Page 15 of First Kissmas

Rich scents of coffee and maple syrup wrap around me as I step inside. The grill sizzles with the lunch rush, and conversationhums through the air. Music plays softly overhead, something upbeat and familiar.

“Sit anywhere you’d like!” Courtney calls without turning, juggling plates of burgers and fries. “I’ll be right with you!”

The booth where we sat on Christmas Eve is occupied by a family with two young kids. I settle onto a stool at the counter beside a rotating display of pies. From here, I have a perfect view of her. I watch the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the way her hips sway with each step. Those curves of hers are unbelievable.

Goddamn, it feels good to not have to hold back anymore. To not have to pretend like I don’t notice how beautiful she is.

She moves past me, refilling coffee cups with quick precision. Pride swells in my chest as I watch her navigate the busy diner. Everything about her speaks of determination, of someone building exactly the life they want.

I continue to watch as she ducks behind the counter, tucking the coffee carafe back into place before turning to focus on me. The wordsWhat can I get you?are halfway out of her mouth when she stops mid-sentence, her eyes going wide.

“Ryder!”

She rushes back around the counter and throws her arms around my shoulders. I pull her close, breathing in the floral scent that is uniquely her. The softness of her floods my senses. For the first time, I let myself truly savor the moment—the way she fits against me, how right it feels to hold her without restraint.

“You’re here,” she whispers against my neck.

“I’m here.” My voice comes out rough with emotion.

She steps back, joy radiating from her smile. “My shift ends in twenty minutes. Are you okay waiting here?”

“Of course. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“While you wait, you have to try the cherry pie. It’s the best thing we make here.” Her eyes shine with happiness as she hugs me again, pressing her lips close to my ear. “I’m so happy to see you.”

I’m halfway through eating the slice of pie when the woman from Christmas Eve who hired Courtney approaches. Sure enough, her name tag saysAbby.

“Well, well, well.” She props her hip against the counter, shrewd eyes assessing me. “You must be the guy Courtney never stops talking about.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I meet her gaze. “I remember you from Christmas Eve. You gave her a job. Thank you for giving my girl a chance.”

“How long are you planning to stay in town this time?”

“A lot longer than last time.”

“And are you going to give Courtney everything she deserves?”

“Yes. And then some.”

Abby’s expression softens into a smile. “You aren’t going to take her away from the diner, are you?”

“I would never make her leave something that makes her happy,” I say. “But I am damn well going to give her whatever kind of life she wants.”

Abby studies me for a moment longer. “Well, if you’re half as good of a man as she makes you out to be, she’s a lucky girl.”Her eyes narrow slightly. “If you hurt her, though, you’re going to have to answer to me.”

“Fair enough. But you don’t have to worry about that.”

Just then, Courtney emerges from the back, my favorite cream sweater of hers hugging her curves. The sight of her stirs something primal in my chest.

“Have fun, you two.” Abby’s voice follows us as Courtney’s fingers intertwine with mine, tugging me toward the door.

Less than a block from the diner, I pull Courtney close, claiming her mouth with mine. A soft gasp parts her lips before she melts into the kiss.

“We should probably save that for my apartment,” she says with a flustered smile, her cheeks flushing pink.

Her hand fits perfectly into mine as we walk. She points out the used bookstore where she spends Sunday afternoons browsing, the coffee shop with the best scones, the flower stand where the owner always gives her an extra stem. I nod at each landmark she shows me, but my focus stays on her.

The streets grow quieter as we approach her building. Her hand stays warm in mine as we climb the stairs. Inside her apartment, the space pulses with life. Bright throw pillows rest in the armchair. Photographs line the walls, affixed with colorful tape. Other little touches also mark the space as hers: a half-empty tea mug, a dog-eared paperback, a soft purple blanket draped over the couch.

---