he said with mock seriousness. “You should have seen the hat she wanted to buy you.”

Ryder snorted at that, then Jean showed up with the pictures and excitedly read us the blog post.

I had to admit it, that little penguin wearing a baggy Santa hat that drooped over one eye, surrounded by concrete Buddha, frogs, fairies, elephants, Bigfoot, and an octopus doing yoga, looked pretty darn cute.

They’d strung the whole scene with Christmas lights and candles, greenery stuffed in just the right places to somehow make the gathering feel both whimsical and sweet.

Like we were looking in on a little moment when the yard statues all got together in the cold and storm of winter to remind each other of friendship, happiness, and love.

Okay, maybe I was reading too much into the scene, but at the very least, it was cute, fun, and festive.

“Has the blog gotten any comments yet?” Hogan asked.

Yeah, I could see how hard he was working not to encourage her.

Jean scrolled for a minute. “About a hundred. Oh, here’s a good one: ‘Darling photo, but remember, even little penguins like to stay safe at home during the winter windstorms. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Y.’”

Mrs. Yates.

“That doesn’t sound angry,” Ryder said with another huge yawn.

Jean made a sound. “I told you, she loves this stuff.”

“Mmmm.” He leaned forward, his arm wrapping around my waist, his head tipping down to rest against my shoulder.

He had to be exhausted. “Did you sleep today?” I asked.

“Some.”

“Some?”

I could feel him smile against my shoulder. “I did some Christmas stuff.”

“Like what? We already have a tree. And a dragon. Merry Christmas.”

“Your gift was in the truck. And that dragon is not my responsibility. It ate my welcome mat.”

“You went shopping? You drove?”

“Gnawed on a corner or swallowed the whole mat?” Hogan wanted to know.

“The entire mat in one gulp. It was startling.”

“Testify,” Hogan agreed.

“Tell me you didn’t drive,” I said.

“I didn’t drive. Jean helped me.”

Jean grinned and flicked us a thumbs-up.

My cheeks went a little warm. “Ryder, you didn’t have to go out and buy me a gift when you’re injured.”

“It’s Christmas, Delaney,” he mumbled, only half-awake. “Worth it.”

He was getting heavy against my back. I shifted us so that he was resting against the couch.

He pulled me close, wrapping around me like he was afraid I’d walk out when he wasn’t looking.

We really had been apart for too long.

The rest of the evening was spent talking with my sisters and Hogan.

As was our tradition, our promise to each other, we drank and nibbled on cookies, fudge, and toffee Hogan had made, and gazed at the Christmas tree covered in softly pulsing lights.

Myra had an angel atop her tree.

It was peaceful. The music soft and soothing, the company my favorite in the whole world.

And then, when it was midnight, we followed through with our other tradition.

It was a family thing passed down from our great-great grandparents. And as long as at least two Reeds were in the same room together at midnight on Christmas Eve, we’d always done it.

We joined hands, held our breath, and made a wish that could last for exactly however long we held our breath.

I wish joy, peace, health and love for all those within Ordinary, especially Ryder, who might or might not love me, but whom I love with all my breath, all my heart, all my soul.

We all exhaled, except for Jean who held up one finger and squeezed her eyes shut, nodding along with whatever list of wishes she was rapid-firing her way through.

She did that every year.

She finally let out a burst of air, and Hogan chuckled, then tipped toward her and kissed her lips.

“Can’t wait to find out what that was all about,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Can’t wait for you to,” she said.

“No snow,” I warned.

She made kitten eyes. “Would I wish for snow on Christmas?”

“Yes,” we all said in tandem.

She laughed. “Well, I’m not telling because then whatever I wished for won’t come true. And believe me, I really, really want it to come true.”

From the look she was giving Hogan, and from the look he gave her back, I had a good feeling a few of those wishes were going to come true tonight. I guess it paid to have a half-Jinn as a boyfriend.

“Ready?” Ryder squeezed my hand. I realized I hadn’t let go of his yet.

“I’ll drive,” I said.

We all wished each other a Merry Christmas, said our good-byes, and hugged as if we were seeing each other off to a new adventure in a faraway land.

And maybe we were. Because it was officially Christmas day, and that was a day when wishes came true, right?

A tall dark and dashing figure walked down the sidewalk then right up to Myra’s porch, pausing on the stairs.

Bathin.

Myra crossed her arms over her chest. Bathin held up a bottle of wine and said something I couldn’t hear.

She paused, then shrugged and stepped aside to let him in. I caught her eye, but she just waved me off.

Well, well, well. Could there be something more going on between these two than Myra trying to find a way to get rid of him?

I hesitated. Maybe I should stay and make sure she was okay. No. I knew whatever the demon wanted, she could handle it.

“Merry Christmas, Delaney!” Jean called out.

“No snow,” I said again as Jean slid into Hogan’s car.

She just laughed. “Good-night, Scrooge.”





Chapter Ten





I had expected Ryder to fall asleep on the drive back to his place. Well, our place, I guess.

His cabin on the lake had been feeling less like home over the last couple months he’d been gone, and me more like a stranger drifting through it.

But not tonight. Tonight, it was the only place I wanted to be.

I didn’t know how we went forward from here. Maybe we would drift like this, sometimes together, sometimes at a distance.

Maybe our relationship would be caught in the pause between right now and forever and that was okay.

Maybe it didn’t matter that he’d never told me he loved me, never said those three words.

I knew what I saw in his eyes when he looked at me, I knew what I heard when he laughed with me, I knew what I felt when he touched me.

It was love.

I parked the Jeep, and we sat there in the dark for a moment, the porch light glowing warm and yellow, inviting, waiting.

“So, it’s officially Christmas morning,” Ryder said.

I glanced at the dash clock. Twenty minutes after midnight. “Yes.”

“That means I can give you your present.” He pushed open the door, grunting as he carefully slid out of the seat.

It was probably time for him to take more painkillers.

I followed him to the porch. It was cold out, like the thermometer had suddenly dropped ten degrees.

I shivered and my breath came out in clouds.

Ryder worked the lock, but turned around before opening the door, his body blocking the threshold. “Close your eyes.”

“Didn’t have time to buy wrapping paper?”

He grinned. “Close your eyes.”

It was late, and we were both tired, but there was a feeling in the air, a kind of timelessness and peace that made warmth bloom inside me.

I didn’t care what gift he had gotten me. Would be just as happy with nothing but his arms around me. He was what I wanted in my life. He was my gift.

I smiled and closed my eyes. “Don’t run me into a wall.”

I felt him step closer, then his arms wrapped around my waist, his mouth so close to mine, I could feel his breath on my cheek.

“Promise.” He kissed me gently, once on the center of my lips, then took hold of both of my hands in one of his.

I heard the door open, heard Spud and the dragon gallop toward us, felt them both nosing around like we’d hidden treats or welcome mats in our pockets.

Ryder drew me deeper into the house. I had pretty good spatial awareness, knew we were standing in the middle of the living room, facing the tree.

He must have left my gift under the tree.

“Now?” I asked.

“Hold on.” He let go of my hands. “Don’t peek.”

He moved away, and I heard him reach for something with a slight grunt.

I shook my head. “If you didn’t buy wrapping paper, you could have just thrown a blanket over whatever it is.”

“Hush.” A little more fiddling. “Okay.” He stood in front of me again, and linked our hands together. “Open your eyes.”

I opened my eyes.

Stars.

Hundreds of paper stars hung from the ceiling, fluttering on thin strings of tinsel and winking lights.

Silver and gold, blue and white, red and green, the stars were a constellation of wonder, a childhood memory, a wish come true.