Page 74 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

Ryder’s lips quirk at my words, and he leans back slightly in his chair. But then his expression softens, and there’s this strange moment where I feel like the air between us shifts.

“You know,” he says slowly, “you remind me of her.”

I blink, caught off guard. “Her?”

He nods, a quiet smile tugging at his mouth, though it’s a little bittersweet. “Evie. Your aunt. You remind me of her sometimes. The way you… dive in without hesitation, even when things seem impossible. That whole ‘fake it ’til you make it’ attitude. She used to do the same thing.”

I don’t know why, but his words make my chest tighten.

My aunt, who was always larger than life to me, who always appeared to have everything under control. How could I possibly remind him of her?

“I… I don’t know about that,” I stammer, pushing a stray curl out of my face, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Evie was… she was a force, right? She doesn’t seem like someone who’d have been caught dead panicking over spreadsheets.”

Ryder’s gaze softens even more. “No. You’re right. She was… different. But in the way that she handled things, her ability to keep moving, no matter what, even when things were fallingapart around her, that’s what I’m talking about. She didn’t stop, even when she had reason to. She knew how to keep her focus.”

My heart skips a beat.

“You know, I always just think of her as my aunt. It’s kinda wild to think about her differently.”

He smiles. “Well, I met her last year, and it’s because of her that I took the job here.”

“Oh yeah?” I don’t think I’ve heard this story. “She captivated you that much?”

He nods, his lips tight as if to hold something back. “Yeah. I still can’t believe she’s gone. I met her at a café not far from here. Just over breakfast over a few days.”

I can’t help but smile at the thought of them, two strangers with similar habits, probably both lost in their own lives without knowing how they’d eventually connect.

“But eventually,” he continues, “we started to talk. She kinda lured me in, you know?”

I chuckle softly. “I can see that. She always did have a way of drawing people in, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, and then we became friends, and I eventually just wanted to work for her, to help her with the hotel. To figure things out.” He sighs heavily. “But I didn’t have time to help her before she passed away.”

I bite my lip, trying to process everything Ryder’s just shared.

The way he talks about my aunt is so tender, so full of respect, and I can almost picture the two of them at that café—two strangers brought together by routine, then by Evie’s quiet insistence on connection.

“I guess I never realized how much of an impact she had on people outside of our little bubble,” I say quietly, feeling a strange knot of pride and sadness form in my chest. “It makes me sad that I was always so busy trying to hold my life together that I didn’t get down here more.”

Ryder nods. “Well, she obviously understood that, because she left the place to you.”

I let out a little chuckle. “Unless this is my final punishment.”

“Yeah… that too.”

I smile, but I don’t believe those words, not even for a second.

“She had a vision for this place, didn’t she?” I ask. “And I… I need to make sure it doesn’t just slip away. I’m not as good at this as she was, but I can’t let her dream die.”

Ryder looks at me for a long moment, his expression intense, as if he’s weighing something inside himself. Then he nods, just slightly, which feels like a promise.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ryder,” I say, the words coming easier than I expect. “I don’t think I could do this without you.”

I can’t help but laugh, the tension between us breaking like a wave. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll both be Excel experts in no time.”

And that’s when it happens.

Ryder leans in, just a little too close, enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my skin.