Chapter Nineteen
Ryan brought the last of the tall Douglas fir trees to the front, propping it up into its plastic stand and bending down to secure it. When he’d arrived at the tree lot on the corner of 24th and 7th Avenue, he’d greeted Hank and Sylvie by asking for a huge favor.
Well, actually two favors. The first one was now sitting on a small worktable in front of him for when Sarah arrived. Sylvie had helped him with that special request.
And the second… He tugged the two pink balls dangling from the white Eskimo hat that he’d asked Hank if he could wear.
Once he’d told the old couple what he planned, they’d been willing to help any way they could. Sylvie had even offered him something that he hoped Sarah would be excited to do.
With the two things he needed for when she arrived taken care of, he’d gotten to work helping Hank move some of the Christmas trees to the front. It was the least he could do. Plus, he had far too much nervous energy to stand around and wait for Sarah.
“Ryan?”
He stood immediately and turned, his heart pounding as he took in the beautiful redhead walking toward him all bundled up in her ivory wool coat and red hat, her wavy hair flowing over her shoulders.
“Hi.” He smiled, trying to steady his breathing. “You came…um…I mean, I’m so glad you’re here…er…you got my note.” Way to start your romantic gesture, idiot. Stop rambling.
“Where on earth did you get that hat?” She stepped closer and reached her hand up, touching one of the round pink balls.
He smiled down at her and pointed to Hank and Sylvie, who were both not-so-subtly watching from the lot’s entrance. “A friend lent it to me.” He pointed. “He’s over there with his wife.”
Sarah frowned. “Is that the old man from the Santa Run?”
“Yeah.” Ryan chuckled. “Pretty random, huh?” He reached out and touched a branch. “He and his wife, Sylvie, sell these beauties every season. They run a Christmas-tree farm in Connecticut.”
“Wow.” She spun around, admiring the trees.
“And the hat was Sylvie’s. She wore it the first time they met—at the Santa Run forty years ago.”
“That’s so sweet.” She glanced over at the couple. “Why were you moving that tree? Are you moonlighting?”
“Not quite.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a blue rag Hank had given him, wiping the tree sap from his hands.
That act gave him a couple of seconds to gather his courage.
It’s time.
His heart banged against his rib cage, demanding to get the show on the road. He glanced down at the business card box in her hand. “I see you brought the malt balls.”
She tossed him a grin and held the box close. “That depends. Are you my Secret Santa?”
“Guilty.” He locked his gaze on hers. In a few minutes he hoped to be so much more. “Can I have a piece of candy?”
“You want my Secret Santa gift?”
“Yes. I’m feeling a little anxious.”
Clearly confused, she eyed him. “Okay.” Removing the lid, she handed him a malt ball.
He popped it into his mouth, ready to make his big reveal.
In one.
Breathe, dammit. Breathe. Two.
Three.
“Sarah, I love you,” he finally revealed how he felt.
Her eyes went wide, and he braced for her response.
“How is that possible?” She took a step back.
Okay, not what he’d hoped for, but he shouldn’t have been surprised that the first thing out of her mouth would be a question.
He blew out a cool breath, ready to answer her, because they weren’t leaving until he’d told her exactly how he felt. She needed to hear it—at least once. “I know I come off as this guy who doesn’t do relationships, but it’s because I’m afraid. People I love have a bad habit of leaving me. My father. Melanie. I’ve been too scared to trust that my heart won’t get broken again. But I can’t let fear win this time. I won’t.”
He gathered up the courage to take a step toward her. “It’s always been you, Sarah. With every lunch we shared, every desert we split, every joke we made, every piece of candy I gave you to calm your nerves…” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was falling in love. I’m in love with you, Sarah.”
“Ryan…” She opened her mouth as if to say more and stopped.
Panic started to set in, and he had to squelch it down. “I know, it’s not your plan, but all I know is I can’t pretend any longer that having lunch with you every day, joking with you, giving you malt balls, kissing you on my high school football field, and making love to you doesn’t mean anything.” He paused. “Because it means everything. You mean everything.”
He moved over to the wooden table and picked up the red pot that Sylvie had given to him. “I have another gift for you.”
Sarah stared down at the small green branch sprouting from the soil. “Is that a Christmas tree?”
He smiled. “I know you said you’d never had a real one. I thought you might like to grow this. You can take it home with you and look after it over Christmas.” He nodded to Hank and Sylvie. “Sylvie’s invited you to come up to their farm and plant it.” He paused, his next sentence full of hope. “I could take you up sometime in the new year. Another road trip.”
“You’re giving me a Christmas tree that we could plant together,” was all she said.
“Yes.” He handed her the branch. “Yes. I am.”
“Thank you.” She took the pot, her hands visibly shaky as she stared down at his gift.
“Here, why don’t I take that.” He took the branch back, set it down on the table, and nodded to the box still in her hand. “The second piece in there is for you because I thought you might need it after I dropped my bombshell.”
He watched as Sarah pulled out the piece of chocolate. Her watery eyes met his.
Fuck. He’d upset her. Putting it all on the line hadn’t been a good idea. He opened his mouth and scrambled to think of something to say, but Sarah beat him to it.
“I don’t need chocolate.” She threw the malt ball on the ground and stepped into his space. “What I need is you.”
Relief hit him hard, followed by adrenaline as she grabbed his jacket with both of her hands and crushed her lips to his. With a groan, he wrapped her in his arms and deepened their kiss, giving her everything his heart felt.
When they finally broke apart, he swiped her cheek with his knuckle. “Merry Christmas, Sarah.”
“Merry Christmas, Ryan.” She wrapped her arms around his middle. “That was quite the Secret Santa gift,” she teased, poking at one of the hat’s pink balls. “Although, I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed by a man in such a festive hat before.”
“I aim to please.” He swept his lips over hers again. She hadn’t said she loved him back, but he’d wait, knowing deep down she would when she was ready. “So, should we join our colleagues at Rockefeller Center?”
She released her arms from around his middle, picking up her Christmas tree. “Yes, but then I think we should take this to your place.” She lowered her lashes. “I’ll need some help getting it through its first night. I’ve never had a real tree before.”
He laughed, putting his arm around her as they walked toward the lot’s entrance. “Lucky for you, I know exactly how to keep a Christmas tree alive.”
They said their good-byes to the old couple. Ryan returned the hat to Hank with his heartfelt thanks, and Sylvie gave Sarah a giant bag to put the Christmas-tree branch in.
Walking in the direction of Midtown, Ryan took the bag for Sarah. “Oh, by the way. You owe me a dollar,” he said, grinning down at her while they waited on the corner to cross the street.
“For what?”
“For the perfectly good malt ball you threw on the ground.” He shook his head. “Such a waste.”
She grinned up at him. “Not to worry. I left a whole bag with Paul back in the office, thanks to my extremely generous and adorably handsome Secret Santa. So…” She linked her arm with his as they crossed the street. “I’d like to hear all about when it was exactly that you fell in love with me. Was it the time I caught Logan’s lousy softball hit and threw it to you for the out?”
“No…and I don’t know if the ball hitting your chest is technically catching it. Plus, you made me run over to you so you didn’t have to throw it far.”
“Whatever. We won that game, didn’t we?” She squeezed his arm. “I know! It was when I brought you chicken-noodle soup that time in September when you couldn’t get rid of your cold, wasn’t it? You thanked me for days.”
That had been a sweet move on her part. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Earlier. Much earlier.”
“Hmmm. Please don’t tell me it was at the summer happy hour where I did karaoke to Midnight Train to Georgia?”
He chuckled. “Was that singing?”
She slugged him on the arm. “Okay, Mr. Wright. Challenge accepted. I’ll get it out of you.” She batted her eyelashes up at him. “Or kiss it out of you.”
He stopped in his tracks and pulled her close, sweeping his lips over hers. He’d tell her tonight. He’d also show her how much he loved her as soon as they were alone.
When they reached Rockefeller Center and joined their colleagues, Sarah’s laughter sent tingles straight through him while she continued to guess when it was he’d fallen in love with her.
He caught eyes with Logan who gave him a nod and went back to talking to Vanessa.
Sarah nudged his hip. “What was that all about?”
“What?”
“That look that Logan tossed you.”
“Oh, nothing.” He grinned, knowing full well his best friend had congratulated him for finally getting the girl.
He stared up at the magnificent tree shining in lights. And just in time for Christmas.