Melt

He is the guy for me. I feel it. It's not just the great sex talking. It's everything. It's the way his lips feel against mine and how my pulse races when he looks into my eyes.

"You should text him." She picks up my phone and drops it in my lap. "Text him and ask him to meet you for a birthday drink."

"No." I laugh off the suggestion. "I'm not going to come off like that woman."

"What woman?"

"The one who is so desperate to hear from the guy she slept with that she tracks him down."

"You read too many advice columns." She reaches to pull the dish of ice cream she was eating earlier closer to her. "If you want to talk to him, call him. He's not going to think you're desperate, Lark. He'll think you like him."

/> ***

I cross the street and head straight for Rockefeller Centre. I was just about to take Isla's advice to send Ryker a text to wish him a Merry Christmas but he beat me to it with a call. He asked me to meet him in front of the enormous tree that New Yorkers and tourists alike flock to every year. I always manage a quick visit to the tree every December. I did that last week when snow was lightly falling. I stood and stared at it before I walked back up to Broadway and took an Uber to my place.

"Lark," he calls to me with a wave of his hand. "I'm over here."

I try not to run although I want nothing more than to jump into his arms. His hair is messy, evidence of the wind that rose up right after dinner. He's dressed casually in jeans and the same black wool coat he wore the night he came to my place.

"Happy Birthday." He skims his tongue over his bottom lip before he kisses me softly. "I made it just in time, didn’t I?"

I think he did. I haven't checked the time since I heard back from him. "It's good to see you, Ryker. Merry Christmas."

"It's great to see you. I would have called sooner but I've had a shit day. One of the freezers at Cremza failed. I finally got that sorted when I found a repair guy who wasn't after my firstborn in exchange for a fix." He exhales in a rush. "I got you something. I picked it up yesterday. I didn't have time to wrap it or anything but I wanted to give it to you now, here in front of the tree."

I look up at the colorful lights. Only a few people are milling about, most of them focused on capturing a selfie in front of the tree. "It's a perfect spot. Is it more cilantro?"

"You'll kiss me without that, won't you?" He reaches to squeeze my chin. "You can't expect me to walk around forever smelling like that."

Forever.

One word with a lifetime of meaning.

"I like the way you smell today." I step closer to him.

"I'll like the way I smell later." He closes the small bit of distance left between us. "I'll smell like you. Your smell will be all over my face."

I smile at the promise of what's to come. Me, specifically if he has his way.

"Close your eyes and open your palms, Lark." He gently slides his fingers over my eyes. "I'll put your surprise in your hands."

I do as I'm told, even though I can feel my hand shaking in anticipation.

I hear the music before I feel the weight of the gift. The song is haunting and beautiful. It's familiar to everyone, yet special to me.

"Open your eyes," he whispers against my cheek.

I do. I look down at the snow globe in my hands. It's a scene that matches the one we're standing in the middle of. There's a tree with the Rockefeller Centre behind it. Spots of colored paint mimic the lights. He must have shaken it before he gave it to me because the snow within is gently falling. It's punctuated by the ongoing melody of Silent Night in the background.

"I love snow globes." I stare at it. "This one is perfect."

"Last week I overheard you telling Dexie that you were coming here to see the tree because you do that every year."

"You were eavesdropping?" I don't look up.

"Yes." He picks up the globe and shakes it again, so the snow rains down. "I saw the snow globes lined up on the windowsill in your bedroom the other night. I could tell that you like them."

"I love them." I finally look up at him.