A Snowflake Wish

by Renee Harless

  It was quiet as silent snow fell around her porch. January took it all in. She wondered if she’d miss Christmas next year, or if she would continue to celebrate it despite her mistake. She just didn’t know.

  Looking up at the sky, a break opened between the clouds filling the black canvas with stars and an idyllic crescent moon.

  “Oh, what a mess I’ve made,” she whispered to the open air as she leaned against the railing of her porch. “It seems silly to make a wish in hopes that it all goes back to the way it was. I’m not even sure it would be possible. Heck, I don’t know how any of this is possible.” January shook her head in exasperation. Focusing on the brightest star amidst the darkness, January sighed deeply, the crisp air stinging her lungs with the inhale. “I really wish that there was a way to fix this.”

  Just as she finished her wish, the remarkable sight of a shooting star soaring high in the sky caught her attention.

  “Very funny. I already made a wish on a snowflake, I’m not about to make a wish on a star.”

  Remembering the day that lay ahead, January went back inside her house and started making a list of the ingredients she would need for the gingerbread houses. Her cupboards weren’t stocked with what she needed. Looked like a run by the market in the morning was in order.

  But as she lay in bed softly snuggling with her duvet, January was worried that she’d wake, and everything would be changed again.

  “That’s what you get for making silly wishes,” she murmured to herself an hour later just as her eyes grew finally heavy.

  Chapter Six

  It was when she walked past her third booth selling solstice displays that January knew she had made a mistake. Everywhere she looked groups of people gathered around discussing the celebration the next day at the Pineville Winter Solstice Festival.

  All January wanted to do was grab the fresh items she needed and make her way back home, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen. She had no less than twelve different people already stopped her to chat and ask if she was going to be at the festival that she had absolutely no idea about.

  Just when January was about to give up, she spied the back of someone she was getting to know all too well. Deckard stood at a booth holding a green bag in one of his hands while the other was hanging loosely at his side. But what caught her eye was the beautiful woman that was speaking with him animatedly. Whatever she was telling him had Deckard’s rapt attention. There was a familiar air around them. January couldn’t even deny that the first emotion that flitted through her veins was jealousy. It was callous and naive, but she felt it none-the-less. And though January knew that she had no claim on Deckard, she had hoped that they were on the same page.

  The couple was only a few feet away, but Deckard hadn’t turned around to spot her yet. She turned on her heels and decided that she would rather stop by the grocery store instead of having fresh ingredients than having to face one more second of Deckard and this woman together.

  “January!” Her name was shouted above the crowd and January’s attention turned to her best friend waving and pushing through the crowd. From the corner of her eye, she saw Deckard turn around as her name was called. He had a deer caught in the headlights expression as if he never imagined to find January there.

  “Hi, Samantha,” January said, faking cheerfulness as Samantha made it to where she stood.

  “I didn’t expect you to be here. Celebrating isn’t really your thing.”

  “Yeah, it’s not. I came for some fresh ingredients, but I seem to be out of luck,” January pointed out as she held up her extensive shopping list and empty hands.

  “Well, I wouldn’t quite say that.” Samantha grinned coyly as she nodded her head in Deckard’s direction. Even without Samantha’s not-so-subtle gesture, she could feel Deckard’s eyes on her as he approached.

  “I would. He was looking very familiar with the beautiful blonde over there,” January hissed, hating the sound of jealousy spewing from her.

  “Oh, her -” Samantha began but was interrupted by Deckard as he came to a stop beside January. “Hello, ladies.”

  They both replied in greeting and then an awkward silence fell around them until it was too much for Samantha.

  “Well, I was just going to see if you wanted to get lunch, but I am certain that you two will have plans.” Her friend scooted away eagerly, something January wished that she could do as well. “Call me later!” Samantha yelled over the crowd as she disappeared back into the masses.

  January didn’t know what had overcome her, but instead of turning around to look at Deckard, she made the childish decision to turn around and began walking away.

  “Hey! January.” Unfortunately, her plan was thwarted as Deckard took a few long strides to catch up with her. “What’s going on with you?” he asked. January knew, that as a man, Deckard had no idea what he had done wrong, or that he asked the wrong kind of question.

  “What’s going on with me?” she sneered, feeling virtual fangs lengthen down from her canines as if she was readying for attack.

  “Whoa, whoa. I have no idea what caused you to act like this, but please take a second to calm down.”

  January stared at him as if he grew two heads. Two ugly sinister head with green ooze and warts. Luckily for Deckard the mystery woman that was causing the green-eyed monster to free herself from January’s subconscious joined their meeting, making them a trio.

  “Deckard,” the woman purred with her sultry voice and even January couldn’t hide the shivers it created. “Is this the woman you were telling me about?” January’s eyes immediately narrowed at the man that had barged into her life while she waited for his reply.

  To January’s horror, Deckard wrapped his arm around the woman and smiled down at her before looking back at January with that smirk that had previously brought her to her knees. Right now, she was regretting every moment she let him hold her close.

  “Yes, it is, Whitney. This is January. January, this is -”

  “Nope.” January butted into the conversation with a hand saucily placed on her hip. “I’m leaving. I’m sure your. . .friend, Whitney, can explain it to you. Thanks for wasting my time.”

  With her back now turned and the crowd filling in the space between them, January barely made out the sound of Deckard asking his far-too-beautiful companion what he had done wrong. She passed a hot chocolate stand, wishing that she had the time to stop and grab a cup of the frothy goodness, but in her anger, January stomped by without a backward glance – until she ran smack dab into a wall of muscle.

  “Oomph,” she groaned as she rubbed the tip of her nose to ease it from the pain of the muscled mass collision.

  “January.” Deckard’s voice was a strange mix of urgency and terror that put January on high alert. She had never heard anyone sound so anguished before and it made her look up and pause.

  “January, I swear I didn’t do whatever you think it is that I was doing. Whitney is my dental hygienist,” at January’s uncontrollable growl Deckard added, “And my cousin.”

  Hollowly, January replied, “Your cousin?”

  “Yes, cousins. Whitney and I grew up together. We’re more like siblings. She came to see our grandparents for the solstice.”

  Completely embarrassed, January turned both her body and her face away from Deckard as she aimed her attention to the gravel beneath her feet. She didn’t know what to do. Apologize, for sure, but she hadn’t done something on this level since high school. Groveling sincerely didn’t come naturally to January

  “Deckard, I. . .” She was speechless. There wasn’t an apology big enough to encompass the jealousy she had felt and how she had lashed out at him – grouping him into all of the boyfriends of the past.

  “Hey, I get it,” he reached out and gripped her hand with his free one. “I didn’t know she was coming in town this weekend or I would have mentioned it.”

  Holding up her hand, January explained, “No. No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’
t have assumed what I did.”

  “I can’t blame you. I would have done the same for someone I cared about.”

  “I’m sorry, Deckard. I’m just going to head to the store and finish my shopping.” January fumbled through her words trying to back out of this conversation as gracefully as possible.

  “No way. What do you have on that list? I can help you grab some things.”

  “Shouldn’t you spend time with your family?” Deckard lightly grabbed her elbow and steered her toward the back corner of the marketplace.

  “Nah, I see them enough and we’ll be with them tomorrow, remember? I’d rather spend more time with you.” He smiled down at her and January felt herself swoon with each step.

  They reached the first destination and grabbed jarred spices from her ingredient list. “So, I’m sorry that I assumed the worst.”

  “Stop, January.”

  His command halted her and she looked up at the handsome man holding a root of ginger in his hand.

  “I just feel bad, that’s all.”

  “I know, and I get it. So stop apologizing. Now, let’s get your ingredients, I’m ready to try these gingerbread houses.”

  With a small smile, January lifted another ginger root and reached for a jar of cloves. “Make, not eat.”

  “Wait, we don’t get to eat them? What kind of establishment are you running?” In feigned horror, Deckard’s eyes widened and mouth hung agape, which only caused January to giggle.

  “You eat them on Christmas day. Or at least that’s what we did. But we can also make some gingerbread cookies and decorate those.”

  “See, I knew you’d come up with something for me and my stomach. I’m a growing boy.” He patted his flat stomach and January wished that she could slip her hand under his sweater and feel the taut muscles beneath. Because she knew without a doubt that Deckard didn’t have an ounce of fat on his delectable body.

  Leaning toward her, Deckard’s lips just grace the edge of her ear. “Your cheeks are turning pink. What are you thinking about?”

  Immediately she quipped, “Nothing.”

  “Little liar. Don’t worry, I’ll get it out of you later.”

  In silence, they finished loading her bag with molasses, brown sugar, and the spices they had already collected. One of the stands had a display of candies that both January and Deckard’s mouths salivated over.

  “I bet you’re ready to admonish me right now for all this sugar, aren’t you, Doctor?” January teased as she flung one of the sugar-coated gummy balls into her mouth.

  “If you were my patient, I would scold you for more than your sugar intake. But it’s okay to let yourself indulge in something delectable every now and then.” January wasn’t positive, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Deckard was referring to more than just the candies presented to them. He only added to her confusion as he grabbed a handful of chocolate candies and shoved them into his mouth.

  She expected when he smiled that his mouth would ooze with chocolate froth. But not Deckard – she should have known better. When he smiled, his perfectly straight white teeth glistened as if they weren’t holding back a mound of goodness behind them.

  The woman selling the candies handed January a cup of coffee that she ordered.

  “I hate you sometimes, you know?”

  “Why?” he asked as he reached for her cup of coffee to take a sip. Usually, January didn’t like to share her beverages, but she figured since she wanted to do intimate things with Deckard they could probably share a drink.

  “Because you’re like. . .perfect. You look like a freaking dark-haired Thor, you’re obviously smart, and you can make me laugh – which is a hard feat in itself. Believe me, that makes you quite the perfect catch. Why do you even want to hang out with me?”

  As he handed her back the cup of coffee, Deckard asked, “Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you? You’re obviously beautiful, and smart, and I like making you laugh – it may be my favorite sound. And, January, you should know that I want to do much more than just hang out with you.”

  She felt the Styrofoam cup slip from her fingers, but she could do little to stop it as the cup tilted back and spilled the hot liquid all down her favorite ivory blouse. She instantly pulled her ruined silk shirt away from her chest, wishing that she had kept her jacket closed instead of leaving it unzipped.

  Deckard rushed to help her, but the damage was done. “January, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just a clumsy mess.”

  Deckard grabbed her bag and tossed the coffee cup into the trashcan nearby before ushering her away from the crowd that was growing around them, watching in rapt interest. “Come on, let’s get you out of that shirt before you catch a cold.”

  “Can’t catch a cold from a wet shirt in the winter,” she added smartly as she followed his brisk steps toward the parking lot.

  “No, but you can catch hypothermia,” he replied in a voice that sounded both concerned and angry. His stance was stiff as he rushed them through the crowd, his steps were quick and powerful.

  Finally, they reached her car and he immediately reached into her purse to grab her keys, unlocked her doors, and started her car. She imagined that he was turning the heat on full blast.

  “Get in and take off your shirt.” Deckard didn’t just ask, he commanded.

  “Excuse me?” she asked in horror.

  “You need to get out of the wet shirt and we need to see if you have any burns. Take it off and zip up your coat. I’ll make sure no one is looking.”

  “Yes. . .well. . .you’re looking.”

  One of his dark brows raised in defiance and January knew that it was going to be a battle she lost if she fought against his demand.

  “Fine,” she growled, stomping over to where he stood by her open driver’s side door. January glared up at him and boldly slipped her arms out of her coat and handed it over Deckard to hold. Without moving her gaze away from his eyes, she quickly maneuvered each and every button of her blouse, yanking it free of her jeans with an earnest tug, and then pulled it free of her body with ease she didn’t feel.

  January didn’t care if anyone saw her, it’s not like she was naked, but as a brisk wind picked up while she was standing in her bra, her nipples puckered behind the confines of the nude lace from the chill. She could see that Deckard was doing his best not to look down at her chest, attempting to be the gentleman that he was, but his perseverance was wearing thin.

  He held out a shaking hand with her coat when she asked, “I don’t think I have any burns. May I have my jacket, please?”

  Even though January knew that he was trying to keep her from getting sick, she felt a small sense of pride that she was able to affect him in a similar way that he affected her.

  Jacket in place, she zipped the material completely, the top of the coat reaching just under her nose. “Better?” she asked, the sound muffled by the shield.

  “Not even close,” Deckard replied as he tugged down the zipper a tad so that he could see the remainder of her face. “There, now I can see you. Go get warm. I’ll be right behind you.” He placed a kiss on her lips but gave her little time to react as he spun around on his heels and headed toward his own vehicle.

  She hoped that he remembered her parents were going to join them tonight to help make the gingerbread houses because with the way he just left her, he had a completely different itinerary on his mind.

  ~

  The kitchen was a mess. Counters and cabinets were covered in dough and sugar due to an unfortunate incident between Deckard and her hand mixer. But they had been laughing so hard the entire time, she almost forgot to grab the baking sheet from the oven in time.

  Together they cut out the individual patterns for the sides and roof of the houses and placed all the different candies and decorations in bowls. Deckard’s eyes widened in delight as January brought out a new set of ingredients from her fridge.

  “What else are we making?” he asked adorably with flour sme
ared across his cheek. She touched his face to wipe it away, but her hand lingered there for a beat longer than was necessary.

  “Sorry, you have something right here,” she tried to explain, but her voice was soft and breathy. January felt the air around them shift. Her body began to feel warm all over. Deckard extended an arm and rested his hand on her hip, his fist gathering the material of her red sweater in its grasp.

  January’s thumb stroked back and forth just above the scruff on his cheek as his thumb did the same on the exposed skin of her hip. They didn’t speak, but January could feel the anticipation building until the barrier between them shattered.

  With a yank he pulled her toward him at the same time that she had begun to slide her hand toward the back of his head. Their kiss was hot, frantic, and uncontrollable. Neither fought for dominance, their mouths and tongues brushed and licked with familiarity.

  Deckard moved them so that January’s back was pressed against the island and she felt the bulge in his jeans press against her stomach. She yearned to feel it between her legs.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  Using his muscled arms, Deckard lifted her effortlessly onto the island counter, neither of them caring about the mess they were making as they pushed the ingredients aside. Leftover flour now coated her pants and his hands. With his arms on either side of her legs, he caged her in and stepped between her legs pressing his impressive length against her center. January moaned uncontrollably as Deckard rocked his hips against her.

  January knew that she had gone a long while without an orgasm, but she never imagined that the friction from Deckard’s jean-covered erection would bring her to her release so quickly.

  “Oh, fuck,” she as her muscles began to tense. But then Deckard took a step back, leaving her in all of her aching glory.