Page 11 of First Kissmas
The manager disappears to his office to get the paperwork, leaving Ryder and me alone in what will be my new home. I walk to the window, taking in the view of the street below. Other homes line the opposite side, their holiday decorations twinkling even in the midday light.
“Perfect spot for a Christmas tree,” Ryder says, gesturing to a corner near the window.
I turn to find him watching me, his expression soft in a way that makes my heart somersault. But then his features shift to something more neutral, that careful distance settling between us again.
The manager returns with a stack of papers, and I sign on every line he points to. With each signature, the reality sinks in deeper—I’m really doing this. Starting over. Building something new.
“Welcome to the building,” the manager says, handing me a set of keys before he leaves. “Rent’s due first of the month. Any problems, my apartment’s right off the lobby.”
Standing in the center of my empty apartment, I clutch the keys. My first real place, all my own. But I can’t fully celebrate yet—I need work, and soon. My remaining cash won’t last long.
“I should start looking for jobs,” I say. “Ryder, thank you so much for everything. You should head back before it gets too late.”
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re set up with work.” His voice carries that tone I’m learning means there’s no point arguing.
I shake my head. “That could take days.”
He shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Then I guess I’ll be here for a few days.”
“You can’t put your life on hold for me.”
“My life will be just fine.” He moves toward the door. “Come on. Main Street’s only a few blocks away. Might as well start there.”
The walk gives me a chance to really see my new town. A salt-tinged breeze moves through my hair, and seagulls drift above the buildings. Every shop we pass has some kind of Christmas decoration in the window—wreaths, lights, painted snowflakes. It feels worlds away from the oppressive shadow of my brother’s house.
We’re passing a diner when the smell of grilling burgers hits me. My stomach growls loudly enough for Ryder to hear.
“Want to grab something to eat?” Ryder asks, already moving to open the front door.
“Sure, but it’s my treat. To thank you for everything.”
He shakes his head. “Not a chance. Come on.”
The diner’s warmth wraps around us as we step inside. Christmas music plays softly, and a small tree covered in silver tinsel sits in the corner. A waitress in a Santa hat hurries past, calling out, “Grab any open spot, I’ll be right with you!”
We slide into a booth, and I can’t help but notice how Ryder positions himself to see both the entrance and the kitchen doors. Even here, he’s looking out for me.
The waitress swings by with menus. “What can I get you folks to drink?”
“Coffee, please,” I say.
“Make that two,” Ryder adds.
While she’s getting our coffee, I study the menu but find my attention wandering to Ryder instead, eyeing how his large hands hold the laminated menu and how his dark hair falls across his forehead when he looks down. The fabric of his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms.
I force my gaze back to my menu, cheeks warming. I shouldn’t be looking at him like that.
When the waitress returns with our coffee, I take the opportunity to ask about work. “Are you hiring by any chance?”
She pauses, studying me with new interest. “Do you have experience?”
“No, but I’m a fast learner.”
“Hmm.” She taps her pen against her order pad. “We actually do need someone. Juniper just left to have her baby. I was hoping for someone with experience, but...” She gives me another considering look. “You seem like you’ve got a good energy about you. Tell you what—come in at seven a.m. on the day after Christmas. We’ll do a trial run.”
My chest floods with relief. “Really? Thank you, I’ll be here.”
After she takes our orders, Ryder smiles at me. “Look at you, being resourceful on your first day in town.”