Carolina Christmas Kiss: A Vixens In Love Novella

by Bailey Peters

  I decided to blame my desire to nuzzle into Jessup on his cologne having exactly the effect the perfumer intended. That, and the heat that radiated off his skin. Norlina was a bitter cold that made the chill I’d experienced in Wilmington feel like nothing. The She Shed was heated, but I still had goosebumps. They were absolutely, positively not caused by my proximity to Jessup. Or at least that’s what I told myself. His deep voice and soulful gaze had completely lost their power on me.

  And yet, when he handed me a box and our hands touched, my pulse started racing.

  “I’m not going to wrap all of them for you because that won’t teach you anything. Take the other box and mimic what I’m doing.”

  He nodded, grabbing a box and settling in close to me on the floor. I neatly folded the leggings and pajamas while he tackled a small stack of t-shirts.

  It was when I started folding and cutting the butcher paper that his eyes left my face and focused on my hands like they were supposed to. I creased and taped, tucked and folded, until everything was all neat 90-degree angles and crisp lines, not a jagged edge in sight.

  “Your turn,” I said, sliding him the tape and scissors.

  His motions were slower than mine. More unsure. This is the first time I’d seen him fumble through something at which he wasn’t adept. He hadn’t been great with a pool stick, sure, but he’d at least been competent.

  When it came to arts and crafts, the more I focused solely on the task at hand, the worse my work seemed to get. I decided maybe it would be a little easier if he was also thinking about something else.

  “Does your family have any Christmas traditions you loved as a kid?”

  “Tons. Mom would always make breakfast casserole on Christmas morning. She loaded the eggs up with jalapenos, tabasco sauce, and spicy Italian sausage. I can’t remember a single year I didn’t wake up to that smell. This year might be the first, actually.”

  Before I could stop myself, my hand was rubbing his back to comfort him. This was the first holiday that either of us would spend without our mothers. Mine was alive at least, but I was also dreading the thought of padding into the kitchen first thing and not finding her in the usual place, slurping down coffee spiked with peppermint liqueur.

  “What about you?”

  “Sometime in early December, we’d get together to write a family Christmas letter to send to family and friends. For the most part, we were just trolling people, because it was pretty clear we were ragging on the letters you get where people are just using the holidays as an excuse to humble brag about their accomplishments. We’d highlight random things like the estimated number of hours we spent binging crappy teen dramas together on the couch or the number of times we’d dressed in our sweats to go to the gym but ended up driving to eat froyo instead. If you read it, you’d have never thought my parents had a successful business or that I was usually on the Dean’s list. It made us look like we were the ultimate slackers.”

  “Your parents seem like they’d be fun to hang out with. What was in your letter this year?”

  “We didn’t write it.”

  I grabbed for a smaller box that I could use to assemble the makeup and earrings we’d accumulated and started cutting paper the right size to cover the box in.

  “What about you and your friends from the Vixens? Do you do anything with them?”

  “Before we head our separate ways for Christmas, we’re planning a sleepover at Shania’s. We’ll do a gift exchange and bake our families Christmas cookies.”

  “Your recipe of choice?”

  “Haystacks. Mostly because there’s no real baking involved. I always burn everything else.” The last time the girls put me in charge of chocolate chip cookies, the bottoms had to be scraped off.

  I polished off the box, wishing momentarily I wasn’t opposed to wrapping things with ribbons and bows. The red butcher paper was festive but lacked a little something.

  A wave of tired washed over me. I looked at the mounds of blankets and pillows covering the floor.

  “After wrapping up the pullover, you’re all done. Is it okay if I lay down and close my eyes for just a moment? I couldn’t really sleep last night. It’s probably best if I rest for a minute or two before I hit the road.”

  Jessup nodded, continuing the work. I curled up in the corner across from him, pulling a velvet plush throw over me. After I closed my eyes, he began to hum Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow. It was my favorite Christmas song.

  I dreamt of George Bailey running through the snowy streets of Bedford Falls in black and white, trying to keep up with the angel that saved his life.

  * * *

  I woke to the feel of a chilling wind whipping at my face. Jessup was standing in the front door of the shed and looking out into the yard. The sky was already starting to get dark.

  I fumbled to find my phone in the sea of bedding. It was after 5:00 PM and It’s A Wonderful Life was rolling the credits. I’d been asleep for more than an hour. “Shit, shit, shit,” I said, scrambling to get up. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “You said you needed sleep. I listened.”

  I joined him at the door and realized why he’d been staring out into the woods around his house.

  It was snowing. Hard. Fat, wet flakes were clinging to every bit of available surface from the tree limbs to the ground, coating everything in a solid sheet of white. If I wasn’t a shit driver, it would have been magical. It’s funny how something can look peaceful but still throw your world into chaos.

  “With the blinds shut over the windows, I didn’t realize it was snowing until just now. I only opened the door because I was going to check in with my brother to see if he wanted help making dinner.”

  “I need to leave immediately if I’m going to make it back to Wilmington in this.”

  “It’s probably too late for that. In the dark, it’s going to be impossible to see the black ice.”

  I closed the door to keep the cold out.

  “Is there a hotel nearby?”

  “The nearest hotel is a county over and I wouldn’t recommend it. You’re welcome to stay here.”

  “In the She Shed?” I asked. Clearly, it had been sufficient if all I needed was shut eye. My nap had already proven that.

  “No. In the house. In a real bed.”

  “You have an extra bedroom?”

  As soon as I asked and his face fell, I realized my mistake. Of course there was an empty room. His mother’s.

  “Or maybe I could just sleep beside you?”

  And just like that, Jessup perked up again.

  If I’d seriously considered sleeping beside Reggie and it hadn’t meant anything, couldn’t the same thing be true for Jessup?

  18

  I piled the presents underneath the Christmas tree while Jody got a few things out of her car. Amy snuck up behind me almost immediately to shake them, listening for tell-tale signs of their contents.

  My sister still had the cherubic face of a little girl, topped off with dimples and a pug nose. It seemed impossible that she’d be starting high school in less than a year. Chasing boys. Thinking about where she’d apply to college. After taking up a sudden interest in horror movies, her newest obsession was researching how to do gore and monster makeup. I hadn’t the slightest idea what the training for that kind of career path would entail.

  “We’re going to have a guest over for dinner and to spend the night,” I said, peering out the window past our dated lace curtains. Jody was standing outside on her phone talking to someone. From where I was, I could tell her teeth were chattering. It was clear she was set on keeping her side of the conversation private if she was willing to stand in the cold when we had a perfectly good heater. She didn’t seem so convinced that my cafeteria eavesdropping had been accidental.

  “And which bed is she sleeping in?”

  “Mine.”

  “Mama wouldn’t approve.”

  Mama isn’t here. It took all of my self-control not to say
it.

  “You’re not married. At Thanksgiving, you didn’t even tell us there was someone you were dating.”

  “She’s just my friend. Mom might not like it, but she also wouldn’t want me sending her out into a storm like that. This time, well-being and safety are a little more important than the rules.”

  Her eyes bore into mine. “I’m going to write that one down in my journal and make sure to use it the next time I don’t feel like obeying you.”

  Lord, help me. My sweet kid sister was going to be hell on wheels, and I didn’t know the first thing about setting boundaries or how to carry out proper discipline.

  Jody pushed through the door, a small duffel bag flung over her shoulder.

  “Luckily, I always keep some clean clothes and extra toiletries in my bag for the nights I end up crashing at Shania’s.”

  “Or maybe you planned on shacking up with my brother,” Amy muttered, crossing her arms to drive home her disapproval.

  Jody let the comment roll right off of her. “Doubtful, friend. You must be Amy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’m Jody. I go to Coastal with your brother. If you wake up and I’m on your floor in the middle of the night, it’s because either he tosses and turns too much or he’s a snorer.”

  At that, Amy giggled. “I better get the floor ready for you, because he sounds like someone’s grandpa when he’s sleeping.”

  Amy did her best impression of me, flailing her arms about and making sounds that sounded more like a screaming, dying frog being stepped on than any kind of snoring.

  “Please excuse my sister. She’s been watching too many horror movies and seems to have confused me for one of her monsters.”

  Wanting to know what all the commotion was about, Randy rounded the corner from the kitchen with a dish towel flipped over his shoulder and a spatula in his hand. “I see we have company. Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  He reached out and shook Jody’s hand. I glared daggers, giving him my best don’t even think about it look. Between the two of us, he was easily the more handsome brother. I also knew very few women that didn’t have a weakness for a man in a uniform.

  “This is Jody. Jessup’s special friend that is staying the night with him.” Amy emphasized every syllable for extra emphasis.

  “In that case, I hope she likes chicken cacciatore, because that’s what we’re having.” Directing his gaze back to Jody, he remembered his manners. “I’m Randy. Charmed, I’m sure.”

  We trailed behind him into the kitchen and piled around the table. My siblings and I exchanged looks when Jody took mom’s place at the table but didn’t say anything.

  Randy ladled the chicken onto our plates, each bite covered in capers and fresh basil leaves.

  “Are you prepared to make me meals like this when Randy deploys?” Amy grilled me, popping a spare bit of bell pepper into her mouth. “You don’t want to be the brother responsible for me ending up malnourished or with scurvy.”

  “On the weekends, sure. We might be eating a lot of soup and sandwiches on weeknights, though,” I admitted. “If Randy has dishes you really like, maybe he can leave me the recipes?” I shot my brother a hopeful look.

  Randy snorted. “She’s playing you, dude. We eat stuff I bring home from the restaurant at least a couple of nights a week.”

  “If you’re going to eat barbeque all the time, at least it’s really good barbeque. The best I’ve ever had, if that counts for anything,” Jody chimed in, unfolding a napkin onto her lap.

  “Would you say it’s good enough to warrant another visit to Norlina?” I asked, giving her my most winning smile.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  * * *

  After dinner, I cleaned up the dishes so Randy could relax. Sensing her chance to steal Jody away, Amy asked Jody about her manicure skills.

  “One of my friends gave me a nail kit for the secret Santa exchange at school, but it’s too complicated for me to use by myself. I can paint my nails okay, but there are decals and glitter and all of these special tools…” she trailed off.

  “Something tells me your brothers are no help?” Jody teased.

  “Zilch. Zero. Nada.”

  “Then my services are at your disposal. Go get your tools and I’ll get the paper towels.”

  While Amy ran off into the explosion of pastel and boy band posters that was her bedroom, Jody covered the kitchen table with paper towels.

  “Thanks for your help. I didn’t realize it earlier, but you’re probably the first woman that’s been at the house since mom passed.”

  “Then I’ll make my time with her count.”

  I washed and dried the dishes slowly so that I could have an excuse to linger around.

  From her phone, Jody played a steady stream of music she correctly guessed my sister would like— lots of Taylor Swift and Jonas Brothers— while she buffed my sister’s nails and then filled them in with careful strokes of deep blue. While they worked, Amy did her best to mortify me at Jody’s request.

  “Tell me the most embarrassing stories about Jessup that you can think of.”

  “Well…” Amy said, looking at me with exaggerated glee. “A couple of years ago, he came back home for a basketball game the high school football coach put on as a fundraiser for the booster club. They had the high school team play against local business owners. Mom had Jessup represent our restaurant.”

  “Sounds like he should go into development. I’ve only known your brother for a couple of weeks, and I’ve seen him at fundraisers twice.”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “That’s how guys get the girls, right? The whole white knight thing? Saving communities and damsels in distress?”

  “Clearly, my sister is unimpressed with my penchant for philanthropy.”

  Amy shushed me before bringing a hand up to her mouth so she could blow on her nails, always one for a dramatic pause. “You two aren’t letting me get to the good part. There were thirty seconds left in the game and the score was tied. Our neighbor that runs the hardware store made the mistake of throwing Jessup the ball. He dribbled closer until he was right under the net where it should have been impossible for him to miss. When he went to dunk it, he miscalculated, and it flew off the rim. There was still enough time to recover the ball, but when he jumped to catch it, he missed. It flew out of bounds seconds before the buzzer sounded.”

  “That’s why mom should’a asked me instead,” Randy hollered from the living room. My brother was forever eavesdropping. I never knew he was paying attention at all until he interjected. Sneaky bastard.

  Jody gently pried snowflake decals from their glossy paper with a small set of tweezers and carefully applied them to Amy’s nails, careful not to smudge the polish she’d already applied.

  “Do you have any embarrassing stories about my brother?”

  Instead of telling my little sister that I hulked out at the slightest provocation, Jody extended me grace I didn’t deserve. “Not that I can think of. Enough of about Jessup, though. Tell me, do you have a special someone? Maybe a kid at school?”

  Amy blushed a deep red. “Ask me again when Jessup’s not in the room.”

  I filled our tea kettle with water and put it on the stove to boil. “I’m going to make you some hot chocolate and then get out of your hair. Once I’m gone, you can gossip all you want.”

  19

  I woke up with a stiff back and a crick in my neck. I’d ended up in the She Shed after all.

  When Amy found out I’d never seen Ten Things I Hate About You, she suggested a sleepover. I’d secretly been relieved not to have to sleep beside Jessup. If I was going to keep my resolve and steer clear of starting up a long-distance relationship with him, it was best not to let myself get too close. In a moment of weakness, I knew his dimples might do me in.

  There was that, and the fact that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been held as I drifted off to sleep. The thought of Jessup’s strong arms pulling my back t
o his chest, the top of my head tucked just under his chin, was a temptation I wasn’t sure I could resist.

  Amy clearly hadn’t been able to tell I was glad for an excuse not to cuddle up to her brother because she’d offered up access to her secret stash of candy to sweeten the deal.

  “Sure, you like him, but does he have Sour Patch Kids or Heath chocolate bars?” she’d asked, letting me peek into a crinkly paper bag stuffed to the brim with goodies. “Besides, I don’t snore.”

  I’d spent the night giggling with Amy, talking about how dreamy Heath Ledger was and making fun of the outfits the characters wore.

  Right when I thought she’d fallen asleep, her voice, drowsy and quiet, came from under the comforter she’d cocooned herself in.

  “He really likes you, you know.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “He’s never brought a girl to the house before. Ever. Or at least, not in the thirteen years I’ve been alive.”

  “Never ever?” I’d asked, sounding like I was Amy’s age.

  “Never ever. And he looks at you the way adults do when they’re in love.”

  “And what does that look like?”

  “Stupid.”

  I snorted with laughter into my sleeping bag, but still thought about what she’d said until my eyes went heavy with sleep. I couldn’t help but think she was onto something given the intensity that burned in his eyes when he looked at me.

  I checked my watch. It was 6:00 in the morning. Rice Barbeque didn’t open until 11:00, but I was sure there was plenty of prep work they had to busy themselves with before they’d be ready for customers. Something told me the brothers would probably be up.

  I tucked an extra blanket around Amy before I opened the front door to the She Shed, not wanting to wake her with the momentary invasion of cold.

  Out in the yard, my heart sank at what I saw— more snow. Luckily for me, someone had already shoveled out a makeshift path between the shed and the house. Otherwise, the door might not have opened at all. When I stood side-by-side with the area that wasn’t plowed, it went all the way up to my knees.