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Ginny eased back in the passenger’s seat, her legs stretched out in front of her. For a moment, Max was quiet. From the corner of her eye, she watched him turn onto the backroad that would take them toward Elm River and this farce of an excursion. She was not fooled for an instant. This was all about her father and Mona wanting a moment alone.
Despite not knowing about their relationship before coming back to town, Ginny had quickly discovered she was cramping her father’s style. “I’m trying really hard not to imagine them doing anything untoward back there,” she said with a shudder.
Max barked with laughter, the motion causing the steering wheel to jerk. “Sorry.” He huffed out another laugh before dabbing his eyes with his sleeve. “That’s literally the last image I need.” He flashed a wide smile before returning his attention to the road.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Ginny admitted, her finger mindlessly tracing the stitching on the car’s seat. There was a buoyant sensation keeping her light, carefree. “You know what this reminds me of?”
“Hmm?” The wordless question reverberated through the car, drawing her gaze back to Max.
She watched his arms shift as he turned the car again. The flannel shirts were not new, but the way Max filled them out was. He had always had a fairly athletic build, albeit with a little extra padding from so many hours in the kitchen, but since she’d returned, she’d seen little changes to his appearance that were hard to ignore. The stubble that peppered his jawline, the extra creases by his eyes, these were evidence of their lost years. He was certainly looking good. Not that she noticed. Yeah right...
When he’d held her in his office, it felt like she was protected from the world—like she could burrow away in his arms and ignore her problems. But wasn’t that a funny notion, considering a couple weeks ago she’d thought of Max as one of her problems?
“You were saying?” Max asked, yanking her from her musings.
“Oh,” Ginny said on a sigh. “I was thinking about when we’d drive to Elm River in high school.”
Max’s smile widened, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “I remember.” His voice sounded a little raspier than normal. “I don’t think we ever went to Elm River with pure intentions.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” She had no idea why she was taking them down this particular path of conversation, but here she was, throwing the doors wide open and exposing her thoughts to Max. “Those were good times.” The truth escaped her lips in a whisper.
Silent for a moment, she wondered if Max had heard her. Before she could change the subject, Max replied, “No, Gin. They were the best times.” His fingers flexed on the steering wheel as he maneuvered them around a bend in the road.
“When was the last time we were back here?” Ginny couldn’t keep the question inside; it practically crawled out of her.
“Probably three years at least.”
She didn’t doubt him, as Max always remembered. While some of her girlfriends would lament their partners forgetting their anniversaries and birthdays, Ginny always knew Max would surprise her. It wasn’t that she didn’t think about the good times now, but she couldn’t pinpoint certain details like Max could. He was practically the librarian in their relationship, cataloging every moment and filing it away for safekeeping.
As the car stopped at a red light, Ginny looked outside. This was a quieter part of town, with a row of houses on either side of the street. Each house was decorated for the holidays, with lights twinkling all around them. It was hard not to feel the holiday spirit when it surrounded them.
Before Max could accelerate when the light turned green, Ginny saw the old ice cream shop on the corner. “Pull over!” she shouted, leaning forward and slapping her hand on the dashboard.
Max jumped beside her but did as he was told. “Jesus, Gin. What is it?” He put the car in park and turned to face her. His eyes shone with concern, his hand instinctively reaching out to touch her arm. “You s-s-scared the hell out of me.”
Shaking her head, Ginny felt guilty for startling him. “I’m sorry, but look.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder at the small shop and smiled. “Remember?”
At her words, Max’s face morphed into an expression of pure joy. “Of course, I do.” He turned the car off and pocketed his keys. “Looks like they’re still open.”
Ginny hadn’t meant for Max to stop for ice cream, especially in forty-degree temperatures, but she wasn’t going to argue. Clambering from the car, her feet slid on a patch of ice. Max was by her side in an instant, steadying her and holding her firm. “Thanks,” she said, her gaze locking on his. Despite her brain telling her it was a bad idea, Ginny felt herself leaning into Max’s embrace. This was becoming too familiar, too comfortable. The feel of Max’s hands shouldn’t still have this effect on her. Yet here she stood, with oatmeal in her skull and a jackhammer in her chest.
The ice cream shop was lit up like it was the middle of summer. Oversized plastic ice cream cones flanked the entrance, and the air smelled like waffles and hot fudge. Ginny’s mouth watered as she stepped inside, Max hot on her heels. She was delighted to discover the same older woman behind the cash register, a paper hat on her graying head. She and her husband owned the shop and were staples in the community.
“Good evening,” she said with a wave. When she registered who they were, she clapped her hands and squealed. “I haven’t seen you two in ages. How have you been? Come on in!”
Ginny flushed at the owner’s reaction, but could not fight the smile on her own face. “We’re good,” she said, not bothering to step out of Max’s grip. Since he’d steadied her by the car, his hand hadn’t left her arm. Now she leaned into him as she glanced into the glass display cases. A rainbow of confections glinted back at them, all tempting her with more calories than she needed in a lifetime.
“We are good,” Max said beside her, his grasp tightening slightly.
This felt so pleasant, perusing ice cream flavors like it was the most important task of their day. It was the perfect distraction from her father’s impending surgery. Not to mention, it felt good being with Max in easy company. There was no fighting, no tension. They were two people out for a little treat. Be careful, her heart screamed. You don’t want to hurt him again.
“Let me guess,” the woman said with a mischievous grin. “I know it’s been a while, but I think I remember.” She tapped the side of her head and stared, looking like a fortune teller about to drop a truth bomb from the great beyond. Ginny doubted the woman could remember their orders, but it was fun to play along.
“I’ll be impressed if you remember, Gloria.” Max stepped up, pulling Ginny closer. She wasn’t surprised he remembered the owner’s name, but then again that was Max for you. Thoughtful, always thoughtful. It’s funny how she’d forgotten that.
Gloria snapped and pointed to Ginny first. “Mint chocolate chip in a cone, whipped cream and two cherries.” Before Ginny could confirm her order, the woman turned to Max and said, “Rocky road in a dish with caramel sauce.”
Max chuckled. “All right, I’m officially impressed.”
Ginny scoffed. “I couldn’t even remember my order.”
“Coming right up,” Gloria said and went to work making their desserts. Despite her age, she was nimble and operated the spring-loaded scoop with the accuracy of a marksman on a shooting range. She was the Annie Oakley of ice cream.
Leading the way toward the front window, Max pulled out a chair for Ginny and they settled in for their treats. “This place looks exactly the same.” She noticed as she looked around. Despite the holiday season and near-freezing temperatures, the ice cream shop remained open all year round. Back in the day, she and Max would drive out for ice cream and a break from their routine. It was a simple outing, one that usually ended with cherry-flavored kisses.
Wordlessly, Gloria delivered their sundaes. Max pressed a twenty-dollar bill into her hand and winked. “Thanks, Gloria.”
She flushed and pocketed the money in her pink apron. “You kids have a good night.”
“We will,” Ginny and Max said in unison.
She couldn’t help herself, she actually giggled. Sitting here and now, Ginny felt like her old self for the first time in a while. Her mind might be racing with a million competing thoughts on her relationship with Max, but she could not—and would not—deny she was having fun.
Max dug his spoon into his ice cream, a string of caramel trailing behind. As he took a bite, the sticky sauce clung to his growing beard. Without thinking, Ginny leaned across the table and swiped at the spot with her thumb. “You have a little ...” Her words faltered as Max’s tongue darted out of his mouth. How had she forgotten what an inviting mouth he had? His lips were plump and fit perfectly against her own. Woah, girl! Slow down.
Clearing his throat, Max’s gaze slid to her lips. Did he want to kiss her too? Suddenly Ginny longed for their high school days, when all they had to do was glance at the other to know what they were thinking. Now it was all too raw, too muddled. History and the time apart made things too complicated. Idly she wondered if it were possible to even try again. Was that old adage about not going home again true? Ginny feared it might be.
“Thanks,” he breathed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
God, even his throat looked erotic in the fluorescent lighting of the ice cream parlor. She turned and hoped to find a distraction outside the window. Unfortunately, with the bright lighting of the shop and the night sky outside, the image of the pair reflected back. The scene was cozy, intimate. Bending toward each other, their knees knocking under the table, they looked like they belonged together.
No, that was wishful thinking—lustful even. Ginny was drooling over her ex-husband like a horny teenager, and it had to stop. Yet for all her chastising, she knew it wasn’t that simple, because things with Max had never been simple. The thing now was, she knew he would be worth the effort. She just had to decide what to do about that.
*
Max thought he was having an out-of-body experience. Maybe he’d died and was stuck in limbo, hovering over his body like a ghost in an old movie. It was the only thing that could explain what was currently happening. Ginny stared at him with an expression that he knew, fondly and intimately. She was into him, and he had no idea what to do.
Nearly choking on a hunk of nuts and marshmallows, he asked, “How’s your ice cream?”
Ginny slurped a blob of whipped cream from her cone. “Sinful,” she mused.
Yeah, sinful just about covered it. Max took a moment to studiously examine his own dessert as he struggled to catch his breath. Things with Ginny over the last week had yoyoed in every conceivable direction. One minute they were fighting, the next they were ignoring each other, and now apparently, they were provocatively eating ice cream in the middle of nowhere Ohio.
A buzz in his coat alerted Max to a text, and he debated checking his phone. Before he could decide, Ginny’s phone beeped from her purse. They looked at each other and froze. “That can’t be good.” She huffed as she retrieved her phone.
Max beat her to it, opening a text from Harold. don’t worry, kids. Elsie dropped the decorations off at the center. have fun!
“Yeah, we’ve totally been had,” Ginny said on a chuckle.
Max froze, waiting for her reaction to morph into something less amused, something more hurtful. But to his pleasant surprise, she simply turned back to her ice cream and hummed as she ate.
As Max ate the last of his ice cream, he heard the squeaks of Gloria’s sneakers on the tiled floor. “I hate to say it,” she said as she joined them at the table. “But I might have to lock up early. It’s been a long day, and I’m knackered.”
“Not a problem, Gloria.” Balling his napkin up, Max tossed it into his empty bowl and gathered Ginny’s trash. He walked to a trashcan before helping Ginny with her coat and scarf, his hands resting on her shoulders longer than was necessary. He savored the extra moment of closeness.
“Seriously, thanks for staying open. This has truly been delightful,” Ginny said.
He believed Ginny as she allowed him to help her with her things.
The older woman’s lips quirked. “I saw you two in the parking lot, and I had to see you. It’s been a rough year, you know.” With her hand, she waved to the space around her. “I lost Fred, so the shop doesn’t feel quite the same.”
Ginny splayed a hand over her heart and gasped. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.”
Max remembered the older man. He was roughly the same height as Gloria, and together they ran the shop. Having lost Ginny to divorce had been painful enough. Knowing she could be gone forever like Fred brought a knot to his chest that he tried to avoid.
Repeating Ginny’s condolences, Max added, “Is there anything we can do?”
Gloria shook her head, her eyes still smiling. “You are both darlings to ask, but I’ll be fine. Our kids come up on the weekends, and to be honest, I am not ready to move on. This was our place, and when I’m here, I feel like Fred is still with me.”
Ginny offered a watery smile. Turning to Max, she caught his eye, but he couldn’t read her expression. There were a lot of emotions in that gaze.
“It was good to see you.” Ginny reached out and clasped the woman’s hands in hers. “Thank you for staying open a little longer for us.”
“Anything for love, dear. Fred and I adored watching couples come in. I know we sell ice cream, but love is sweeter than anything else.” She winked as she stepped back and opened the door. Max put his hand at the small of Ginny’s back and guided her into the cold night air.
He’d be full of sprinkles if he said the other woman’s words didn’t hit their mark. Love did make everything sweeter. That was especially true when the person you love felt the same way. Max wasn’t naïve enough to think one ice-cream cone would patch up his relationship with Ginny, but it felt like a damn good place to start.
When they got into the car, Ginny buckled up. “I guess we should head back, if that’s okay.”
“Sure,” Max said as he turned on the car and fidgeted with the knobs for the heat. He was distracted, his thoughts ping-ponging between Fred and Gloria’s love story and theirs. It killed him not to know what Ginny was thinking, but he still wasn’t ready to poke the bear. This evening had felt like heaven, and he wanted to stay in the land of make-believe.
Ginny turned on the radio, and Max was surprised when she chose a Christmas station. She leaned back and hummed along to a song about miracles and wishes, her head tilted toward the side. Lost in the moment, he nearly missed the sight of a deer crossing the road in front of them.
At the last second, he slammed on the brakes and threw his arm across Ginny to protect her from the potential impact. He felt her frame lurch forward against his arm, and he nearly lost the contents of his stomach all over the steering wheel. Fortunately for them—and the deer—the car stopped just in time. After swallowing past the bile in his throat, Max found a few words—or at least syllables.
“G-G-Gin.” Max felt his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. His brain felt too foggy to articulate anything.
“Holy shit!” Ginny gasped, frantically looking through the windshield. The deer stared at the car, the beams of the headlights reflecting off its glassy eyes. After a moment, it turned and galloped into the woods and out of sight. The last thing Max could make out was its cotton tail bobbing away.
Maybe it was the adrenaline of the moment, maybe it was the belly of sugar and the smell of Ginny’s perfume, but Max couldn’t hold back his reaction. He pulled over to the shoulder and turned on the four-way flashers. His hands shaking, he reached out and took one of Ginny’s hands and squeezed before bringing it to his lips and kissing the inside of her palm. The sensation of her warm skin calmed him slightly, but the moment still shook him.
“Are you o-k-k-kay?” he asked, his eyes scanning her for injuries.
Shaking her head, Ginny scoffed. “That was insane.”
“I’d s-s-say.”
Ginny’s eyes turned soft as she took in his haggard expression. “Are you okay? Those were some lightning-fast reflexes.”
“Yeah, I’m f-f-fine,” he lied. While it could have been worse, Max knew he was uneasy. The notion of something happening to Ginny, especially after learning of poor Fred’s demise, shook him to his core.
“You don’t look fine,” Ginny helpfully added. “In fact, you look like you actually killed Rudolph.” She tilted her head and snag his gaze and cracked a smile. “We’re all okay, Max. I promise.” Her hands patted her chest in confirmation.
Finally, he felt himself exhale and sag against the seat. “That was nuts.”
“Yep.” She snorted, reaching out and resting her hand on his thigh. “But everyone survived. You didn’t kill Santa’s right-hand man.” When he didn’t react right away, she added, “Or us. We’ll live to tell the tale of our trip to nowhere and the deer who tried to kill us.”
Max chuckled, slowly at first until he couldn’t hold back his laughter. Ginny joined in, and soon they were doubled over in a fit of giggles. Damn, it felt good to laugh. It felt darn near orgasmic to laugh like this with Ginny. They used to be best friends. They used to laugh every day.
When they’d caught their breath, Max put the car in drive and headed back to Harold’s house. He was exhausted and knew Ginny felt the same. They were hours away from surgery, but he hoped the night proved to be the entertaining distraction she needed. It certainly had been for him.
Pulling into the driveway, Max wasn’t surprised to still see Mona’s car. He parked beside her. Turning to Ginny, he said, “Potential holiday homicide aside, this was really nice.”
He held his breath and waited for Ginny’s reaction. She offered a genuine smile as she leaned down to gather her purse. "It was perfect. Really, Max. I had a good time.”
“Let me walk you to the door.”
“Worried about that Buckeye Falls crime?” She winked, proving she was still in a playful mood.
Max shrugged, not caring how corny it was to walk his woman to the door. “Nah, just wanted to make sure you don’t slip in those silly boots.”
Ginny glanced down at her feet and frowned. “I love these shoes. I got them at a trunk sale at Saks last year.”
“And I’m sure they’re great when it’s not an ice-skating rink outside.”
“Haha. If it will make you happy, I’ll let you walk me to the door.”
“If this was high school, you know I would.”
Ginny smirked. “If this was high school, you’d be doing more than walking me to the door.”
In the close confines of the car, Max didn’t miss the flush creep up her cheeks at the mention of their former dates. There were very few nights out that didn’t end in passionate kisses and stolen moments. What Max wouldn’t give for one of those now.
Whether sensing where his mind had gone, or merely leaning into the moment, Ginny didn’t move to get out of the car. She was close enough that he could count the freckles on her neck, and he wanted to trace the path with his tongue. I really need to get a grip.
Ginny licked her lips. “Max, I ...”
But she didn’t have the chance to finish her thought, because Mona was there knocking on the car window. Both jumped at the intrusion, and for the first time he wished Mona was anywhere but in Buckeye Falls.
Ginny blinked and pulled back, opening the car door and stepping out to join Mona. “How’s Dad?” Ginny asked, not bothering to hide her concern.
“Oh, he’s fine. Just fell asleep.”
Max couldn’t tell if Mona was embarrassed about interrupting them or lying about getting them out of the house, but she groaned. “Thanks for giving us a few moments. But please know, I really did need those decorations.”
Ginny hiked her purse up her shoulder and shook her head. “Do not worry about it, Mona. We had a nice time.”
“I won’t keep you,” Mona said as she backed toward her car. “I know tomorrow is a big day.”
Max saw Ginny’s shoulders sag and her expression shift to something he couldn’t decipher. It was clear she was kicking them both out, and he wouldn’t delay the inevitable. The night had been a pleasant surprise in more ways than one. “I’ll be here by eight tomorrow to help you get Harold downstairs. He’ll be grumpy from lack of caffeine and food.”
Ginny’s mouth opened, but she snapped it shut. “Sounds great, thanks.”
Before she could escape, Mona pulled Ginny against her in a powerful bear hug. “Thank you for coming home to help Harold. And for all your work with the Jubilee. I hope you know how much we all appreciate it.” The older woman’s voice hitched.
Ginny looked uncomfortable, but Max couldn’t tell if it was the hug or the general situation. “Can I walk you out, Mona?” He extended his elbow for her to take. “Harold would never forgive me if you slipped on the driveway.”
Mona released her death grip on Ginny and flushed. “Good night, dear. You will keep me posted tomorrow, won’t you?”
“Of course. Thank you both for your help,” she said in parting as Max closed Mona’s car door. Standing on the porch with only the light of Mona’s headlights, Ginny looked so small and fragile. The red of her sweater practically bled into the night sky.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, standing next to his car. Ginny nodded, wrapping her arms around her torso. “Get inside and back by the fire. You’ll be no good to Harold if you’re a popsicle.” Ginny’s teeth peeked out from behind her lips—exactly the reaction he had wanted. “I’ll be here by eight, I promise.”
Ginny backed toward the door, never letting her gaze drop from his. “I trust you,” she said quietly. If the street wasn’t deserted, Max would have assumed he misheard her. But her words rang clear, and they bolstered his resolve.
“Good night.” Getting behind the wheel, Max drove home in a fog. Part of him worried about Harold, even though it was a routine operation. What he really couldn’t stop obsessing about was Ginny. From their work on the Jubilee to helping with Harold, Max promised himself he would be her rock. No matter how hard she tried to push him away, he was standing firm this time. Tonight the woman by his side felt like the Ginny of yesteryear, and it was like an early Christmas miracle. A kernel of hope bloomed in his chest, and Max savored it. Things might be different this time around.