Blackstone Ranger Scrooge - Alicia Montgomery Page 0,18
would be more comfortable. He opened the door for her and helped her inside.
“Nice,” she said as she eased into the front passenger seat, her hands feeling the buttery soft leather underneath her. “How’d you manage to snag this ride on your ranger salary?”
“Um, it’s a rental,” he said before closing the door. He walked around the front and slipped into the driver’s seat. “Damon’s sent me the GPS coordinates, and I’ve programmed them in. Ready to leave?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Cam started the engine, and they were off. Damon and Anna Victoria lived not too far from the rangers headquarters, in an area where Lennox Corporation, the company that owned the mountains, leased land to rangers. It was apparently one of the perks of the job, and Damon had a huge, beautiful two-story cabin on a large, secluded acreage.
“So, it’s going to be a long drive,” he began. “How about we get to know each other?”
“All right,” she said. “What’s your favorite color?”
He thought for a moment. “Green.”
“Mine too. Looks like we’re going to get along, champ,” she joked.
He flashed her a wry smile. “All right then. Favorite food.”
“Pizza. You?”
“Bangers and mash.”
“A what now?”
“It’s a British dish,” he said. “It’s basically sausages and mashed potatoes.”
“Whew! I thought it was some kind of kinky thing … not that I would mind.” She winked at him.
They continued their game as the drive went on. She enjoyed learning all the little things his preferences revealed about him. And she was loving every minute of it, at least, she was until the last question.
“Favorite time of the year,” he asked.
“Duh. Easy. Christmas.”
“I meant season.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. The Christmas season.”
He frowned, but said nothing.
Sensing something was wrong, she turned to him. “What? What’s wrong with Christmas?”
“Nothing.”
The atmosphere inside the car definitely changed, growing darker. “You … don’t like Christmas?”
He flinched. “Not really.”
“What? Pffft. I don’t believe it. Everyone likes Christmas.”
“That’s an absolute statement, and therefore cannot be true.” His eyes remained fixed on the road. “There are people out there who don’t like Christmas.”
“Yeah, heartless ogres!” Oh my God, this couldn’t be happening! “You’re a polar bear, how can you not like Christmas?”
“And what does that have to do with it?”
“Duh, you’re Santa’s neighbor. And didn’t you ever see those Christmas commercials with the ice-skating polar bears?”
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You do know Santa Claus isn’t real, right?”
The condescension in his tone rankled her. “That’s not the point.” This was slowly turning into her worst nightmare. “Stop the car.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Stop the car, I’m getting out.”
He glanced at her, his face incredulous. “Out? And where do you think you’re going?”
“Home.”
“J.D., be reasonable. We’re in the middle of the mountains. It will take you hours before you can get back down on foot. You’re not serious, are you?”
“You’re not serious about hating Christmas, are you?” she shot back.
“For God’s sake, stop being dramatic. Why does it matter if I do or don’t?” His jaw hardened and those blue-violet eyes turned flinty. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Fine.”
She wanted to press on and ask him why he had a heart a few sizes too small, but the tone of his voice and his sudden chilly demeanor made her think twice. Instead, she sank back into her seat and sulked. Her cat grumbled at her, irritated because she made their mate angry. Well, it’s not my fault he’s a Scrooge.
Thankfully they were already near Damon’s house and the car ride didn’t last any longer. As soon as Cam pulled up to the front of the cabin, she bolted out of the Range Rover and marched toward the door without looking back.
“Happy Thanksgiving—hey!” Gabriel protested when he opened the door and she dashed inside. “What crawled up your ass?”
Not minding Gabriel or greeting Damon, who was sitting on the huge sectional couch in the living room, she went straight toward the kitchen. As she guessed, Anna Victoria and Temperance were already there, placing boxes of Chinese takeout on the kitchen table. There was also fresh pie in the oven—pumpkin and apple, guessing by the smell.
“Hey, J.D. Happy Thanksgiving!” Temperance greeted, her pretty face lighting up, but then dimmed when her gaze landed on J.D.’s face. “What’s the matter?”
“It …” Oh God, how was she going to say this?
“J.D.?” Anna Victoria walked over to her. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Grabbing one of the kitchen stools, she hopped up onto it, then planted her chin in her hands. “It’s a tragedy, ladies.