A Lot Like Christmas (Wishful 11)

Hannah smiled. “Thanks for a…memorable night.”

“Back atcha. See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely. I get off at two.” She hesitated. “Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you wished for me to get to a place where I’m comfortable being behind the wheel, just because I feel like it?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know if I’m there yet, but would you drive with me tomorrow?”

This was a trust she’d offered no one else. It was another kind of intimacy—one that, in some ways, went deeper than the physical. Fear was a harder thing to share than pleasure. That she’d share hers with him, ask him to be there for this step, was humbling. Pride and something warmer slid through his chest, and he took a beat, accepted he was already past the point of pulling back, of returning to just friends.

He skimmed a thumb over her cheek, pleased when she tipped her face into his palm. “I’d be happy to.”

She blew out a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“G’night.” With one last brush of her lips, she opened the door.

Ryan waited until she’d gone inside, then strolled back to the truck. It was official. He was in over his head, way deeper than he’d intended. Right at the moment, he had a hard time caring. This was the most relaxed he’d been in years. All because of her. He was grateful she’d blown into his life, grateful she’d somehow scaled his defenses to show him she was the kind of woman he never knew he always wanted. What the hell that meant for them, he didn’t know. But he suspected she’d be on the same page for finding out.

His phone rang as he slid into the driver’s seat. Expecting his mom wanting an update on Percy, he fished it out. But it wasn’t her number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Malone, it’s Petrie.”

At the deadly serious voice of Jerod Petrie, one of the members of his team, all Ryan’s pleasure evaporated. Jerod was still in Afghanistan. He’d only be calling for one reason.

Tension coiled in his muscles. “What happened?”

In the silence, Jerod’s sigh was heavier than an M1 Abrams tank. “I didn’t want to call and tell you this on your time off, what with your family worries and all, but I knew you’d be more pissed if you didn’t find out until you got back.” He drew in a ragged breath. “Robbie Haskins is dead.”

Chapter 9

“What’s that frown for, sugar?” Mama Pearl nudged Hannah’s shoulder. “Does somebody need some butt kickin’ or some pie?”

Hannah’s lips curved up at that. “There’s always a reason for some of your pie.”

Mama Pearl automatically lifted the dome off a beautiful lemon meringue and cut a piece. “Tell Mama Pearl what’s wrong.”

She loved this woman. “Nothing’s wrong. At least, I don’t think so. I just haven’t heard back from Ryan today.”

“Ah. The soldier. You been spendin’ a lot of time with him the past couple weeks. Been smilin’ more, too. And with you, that’s saying somethin’.”

Her cheeks heated and she forked up a bite of pie. “I like him.” Okay, she’d edged well past the simple stage of like, but she didn’t want to think about what that meant just yet. “Anyway, we’re supposed to have plans this afternoon, but he hasn’t answered my texts or phone call. That’s not like him. I’m starting to worry something’s happened to Percy.”

“I reckon Percy’s fine.” Mama Pearl nodded toward the front window, where the man in question stood having a conversation with Duke.

The dog sat on the sidewalk, staring up at his new human with focus. Percy looped the leash around the bench by the front door and came inside. “Ladies.”

“Hey, Percy. What brings you into town today?” Mama Pearl asked.

“Need a pie. I’m headed over to the senior center for a poker tournament. Buy-in is dessert.”