Hot for the Holidays (21 Holiday Short Stories): A Collection of Naughty and Nice Holiday Romances

by Anthology

  Pointing back and forth between them, I said, "Let me guess, newlyweds?" Yeah, they were older, but it was possible, especially given their touchy-feely behavior.

  The lady laughed out loud. "Hardly."

  "Try thirty-four years," said David, playing with a lock of her hair. "And five months."

  "Oh my, gosh. No way. That’s how long my parents have been married. Any kids?"

  They looked at each other and shrugged. "I think today we’re going to pretend we’re twenty-one, what do you say, Beth?"

  I chuckled. "I like you guys," I said, grabbing two tasting menus and placing them in front of David and Beth. "So do you two prefer whites or reds? Or we can do a combination?"

  David pushed his menu away. "None for me, thank you. I actually don’t drink." He glanced at his wife. "Beth? You like reds, right?"

  "Yeah, but I’ll do a combination," she said, perusing the menu. "I see you have a Gewurztraminer, and I’d loved to try that."

  "Sure thing."

  One of my favorite things about working the tasting room was for one, talking wine varieties, and two, meeting new people. I had a particular weakness for cute couples, and David and Beth were now taking the prize as the sweetest couple, even though they were probably my parents’ age. To be that in love after thirty-four years of marriage, it was definitely something I longed for. I was glad the tasting room wasn’t too crowded yet, because I was having fun chatting with them.

  I’d just poured Beth’s fourth taste, a 2013 Barbera, when Brett stepped into my space. He bent his face toward mine and whispered, "Those old ladies just gave me a $25 tip!"

  I gasped. "Say what?" I threw my hand on my hip. "What’d you do?"

  "I was just being myself," he said, wearing a cocky grin.

  Out of nowhere I felt my face flush. "I recommend you keep that up. It’s working for you, Brett." I reached over and pinched his cheek.

  "Thanks. Hey, I got to step out for sec, Lauren." He smiled at me, grabbed his phone, and went to the back room.

  Turning toward my favorite couple, I noticed Beth grinning at me as she swirled her wine.

  "Is he your boyfriend?" she asked suggestively, raising her eyebrows.

  I pointed my thumb toward the back door. "Brett?" I asked. "No, just a co-worker."

  "Could’ve fooled me, the way you were looking at each other," she said. "I could totally feel the chemistry."

  "Uh…" I said, stone-faced. Brett?

  "Beth, stop playing matchmaker," David said, shaking his head at her.

  She frowned. "I can’t help it. I like to see people happy."

  Chuckling, he met my dazed expression. "I’d better get her out of here before she has you off and married." He laid down his credit card and asked her, "What am I getting you, angel?"

  She went with the Barbera, and as I rang it up, I peeked over at Brett. He was entertaining his second group of senior women, probably trying to get another twenty-five dollar tip. If he was the same way with the younger set, surely he either had a girlfriend or was playing the field.

  And why does that bother me?

  I handed David his card and the wine. "Thanks for coming in. It was great talking to you. Merry Christmas."

  "Merry Christmas, and good luck," Beth said, winking at me and then looking Brett’s way.

  I laughed uncomfortably as they strolled out, his hand resting on the small of her back.

  "Great job on the sale, Lauren," Brett commented, giving me a thumbs up.

  "Did you see how cute that couple was? How they didn’t stop touching each other for a second?" I sighed, putting my hand to my chest.

  Inspired by their romantic gestures, I picked up a menu and started jotting down lines for my novel.

  "You know who that guy was, right?" Brett asked.

  "No, who?" I answered, not looking up from the paper.

  The sound of someone clearing his throat interrupted our conversation. Upon looking up, I had to practically hold on to the counter when my knees buckled. "Tom." I broke out into an embarrassingly huge smile, and I couldn’t keep from blushing fiercely.

  "Hey, Lauren. You always greet me with the best smile, doll." His voice was enough to make me melt into the floor. Smooth as velvet.

  "Thanks." I bowed my head down, unable to deal with the intensity of his sea blue eyes. It was almost too much.

  My gaze flitted over to Brett, who was staring at Tom with a look of annoyance. No, it was more like throwing daggers with his pupils. Crap.

  I quickly looked away and refocused my attention on Tom, who all of a sudden had a bimbo with long platinum hair hanging on his arm. The air was sucked out of me and just like that, my smile vanished.

  Steeling myself so I wouldn’t crumble, I went into business mode and asked, "What would you like to try today?"

  "Is there anything new on the menu? Any specials I should know about?"

  I went into my spiel—forgetting that he was the hottest guy on earth and I was madly in lust with him. After sharing a tasting with the doe-eyed blonde, he bought a few glasses of Chardonnay and took her to the chilly outdoor patio. Unable to face him cuddling up to her in the cold, I drew my eyes away.

  Becca scooted over to me. "Sorry, Sister. Seeing that probably doesn’t do much for your story, does it?"

  I grunted. "Yeah, I don’t remember a blond airhead showing up."

  Rubbing my shoulder, she said, "I didn’t want to say this earlier, but I’m afraid we have the wrong hair color." She looked out the window at the two of them. "I’ve never seen him with a brunette."

  "Yeah, I know I live in a fantasy world." I peered out the window at Tom and the girl, feeling my stomach crash.

  "At least you realize that," she said, giving me a pathetic I-feel-sorry-for-you look.

  Fingering my dark locks, my mind was whisked back to my junior high days, when I was so envious of all the fair haired beauties in my class that I begged my mom to let me bleach my hair. She wouldn’t hear of it.

  "You have such a lovely head of hair, dear. Don’t ruin your natural beauty," She’d said, running her hand down my long waves.

  I hated her for a long time after that. The guys I liked always seemed to go for the cute blondes. With the exception of Mark. He’d cheated on me with a redhead.

  Tired of feeling like a second class citizen, I was suddenly determined to prove my sister wrong. I made a vow to myself that if I happened to get Tom alone, I’d ask him to be my date for the holiday party.

  The only problem was, I wasn’t sure if I’d get that chance.

  The tasting room was unusually quiet. Over to my right, Brett was madly typing away on his phone, and my sister had disappeared to the back room. Inching my way to the back counter, I picked up an empty glass and discretely poured myself a half glass of wine.

  Knocking it back in one gulp, I heard Brett clear his throat behind me. "Are we taste-testing?"

  Feeling my face flush, I slowly turned around and held up my glass. "Liquid courage."

  Looking confused, he said, "For what?"

  I smiled hesitantly and shrugged my shoulders.

  "Well, I won’t tell anyone." He gifted me with a sly grin, one that showed off his cute dimples.

  My heart did something funny, but I quickly suppressed it. Now was not the time to have conflicting desires—not with the object of my obsession only yards away.

  Unfortunately, I stood there like a fool, preparing myself for something that would likely never happen. Annoyed, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and opened the Kindle app, diving into my latest trashy novel.

  "Hi again."

  My head shot up at the sound his voice. "You’re back." I quickly shoved my phone away.

  "I’m just returning the glasses," Tom clarified.

  "Oh, okay. Did you enjoy the Chardonnay?" I asked nervously, noticing the girl wasn’t with him. Peering out the window, I saw that she was still outside, bundled up in her coat.

  "Yes, thank you," said Tom, nodding.<
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  As he began walking away, the liquid courage took effect, and I heard myself say, "Tom?"

  He stopped in his tracks, flashing me his best smile. "Yes?"

  "Do you have a date for the holiday party?" I said it so fast and so softly I was sure I blew it.

  "Excuse me?"

  I shook my head. "Never mind."

  "Did you just ask if I had a date for the party next week?"

  Nodding, I stared at the ceiling to avoid his gaze.

  "No, I don’t. Would you like to be my date, Lauren?"

  Chapter Two

  I couldn’t believe it. I’d landed a date with the Man of Steel’s twin, and not just for any run-of-the-mill event, but for the one I’d been fantasizing about, the wine club party.

  There were just two problems. First, the fact that Tom kissed his lady friend on the cheek when he returned to her. That didn’t sit well with me. Was I destined to be just another notch on his belt?

  Second was the stony silence of my tasting room cohort, Brett. I knew he was watching the entire scene from his side of the bar, though he tried to disguise it by pretending to play with his phone. Don’t ask me how I knew this. I mean, I should’ve been completely focused on the dark haired stud asking me out, but I could sense Brett’s eyes on us, as well as his disapproval.

  I quickly came down from my high, now feeling a giant knot in my stomach. Nerves, I thought. After all, I’d been dreaming of this moment for months.

  Becca reappeared from the back, gasping when she saw my face. "Lauren, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost," she said.

  Thankfully, another couple were on their way in, diverting Brett’s attention.

  "I do?" I asked, lightly touching my cheek.

  "Yeah, normally you’re beet red whenever Tom’s around."

  I grinned. "Maybe it’s because I’m still in shock."

  Her eyes widened. "About what?" she asked stiffly.

  "Tom just asked me to the holiday party."

  "WHAT?" she practically screamed, gaining the attention of Brett and his customers.

  "Shh…" I pointed my finger to my lips.

  "Are you sure you didn’t just imagine that?" she asked skeptically.

  "Oh, come on, Becca. Give me a little credit."

  I told her exactly how it’d happened, and she shook her head. "All right, when are we going shopping? We need to get you a nice dress."

  "Well this certainly beats the ugly sweater I wore a few years ago." I stood in front of the full-length mirror and admired myself in my new deep green, silky, strapless cocktail dress.

  "Oh my, gosh. The ugly sweater year," said Becca. "That was a bad idea. I mean, I get the concept, but it just didn’t work for a nice wine club party. Mom’ll never live that one down."

  "Especially since she didn’t look any different than normal," I joked, fluffing my hair.

  Becca chuckled. "She’ll look nice tonight. I’ve seen her dress and given my stamp of approval."

  We were at our parents’ house getting for the big party, which was less than an hour away. I still lived at my parents’, adjacent to the winery, but Becca shared a condo closer to town with a roommate.

  I spun around, allowing the skirt of my dress to twirl. "You sure clean up well, Sister. That shade of blue is amazing on you."

  Becca was wearing a halter top style cocktail dress in royal blue. "Thank you," she said, doing a curtsy. My nightstand clock was in her line of vision and she popped up. "Oh, Paul should be here any minute. Are you about ready?"

  I drew in a deep breath. "I think so." Attempting to shove aside my jitters, I asked, "So you and Paul? Anything going on there?"

  She gave a quick shake of her head. "No. He’s just a friend." Paul was the speech therapist that worked with her school district, and he also happened to be in our wine club.

  "Oh, good. I thought maybe you were interested in Brett." I waggled my eyebrows.

  She looked taken aback. "Brett?"

  "Yeah, you’re always flirting with him and stuff. Why not?"

  Becca opened her mouth to say something, then quickly shut it. She looked like she was hiding something. "For many reasons. For one, I’m pretty sure he’s not interested in me."

  "Oh? He’s got an eye for someone else?" That knot in my stomach came back, alarming me. What is it with me lately?

  She shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno. I think he plays the field a little."

  My mood crashed—which was crazy since I should’ve been on top of the world.

  "Becca, do I look all right?" I asked, a wave of insecurity flowing through me.

  "Lauren, you look stunning. Well, for my snot-nosed little sister," she said, grinning.

  "Oh, shut up! Let’s just go." Unfortunately the heaviness inside me remained.

  I slowly followed her down the sweeping wood staircase in my new high heels. Being a farm girl, I was usually seen in my jeans and boots during winter time, so whenever I dressed up, I became fearful of messing up my dress or losing my footing. Becca seemed to rock the heels a little better, because she’d always been a more "girly" girl.

  "What’re you waiting for?" She called up from the bottom of the stairs.

  When I finally caught up with her, a shiver ran through me, and I grabbed her arm. "Becca, what if he doesn’t show?"

  "Wow, you are insecure. What would make you think that?"

  "I don’t know. He just seems…out of my league, you know?"

  "He’s not out of your league, just in a different one."

  I thought I heard her mumbling something under her breath, but maybe it was my crazy imagination.

  Our shoes made crunching sounds as we walked along the gravelly road from the house to the brightly lit tasting room. I could already hear the music blaring from inside.

  Becca began humming along to "Jingle Bell Rock" as sung by the Glee cast.

  "Oh, Mom has her playlist together. Expect a lot of Glee songs," I said.

  "Of course," Becca agreed. Mom was a big fan of the show, and she was always making playlists of Glee songs. It was too funny, especially since it was a teeny-bopper show.

  Hanging about the entrance to the tasting room was a tall, lean figure. My heart skipped a beat, and then Becca said, "Oh, there’s Paul."

  Crushed, I followed her as she walked over to him. He was a nice looking guy, early thirties, with short and spiky blond hair. He wore a dark suit with a festive red and green striped tie.

  "Nice tie, Paul," Becca said, as she gave him a casual one-armed hug.

  Paul tugged on the tie. "Why thank you. You ladies look gorgeous. "

  We thanked him as he held the door open for us. The spicy scent of cinnamon wafted through the air, and I noticed the wine bar was lined with red candles. Mom was at the food table, helping the caterers set out appetizers, while Dad stood behind the bar, visiting with a few early arrivals. Joey, decked out in a suit and tie, was fiddling with the phone which was plugged into the sound system. Most likely he was going through the playlist, making adjustments.

  His date, Brenda—another part-timer in our tasting room—was perusing the area, making sure all the decorations were in place. We’d set up a few tall round tables where people could set down their plates and glasses. One section of the room was cleared out for dancing. I stared at the floor, picturing myself in Tom’s arms and swaying around in the dimly lit room.

  Where is Tom? I opened my wrist bag and checked the time on my phone. He was supposed to be here five minutes ago. Shit.

  Leaning toward Becca, I said in a low voice, "I’m going to check the parking lot for Tom’s car."

  She raised her eyebrows at me. "Don’t seem so eager, Lauren. Give it a few more minutes."

  I took in a deep breath and walked stiffly to the counter.

  "Hey, sweetie. You look nice!" Dad said. "Where’s your date?"

  My stomach clenched. "Good question." I glanced out the window at the parking lot, where a myriad of headlights could be seen.
>
  "You want a glass of something, to ease the nerves?" Before I could answer, he grabbed a glass and set it in front of me. "Merlot?"

  "Yeah, perfect. Just half full, please."

  "Sure thing, daughter of mine." He took an open bottle of 2012 Merlot and filled my glass to the halfway point. "Don’t worry, he’ll be here. And, I’ll be watching to make sure he doesn’t get too handsy with you."

  I groaned. "Oh, Dad."I could only hope.

  Five minutes passed, and then ten. After twelve minutes of watching people arrive, I stepped away from Becca and Paul to head outside. Leaving behind the chatter of people, clinking glasses, and jazzy holiday tunes, I strolled out to the parking lot. There was a bite in the air, and with my free hand I tightly clutched the wrap around my shoulders.

  Cars were still arriving, but none of them were a red Porsche. My mind was scrambling, wondering why he wasn’t here. To ease my nerves, I took a big swallow of Merlot, nearly choking when it went down the wrong pipe.

  "Hi Lauren, You okay?" asked one of our regulars, as she and her husband came in from the parking lot.

  "Yeah," I spluttered, patting my throat. "It just went down funny."

  "All right, we’ll see you in there. You should get inside, it’s cold!" she said, making a shivering motion.

  I nodded, wearing a big plastic smile. Once they were gone, I erased the smile and fetched my phone to check the time again.

  Oh my, gosh. Twenty-five minutes!

  "That’s it. He’s not coming," I muttered to myself, stiffening up as a cold breeze hit me.

  Mortified by my situation, I was tempted to crawl home, throw on sweats, and pig out on junk food. But then my family would wonder where I went, and it was wrong of me to abandon them tonight. Plus, maybe I was jumping to conclusions and Tom would come after all.

  Maybe something happened to him?

  Not taking my eyes off the parking lot, I backed up and fell into one of the outdoor chairs, gasping at the freezing seat. Placing my glass on the table, I burrowed under my wrap, trying to keep from becoming numb with the cold.

  Part of me was worried, thinking perhaps he’d been in an accident. Another part of me figured he was just running late. Siding with the latter, I snatched my compact from the clutch and checked my face and hair. I had to look perfect for him, because he was perfect.