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Paper Stars:An Ordinary Magic Story(4)

By:Devon Monk


"Delaney." He coughed to smother a laugh. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just fine. I'm just great."

"Mmmm-hmm. You sound great." His voice dropped into that sexy burr that made my mouth water.

I bit the corner of my lip and waited for my stupid heart to stop fluttering for him. Waited for the butterflies in my stomach to get the message that there would be no takeoffs today. All flights were grounded.

"Don't," I whispered.

"Don't what?" Sexy voice. Sexy man.

I closed my eyes and could almost feel his arms wrapping around me, his body hard and heated against mine.         

     



 

I could almost feel his breath ghosting across my cheek to my lips, where he would pause, thumbs framing my mouth before he pressed a kiss exactly where he wanted it.

How could I miss him so much when he'd only been gone for a couple months?

Hearts were confusing.

I might have made a little sound.

"Don't think I'm not missing you," he rumbled. "I can't sleep at night. You're all I think about. And every time I hear your voice … I just want to turn the project over to some other company, pack it all up, and come home."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Who knew one word could make everything seem better?

I opened my eyes and stared at my cup while the Hula Hoop-obsessed rodents sang me back to the here and now.

It was almost Christmas. Songs were playing, people were laughing. That lift of kindness and hope and nostalgia filled the air, thicker than the scents of cinnamon and peppermint.

Bright lights blinked along the edges of windows and silvery snowflakes hung glittering from the ceiling.

"I'll be there," he said. "Soon." Promising me. Promising himself.

"We'll talk. Okay, Delaney? We'll really talk. Because I have things to say to you. Important things I need you to know. About us. Things I've been thinking a lot about."

"Okay." Even I heard how soft my voice had gone.

He made a frustrated sound. "I need to say them when I can see your eyes. When I can feel your heartbeat."

"Okay." He was coming home. That was good. That was enough. "I miss you like I miss the stars in the sky."

"Aw," Bathin whispered as he settled down with half an apple pie. "Stars. How poetic. Most people only aim for the moon."

I reached across the table with my spoon and scooped all of the whipped cream off his pie.

"Hey."

I stuffed the entire pile in my mouth and gave him a what-you-gonna-do-about-it look.

"Baby." Was all Ryder seemed able to get out. But it was enough.

That word was love.

"Hey." I swallowed the sweet cream then took a quick sip of coffee. "There is a storm headed inland. It's going to dump a lot of snow in the passes. Do you think you should wait until it blows through?"

"No. I want to be home. I'll be careful. I promise."

"Just … don't push it if it looks too bad."

"I won't."

"Call me before you leave. And make sure you have a full tank of gas."

"And cold weather gear, chains, water, granola bars and jerky. I'm only three hours away, Delaney, not trekking across Siberia."

"A hundred and ninety-one miles, Ryder. There are two mountain ranges between us."

"You think a couple mountain ranges could keep me from spending Christmas with you?"

"If they're going to throw a blizzard at your head? Maybe."

"Let them try. I'm still coming home. Blizzard or no blizzard."

"Okay."

"Delaney." Soft, intimate. "I'll be home for Christmas."

"Don't you start quoting songs at me."

He chuckled, and just like that, things felt better again. Things felt right. "Jean's right," he said. "You have no Christmas spirit."

"Excuse me? You're taking my sister's side on this?"

He laughed. "It's okay. Not everyone gets into the season like Jean gets into well, everything."

"Right?" I said feeling vindicated. "It's been Jingle Bells 24/7 since before Thanksgiving. Before Thanksgiving, Ryder."

"Totally rude of her."

"You know what I want for Christmas?" I asked. "Ear plugs. And therapy."

"Maybe if you're a good girl, Santa will bring you both. Or you could just ask him. Are you sure Santa isn't … around?"

"Santa doesn't live in Ordinary, Ryder," I told him for the hundredth time. "I'm sure we are not the North Pole."

"It's Mr. Kristofferson, isn't it?"

His guesses were getting better, and by better I meant total bull's-eye. Man had good instincts. But I wasn't going to let him off that easily.         

     



 

"If Santa lived here, don't you think I'd tell you?"

Bathin tsked at my lie.

"I think you'd wait until Mr. Kristofferson saw me doing something naughty so he wouldn't bring me any presents."

"You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"

"I've had time to do a lot of thinking lately."

"Oh?"

"About a lot of things."

"Naughty things?"

"Always."

This was not the time or place for dirty talk. There was a family of six plowing through a full turkey dinner just one booth down, and everyone else in the diner had to be over ninety years old.

Still, I tucked my head toward the window, cupped my phone, and pressed my face close to it trying to keep this on the down-low.

"Tell me," I breathed.

"Did you just put on a ski mask?"

"No." I moved my hand. "What naughty things are you thinking?"

An old man one table over grinned at me. He did that two-finger point-at-eye thing then point-at-me thing.

I raised one eyebrow like I didn't know what he was insinuating.

He made a circle with his pointer finger and thumb then thrust his other index finger into the hole several times.

Nope. No. I was not going to sit here and watch some old guy make dirty sex signals at me.

"Like I bet you haven't even gotten a Christmas tree yet," Ryder rumbled. "Or decorated it. Or put up any Christmas lights. Shame, shame, Delaney."

This was naughty talk? A Christmas tree?

"Lights are up and twinkling, Mr. Judgy McJudgerson." I had put them up yesterday. Just a single string across the mantle above the fireplace. But still. That counted.

"And the tree?"

"Chopped, dropped, and propped in the living room. Covered in bows, bulbs, and balls." That, was a complete lie.

"Well." He sounded impressed. "I stand corrected."

"Yes, you do. I have Christmas spirit oozing from the top of my nog to the bottom of my mistletoes."

"Tree and everything," he said with a chuckle again. I liked the sound of it. "You know one of my favorite Christmas memories?"

"No."

"When I was a kid, I would lie under the Christmas tree and stare up at the lights in the boughs."

"Okay?"

The old guy shifted at his table so he was in my line of vision again. He jabbed his finger in and out of his ear.

I did not want to know what kind of sex move he thought that was.

"This year, I'm going to make a new memory," Ryder said. "I'm going to lie you down under that tree, Delaney Reed."

The old man made even faster finger-in-ear motions. He looked alarmed.

"And then I'm going to do to you, what I do with all the gifts I've been waiting too long for."

I didn't make a sound, my heart pounding too hard to do anything but listen to his words.

"I'm going to unwrap you slowly … "

"Officer Reed!" the old guy shouted. "Turn off the button."

He shoved his finger through the "ok" sign he was making. I suddenly realized what all those dirty signals really meant.

" … and when I have you there, shivering and bare beneath me … "

"Speaker!" The old guy thrust his finger frantically in and out of his ear.

" … I'm going to put my mouth … "

"Wait!" I yelped and dropped the phone like it was made of bees. It clattered across the table and landed on the floor.

Every person in the diner looked at me.

Inexplicably, the one person who hadn't heard my outburst-Ryder-was still talking. But by whatever luck was left to me, the speaker had clicked off while I was fumbling with the phone.

There was a pause, just a second or two.

Bathin was shaking with laughter. All eyes were on me, waiting to see how I was going to play this. I opened my mouth, closed it.

Yeah, I had nothing. I waved, though it kind of looked like frantic jazz hands.

Bathin bent in half to try to catch his breath.

Jerk.

The old guy nodded. "All right then. Let's all get back to our nice quiet meals, folks." He buckled down to his mashed potatoes and stuffing.         

     



 

That seemed to be the signal everyone was waiting for. They all turned back to their own meals too.

Someone turned up the Christmas music. Extra loud.

Bathin wiped the tears running down his stupid handsome demon face, but kept right on shaking with silent laughter.

I hoped he silently asphyxiated.

"Delaney?" Ryder asked from somewhere by my feet. I retrieved my phone.

"Sorry. That's, uh, great. Interesting stuff. We'll have to follow up on it later. In private."