Page 84 of The Thief Who Saved Christmas

The other might save me.

“Actually, there is something I need to give you,” I say. “Right now. Can you wait right here?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ANABELLE

Tuesday, December 9, 16 days until Christmas

State of mind: Confused and very turned on

Is Ryan getting a condom?

Do Iwanthim to get a condom?

I want to kiss him, and yes, to domorewith him, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet. I can tell that sex with Ryan would change everything, and so much is already in flux. Impossible to predict. Different.Terrifying.

I start pacing, Saint Nick mewling and then following me, but I don’t make it more than a few back-and-forth steps around my worktable before Ryan comes back in holding a square black box, about six inches by six inches.

What’s in the box? A whole collection of condoms? Will he let me choose?

No, from the look on his face, it’s something different. Weston’s severed hand?

I’ve been reading too many novels. Even though Ryan’s punched people before, I can’t see him willfully hurting someone, especially in the studied, committed way sawing off a limb would require.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice strange to my ears. I’m tired. Overstimulated. Overwrought. I should be in bed now, sleeping, but I’m tired of sleeping my life away. I’ll pay for it tomorrow, but right now this is where I want to be.

He holds the box between his hands, looking at me with that same expression.Worried, I decide.

“I can’t tell you why, not yet, but your grandmother gave this to me to keep safe.”

“Ryan, let me see the box.” My heart is beating fast. I’m pretty sure I know exactly what’s in there—the missing ornament. My father’s not the only one who has been looking for it: he wants it for selfish reasons; I want it because it was hers.

Ryan hands the box over, and I flip it open. My heart bursts when I see the ornament’s spindly spikes glowing in the dim light from my lamp. I gasp and carefully tug it out, letting it dangle in a full circle so my eyes can drink in every angle.

Saint Nick stalks up to me, probably with poor intentions, but Ryan scoops him up into his arms without hesitating—and my cat lets him.

Once I’m certain the ornament is as it should be, completely undamaged, I tuck it back into its box and glance at Ryan over the lid. “You’re the person she gave the ornament to.”

He nods and steps over to my bed, letting Saint Nick down. My cat bats at his hand, then starts weaving in ever-shrinking circles until he plops down, letting his body collapse. “Last Christmas Eve. She gave it to me before I left the B&B.”

I swallow, considering the implications. This ornament meant a lot to my grandmother. She would only have given it tohim if she trusted himdeeply, implicitly,andwithout reserve. And yet, he’s held onto it for a week since returning to the B&B.

I turn my back to him and bring the ornament into the closet, where I stow it in a spot I know it will be safe and hidden. Once I’m done, I stand in the closet for a few seconds, trying to gather the scattered bits of myself and focus on this moment, this place, this man.

Then I turn back toward him and find him watching me with eyes like a chastened puppy’s. “Were you going to keep it?” I ask. “It’s worth a lot of money, and none of us knew you had it.”

“I never even considered it. I was always going to give it to you,” he says hoarsely. “It was only a matter of when.” He scratches the back of his ear in a self-conscious gesture. “I came here to give it back toher.”

“You’re asking me to believe a lot.” I’m already halfway toward believing him, but I’m aware of my own inclination to believe in the people I care about. I want them to have good intentions, so in the past I’ve been guilty of not being suspicious enough.

He sighs and rubs his heel against the floor. “I wouldn’t believe me if I were you. But it’s true. I came here to bring it back. And I held onto it because I felt like I was running out of reasons to stay. You dropped Weston, and you and Joe have the inn about covered, so if I gave it to you…”

“You want to stay?”

“I want to stay because of you.”

I want to press him for more details. To find out exactly what happened between him and my grandmother a year ago, and what comprised that dark period of his life. But he asked me the other day whether I would be able to withstand judging him, and I still can’t say no with a clear heart.

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