Christmas Treats - A Collection of Holiday Rom-coms

by Piper Rayne

  We silently stare at one another—the atmosphere around us pinging—not with hatred but something else. Without thinking, I reach out and brush a blonde lock of hair behind her ear; a spark jolts through me when I touch her. She smacks my hand away. “Rude much?”

  “Huh?”

  “Touching me without my permission.”

  “This coming from the woman who just groped my ass.”

  “Whatever,” she snaps. “Just keep your hands to yourself.” She turns around and storms away from me. Her sexy ass swaying from side to side with each step she takes. She grabs her bag, hugs Drew, and leaves.

  Turning back to the bar, I pay for the drink Reese drank and decide to call it a night myself.

  Climbing into my Jeep, the engine turns over and “She Hates Me” by Puddle of Mudd blasts through the speakers. It’s kind of appropriate after the run-in I just had with Reese. Shaking my head, I grin when I think about the feisty little spitfire. She fucking hates me, but I’m going to change her mind. There’s something about that woman, which has piqued my interest since high school, but in the last few weeks that interest has sparked to life.

  As I make the short drive home, I can’t stop thinking about Reese and what happened when I brushed the hair off her face. Something sparked inside of me, and I’m going to make her fall to her knees before me.

  3

  Reese

  …Three weeks later

  “Are you kidding me?” I growl, stepping out of my car, I slam the door and turn around. Coming face-to-face with him, Jesse Thornton. My arch nemesis. At every turn he’s pissing me off and now, his big ass Jeep ran into the back of my Beetle.

  “Yo, jackass, where did you get your license,” I shout at him, “from the Wheaties box?”

  “Calm your farm, Short Stack,” he says, his voice deep, rough, and calm.

  “Do not tell me to calm my farm when you just crashed into Betty.”

  “Who the fuck is Betty?”

  “My car, Betty Beetle.”

  “You name your car?” he questions me.

  “Don’t you?” I sass back at him.

  “Ummm, no,” he snaps, “and normal people don’t either.”

  “I do,” Drew says from next to me. “Mine is Molly Mini and Rusty’s is Rodney Ram.”

  “You are all certifiably insane.”

  “At least we can drive,” I scoff. “You better have insurance.”

  He grips the back of his neck and I immediately begin to fear he doesn’t. “Of course I do, what kind of idiot do you think I am?”

  “A big one.”

  He rolls his eyes at me. “So mature, Reese,” he snaps, just as Sheriff Andy Isack rolls up.

  “Fuck,” I mumble. Jesse turns around to face the sheriff, a smirk on his gorgeous face.

  “Reese Turner,” Sheriff Isack says, “what have you done now?”

  “What makes you think it was my fault?” Jesse snickers and I glare at him.

  “It generally always is,” he says, grinning at me.

  “Touché,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. I’m not the best driver and over the last few months, Betty has been in the repair shop more than she’s been at home with me. “But this time, it was him.” I point to Jesse. “He ran into Betty.”

  “And to think, you just had her bumper repaired.”

  “Again,” Jesse says, smirking like the jackass he is. “You should be due for a freebie by now.”

  “Guess I will be, since YOU will be paying this time,” I sass back. His face drops at my words. Suck on that, Jerkface, I think to myself as I watch him walk over to Andy and the tow truck driver who has just pulled up. The three of them chatting and laughing. My eyes are locked on Jesse as he throws his head back and laughs. It's such a shame that such a good-looking man is a mega asshole.

  Rusty arrives just as my and Jesse’s cars are towed away. Turns out Jesse’s brakes failed, causing him to run into Betty and me.

  “What’d you do this time?” Rusty asks me, after kissing Drew hello.

  “For once it wasn’t my fault.”

  “First time ever,” he teases.

  Sticking my tongue out at him, I laugh. Everyone knows I’m not the best driver and thankfully, I finally have an accident I didn’t cause. “Jesse ran into me and busted Betty’s ass.”

  “Whose ass did I tap?” Jesse asks, joining Rusty, Drew and me.

  “You didn’t tap my ass, you busted my ass.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize what I just said.

  “Holy shit, Reese,” Drew says, with a laugh, “that is the funniest thing you’ve ever said.” She’s now doubled over, holding her stomach with tears pouring down her face.

  Flipping Drew the bird, I shake my head but my mouth lifts in a grin because that really was funny.

  Looking back at Jesse, I scowl. “I can’t believe you hit Betty,” I say, my voice laced with venom.

  “Can’t believe you named your car, that’s just stupid,” Jesse snaps back at me.

  “Now, now, Jesse,” Rusty says, “no need to be harsh.”

  “Ohh, that’s right, you all name your cars.”

  “Should we name yours?” Drew says, with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Yes!” I shout while Jesse growls, “Hell no.”

  “Just give in, dude,” Rusty says. “It’s the easiest way with these two.” He flicks his finger between Drew and me.

  “Johnny,” Drew shouts, “You own Johnny Jeep.”

  “Yes,” I say, “that’s perfect.” And in my mind I have renamed him Jerkface Jesse.

  “God help me,” Jesse says, just as his mom pulls up.

  She rolls down the window, “I hope you apologized to Reese for hitting Betty.”

  “Really? You know her car’s name?”

  “Yes, and this here is Penny Pontiac.”

  “Fuck me,” he mumbles under his breath.

  “Jesse Thornton,” she scolds him, “language, I raised you better than that.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” he says, as he climbs into the passenger seat. He looks out the window at me. “Reese, I’ll leave my insurance details on your desk in the morning.”

  “Thank you.” I nod and smile.

  “And, Short Stack, I’m sorry for hitting your car.” His sincerity warms my heart, I wish he could be like that all the time.

  Standing on the sidewalk, I watch them pull away and sigh. “What’s the sigh for?” Drew says, throwing her arm around my shoulders.

  “I’m without Betty…again.”

  “Maybe we should get you a bicycle?”

  “I’d rather walk, thank you very much.” I’m not the most coordinated person in the world. Me and bicycles go together like oil and water, as in, we don’t. The last time I tried to ride a bike, I ended up in hospital with a broken wrist and a concussion. I hit the back of a garbage truck and landed in it; like in the trash compartment back of a garbage truck. I’ve never been on a bike since, and I never will.

  “Ohh yes, the great bike crash of nineteen ninety-eight,” she teases.

  “Yes, that,” I sass back. Looking to Rusty, I smile sweetly, “Rusty, do you think you can drop me home?”

  “Of course,” he says,

  “And maybe stop via the liquor store and supermarket?”

  “Of course, but it will cost you a batch of brownies.”

  “Deal.”

  Rusty chauffeurs me around and when he drops me home, I promise to have a batch ready for him in the morning when he picks me up for work. Luckily for him, he also works at the school where I teach third grade, so it's not out of his way.

  I spend the rest of the evening baking Rusty his brownies and wishing I could stop thinking about how sexy Jesse looked in the afternoon sun earlier.

  4

  Jesse

  Mom drops me off and when I walk inside, I head straight to the fridge and grab a beer. I pop the cap and take a sip, sighing as the cool liquid coats my throat. Flopping down on the couch, I flick on Netflix, lie ba
ck, and watch an episode of Housewives of Beverly Hills; it’s my ‘I’ll take it to my grave’ secret guilty pleasure. The antics those women get up to amaze me, it really is addictive television. It also helps that they’re smokin hot, albeit a little crazy at times…reminding me of sexy crazy someone in town that I know.

  The episode ends and I head into the kitchen. Placing the empty in the recycling, I grab another beer and go into my office, I have a few things to catch up on and my delayed arrival home didn’t help. Nor did watching Housewives, but you get that.

  Sitting on my desk, I think over the afternoon. The fuckin’ brakes had been messing up the last few days but I didn’t think it was too serious, guess I thought wrong. Now, I’m up for an insurance deductible and wrath from Reese Turner. Of all people to run into, it had to be her. The conversation with Mom on the way home made it all the more awkward…

  * * *

  …“All I’m saying is she’s a lovely girl.”

  “Who hates me,” I mumble.

  “She doesn’t hate you, Jesse. A sweet girl like Reese couldn’t hate anything or anyone. But heed my words, Jesse, she’s the one.”

  “Yeah, and how so?”

  “Call it mother’s instinct. I think this little accident was just what you two needed to push you in the right direction.”

  “I think it's more likely to get me killed.”

  “Ohh pish posh, mark my word, by New Year’s Eve, you two will be an item.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that, Mom.” But as I say this, even I doubt myself.

  * * *

  …As Mom’s words die off, my mind drifts to how angry Reese was earlier. She’s a fiery little thing, that’s for sure, and I really do believe she’d kill me at the drop of a hat. I feel sorry for the sucker who ends up with her…and sorry, Mom, it won’t be me.

  Leaning back in my chair, I remember Mom also said I need to apologize with flowers ‘cause girls love flowers. I know Mom’s right. I do need to show her how sorry I am, even if it's just to make work life easier. Opening my MacBook, I log onto Flowers R Us and order Reese a “Sorry I Hit You” bouquet and me being me, I can’t help but make a dig with my gesture when I fill in the card part.

  I finish up some work and when I close down, I notice the flyer for the annual Christmas bake-off sitting on my desk. After winning at the fair, I feel like entering and it's not just to piss Reese off. I really think I have a chance BUT Reese makes the best rum balls around and those things deserve to win. The temptation is too hard to resist. I open my MacBook back up and enter myself and my snickerdoodles.

  It’s going to be so much fun competing against Short Stack, and winning; again.

  Game on, Reese Turner, game on.

  5

  Reese

  Walking into my classroom, I stop midstep when I see a vase of peonies on my desk, it’s a beautiful arrangement. With a smile on my face, I walk over and grab the card. My eyes pop open when I read the message.

  A small laugh breaks free. “I heard that,” a deep voice says from behind me. Spinning around I see Jesse standing in the doorway, he’s leaning against the frame, staring at me. He’s in dark chinos and a white short-sleeved button-down, his sunglasses hanging from the neck of his shirt. The muscles in his arms bulging from being crossed against his chest. Man, this guy is smokin’ hot.

  “You heard nothing,” I scoff in reply.

  “Nope,” he says, pushing off the doorframe he enters my classroom and walks over to me. “I definitely heard a laugh, Short Stack.”

  A growl breaks free at his nickname for me, but my eyes betray me and rake over him. The air in my classroom crackles and the temperature rises with each step he takes toward me. Looking up at him, I smile. “Thank you for the flowers.”

  “You’re welcome. I really am sorry and I’m glad no one was hurt.”

  “Just Betty’s ass,” I say.

  He rolls his eyes at me. “Yeah, Betty.”

  “I’m sorry that Johnny Jeep is in the shop.”

  “My Jeep, will be fine.”

  We fall silent; the only sound is the chatter and laugher of the kids on the playground. It’s not awkward like it usually is when it’s just the two of us, but the silence becomes deafening after a few moments. Thankfully the bell rings, interrupting whatever this was. “Have a good day, Ms. Turner,” Jesse says before turning around and exiting my classroom.

  “You too, Mr. Thornton,” I reply, as my eyes watch him and his sexy ass walk away from me.

  My students start entering the classroom and all thoughts of Jesse and his sexiness disappear and I focus on my kids.

  Throughout the day, my eyes keep drifting to the flowers and I find myself smiling and not so irritated with Jesse. While the kids finish up their art project, I sit back and my mind once again drifts to Jesse. He really isn’t that much of an asshole when I put everything into perspective, he’s just a jackass, a sexy as sin jackass. From what I’ve seen since he took over as principal, he really did deserve it over me. Also I can’t be mad about losing at the fair. It’s just a baking competition, losing that ribbon wasn’t the end of the world. And the accident with Betty and Johnny, was just that, an accident. It’s not like he ran up my ass on purpose. No one wants to pay higher insurance rates. Maybe it’s time I put it all aside and start being nice to him, what’s the worst the could happen? After all, it's easier to love than it is to hate. Not love-love but like-love, I don't love Jesse Thornton…and I never will.

  6

  Jesse

  A sort of truce has been called between Reese and me and over the last week, the dynamic between us has changed. She’s not as bitchy as she usually is and dare I say it, she’s actually nice to be around. My cell rings. Looking down, I see it’s the repair shop. Picking it up, I answer, “Hello, you got Jesse.”

  “Jesse, it's Darryl at D&K Auto Repairs.”

  “What can I do for you, Darryl?”

  “Just calling to let you know your Jeep is ready.”

  “That’s great. What about Betty?”

  “Who’s Betty?” he questions.

  “Reese’s Beetle,”

  “Ohh, Betty Beetle,” he laughs. “Yeah, it's ready too. I’m about to call Reese next.”

  “No bother,” I tell him, “she’s in class now so I’ll tell her at recess.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “See you later today.”

  The bell for recess rings and I make my way to the teachers’ lounge, when I walk in my eyes immediately gravitate toward Reese. She looks really pretty today. She’s wearing a pale blue dress with buttons down the front and a white cardigan over the top. Walking over to her, she looks up and smiles at me, genuinely smiles. It stops me in my tracks because she’s never looked at me like that before.

  “Reese, your car is ready,” I tell her as I pull out the seat next to her. She looks over to me and scrunches her eyes in confusion. “Darryl called to say mine was ready and I asked about Betty.”

  “Dude, you called my car Betty,” she teases me, poking me in the arm.

  “Whatever,” I scoff, “Did you want a lift or not?” My tone is harsher than I intended, causing her smile to deflate.

  “It’s fine,” she snaps. “I can get Rusty to drop me off since he’s been my chauffeur for the last week.”

  “It's no trouble. Really.” She stares at me. “I’m going there anyway.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, a lift would be lovely.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  “You sent me flowers, Jesse, which you didn’t need to do.”

  “It was my pleasure.” I smile and she returns it. Her smile lights up her face and I get the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss her. Thankfully, Rusty arrives and feeling to kiss her dissipates.

  “Hey, guys,” he says, as he sits down across from us. His eyes dart between Reese and me, with a quizzical look on his face. “You two look cozy.”

  That’s when I realize we’d leaned toward
one another. Not only was I about to kiss her, but I’d also invaded her personal space. What the fuck is wrong with me? More to the point, she was reciprocating my actions.

  We both pull away. “I was just telling Reese her car is ready.”

  “You need a lift after school?” Rusty asks her, biting into his sandwich.

  She shakes her head. “Jesse is going to get Johnny so I’ll grab a ride with him.”

  “You sure?” he questions her, his reaction shocks me.

  “Yep, I’m sure.”

  She closes the lid on her lunchbox, “I have a few things to catch up on. I’ll see you after school, Jesse, and, Rusty, I’ll see you tomorrow night at BB's.”

  Rusty salutes her and says, “Roger that.”

  I watch her walk out of the teachers’ lounge. My eyes dropping to her ass as she walks away.

  “What’s going on between you two?” Rusty says, my gaze turning to him.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Blind Freddy can see that the dynamic between you two has changed. For one, it looks like she no longer wants to smother you with a pillow and the biggest change of all, you eye fucking her as she walked away.”

  “Was not.”

  “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have snapped at me just now.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to say this once and once only, don’t hurt her. She’s been through enough, she doesn’t need anyone else jerking her around.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, not sure what he’s getting at.

  “You hurt her, and I’ll hurt you.”

  “I get that, but why the warning? What don’t I know?”