Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

RYAN

" A party?" I asked.

The foyer screamed Christmas, or more like screamed holiday spirit louder than Buddy the Elf ever did.

The house my mom bought this past summer was all cookies and fucking Christmas Spice. After selling the beach house she and my dad lived in for the past fifteen years. When he passed away, I thought she would never leave the house, but selling it to a close friend kind of felt like keeping it in the family. Dad worked for Bobby Anders as his head engineer and strategist throughout his career and at Anders Racing. Bobby's son, Van, who also happened to be an amazing country singer, bought it this past summer.

It just so happened one of her college sorority sisters lived in Love Canyon, ten minutes outside of Palm Springs. When she left the beach, she moved to the desert.

Swapped one kind of heat for another.

"It's the holidays, Ry," Marie Bennington chided, and for the first time since my dad passed, there was a light in her eyes again. Not the kind she had when they looked at each other, or he teased her in the kitchen, but a light all the same. "And my son is here, with a broken heart," she raised her hand as I opened my mouth to protest with a small smile. "Not broken, because yes, Alex and Luc have had this coming for years."

My eyes widened. "Years?"

"Ry, those two circled around each other before they realized it. Alex had stars in her eyes that last summer. But," her voice softened, "you were too busy looking at her to notice her looking at Luc. And when he left, I hoped things would either change, or you'd see that your best friend sometimes is just that, so your real happy place can find you."

Her eyes fell to the watch again, and part of me hated that he wasn't here with her right now. But another part loved seeing her not as sad and remembering the good times and not the heartache.

A Christmas Miracle? Fuck.

The only Christmas Miracle in my head?

Mikayla. Hours spent discovering what other secrets her body held. Those tattoos, the diamond stud in her nose, her eyes? Fuck, her throaty laugh that shot to my over-eager cock? A damned gift wrapped in red and green, and little elves or snowmen all over the place.

The girl on the plane, who would never spare a glance at a guy like me, I thought with a glance at the mirror in the entryway as I plopped my carryon bag down next to my suitcase. Lights snaked up the foyer staircase. The house wasn't as big as some houses in the area. In fact, Love Canyon reminded me of the small town feel of home. Not that home had been a small town. More like beach town, at least when we spent time there. Otherwise, the track served as the home to the traveling circus, as my father referred to it fondly when all the kids arrived and drove the adults nuts, the rest of the time. Fast cars and crazy kids.

Best childhood ever. Friends for life.

"Your room is at the top of the stairs, second door on the right." She glanced at her watch, a sad yet happy at the same time expression softening her features. A gift from my dad on their thirtieth anniversary. In fifteen years, I'd never seen her without it. "Two hours. Take a nap, shower. And let me show off my son before the craziness of the season really invades Love Canyon. I'm so glad you came, Ry. I've missed your face." She kissed my cheek just like when I was five. "And we are going to put all thoughts of anything but Christmas right out of your mind."

Inwardly, I groaned. But this was what I signed up for. Thirteen days filled with all the holly jolly my mom could throw my way to keep my mind off Alex and Luc until I convinced my stupid heart to let it go. "Only a few people, right Mom? Because-"

She called over her shoulder as she headed towards what I assumed was the kitchen with a dismissive wave, "Merry Christmas, Ry."

I dropped my head in resignation and headed up to my room to prepare for the whole damn town to invade.

There goes any hope of a Christmas miracle.

Two hours later, I was holed up in the butler's pantry ( who the hell named it that when no one had a butler?) downing a cup of coffee and checking my emails as holiday music filtered down the hallway.

Voices, more than a few, filled in the moments when the Rat Pack Christmas didn't.

From the timbre and range of them, Mom's ‘a few' sounded like half the town had shown up.

"Mostly the ladies from my book club and their families. They've been dying to meet my famous son."

"Famous? They know I don't drive the car, right?"

Her glare nearly made me gulp. The same one we endured whenever she caught us pulling pranks at the track.

"Ry, you're on the broadcast, and-"

"Mom," I warned, knowing where this was going.

"-I can't help it if a few of the girls in town just show up when we're watching you. Especially in that tux in Vegas for the Championship."

"Show up?"

Her eyes were wide with false innocence. "Book Club. I might have invited a few of the girls to come with their mothers or other relatives. Oh! And the sweet girl who opened the boozy bookstore next to the flower shop. And-"

That's when I knew.

Set up. I might have a mechanical engineering degree among other things, but my mother was the real master strategist in the family. Prime example. Not wasting a moment when her still single, as she reminded me nonstop since moving away, son came to visit.

"Ryan Joseph Bennington, put the phone down. Bobby does not need anything from you that can't wait until morning."

Busted.

My eyes shot up from the screen to find her standing in the doorway, arms crossed and an amused expression on her face. I lifted the coffee cup from the counter where I set it while I checked my emails. Preseason was only weeks away, and the updates to the rules regarding the chassis and intake system were supposed to be finalized before Christmas. With the new engine package and a few recent additions to the team, finalizing and adjusting for variables hit all the things I loved about my career choice.

And it made me feel closer to my dad.

"Coffee."

She rolled her eyes. "And racing, I'm sure. You forget I've been in the sport longer than you have, kiddo, and I know that look. Because it's just like your father right now. He used to sneak off, too, and try to tell me he ‘wasn't working'. I know all the tricks and excuses. Now, put it away. Tomorrow will be just as good since you're nowhere near a wind tunnel or a simulator or," she said with a playful glare, "your laptop, which better still be up in your room and not hiding in my pantry."

I held up my hands in mock surrender. "No more work tonight. All the holiday you can throw at me. Just promise me, no setups."

"I make no promises, Ry. Because I would never do that to you."

"No," I teased, "you'd have someone else do it for you."

"Oh, you know me so well. And I only want to see you happy, kiddo."

With a shake of my head, I followed her into the fray, silently praying for the night to somehow speed up so I could get some sleep and not think about getting laid. Or a Christmas Miracle I left by the baggage carousel.

Of course, time slowed down. But not in the way it did when you wished you would leave or find something more interesting to do. But because the world stopped spinning for just a second.

"Ryan, this is my best friend from college, Tina, and her husband, Harrison. And this is Mikayla. Her daughter."