Holiday Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories

by Scott, Lisa

  He stuck his head out the door and quickly closed it. He pretended to shiver. “It’s horrible out. We might be stuck inside all day. Luckily, I made some hot chocolate.” He pointed to the coffee table and two steaming mugs, with marshmallows bobbing on top.

  The lump in my throat left me speechless. This was totally unexpected. Much like the way we’d met.

  “It’s the perfect snowy day to decorate our tree,” he said. A real Christmas tree was now mounted in the stand, and Ryan had pulled out the rest of our ornaments. He flicked on some Christmas carols. The familiar sounds of the Nutcracker Suite filled the room.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of pine. My throat was tight and the words couldn’t find my lips. I dropped my head in my hands and started to cry.

  He rushed next to me and squeezed my shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey. Don’t cry. I thought you’d like this.” He rubbed my back and I leaned against him, unable to say anything. How could I explain all the emotions swirling inside me? The sadness over moving from home, the fear of this strange new place, and maybe even fear over the commitment of moving in together. Did I really want to leave him?

  “I know it’s not New York, but we can pretend it’s just like home.”

  I sniffed and nodded. “I like it. I really do.”

  A relieved smile appeared. “Wanna hit the beach and make a sandman?”

  I gave him a funny look, but broke out in giggles. “Are you sure we can get to the beach with all this snow?”

  He readjusted his scarf. “We’ll give it try.”

  We brought our hot chocolate along, and he pulled me outside. Big plastic candy canes lined our sidewalk. An inflatable Santa in a sled sat perched in front of the house. The gutters were lined with white icicle lights. I turned to him. “Did you stay up all night doing this?”

  He shrugged. “Pretty much. After the grocery store, I hit Save Land. I was the last customer out.”

  Edna came out of her front door and came into our yard. “Finally, some decorations. Looks great!” She handed me a package wrapped in tinfoil with a red bow on top. “Merry Christmas! They still talk about my fruitcake back in Michigan, you know.”

  “Thanks so much! I should’ve made some cookies, but I’ve been…”

  She waved her hand. “You’ve been busy settling in. It’s not always easy, you know. But next year I’ll be looking for some cookies from you.” She winked at me, and went back to her house.

  I handed the fruitcake to Ryan. “You carry this—it’s heavy.”

  We made the quick ride to the beach. Grabbing our mugs, the fruitcake, and a blanket, we settled on the sand.

  “This is a first. Drinking hot chocolate on the beach.”

  He put his arm around me. “There’s a lot of firsts for us here, Ginny. I promise to make more time for you. And next time you get homesick, I’ll make sure to really listen.” He kissed my hand and I leaned into him. He really wanted me to stay.

  We opened the fruitcake, took a quick sample, and decided it would make a nice treat for the seagulls. They swooped around us as we tossed bits and pieces up into the air. Ryan and I laughed as the birds squawked at each other and fought over the crumbs.

  “Now what about that sandman?” Ryan asked. He balled up a mound of sand, making it bigger and bigger, then tried to add a second tier. Our hands and legs were dirty and sandy, but we giggled with each attempt as clumps of sand spilled to the ground.

  Finally we decided you couldn’t make a snowman out of sand. Ryan shrugged. “We tried.”

  “But there are other fun things to do at the beach.” I grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at Ryan.

  He ducked out of the way. “What was that for?” he asked, as the spray of sand flew past him.

  “It’s a Florida snowball. Or it was supposed to be.” I scooped up another handful and tossed it at him again.

  Pretending to be hit, Ryan fell back on the ground. Then he swooshed his arms and legs in the sand, leaving the imprint of an angel. This buff, six-foot-two guy was acting like a total kid, and it only made me crazier about him.

  “You need to work on your technique. Learn from a pro.” I flopped down next to him and made one of my own. Ryan rolled over next to me and took me in his arms, kissing me gently. “Couldn’t do this at home, kissing outside like this. We’d be freezing our tails off.”

  I sighed as he held me. “That’s true.”

  “And I see a lot more of your gorgeous body down here, now that it’s not all covered up in sweaters and coats.” He kissed me again. “And that makes me want to do more of this.” He slid his hand up under my shirt, trailing his fingertips along my spine.

  I shivered. “So there are a few benefits, I guess.”

  Aware that the few people on the beach were starting to stare, I whispered, “Let’s go home.” Home, I said to myself again. Could this really be my home?

  We held hands on the ride back. “I’ve got an early present for you,” he said.

  “Now you’re talking my language.”

  We went inside and he reached for a pastry box on top of the refrigerator and handed it to me. Our fingers brushed, and I got another rush of shivers; he still had that effect on me.

  “What is this?” I pulled the red ribbon off the box. Inside, was a gingerbread woman, with long strands of yellow frosting piped along her face for the hair. She also sported a red bikini, just like mine, and a Santa hat. I looked up at Ryan. “That’s me!” Next to my cookie was one that looked like Ryan.

  He nodded. “They’re probably not as good as the ones you make, but I knew they were important to you. And the bakery had a sign in the window that they were looking for a pastry chef.” He raised one eyebrow.

  “Really?” My heart raced at the idea. I felt a glimmer of excitement I hadn’t felt since we’d left Rochester.

  He nodded, then checked his watch. “Do you want to check your flight status?”

  Was I really going to leave this funny, charming man? He hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t insisted I move here with him. I came because I wanted to be with him. And I was bailing the moment it got difficult? What kind of girlfriend was I? I didn’t deserve him. I shook my head. “Not now.”

  He nodded and smiled. “Good. I thought we could go out pick out some new ornaments later, something to remind us of our new life down here,” he said. “Our new adventure together.”

  “You’re something else.” And he was. I could find a home anywhere; a wonderful man like Ryan was irreplaceable. How had I been so stupid not to realize it? Here I’d threatened to leave him, and he’d been patient and understanding. Most guys would’ve blown a gasket. Men like Ryan didn’t come around often.

  Ryan grabbed my hand and brought me to the tree. We hung the ornaments we did have and tossed tinsel at each other. We ended up on the floor laughing, then kissing—like one of those crazy-in-love kisses when you first start dating.

  Then he planted a smooch on my forehead. “I know you gave up a lot to come with me. But it doesn’t matter where we are, as long as we’re together,” he said, holding me.

  I closed my eyes and snuggled against him. “You’re right. You’re my home, wherever we are. And we need to start some new traditions here.”

  “Like our annual Florida blizzard?” he asked.

  “Exactly. Now help me get that Christmas village out and then we’ll make cookies.” I stood up and held out my hand to pull him up.

  “More gingerbread men?”

  I stopped and thought. “No, this year we’ll try something new. Cut-outs with a little orange flavoring. In honor of our new beginning and all.” Something to show we really were home now. Something I’d miss if we happened to move again.

  I knew then that I’d follow Ryan anywhere. My angst and longing for home disappeared. And that was a wonderful gift for us both.

  “I really want you to stay, but what about that plane ticket? I understand if you still want to go home for the holidays. I’ll drive you
to the airport when the weather clears. You could get there in time for Christmas and come back in a few days.”

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t want to miss our first Christmas together. I’ll save my trip home for after the holidays.”

  His smile hit me square in the heart. “You sure?”

  I couldn’t hold back my grin. “I finally realized I’m right where I want to be—with you.”

  His eyes twinkled like jolly old St. Nick himself—minus the beard and belly. “In that case, maybe I can give you one more Christmas present early.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Even better than the cookies?”

  “Just a little bit.” He got down on one knee and grabbed my hands in his. “Ginny, I should have made this commitment before I brought you down here. But with the cost of the house and moving, I had to wait to get this. Luckily, I’ve been putting in some overtime.” He winked and then pulled a sparkling ring from his pocket. “Will you marry me?”

  I dropped to my knees beside him and wrapped my arms around him. “Yes,” I finally managed to say. I sobbed in his arms for a few minutes and stared at the ring on my finger to convince myself it was actually there. I wiggled my fingers to make it sparkle in the light.

  “Do you like it? I was going to save it until Christmas, but this seemed like a good time.”

  “I love it.” The words came out in a whisper and I cleared my throat. “Do you want your Christmas present now?” I asked. New running gear would pale in comparison, but still.

  He grinned, and scooped me up in his arms. “I’ve got what I want right here.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Then take your present to the bedroom and unwrap it, fool.”

  “Now there’s the Ginny I remember. Guess I can shovel the driveway later.”

  I playfully whacked him as he carried me down the hall to our future.

  “Tingle All The Way”

  by Lisa Scott

  By the time Jessica finished watching Love, Actually, and cleaned up the popcorn bowl and hot chocolate, it was 11:50 on Christmas Eve. She looked at the hands on the clock nearing midnight. “Big whoop, it’s almost Christmas,” she said to her cat snoozing on the couch. Snickers opened one eye and rolled over.

  Unfortunately, the movie had done nothing to put her in the holiday mood. Not even the big snowstorm that had covered Rochester in a blanket of white had gotten her in the proper spirit. Nothing could.

  The holidays weren’t her thing. She wasn’t like her sister, Lindy, who tossed imaginary glitter and sparkles wherever she went during the holidays, convinced every Christmas could be a magical, marvelous miracle in the making. Blech. And this year had been a magnificent holiday for Lindy. She’d landed a new job and a great guy, while Jessica still watched sappy movies all by herself without shedding a tear. That’s how much of an icicle queen she was.

  It didn’t help that she lived in her childhood home, and her disappointing Christmas memories could be relived by staring into the living room. She didn’t necessarily dislike the holidays; she was just immune to them. Kind of like being colorblind, she supposed. Who knew what blue really looked like if you’d never seen it? Well, she’d never felt the giddiness so many people experienced this time of year. She was holiday blind. Yeah, that was it.

  She hadn’t bothered with a Christmas tree. And mistletoe? What’s the use? There’d be no impromptu kissing here. You couldn’t really do that without a guy around and it had been a while since one had come calling.

  She checked the lock on the front door and flicked off the lights but then something caught her eye outside. Was someone breaking into her neighbor’s house?

  She knelt in front of the living room window, resting her chin on the sill. Her quick breaths left puffs of steam on the glass; the pane was cold against her nose.

  She squinted at the figure climbing a ladder propped up against the house. It was a man, Jessica was sure of it. She knew her neighbor Sally didn’t have a boyfriend, and her husband had left her a few months ago. So who was this guy? Sally’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but someone else’s was. Her heart quickened.

  She wasn’t going to watch her neighbor get robbed blind. She dashed for the phone and called 911.

  “911 what’s your emergency?”

  “Someone’s breaking into my neighbor’s house. Looks like a guy on a ladder is trying to crawl through a window. Hurry!”

  Jessica gave them the address and decided to put on some clothes Surely, they’d want a statement from the woman who’d stopped a holiday robbery, and Jessica didn’t want to be doing that while wearing thermal pajamas covered with sledding penguins. What if they took her picture for the paper? She could just imagine the headline: “Local Woman Saves Christmas.” If her sister had gotten on the news for locking herself in a Save Land dressing room, then she’d definitely make headlines for this. She smiled to herself as she hurried to her closet. Who said she couldn’t find the Christmas spirit?

  ***

  Charlie slid the skis through the window as he wobbled on the ladder. Don’t let me fall now. He’d almost completed his mission, and toppling off the ladder would ruin everything. Sirens split the night and he hoped they wouldn’t wake Morgan before he got inside. He had to make this the perfect Christmas. It’d been a tough year for the little girl.

  He looked behind him, pleased with his work. It had taken a while to figure it all out, but walking backward on hooves he’d fashioned out of hunks of wood tacked on top of tiny stilts had certainly left the impression that a herd of reindeer had landed in the yard. Sliding the skis through the snow made it appear as if Santa’s sleigh had touched down. Then he’d walked back through the tracks to the ladder, where he was trying slip back inside through the window. Uncle of the Year, he congratulated himself.

  Two cop cars pulled up in front of the house. Car doors flew open, and one of the cops yelled, “Freeze! Show your hands!”

  Shit. He raised his hands and tried to look behind him, but the ladder teetered and he reached to grab the gutter above him. But he missed, and landed in the snow—the ladder clattering down on over him.

  Right on top of the reindeer prints that had taken an hour to perfect.

  The cops ran to him, guns held high, and Charlie stuck his hands up. His face was stuck between two rungs. If not for the heavy snow pack, he’d be in a world of pain.

  “Who are you and what are you doing?”

  His heart hammered in his chest. “My sister and niece live here. I was leaving hoof prints outside. I was trying to climb back through the window so I that I didn’t leave footprints on the lawn.” He winced, thinking of all their footprints all over the lawn.

  One of the cops was kind enough to pull the ladder off him. “Do you have ID on you?”

  “In the house.”

  “Let’s go get it.”

  ***

  Jessica cupped her face as she peered out the window, waiting for the press to show up. That’s when she’d run outside and give them the scoop. She did a double-take. Wait a minute … they’re going inside with him? What the hell?

  Throwing on a coat and boots, she ran out the door. One of the cops was waiting by the cruiser, so she approached him. “Hi, I’m the one who called 911. Did you catch him? Was he robbing the place?” She was breathless.

  The officer shrugged. “The officers are trying to figure that out right now.”

  With that, the two cops followed the suspect out of the house, one of them shaking his hand. “We’re really sorry, sir.”

  Why aren’t they arresting him?

  The guy ran his hands through his hair. “I understand. But who called the police?”

  “That would be this woman here,” the officer next to Jessica said.

  Flustered, she put her hands on her hips. “Why were you crawling through the window? And who are you? I know Sally and she doesn’t have any guys in her life right now.”

  He walked toward her and stopped about a foot away, crossing his arms. S
he hadn’t realized he was cute when she’d thought he was a robber. “I’m Charlie Grant, Sally’s brother. She has to work late at the airport getting all those cancelled flights in, so I’m watching Morgan. Since she’s going to wake up to no Mommy, I thought I’d try to make it an extra special Christmas for her with hoof prints in the yard.” He stomped his feet in the snow and mumbled, “I kind of promised her she’d be able to see proof Santa had been here. She’s lost a bit of the holiday spirit.”

  Jessica gulped and her stomach tumbled. “But the ladder?”

  He gestured behind him. “Climbing in and out of the window was the only way to avoid leaving my footprints back to the front door. That would be a little obvious to a seven-year-old.”

  Just then a car pulled up and a photographer jumped out with a camera. He approached one of the officers. “Hey, Chris Henry from the paper. What’s going on here? A Christmas robbery?”

  The cop rubbed his chin. “Not exactly. This guy here was trying to create some magical Christmas scene outside for his niece. But his neighbor called 911 when she saw him climbing through the window.”

  “The magic’s kind of gone now,” Charlie said staring at the yard.

  The photographer snapped a picture of them lamenting over the trampled front yard.

  “So, who was the Grinch that called this in?” the photographer asked with a chuckle.

  Jessica wagged a finger at him. “Hey, I’m not a Grinch. I thought I was thwarting a robbery.” That was a nice big word for the paper—thwarting. She pointed at Charlie. “He doesn’t live here. I thought he was a stranger.”

  Charlie set his hand on her arm. “It’s okay. I appreciate you looking out for my sister and niece. It’s just been a rough year for her, and I wanted this Christmas to be really special for Morgan; get her mind off all the tough stuff.”

  And with that, a curly-haired girl rubbing her eyes wandered onto the front porch.

  “Oh, crap,” Charlie mumbled. He ran toward her. “Morgan, you should be in bed, or Santa won’t come.”

  “I think he did come, but he didn’t wrap all my presents.” She pointed to the unwrapped boxes and gifts scattered by the door on the living room floor, and the rolls of wrapping paper.