Page 36 of A Very Titan Christmas
The mayor waved to them. She raised her hand.
“Is the mayor married?” Bryce asked.
“Why?”
“Eloise was having a serious conversation with him.” He scrutinized the volunteer who ran Silverberry Ridge. “But even he looks older than a man your mom might set you up with.”
Rachel laughed. “He’s been married since we were in high school.”
“Ah, guess you weren’t the topic of conversation.”
She hummed. “Guess not.”
“So, what’s the plan?”
She ignored his question and threaded through the crowd toward the skating rink in front of the Christmas tree. “I want to check the rink out. Get some pictures. Check the pricing.”
He nodded. “Research. Got it.”
They stopped at the little storefront that rented ice skates and gave wristbands to skaters. She took out her phone and jotted the prices in her notes app. “This place is busy for a weekday.”
“Tourists.”
“Silverberry Ridge is a hidden gem.” She bit her bottom lip. More tourists would help the local economy and enable the small town to keep all of its holiday fun. “We still have to develop a theme for the cookie-decorating contest.”
“Action figures?”
“No.”
“Trolls?”
“No.”
“Norse mythology?”
“Oh, closer.” She gave that some thought and removed her camera from its pack. Rachel scanned the scene and snapped pictures that she hoped would resonate with Kimberly and their readers. Couples and families strapped on ice skates. Parents let little ones tug them around the tiny rink. Some with far less experience wore smiles of nervous exhilaration. A teenage girl skated quickly, threading her way through the crowds, hopping and turning, crossing skate over skate, gliding over the ice with her scarf and ponytail trailing.
Rachel tried to frame her photographs to get the ice rink and the town’s Christmas tree. If only it were later in the afternoon. Nighttime would have been better. The lights on the tree would pop, and the rink would have its overhead lamps on. They could come back, or… “We should go ice skating.”
Bryce balked. “Ha. Oh, you’re serious?” He scowled. “I thought this was purely research for your article.”
“Skating is research.”
“I’ll let you research that on your own.”
She tugged his elbow toward the rental desk. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t ice skate, Rach.”
“You used to,” she pointed out.
“There are a lot of things a teenage boy will do to impress his girlfriend.”
“Impress?” She remembered his hockey moves. They’d been good, but that wasn’t what had tempted her heart.
“Well, if not impress, then do whatever it took to get in your good graces.” He raised his eyebrows to clarify that the only reason a teenage Bryce had ever donned ice skates was to shore up his chances of them ending up in bed or, instead, the back seat of his car. Her parents might have owned a bunch of cabins, but neither had been willing to sneak into one of their rentals.
“Oh, come on, Bryce. It would be fun, and we could brainstorm cookie-decorating themes while we skate.”
