Page 98 of The Mistletoe Kisser
“Just got a call from Animal Control over in Lewisberry,” Donovan announced. “Hoarding situation on a farm. They need help triaging the animals.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Sammy told him. “Tell Rainbow I’m canceling my booth for tonight. She’s hiding from you behind that tree.”
Donovan gave her the thumbs up and hurried off.
She took a breath before she turned back to Ryan. “These situations take a while to sort out. Can you find a ride back?”
He nodded, then reached for her hand and held on. “I meant what I said. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
“Me neither,” she admitted softly. “Maybe it’s for the best. Less time to make it awkward.”
Ryan sighed and stroked his knuckle over her cheek. “You’re one of a kind, Sparkle.”
“I hope you get everything you want. Give ’em hell.” She rose on tiptoe and pressed a soft kiss to his stubbly, sparkly cheek. “I’ll think of you every time I see glitter. Goodbye, Wrong Ryan.”
He shook his head as she stepped back. “I’ll see you around, Sparkle.”
With a sad little wave that almost broke her heart, she turned and started to jog after Donovan.
To: Beautification Committee Members
Subject: Operation Wobbling Osprey
Dearest Beautification Committee Members,
We have hit a tiny, insignificant snag in Operation Wobbling Osprey. Not to worry! We will have everything sorted out in time for tonight! Don’t forget to share your favorite nude photos of fellow committee members on your social media to increase sales of our fundraising calendar!
Bruce Oakleigh
P.S. If any of you are willing to spend the next eighteen hours working with some very fun and exciting paperwork, you will be excused from your booth shift at the Solstice.
26
Ryan watched the Volkswagen Bus Lyft pull away from Carson’s farmhouse.
He waved at Fitz, the skinny driver with the receding hairline compensated for with a foot-long rat-tail down the back. Fitz tooted the horn a little too hard. It got stuck and blared the entire way down the lane.
Stan trotted over to investigate a spot under one of the big pine trees in the yard. Only in Blue Moon would an Lyft driver not bat an eye when the passenger requested a pick-up for a sheep.
Ryan kicked at the bottom step and looked up at the cozy, white farmhouse. The snow was almost completely melted, but the heavy clouds above hinted that there was more to come. He most likely wouldn’t be here to see it.
He’d be on his way back to normal.
So why wasn’t he jumping up the stairs two at a time and throwing his shit in a bag? Hurrying back to the life he’d missed?
Back to anonymous neighbors. Back to co-workers pitted against each other, kicking and scratching their way to the top for sport.
All for what?
He glanced around. There must be something stupid in the air on this side of the country, he decided. The competitiveness had never bothered him before. Neither had the toxic leadership or long hours behind a desk that ate away at his life outside the office.
It was still what he wanted. Still what he’d planned for. It was still better than some arranged marriage by a deranged nudist colony. Even though the bride was Dr. Sammy Ames, a woman he hadn’t known he’d been looking for.
Ryan’s Newest Plan
1. Book the ticket.
2. Pack his bags.
