Santa Bring Me a Ryan

by Rene Penn

  “I see that.”

  One brother resembled Kathy with chestnut-colored hair, and the other favored Paul with his darker, thicker tresses. They both had green eyes, but Ryan's glistened like water in a calm lake. His brother's eyes pierced like jewels. Ryan's voice eased through the air, a slower drawl with a soft bass that tickled Jules' ribs. Bryan's voice? A matter-of-fact, quicker cadence, that drew your attention, the baritone commanding strength and confidence. One dressed like a Banana Republic ad and the other looked like a rancher from TV. Both were well-groomed, though, taking care of how their clothes accented their physiques. And both bodies had been taken care of quite nicely.

  Jules said, “The two of you together must’ve been heartbreakers growing up.”

  "I'm sworn to secrecy," he said with a wink. Then his gaze shifted past her. "Hoagieville. Hold on." He swerved the car sharply to the left. The driver side tire bumped over the curb, and Ryan cackled a little with delight.

  He pulled the car up to a drive-thru window. “You like cheese fries?”

  “Duh, yeah.”

  “Good.”

  He ordered two with that husky voice of his, and the cashier looked happy to see the face that matched the voice. She barely took her eyes off him as she handed over greasy bags and sodas.

  “You need anything else?” The girl raked her teeth over her bottom lip, like a scene from a cheesy movie. Never mind that another woman sat in the car.

  “No, thanks. But you have a good one,” he said before pulling off.

  “I will now.”

  Jules laughed. “Did you see that?”

  “What?” Only he could look cute while playing dumb.

  “Are you so used to that kind of treatment that you don’t even know what I’m talking about?”

  "She's just friendly is all." He pulled into a nearby parking space. "Go ahead." He glanced at her bag of fries as he tore into his. "Let me know what you think."

  She pulled out the Styrofoam tray, popped it open, and stuffed a fry in her mouth. “She didn’t even notice me. What if I were your girlfriend, or… oh, my God, these fries.” She gushed over the melted cheese, the savory spices, and the perfect, crispy crunch.

  “I never get tired of them.” He stuffed a few in his mouth.

  “Speaking of girlfriend—”

  “I don’t have one, if that’s what you’re after.”

  She wasn't. None of her business anyway. "That girl Kaitlyn used to be Bryan's girlfriend, right?" She knew the answer. She just hoped Ryan would divulge a little more info.

  “Yeah.” He smudged his fingers against a napkin.

  She tried prodding a different way. “She seems nice.”

  He took a drink of soda. “So do you.”

  Okay, that didn’t help. Either Ryan couldn’t turn off his ever-present charm, or he wanted to assure her that she still had a shot with Bryan.

  “What do you mean by that?” Jules asked.

  He dug into the fries again. “Is there more than one meaning?”

  She decided to drop it. Otherwise, harassing Ryan for insight about his brother would come off as a little desperate.

  They finished their life-changing cheese fries and went downtown. They walked along a few quaint blocks, wandering in and out of shops that Jules would never find in DC. A feed store, a tannery, a store with rugged, hiking gear. Jules shivered in the cold before they walked into a shop that sold Missoula-branded goods.

  “Where’s your other coat?” Ryan asked. “It would’ve been warmer for walking around town today.”

  Jules picked up a small plastic moose, turning it around in her fingers. “I didn’t feel like wearing it. Plus, we’re not outside a lot.” She stretched the truth on both accounts.

  "You should have. You've turned into one big goosebump."

  She chuckled. His easy humor made him fun to be around. Different from his brother. Bryan had funny moments, but they didn’t come across second-nature, as with Ryan. Bryan’s personality leaned toward serious, which was mysterious and alluring in its own right.

  Ryan said, "You can't leave without this, Short Circuit." He held up a t-shirt with an image of lightning ripping across a beautiful Montana sky.

  “Har-har,” Jules replied.

  He hung the shirt back on the rack. His low rumbling laugh worked its way through the rustic store.

  “I probably should get something with Missoula on it, though. I’ll never be back here.”

  “Why do you say that?” He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her now, as she inspected shot glasses and koozie holders.

  "Let's face it. My visit was a one-time thing. I won't be invited back to the cabin."

  “What about me? I’m in Missoula.”

  “Meh,” she teased. “Not the same.”

  “I guess I’m chopped liver because I’m not in the fancy cabin all the time.”

  She looked up at him. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  He smiled back. “Oh, come on.”

  “We don’t have the history that I have with your brother or your parents.”

  “You just met my folks a few days ago.”

  “But so much has happened since then. It’s like I’ve been here for months.”

  “What about helping you with the turkey? That should count for something.”

  She inhaled. He had her there. “You’re right. That was a history-making incident. And you saved the day.”

  “Damn right.” His square chin tipped up as he looked down at her.

  “Thanks again for that.”

  His eyes went turquoise green, and he gave Jules a grin that would’ve made the lady at the drive-through throw her panties at him. “No problem. Hey, you ever had a huckleberry milkshake?”

  “No. And I only would if it were seventy degrees warmer outside and if the milkshake came with a treadmill.”

  “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and fed it through the crook of his elbow. “We got the ball rolling with cheese fries, so let’s keep it going.”

  ◆◆◆

  Darkness had fallen, and snowflakes salted the sky by the time Bryan and the others returned to the cabin. He’d enjoyed his time on the slopes, but he wanted to get back. He wanted to see Jules, to know where Ryan had taken her, and to see if she’d enjoyed herself.

  Did she have more fun with Ryan than with him?

  Bryan thought the competitive streak had ended when it came to his brother and girls, but apparently not. Jules fired the belly of his inner competitive beast.

  Bryan walked around the house looking for her, like Tigger sniffing for his favorite chew toy.

  “Jules,” he called up the staircase to the second floor. Nothing.

  His mom replied from the living room. “Maybe she’s still with Ryan.”

  Bryan’s face soured. “It’s snowing.”

  “Yeah.” The “so” was implied. “You’ve gotten soft about the snow since you moved to DC.”

  He went to the window near the Christmas tree and flicked the horizontal blinds aside with a finger. “Snow’s different there.”

  “How’s that?”

  "It makes people drive like maniacs."

  “And snow here is just another winter day. You know that.” She tugged at the bottom of her shirt before sitting on the couch.

  Bryan flicked the blinds open again, squinting. “It’s coming down in sheets now.”

  “If you’re worried, give her a call.” She clicked the remote control. “Let her know her curfew while you’re at it.”

  He shot his mother a look, who ignored him. He let the blinds go, and they swayed and click-clacked to a stop. He checked his phone to see if Jules had called. Nothing.

  With the poor signal coverage at the house, any call or text message she’d send may not come through now.

  But it was only a little after 7:30 p.m.

  If he took her to dinner, I’m going to kill him.

  Bryan hadn’t even been on a real date with her. The idea of that happening in the
future seemed unlikely. But he'd still damn Ryan for doing it first.

  He sat on the couch with his mom while the others rummaged through leftovers in the kitchen. He'd join them after logging into his email for a moment, an excuse to keep his mind off what Jules and Ryan were doing. He scrolled through the senders' names and various subject lines to see if anything looked interesting or important.

  Ernie Duchall had sent a message marked urgent. Bryan knew the red exclamation point wasn’t because Ernie was in the holiday spirit.

  Ernie had cc'd a variety of people above his pay grade, including the head of accounting and human resources. In a nutshell, Jules' company holiday party had cost JSA forty-thousand dollars. And that didn't cover the cost of the venue, only the extras, like the ice sculpture and carolers. And since Bryan had "signed off on them," he needed to figure out how to get the company forty-thousand dollars to "reimburse" for these "outlandish expenses."

  Signed off?

  But he never signed—

  Bryan suddenly remembered the purple folder that Jules had him sign in the hallway at work. The procurement requests. Requests that he didn’t look at, because he’d trusted her.

  Steam brewed through Bryan’s fingertips as he scrolled to the bottom of Ernie’s email: “I don’t care how you get the money. Just get it done, or it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

  ◆◆◆

  Jules peered through Ryan’s car window, her right hand clutching the strap of her seatbelt. Two kinds of snow fell from the sky: a thick, clumpy kind that battered the car as it hit, and a thin, floury kind that blew every which way. The combination made it hard to see anything more than a few yards ahead. How could Ryan even drive through this?

  The wipers thumped at a brisk pace, and the defrost button was no match for a blizzard. When Ryan wiped the fog off the window with his hand, Jules knew it was bad.

  “I want to take you back to the cabin, but I don’t think it’s safe right now. My place is closer. Mind if we wait it out there?”

  “That’s fine.”

  Within five minutes, they turned off the road. Bright headlights from a passing car made Jules jump. They came out of nowhere, too close for comfort.

  “Woah, buddy.” Ryan veered the truck toward the shoulder.

  Despite the brief scare, the oncoming headlights helped Jules see her surroundings. A couple of landmarks looked familiar. A hotel. A gas station. In normal conditions, they’d be at the cabin in minutes. But if they continued with this weather, they’d risk a head-on collision.

  Ryan made two more quick turns. She could barely see the house before he pulled into the garage. Ryan cut the engine. A garage door closed behind them, and the space—with its tools, shelves, and garbage cans—hugged the car like a safe refuge.

  Jules didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she saw Ryan exhale.

  He opened his car door. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Yep. Good to be off the road.”

  They both hopped out and went into the house. Ryan scurried ahead to the couch, straightened a throw pillow, and moved the remote onto the coffee table. She couldn't help but compare the place to Bryan's in Virginia. They both were cozy, but Bryan's felt more polished, sophisticated. Ryan's couch looked a little worn, older. A couple of rings stained the wooden coffee table.

  “Have a seat.” Ryan hung their coats in a closet. “Can I get you anything?”

  He walked toward the kitchen, which was a lot closer to the living room than at the Blakely cabin. Had she already gotten used to their large home? She needed to get "un-used" to it. Her place was much smaller, and she'd be back tomorrow.

  “Coke is fine,” she replied. “Thanks.”

  “You want anything in it? Rum? Bourbon?”

  When she hesitated, he snapped his fingers. “How about some hot cocoa and Bailey’s to warm you up?”

  “Sounds perfect.” Though they didn’t spend a lot of time walking from shop to shop, a chill had worked its way into her bones. Ryan’s concoction would do the trick.

  He said, “I’m going to throw a pizza in the oven, too. It’s past dinner time, and I can’t send you home hungry. Ma will do me in.”

  “Thanks. Somehow I managed to work off the cheese fries and huckleberry shake.”

  Ryan stuck two mugs of water in the microwave. “It was worth it, though, wasn’t it?”

  Jules smiled. “It was.”

  While Ryan maneuvered around, Jules contemplated why it was so sexy to see a man in the kitchen. Granted, anything Ryan did could qualify as sexy. Bryan, too, though. She glanced at her phone. He hadn’t even called. Of course not. Disappointment pinged her. Maybe she should’ve joined him earlier. How cute it must’ve been to see him holding hands with little Bonnie on the bunny slope?

  Ryan took the mugs out of the microwave, tore open two envelopes of Swiss Miss hot cocoa mix, and dumped them into the cups. Yeah, he didn’t seem like the type to grind coffee beans. Not like his brother.

  “How long is the storm supposed to last?” she asked.

  He added Bailey’s to the mugs and stirred. “Not sure.”

  She looked it up on her phone. According to a weather map, the storm would linger for a few more hours. Not how she’d imagined spending her last night in Missoula. She’d rather be at the cabin, being served a warm drink by Bryan. She sighed and took a sip from her cup.

  What was wrong with her? Most women would love to be in this situation right now—snowed in with charming, chivalrous, Hot Mountain Man—but her mind wandered back to Bryan.

  “Pizza’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Ryan said, leading her back to the living room.

  She set her phone on the coffee table and sat on the couch. No missed calls. No texts. No voicemails. Maybe Kerri was right. Santa brought Ryan as her Christmas gift, after all. Because obviously, Bryan wasn’t.

  Fourteen

  Bryan had told himself that he’d call Jules at 8:00 if he didn't hear from her before. Then he bumped it to 8:30. That came and went, and she still hadn't called. In case the dodgy coverage had kept the call from coming through, he rechecked his voicemail. No messages.

  Jules must've been having one hell of a time with Ryan. And it ate Bryan up inside. He should dismiss the feeling. But he couldn't. At 8:39, he called her. The phone went straight to voicemail.

  Are they somewhere with a weak cell signal?

  Not hard in certain parts of town.

  Did she deliberately turn her phone off?

  The tapeworm gnawed on Bryan's insides, double-time.

  Is Ryan’s truck stuck in a ditch somewhere?

  Bryan gritted his teeth and pushed himself off the couch.

  “I’m going to get Jules,” he announced.

  The weighted declaration got the attention of everyone in the room—his mom, dad, Helena, and Dave. Even Tigger’s ears perked up.

  “Do you know where they are?” Kathy asked.

  “No.”

  Paul said, “Son, have you seen the weather outside?”

  “Yes.”

  Kathy’s brow knitted. “If you don’t where they are, how can you find them to get her?”

  “I’ll figure it out.” He headed out of the room, only calling back to say, “I’m taking the Jeep. Call my cell if you need me.”

  He went to the mudroom, plucked the spare car keys off the hook they hung on, and slipped on his dad’s hunting coat.

  Kathy appeared behind Bryan as he opened the door. “Are you sure she’s worth all this worry?”

  He frowned. Her statement cemented how his mother felt about Jules. “Maybe not to you,” he replied. “But for me…Whatever the reason, Mom, I can’t help it.”

  “As long as you’re doing it for the right reason.”

  One reason she could’ve meant? Jealousy. The other, revenge. They both gripped him now as he turned on his heels and left.

  ◆◆◆

  Jules and Ryan had eaten pizza, talked, watched a litt
le TV, and finished their hot cocoa. Now he threw a few logs in the fireplace and struck a match. While crouching down, his thighs looked as hard as the logs that burned. He turned and smiled when he caught her staring.

  Oops.

  He disappeared into the kitchen, and she went to the window to take a peek outside. The storm still swirled. And it was getting late—a quarter to nine. And damn it, the coziness of Ryan's house, the spiked cocoa she drank, and the carbs she’d eaten, had all made her tired.

  She couldn’t get tired. If she fell asleep, she might be out for hours. Bryan could assume the worst, think that she and Ryan were hooking up. And the possibility of salvaging anything with him—whatever shred may be left—would be gone.

  She needed to call Bryan. Again. She’d tried once an hour ago, but the call had gone straight to voicemail. If he didn’t know she was calling, he might get the wrong idea. He might think something was happening with her and Ryan. But what could she do? She was stuck.

  “Red or white?” Ryan asked. He held out two glasses of wine, one of each color.

  Wine? Crap.

  “Thanks.” She took the red and resumed her seat back on the couch.

  Ryan didn't sit where he had earlier, on a lone chair beside the sofa. He sat on the couch next to her and stretched out his arm, the muscular limb disappearing somewhere behind her. The grin he gave her turned seductive, and the green of his eyes went ocean-deep.

  She glanced away and quickly took a sip of wine.

  What am I doing?

  She shouldn't be drinking wine. Wine, while sleepy, was the worst thing to do.

  No! I can’t be here.

  “I have to go,” she blurted. She set the wine down, jumped up, and went to the coat closet.

  Ryan hopped up after her. “What are you doing, Jules? You can’t go anywhere in this weather.”

  “I can’t stay here.” She tore her coat off the hanger and threw it on.

  “Why not?” His eyes went watery-green again. A crease lined the middle of his brow, like Bryan’s.

  "Look, I don't want Bryan to get the wrong idea because I'm here. If I'd known that there'd be a storm..." She closed the closet door and opened the one to the house. Her lip trembled. "I shouldn't have come. I'm getting tired, and I can't fall asleep here."