Someone turned up the Christmas music. Extraloud.
Bathin wiped the tears running down his stupid handsome demon face, but kept right on shaking with silentlaughter.
I hoped he silentlyasphyxiated.
“Delaney?” Ryder asked from somewhere by my feet. I retrieved myphone.
“Sorry. That’s, uh, great. Interesting stuff. We’ll have to follow up on it later. Inprivate.”
“What justhappened?”
I turned down the volume for goodmeasure.
“Nothing. Technical difficulties. It’s fine. All fine. Real fine. Just come home safe.” I said that with all my heart in myvoice.
“I will, baby,” he said just as thickly. “I promise. We’re going to break in thattree.”
He ended the call. I stared at my phone. That was…well, that was slightly embarrassing, but also made me feel a lot better. The call had been more than I’dexpected.
A warm flush washed over mycheeks.
Ryder Bailey was lonely and headed home. To me. Even though there was a storm in theway.
I liked the sound ofthat.
A little boy at the table of six was singingJingle Bellsand rhyming it with “my sistersmells.”
His sister punched him in the arm. He just laughed until ketchup dribbled down the side of hismouth.
“Jingle Bellssuck,” sheshouted.
Yes, yes they do,kid.
But maybe not everything about Christmas sucked. Maybe Christmas and romance could go hand-in-hand like magic and life. Like twinkle lights and evergreentrees.
I stood and grabbed my jacket from the back of mychair.
“‘Away to the window, she flew like a flash,’” Bathin quoted, leaving most of the apple pie on the table. He had a habit of following me around now that he was in possession of mysoul.
I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t going to let it slow medown.
“Where are you going?” heasked.
“To find a Christmastree.”
