“Well, that’s sure nice to hear.” She snuggled in, reveling the press of his body against hers.
As they swayed to the music, everything else faded to the background, until she couldn’t think of anything but him. His big, broad hand splayed against the small of her back, fingers kneading slightly, as if he wished he were touching skin. She found herself mimicking the motion against the back of his neck and enjoyed watching his pupils spring wide. Knowing she affected him was as heady and intoxicating as her grandmother’s eggnog.
“How do you feel about traditions?” he asked.
“Generally a big fan. Why?”
“Because we’re standing under mistletoe.”
She glanced up and spotted the kissing ball dangling over their heads. “It’s bad luck not to kiss under mistletoe.”
“Can’t be having any of that,” he murmured, his eyes full of affection and heat.
“Definitely not,” she agreed, already breathless.
His mouth brushed over hers, and she sighed, melting into him. This was dangerous. Oh, so dangerous. It could become an addiction. He could become an addiction. But she couldn’t make herself pull back, couldn’t make herself look beyond what he made her feel in the moment.
By the time he eased back, resting his brow against hers, the song had changed.
“You’re exceptionally good at that, Sergeant.”
Ryan huffed a laugh and brushed a kiss to her temple before resting his cheek there with a sigh she hoped was contentment.
“I have a question.” His voice was a delicious rumble.
Please let it be when can we get out of here. “I expect I can probably come up with an answer.”
“Your year ban on driving was up a couple months ago. Have you driven at all since then?”
All her relaxed arousal evaporated in an instant. She didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want one more person she had to defend her actions to. Sucking in a breath, she put some distance between them. “Why?”
“Just curious.”
Given what she’d told him on their date, of course he’d wondered. And of course he’d asked. There was no reason to treat the topic like it was a state secret, and nothing in his expression suggested he thought she was crazy or stupid or any of the other things she’d felt herself over the past two months as she’d wrestled with it.
“No, I haven’t driven.”
“Why?”
Carolanne had been circling around this question in her unobtrusive therapist way for weeks. Something about Ryan’s directness compelled her to answer honestly.
“I’m actually terrified to drive.” She winced at the admission. “That must sound incredibly stupid to someone in your profession.”
“There are all kinds of fears, none of them stupid to the person who has them.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
“Not kindness. Just the truth. Is it that you’re afraid of having another seizure?”
A rational conclusion, but not the right one. “I’m afraid of hurting somebody else. It was a minor miracle nobody but me was hurt or killed last time. No one’s that lucky twice.”
“Is that why you’re staying in Wishful?”
“Partly.” No reason to deny it. The small town meant less opportunity for disaster. “But beyond that, I like Wishful. I like the pace and the people here. And I’ve decided to apply to the small business incubator to see if I can start my own firm.” It was the first time she’d admitted it aloud since she’d made the decision. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell Carolanne. Somehow Ryan was an easier audience. He wasn’t invested in the outcome.
Interest lit his dark eyes. “Yeah? How’s that work?”
“Basically it’s like a little business nest. Lots of little start ups in one place, sharing overhead and workspace and resources. And there’s a mentorship component that really appeals to me. I understand the design aspect of my work without problem. I don’t need leadership there. But the business side is a whole other story. This feels like the best of both worlds. I can do things on my terms. That appeals to me a lot more than going back to a big city firm with all the backbiting and competition.”
“That makes sense. But surely your future client-base would go beyond here. Won’t you need to drive for that?”
The question was all practicality, so she fought not to bristle, but she really wanted him to drop the issue. “Yes. And I’ll get there. I’m just…not ready yet.”
She waited for him to argue with her or offer to drive with her to get her over the hump, but he simply nodded, accepting. Something in her relaxed. He wasn’t going to push or judge. And why should he? This thing between them was temporary. Whether she drove or not didn’t affect him long-term. If that gave her more than a little pang, Hannah ignored it. She just wanted to focus on the right here and now.
The music came to an end and they broke apart, applauding.
“Holy shit,” Ryan murmured.
“What?” Hannah followed his gaze to see Percy and Betty caught under one of the many mistletoe kissing balls hanging around the space. “Oh man, how’s he going to get out of this?”
“Looks like he’s not.”
As they watched, Percy bent and pressed a light kiss to Betty’s lips. It wasn’t lengthy or particularly demonstrative, and he pulled back almost immediately, stunned surprise lighting his face. But he didn’t let her go or walk away.
“Well,” Ryan said. “This is gonna be interesting.”
“If the military ever decides to go with a softer touch, they could learn a thing or two from you.”
Hannah just shot Ryan a secretive smile as they followed Brooke Redding, director of the Wishful Animal Rescue, down the central aisle between kennels as dogs barked, bayed, and whined from all sides. He had no idea how she’d managed to convince Percy to volunteer for dog walking duty, and he’d been standing right there. It was something to do with those big blue eyes and the dimples. He wasn’t exactly immune to that combination himself. Either way, this latest scheme to help him covertly assess Percy’s physical health was a good one.
“—so appreciate y’all coming down. We’re always in need of something down here. Volunteers, supplies, donations. With the holiday season and winter finally getting started, we’re even shorter than usual on all of the above,” Brooke explained. “I’m trying to do a big push to clear out most of the animals before the real cold hits. We aren’t equipped for any serious winter weather.”
Most of the facilities were outside, under aluminum awnings. Rather than proper walls, a series of tarps were stretched to help block the wind. It wasn’t a bad setup for mild weather, but if they had a freak cold snap below freezing, the rigged space would be seriously problematic. They needed a real building.
“I’ve been running an adoption special to try to encourage people to gift a shelter animal for Christmas,” Brooke continued. “Several of our puppies and kittens have been picked up from that promotion, but that leaves our older animals.”
“Poor babies,” Hannah cooed. “Who’s in need of some love?”