Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,21
replied. “He’s perfect for you.”
“Right now,” I added, peeking through the curtains to the front of the house. “He’s riding on some lawnmower with a scoopy thing at the front, plowing snow off his driveway. And Chutney is on his knee.” I shook my head, flummoxed by his perfectness. “But I gotta say, Liv. What is up with the snow?”
She laughed. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I sighed, watching Ren as he did another lap. “It sure is.”
“Are you even going to want to leave him to come see me?”
I snorted. “Yeah, of course.” But the idea of never seeing Ren again didn’t sit well with me. “I mean, I can do the casual ‘I was just in town so I thought I’d call in’ thing, can’t I? Not that I’d know what to look for in a hardware store.”
Liv laughed. “You’d be looking for the owner by the sounds of it.”
“Which is ridiculous. I don’t know if he even likes me like that or if he’s even interested . . . God. But he sure is cute.” I sighed again. “It’s like I landed in a Hallmark movie.”
“Oooh, those Christmas movies are like sugar. You know you shouldn’t love them but you totally do. All the smiling people and houses with more Christmas decorations than a department store.”
That was so true. Ren had said he hadn’t bothered with a Christmas tree, but I only kind of noticed there were no decorations up anywhere. No tree, no wreath on the door, no garland thingies hanging around the fireplace. Not one thing.
How odd. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve . . .
Maybe he didn’t celebrate it like that? Maybe his tradition was to decorate on Christmas Eve? Maybe they only decorated a tree and he wasn’t doing that this year.
Maybe it was none of my business.
But it hurt my heart to think he’d be sad at Christmas.
Ren drove his little snowplow back to the garage and I heard the motor cut off. “Hey, Liv. I gotta go. I’ll be in touch when I know about the car.”
“We can always come get you,” she offered again. “Josh finishes work at one.”
“If it comes to that, I’ll let you know. Hopefully it’ll all be fine, the car is fixed, and I’ll see you before lunch.”
She made an eeeeeeeek sound. “I hope so too. I can’t wait.”
“Me too.”
“And drive carefully this time! No running off the road. I almost had a heart attack when the police showed up here to tell me you were okay. I thought you’d been hurt or were dead or something.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to contact you. Ren suggested it.”
“Well, tell him I said thanks. And that’s not sarcasm. Once I got over the heart attack, I was so relieved that you were okay. And here! God, I can’t believe you’re actually here!”
I smiled. “Same. I’ll see you soon.”
After I’d disconnected the call, I pulled my beanie back on and went out onto the porch. Ren was walking up with a bouncy Chutney behind him. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, sorry about before,” I replied. “I don’t know why I cried. I mean, I cry all the time—sad movies, happy movies, the news, animal rescue videos on YouTube. I was just so happy to hear her voice.”
He got to the stairs and kicked the snow off the boots. “I cleared the driveway. We can go see about your car. We’ll get you back on the road. If not, I can drive you there. It’s really not that far.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you. For everything.”
He pulled his beanie off. “Let me just grab my keys and wallet.”
“Oh, we’re leaving now?” But that was so soon!
“Well, I thought you’d want to . . .” He made a face, but quickly dried Chutney off with an old towel.
God, I think he wants me to go.
“Uh, sure. Of course. Just let me grab my bags.” I dashed to my room and shoved everything back into my suitcase. “Uh, did you want me to strip the bed? I can change the sheets before I go,” I called out.
He was standing at the door, leaning against the frame, and smiling at me trying to zip up the suitcase. “It’s fine. I’ll take care of that.”
I took my phone charger and plug converter from the wall and shoved it into my backpack. “I think that’s everything.”
Ren swallowed and nodded, finding something in the hall fascinating. “Uh, okay then.”
“Oh, the thermal pants and the socks,” I remembered, looking down