Christmas In Cedar Cove: 5-B Poppy Lane. Debbie Macomber

briefly looked away. “I would’ve found a way to get to you, too.” His fingers tightened around hers.

      “When did you last sleep?” she asked.

      His mouth curved upward in a half smile. “I forget. A long time ago. Maybe I should’ve suggested we meet tomorrow instead, but I didn’t want to wait a minute longer than I had to.”

      “Me, neither,” she confessed.

      He smiled again, that wonderful, intoxicating smile.

      “When did you land?” she asked, because if she didn’t stop staring at him she was going to embarrass herself.

      “Late this morning,” he told her. “My family—well, you know what families are like. Mom’s been cooking for days and there was a big family get-together this afternoon. I wanted to invite you but—”

      “No, I understand. You couldn’t because—well, how could you?” That didn’t come out right, but Paul seemed to know what she was trying to say.

      “You’re exactly like I pictured you,” he said, leaning forward to touch her cheek.

      “You imagined me drenched?”

      He chuckled. “I imagined you beautiful, and you are.”

      His words made her blush. “I’m having a hard time believing you’re actually here,” she said.

      “I am, too.”

      The waitress came for their drink order. Ruth hadn’t even looked at her menu or thought about what she’d like to drink. Because she was wet and chilled, she ordered hot tea and Paul asked for a bottle of champagne.

      “We have reason to celebrate,” he announced. Then, as if it had suddenly occurred to him, he said, “You do drink alcohol, don’t you?”

      She nodded quickly. “Normally I would’ve asked for wine, but I wanted the tea so I could warm up. I haven’t decided what to order yet.” She picked up the menu and scanned the entrées.

      The waitress brought the champagne and standing ice bucket to the table. “Is there something special you’re celebrating?” she asked in a friendly voice.

      Paul nodded and his eyes met Ruth’s. “We’re celebrating the fact that we found each other,” he said.

      “Excellent.” She removed the foil top and wire around the cork and opened the bottle with a slight popping sound. After filling the two champagne flutes, she left.

      Ruth took her glass. “Once again, I’m so sorry about what happened. Let me pay for the champagne, please. You wouldn’t have had a problem finding me if I’d—”

      “I wasn’t talking about this evening,” he broke in. “I was talking about your Christmas card.”

      “Oh.”

      Paul raised his glass; she raised hers, too, and they clicked the rims gently together. “Do you believe in fate?” he asked.

      Ruth smiled. “I didn’t, but I’ve had a change of heart since Christmas.”

      His smile widened. “Me, too.”

      Dinner was marvelous. Ruth didn’t remember what she’d ordered or anything else about the actual meal. For all she knew, she could’ve been dining on raw seaweed. It hardly mattered.

      They talked and talked, and she felt as if she’d known Paul her entire life. He asked detailed questions about her family, her studies, her plans after graduation, and seemed genuinely interested in everything she said. He talked about the marines and Afghanistan with a sense of pride at the positive differences he’d seen in the country. After dinner and dessert, they lingered over coffee and at nine-thirty Paul paid the tab and suggested they walk along the waterfront. She eagerly agreed. Her umbrella was now merely an encumbrance because the rain had stopped, so they brought it back to her car before they set off.

      The clouds had drifted away and the moon was glowing, its light splashing against the pier as they strolled hand in hand. Although she knew Paul had to be exhausted from his long flight and the family gathering, she couldn’t deny herself these last few minutes.

      “You asked me to keep the weekends free,” Ruth murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

      “Did you?”

      She sighed. “Not tomorrow.”

      “Do you have a date with some other guy?”

      She leaned back in order to study his face, trying to discern whether he was serious. “You’re joking, right?” she said hesitantly.

      He shrugged. “Yes and no. You have no obligation to me and vice versa.”

      “Are you seeing someone else?”

      “No.” His response was immediate.

      “I’m not, either,” she told him. She wanted to ask how he could even think that she would be. “I promised my grandmother I’d visit tomorrow.”

      “Your grandmother?” he repeated.

      “She invited you, too.”

      He arched his brows.

      “In fact, she insisted I bring you.”

      “So you’ve mentioned me to your family.”

      She’d told him in her letters that she hadn’t. “Just her. We’ve become really close. I’m sure you’ll enjoy meeting her.”

      “I’m sure I will, too.”

      “You’ll come, won’t you?”

      Paul turned Ruth into his arms and gazed down at her. “I don’t think I could stay away.”

      And then he kissed her. Ruth had fantasized about this moment for months. She’d wondered what it would be like when Paul kissed her, but nothing she’d conjured up equaled this reality. Never in all her twenty-five years had she experienced anything like the sensation she felt when Paul’s mouth descended on hers. Stars fell from the sky. She saw it happen even with her eyes tightly closed. She heard triumphant music nearby; it seemed to surround her. But once she opened her eyes, all the stars seemed to be exactly where they’d been before. And the music came from somebody’s car radio.

      Paul wore a stunned look.

      “That was…very nice,” Ruth managed.

      Paul nodded in agreement, then cleared his throat. “Very.”

      “Should I admit I was afraid of what would happen when we met?” she asked.

      “Afraid why? Of what?”

      “I didn’t know what to expect.”

      “I didn’t either.” He slid his hand down her spine and moved a step away. “I’d built this up in my mind.”

      “I did, too,” she whispered.

      “I was so afraid you could never live up to my image of you,” Paul told her. “I figured we’d meet and I’d get you out of my system. I’d buy you dinner, thank you for your letters and emails—and that would be the end of it. No woman could possibly be everything I’d envisioned you to be. But you are, Ruth, you are.”

      Although the wind was chilly, his words were enough to warm her from head to foot.

      “I didn’t think you could be what I’d imagined, either, and I was right,” Ruth said.

      “You were?” He seemed crestfallen.

      She nodded. “Paul, you’re even more wonderful than I’d realized.” At his relieved expression, she said, “I underestimated how strong my feelings for you are. Look at me, I’m shaking.” She held out her hand as evidence of how badly she was trembling after his kiss.

      He shook his head. “I feel