Snowman

by AC Netzel

  This isn’t corny at all. It’s breathtaking… like strolling into a living, breathing Norman Rockwell Christmas painting.

  I saunter up to the barn door. Muffled voices and holiday music are directly behind the weathered wood. It’s time to socialize.

  “I’m the greatest actor in the world,” I whisper to myself. My stomach is queasy—a combination of hunger pangs and the uncertainty ahead. I draw in a breath then exhale it quickly. Will they hate me, or will they be their oddly cheery selves? Will they hold my job against me?

  There’s a whole lot I don’t know. But there are two things I do…

  I’m never going to find out unless I walk inside the building.

  And I’m freezing my ass off.

  Slowly, I grab the door’s edge, slide it over, and enter. I’m immediately awestruck, like I stepped into a beautiful dream. Every beam and arch is covered with tiny white Christmas lights. Red, pink, and off-white poinsettias are planted in large pots strategically placed at the foot of each column. It’s rustic, yet surprisingly elegant. Although I’m on time, this party looks like it’s been in full swing for a while. The barn is packed with people.

  I spot three metal clothing racks loaded with winter coats near the entrance. I guess the coat check is by the honor system. I hang my coat and ready myself for this new experience.

  A dance floor is dead center with what looks like the entire town enthusiastically doing some weird dance combination of the cha-cha slide and a two-step. My hippie neighbors are solidly representing the 60’s, with some psychedelic dance moves, shaking and striking the multi-colored ribbon-enhanced tambourines in their hands. Their enthusiasm far from matches the beat they’re dancing to.

  I’m here less than a minute, and I can already tell there are enough flakes on that dance floor to declare a snow emergency and close the schools for a week.

  Two tall electric heaters are set up near what looks like a table with refreshments. I make my way through the crowd of people. Warmth and food? That spot has my name written all over it.

  I survey the table where a variety of homemade cakes, pies, and cookies are laid across. Everything looks and smells delicious. Judging from the different styles of plates, it’s clear this was a dessert potluck.

  And I show up empty-handed.

  Way to go me!

  Grabbing a small paper plate, I take a gingerbread man off a bell-shaped platter. I bite off his foot and savor the spicy molasses cookie. I don’t know who taught the people in this town how to bake, but damn… Good stuff.

  As I’m gnawing away at my cookie, I spot Nick across the room, walking toward Joseph, the Gel-Crispy barber. Joseph must have on his special occasion holiday gel because this guy scores a solid fifty on a one to ten scale of hair crispiness. Following close behind Nick is his ex, Ever.

  I swear that girl is so far up his ass, she could lick his prostate and diagnose him.

  Ignoring Valerie’s directions, I remain invisible in the back corner of the barn, observing Nick from afar. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake this need to be close to him. I’m drawn to him by some unexplainable pull.

  Joseph has his arm wrapped around a woman with long, dark curling-wand wavy hair and a very pregnant belly. That must be his wife. The four smile and chat like old friends. Ever rests her hand on Nick’s shoulder. This girl is the most body language obvious person I’ve ever seen.

  Possessive much?

  Geez.

  Nick doesn’t reciprocate, but he doesn’t push her away either. My heart squeezes as I watch them together. They look good as a couple. Both ridiculously attractive. Both live here. Maybe the ‘exhausting’ part of Ever he was referring to wasn’t emotionally… but sexually. Was the reference meant as a compliment? No guy tosses away good sex.

  Ugh.

  Valerie is right.

  He makes me stupid.

  “Still spying?” a voice to my side asks.

  “I… I,” I stutter. Turning to my side, I come face to face with Merry the waitress. She’s decked out in body-hugging gold spandex pants, an oversized Christmas sweater, and a sequined poinsettia clip in her beehive hair. She smiles warmly, and I smile back. “I’m not spying.”

  “Oh, honey, your eyes may be blue. But from where I’m standing, I only see green.”

  “I’m not jealous either,” I whisper.

  Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “Why don’t you talk to him instead of standing in the corner of the room like your prom date just dumped you?”

  I glance at him, Ever’s arm now coiled around his, then back at Merry. “He’s not exactly my favorite person. And trust me, the feeling’s mutual. Besides, he looks pretty busy with his girlfriend.” I point my chin in their direction.

  “She’s not his girlfriend. Trust me, I’d know. Silly girl, always chasing after him. She craves attention from any man, especially him. Just like that old saying, ‘No matter how hard you try—You just can’t take the elf out of the shelf.’ Ever will never change.”

  Pretty sure that’s not a real saying.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not here to make a love connection, I’m here to…” I stop short before another Arid Falls resident hates me.

  “To buy lakefront property for the condos your New York company is fixing to build.”

  “You know?” My eyes widen. “How did you find out?”

  “Darlin’, it’s a small town.”

  “And you’re still talking to me?”

  “You’re only doing your job. Anyway, I have a strong sense about people. You’re one of the good ones.”

  “I haven’t felt that way lately,” I admit, surprising myself with my candidness.

  “If that’s how you feel, maybe you need to reevaluate your line of work.”

  I take another bite of my cookie, staring at the party of four across the barn. “I have a great job.”

  “It may be great.” She grabs a sugar cookie off the table. “But is it great for you?”

  “There you are!” We’re interrupted by the ugly Christmas sweater-wearing duo of… dammit… what are their names? Tall someone and short somebody else.

  “Oh, hey,” don’t say Jingle Belle, “you two.”

  “Holly told us you were coming,” Jingle says.

  She told me I was coming too.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. This place looks incredible.” Half true.

  They smile proudly. “It certainly does. Be sure to try the sugar Christmas cookies on the red plate. That’s ours. Our mother’s award-winning secret recipe.”

  “I will.” Not a lie. I’m starving.

  Merry and the Jingle Belles catch up with each other and clue me in on the latest Arid Falls scandals. Seems this place is brimming with people who are a few logs short of an open fire. After our gossip-a-thon, Merry leaves to find herself a dance partner for the night.

  “Over there… by the haystacks.” Belle points at a tall brunette in a Christmas sweater dress. “That’s Joy Yuss. Her college boyfriend is marrying her cousin. She’s here for their wedding.”

  “Wow. That’s awkward,” I say. “Looks like she recovered pretty well. That guy she’s holding hands with is handsome.”

  “She’s saving face,” Belle cups her hand to the side of her mouth and whispers. “He’s her fake fiancé.”

  “A fake fiancé? For real?” I ask.

  “It’s more common than you think,” she assures me.

  “Oh, look,” The other sister points across the room. “There’s Nick.”

  I peek at him talking in his four-person cluster and nod, feigning disinterest.

  “Yoo-hoo Nick,” they holler in unison, waving their arms wildly in the air. “Over here!”

  He glances up and grins. Tilting his head slightly, he raises a brow when he spots me and smirks.

  Mimicking him, I raise a brow then dramatically bite the head off my gingerbread man.

  He chuckles then says something to the people in his circle and heads to
ward us, leaving a dejected Ever in his path. My stomach flutters and flips with each step closer he gets.

  “Hello, ladies.” He gives Jingle and Belle a quick peck on their cheeks.

  They giggle and blush like schoolgirls.

  He walks over to me until he’s towering above me. Looking down at the headless cookie, he shakes his head, amused. I stare up at him, pretending his close proximity and piercing blue eyes aren’t affecting me the way they are.

  “Sloane,” he says, his voice smooth and sexy.

  “Snowman.”

  Chapter 23

  “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, looking genuinely surprised.

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Did my Aunt invite you?”

  “More like ordered me.”

  “Ordered you, huh?” he asks, amused, then shakes his head. “I’m glad she did.”

  Why is he glad I’m here? He hates me.

  Sometimes.

  I think.

  For the life of me, I can’t read this guy.

  “We’re going to the Ladies’ Room to powder our noses,” Jingle says, elbowing her sister’s side.

  Why the hell did they call him over if they were just going to abandon me? I want to be alone with them… not him.

  “Snowmance is in the air,” Belle sings to her sister then turns her attention to Nick and me. “You two have fun. Maybe dance a little.” She winks as they stroll to the other side of the barn, nowhere near a bathroom.

  Are they seriously trying to fix us up?

  And snowmance is not a real word.

  Nick’s eyes are riveted on my face. Slowly and seductively, his gaze slides down, raking boldly over my body. Warm, naughty tingles invade my nerve endings. I wish I had an off switch to control the way my body reacts to him.

  “Nice boots,” he says, his eyes hooded, the silkiness in his tone making me weak in the knees.

  “These old things?” I lift my skirt up a little, giving him a quick peek at the laces. “Probably not the best choice for a barn floor.”

  “I think they’re,” he murmurs, his tongue darting out as he wets his lips, “perfect.”

  A warm flush creeps across my cheeks, reaching all the way to my ears. “Thanks.”

  “I like your hair down like that.”

  Of course he does. I look like everyone else in this town, including the jealous redhead who’s barreling our way.

  Lucky me. I get to meet the possessive girlfriend of the guy I can’t stand, and my traitorous sex-starved body lusts after. She stops next to Nick and plasters a mega-watt smile in my direction.

  “Nicky,” she whines, grabbing on to his arm. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  “Of course,” he says. “Ever Green, this is Summer Sloane.”

  She offers me her hand. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to shake it or kiss the gaudy snowflake ring she’s wearing, but I go the professional route and shake.

  “Nice to meet you,” I lie as I release my grip.

  “Summer. How do I know your name?” she asks, tapping a finger to her cheek, pretending she doesn’t already know who I am. “Oh yes, you’re that property developer from New York.”

  I give a tight smile and nod. “That’s me.”

  “Well, this town could use a little change.” She directs her attention to Nick. “If you sell your house, you could move closer to me.”

  “Noelle is happy there,” he says.

  “Do you always have to think about Noelle?” she asks, her perfectly tweezed brows furrow.

  Good Lord, what is wrong with this girl? Of course he does.

  “Of course I do,” he answers, annoyed.

  I can spot a legitabitch a mile away, and this girl is one-hundred and fifty percent legit bitch.

  She turns her attention back to me. “I bet you’re fabulous at what you do. I’m confident you’ll change his mind.” She narrows her eyes, lowering her voice. “Then you can leave and go back to New York.”

  That was the politest passive-aggressive statement ever hurled my way.

  I search deep inside myself for some solidarity with Ever. We both want the same thing, even if it’s for entirely different reasons. But I’m coming up empty.

  This girl annoys me.

  Purposely ignoring her, I look straight at Nick. She’s not the only one who excels in polite passive-aggressiveness. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Won’t we, Nicky?”

  I know I shouldn’t have added the sarcastic pitch at the end of my question—but when you rub me the wrong way, I operate at an unusually high level of pettiness.

  “You’ll be waiting a good long time,” he murmurs, cutting straight through my fluttering heart and shooting electric currents throughout my body.

  Is he flirting with me in front of his girlfriend?

  “Lucky for me,” I say coyly, “I have all the time in the world.” Slowly, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip.

  And why am I flirting back?

  He inhales a deep breath, his lust-filled eyes never leaving mine. In a perfectly inappropriate alternate universe, we’d be frantically flinging off our clothes, and I’d be the dessert spread across that banquet table.

  I close my eyes to rid myself of the delicious visual I just inserted in my brain. Maybe Merry is right about them. Nick may be a Lumberjerk, but he doesn’t seem to be the type of guy to make such a massively dick move like flirting with another woman in front of his girlfriend. I open my eyes to Ever giving me a dirty look.

  This guy checks me out, and I get blamed. Typical.

  Fa-la-la-la-la fuck off, lady.

  Ugh. I have to ignore this undeniable magnetism between us. I’m here for work—and definitely not play—including mean girl games or hot guy hookups. Taking a step back, I inwardly cringe at what I’m about to do.

  “Hey, Jeb!” I call out to the tow truck driver standing across the room, motioning him to join us and break up the tension—sexual and otherwise.

  Jeb grins ear to ear as he schleps toward us at a snail’s pace. He’s decked out in his usual flannel shirt, jeans, and timberland boots. His hair is holding steady at a solid eight on my gel-crispiness scale.

  “Hi y’all.” He shakes Nick’s hand then turns to me and nods. “Ma’am. Nice to see you again.” Jeb looks at Ever, and his face lights up. “Miss Ev… Ever,” he stutters as his cheeks turn a bright shade of crimson.

  Aww, the Jebster has a crush.

  “Good to see you, Jeb.” Ever smiles, delighted by the attention. “You look quite handsome this evening.”

  He blushes again. “New flannels.”

  If she’s trying to make Nick jealous, I’m pretty confident it’s not working as his attention is currently focused on me.

  “Would you like to dance,” Jeb asks her.

  Peeking at Nick, who looks like he could give a rat’s ass about who she dances with, she exhales a frustrated breath, then grabs Jeb’s wrist. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  She drags a beaming Jeb on to the dance floor, leaving Nick and me alone.

  “You don’t mind your date dancing with another guy?” I tease.

  “She’s not my date.”

  “Does she know that? I mean, you both looked pretty chummy over there. And you had a date with her the other night at the diner.”

  “Again, not a date. Ever is buying her father a new bob house for Christmas. His old fishing shack is falling apart. She needed advice. So we grabbed a bite, and I gave her some recommendations.”

  “While holding her hand?”

  “Were you watching us?” he asks playfully.

  “I may have glanced over once. With the endless string of Nicky this, Nicky that, Nicky, you’re so funny… I couldn’t help but look. I happened to notice her hand was on yours.”

  “That’s just Ever’s way,” he dismisses. “She’s a very tactile person.”

  Men are clueless.

  She doesn’t care about a stupid shack. She made up an e
xcuse to be alone with you. And she touches you because she wants you to touch her back.

  “You know what… I shouldn’t have said anything. Your private life is none of my business.”

  “None of your business?” he muses. “Does that include my house?”

  Shaking my head, my lips quirk up into a smile. “Nope.”

  He takes a step closer, closing the gap between us until we’re practically touching. I take a step back until I’m trapped between him and the table. The music and voices around us dwindle down to white noise. The rapid beating of my heart amplifies inside my head. People in the room fade into the background. He lifts my chin with his index finger until our gazes meet.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he mutters.

  Sex.

  Do sex with me.

  The hot, raw, sweaty, sheet-clawing kind.

  My cheeks heat up while dirty thoughts flood my mind. He smiles slyly, his eyelids hooded like he has the same filthy ideas.

  This… this thing between us… has to stop. There’s too much on the line. I reach behind my back and grab whatever baked goodie is closest to my hand. Swinging my arm in front of me, I hold out my find.

  “Hungry?” I ask while my heart pounds wildly.

  “Not for the cookie.” His voice is low and filled with promise—of the indecent variety.

  “I’ll take it.” A small hand reaches up and snatches the cookie from my grip. My eyes widen, and Nick takes a quick step back as the moment is abruptly halted.

  “Oh, hey Noelle.” I glance uneasily at Nick.

  “Hi Summer,” she says with a mouthful of cookie. Her hair is neatly styled in a French braid. She’s wearing the navy-blue dress with rhinestone belt we bought together with a pair of white cowboy boots. Of course, this was the fancy event she needed the dress for.

  “Your dress looks amazing. Your hair looks pretty like that,” I tell her.

  “Aunt Holly did it.” She side-eyes Nick. “He tried, but he’s not very good at it.”

  I place my hand over my mouth to hide my smile.