Page 4 of Christmas in His Arms

When he smiled, it made my cheeks feel warm, despite the frigid Minnesota temps this evening. The sun was already close to the horizon, though it wasn't quite dinnertime yet. And I should have been chilled to the bone, but my body flushed with warmth at seeing how handsome he was. When he introduced himself at the hospital yesterday, I'd felt the same way.

"Hey, Mr. Hawthorne, thank you for doing that. You know, you don’t have to. I can just call one of those snow removal places." I hugged my arms over my belly again as his eyes raked down to my feet and back up to my face. He was checking me out, and I felt flustered by that.

"Please, call me Ryan. Mr. Hawthorne is my father." He chuckled, and it was such a warm, rumbling sound that I had to smile. Ryan Hawthorne might have been my father's close friend, but even for his age, he was hot. If I had to guess, I'd have said he was younger than Dad by a few years, but that salt-and-pepper hair had my fingers itching to be tangled in it.

"Ryan," I said, correcting myself. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem. If you need any help with anything else, please let me know. I just need to finish up this little bit and I'll stop bothering you." His jaw tensed, and I noticed how rosy the tip of his nose was. He was avoiding shivering, which was something that for some reason, my body had no need for. I was on fire, the rush of attraction enough to keep me warm.

"Oh, well… I was going to make cocoa." I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb at the front door. "Do you want a cup? I can even bring it out here." Mom would be proud of my small-town hospitality, though I would never admit to offering him the drink. Had it been anyone else, they'd have gone home empty-handed. But there was something about him that made me want to be around him longer.

"Oh, I won't impose, but thank you. Just let me finish up here. If you need a ride to the hospital or someone to do a grocery run, let me know. I'm happy to help." Ryan's eyes swept across my body again, lingering on my chest briefly, and I knew he was definitely checking me out. It made me feel a little flustered again, and I took a step backward toward the house.

"Suit yourself. Thanks again," I told him, then I let myself back into the house and watched through the window as he went back to work.

I leaned on the window frame and stayed out of sight, but I kept my gaze fixed on him. The man was incredibly kind and charming, and the fact that he wasn't even shy about noticing my body made me stand there with a dumb grin on my face. He was way too old for me—at least fifteen years older, maybe more—but my God, just enjoying the eye candy was making this trip home worth it.

The idea of someone like him taking interest in me wasn't at all unappealing, though a little unrealistic. I hadn't seen a ring on his finger, but in this town, an age gap like that would get way too much attention. People would spread rumors like a bad case of fleas, and I'd be run out of town again just like I was after high school. If my underage drinking was enough to humiliate my family, a slutty fling with a silver fox would destroy them.

I let the curtain fall shut and walked back over to the couch where I curled up and used the throw blanket off the back of the sofa to cover myself up. The chill had finally caught up withme, and I found myself staring into the flames again, shivering as I thought about Mr. Ryan Hawthorne. He was the sort of man I actually wanted to date—not the age thing, but the looks, his kind heart, and his gentlemanly nature. If he weren't my dad's best friend and pushing two decades older than me, I might have stayed there to flirt a little.

4

RYAN

Iwasn't even in the hospital room for five minutes before I sensed the tension between Helen and Carrie. Walt lay in the bed still sedated, but now with an added complication of his vitals being unstable. I stood with my hat in my hands, coat still on, staring at the monitors as the numbers fluctuated.

Carrie sat across the room with her phone in her hand, scrolling. Helen sat in a hard chair next to Walter's bedside, holding his hand. She'd been crying again, and I didn't know what the root of the problem was, but even when she welcomed me into the room, Carrie hadn’t looked up.

Walt told me years ago that there was a lot of unresolved tension between him and his daughter, and I assumed now that the same stress that invaded his father-daughter relationship also plagued Helen and Carrie's. Both of them appeared sullen and irritated with one another, and I wasn't going to ask why.

"So they didn't say how much longer they have to keep him sedated?" I hovered, wanting more details but keeping my questions to a minimum. This had to be so difficult for Helen to deal with alone. Walt's brothers didn't much talk to himanymore, and Helen's sister, Patty, lived in Europe now. I didn't know if she'd even come to town if Walt died.

"Well, they want to try to wake him tomorrow, but we want to make sure his heart rate stays steady." She sniffled and looked up at me. "Oh, Ryan, what will I do without him?" Helen was a beautiful woman, but this stress was taking its toll on her. She looked tired and defeated.

"We're going to take one day at a time. He's going to make it. You'll see." The only thing I could do was offer encouragement, and as I did, Carrie put her phone down and looked up at me. I saw the sadness in her eyes too, and it made me want to rush over there and hug her until she was smiling again. The blushing grin on her face a few days ago when I shoveled their walk was magnetic. I couldn’t look away, except to notice how attractive the rest of her body was too.

Helen opened her mouth to speak, but her phone started ringing. "One second," she said, swiping to answer it. The phone lay screen-side up on the mattress, and she immediately put it on speaker phone. "Hello, it's Helen Bennett."

"Helen, this is Norman Smith…" He paused, and I grimaced. What on earth would the police chief want with Helen at a time like this? "Helen, I know this is a bad time for something like this, but we've had a few complaints. You know how folks are around here. Walt's car is parked in a two-hour spot down here, and well, we need it to be moved or I'm going to have to have it towed."

I scowled and curled my hands into fists in anger. The charm of a small town and how close its citizens could be never seemed to outweigh how horrible and insulting they could also be when they were annoyed by something. In this case, Walter's car ina parking spot outside his own hardware shop was irritating someone.

"Well, that's nonsense, Norman." Helen was as insulted as I was. Her tone was laced with contempt. "Walter’s had a stroke. I've been in the hospital with him. That isn't fair. Can't you just put a note on it?"

"I've tried, Helen. Even the former mayor has to obey the laws, and right now, I just want to keep the peace. Last thing we need is Judy Baker gettin' her uppity husband riled up to start trouble. How about I stop by the hospital and get the key and you can just let me worry about it? I'll have it parked in Walt's spot in no time." Norm was a stand-up guy, but that wasn't necessary.

"Hey, Norm," I said, interrupting before Helen could respond. "It's Ryan. You know, just leave it to me. Alright? I'll have it moved before the end of the day. Thanks for being patient." I was already tugging my hat on. Even if I had to park my car there and drive Walter's car home, then walk back to get mine, I'd take care of it.

"Sure thing, Ryan. Talk to you later."

The line went dead, and Helen's phone flashed back to her home screen as she looked up at me. "Thank you, Ryan. I can't believe how people in this town act sometimes." Helen was frustrated and already reaching for her purse, and Carrie cleared her throat as if trying to prove a point.

I gathered the conversation that had made the two women frustrated before I came in was over something similar to this situation with the car.

"No problem, Helen. I'm always happy to help." I held my hand out as she reached the key toward me, and I was alreadyplanning how I'd get down there and manage the rest of my plans this afternoon. I still had a bit of work to do, but maybe Sam would swing by Walt's and take me back to get my car later.

"Carrie, go with Ryan, please. You can drive your daddy's car home so he doesn't have to fuss with it." Helen didn't even look at her daughter as she barked off the orders, and Carrie's face contorted into a scowl.

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