Page 92 of The Thief Who Saved Christmas

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ANABELLE

Wednesday, December 10, 15 days until Christmas

Lovestruck fools: several

Work completed: minimal

Happiness achieved: great

We have a quiet day at the B&B, with no word from the building inspector. I’m trying not to worry, and I’m mostly succeeding, because my mind is full of Ryan. His hands, which I can hardly look at now without having a dirty thought—even if he’s just eating or packing up a box. His lips, which are extraordinarily talented. And especially his heart.

He’s helped all of my friends now.

Cynthia and Jeremy, who needed a push.

Joe, who is ecstatic, because Craig sent him a frankly scandalous text about missing his…well...

My friend is much too wise to seek a reconciliation, but it’s better to be missed than to be forgotten. Or so he says. I wouldrather be forgotten by Weston. He’s the source of the sense of foreboding that lurks beneath my happiness. Because Ryan is right: Weston is not a man who gives up. He wouldn’t have sent an inspector to the inn and then failed to follow up. He has a plan, and he will pursue it.

But Ryan insists it’s time for what he calls “The Great Santa Moveout.” Joe and I photograph the Santas that will be used for the scavenger hunt and release them into Ryan’s custody. Even though he barely slept last night, he’s practically bouncing on his heels as he spirits them away to hide them throughout the inn’s common spaces.

He is, in a word, adorable.

Joe and I sit at the computer in our new office, the retired smoking room, and he eyes me as we put together the form for the scavenger hunt, our computer chairs pressed close together. It’s still stunning to me that a few days ago I thought Joe was a woman. If I hadn’t taken a chance and agreed to meet him in person, then he wouldn’t be sitting here with me right now. He wouldn’t be my real-life friend and business partner.

I’m so much less alone than I was two weeks ago.

“So you’re kissing Ryan now?” he asks point-blank.

Ryan kissed me on the cheek before he gathered up the Santas for his project.

I could claim it was a friendly cheek kiss, but I’d like Joe’s advice. “I am.”

He grins. “Look at you, stealing my boyfriend twenty-four hours after we went Facebook official.”

“That’s me. I’m a ho-ho-ho.” But I give it more thought and frown. “Are you worried about people finding out?”

Laughing, he says, “You’re not even on Facebook, Anabelle.”

I’m not. There’s a page for the B&B, which will need to be updated with our new theme, but I’m nearly as negligent asmy grandmother was at maintaining the inn’s online presence. Perhaps Joe or Ryan will be willing to take over.

“No,” I say. “But if it’ll cause trouble for you—”

He turns in his chair to face me. “I’m not going to give you any excuse not to be with that fine man. He may throw his dirty socks on the floor and work out more than any sensible person should, but he’s a good one, Anabelle. You deserve that.”

I glance at the door, my pulse thrumming. “I suspect he’s done bad things, Joe. Criminal things. He won’t talk about his past, but he basically told me as much.”

“Like what?” he asks, his eyes widening. “Did he kill someone?”

“I asked, and he said no.”

“So drugs?”

“I don’t know,” I say, wringing my hands together. I’ve thought about this a lot, of course—if he didn’t kill anyone, and he’s not an actual sexual deviant, what’s left? Drugs, theft, and white-collar crime. Based on everything he’s told me, he wasnota white-collar criminal…

“Oh, this is bad, isn’t it?”

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