“I liked them. You’re a good writer. You could get published, telling all those stories about your practice. Some of them were really funny. I could sense your personality through your words.”
“Thanks,” she said, both flustered and flattered.
“So...you were with Jane tonight?”
“Yes,” she said, swinging open the refrigerator. “She has a huge family. Half the people there assumed I was a long lost cousin. It was nice,” she said, pulling out the plastic-covered large bowl she’d used to transport the punch.
“Really?” he asked pointedly.
“What do you mean?” she asked, twisting her chin to look over her shoulder.
“I was at a family gathering tonight, where I was the outsider,” he admitted, stepping closer and closing the refrigerator door for her. “I was at my sister’s in-laws’ family gathering in Harbor Town. I’m glad you felt like you belonged. Personally, I felt the urge to run a couple times, but I was there at my sister’s request.”
She paused in the action of removing two cups from the cabinet. “Well...maybe I did exaggerate my comfort level with Jane’s family a little bit. Still, it’s nice not to be alone. On Christmas.”
“Yeah. Now we can not be alone together,” he said, smiling.
Their gazes stuck. She realized she’d frozen in her task. She hurried to fill their glasses.
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up a moment later when he took a drink.
“Jesse wasn’t exaggerating. Now I get why they call it punch,” he said, blinking.
She laughed. “We’ll keep it to one glass, but we could use some Christmas cheer, right?”
“Right.”
She smiled and turned and replaced the bowl in the refrigerator.
“Merry Christmas,” she said when she rejoined Ryan a moment later, holding up her glass.
“Merry Christmas.” They watched each other over the rims of their glasses as they drank.
“I’m sure you have plans for Christmas,” she said after they talked a while. “But I hope you’ll consider yourself invited here, if you have any free time. I’ll make a nice lunch or dinner for us. And your sister and her family are invited, too, if they’d like to come.”
“That’s very generous,” he said slowly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Jesse used to say you didn’t know a stranger.”
“You’re not a stranger,” she said, smiling. “I feel like I know you as well as some people that I see every day of my life.” The full awareness of what she’d just said—of how much she’d meant it—seemed to soak into her brain slowly. When it fully penetrated, she’d looked at R
yan cautiously, her breath stuck in her lungs.
He stared at her. Black lashes emphasized eyes that were so dark brown they verged on black. She would have thought eyes that color would be cold in appearance, but Ryan’s shone with warmth.
With heat?
She spilled a little of her punch on her robe when she stood too abruptly. Ryan sprung up almost as rapidly. She laughed awkwardly as she wiped away the red liquid with her hand.
“Clumsy,” she muttered under her breath. Now her hand was all sticky. “Uh, excuse me...I just need to...”
“Faith?” he called when she rushed over to the kitchen sink and turned on the water.
“Yes?” she asked, glancing around to see he’d followed her and set his half-empty glass on the counter.
“You don’t feel like a stranger to me, either.”