“Excuse me? You’re taking my sister’s side onthis?”
He laughed. “It’s okay. Not everyone gets into the season like Jean gets into well,everything.”
“Right?” I said feeling vindicated. “It’s beenJingle Bells24/7 since before Thanksgiving.BeforeThanksgiving,Ryder.”
“Totally rude ofher.”
“You know what I want for Christmas?” I asked. “Ear plugs. Andtherapy.”
“Maybe if you’re a good girl, Santa will bring you both. Or you could just ask him. Are you sure Santa isn’t…around?”
“Santa doesn’t live in Ordinary, Ryder,” I told him for the hundredth time. “I’m sure we are not the NorthPole.”
“It’s Mr. Kristofferson, isn’tit?”
His guesses were getting better, and by better I meant total bull’s-eye. Man had good instincts. But I wasn’t going to let him off thateasily.
“If Santa lived here, don’t you think I’d tellyou?”
Bathintskedat mylie.
“I think you’d wait until Mr. Kristofferson saw me doing something naughty so he wouldn’t bring me anypresents.”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this, haven’tyou?”
“I’ve had time to do a lot of thinkinglately.”
“Oh?”
“About a lot ofthings.”
“Naughtythings?”
“Always.”
This was not the time or place for dirty talk. There was a family of six plowing through a full turkey dinner just one booth down, and everyone else in the diner had to be over ninety yearsold.
Still, I tucked my head toward the window, cupped my phone, and pressed my face close to it trying to keep this on the down-low.
“Tell me,” Ibreathed.
“Did you just put on a skimask?”
“No.” I moved my hand. “What naughty things are youthinking?”
An old man one table over grinned at me. He did that two-finger point-at-eye thing then point-at-mething.
I raised one eyebrow like I didn’t know what he wasinsinuating.
He made a circle with his pointer finger and thumb then thrust his other index finger into the hole severaltimes.
Nope. No. I was not going to sit here and watch some old guy make dirty sex signals atme.
“Like I bet you haven’t even gotten a Christmas tree yet,” Ryder rumbled. “Or decorated it. Or put up any Christmas lights. Shame, shame,Delaney.”
This was naughty talk? A Christmastree?
“Lights are up and twinkling, Mr. Judgy McJudgerson.” I had put them up yesterday. Just a single string across the mantle above the fireplace. But still. Thatcounted.
