by Pixie Chica
“There’s always next year, baby. Now, why don’t you get you some rest? Tomorrow will be a long day. I’ll call in reinforcements.”
“Okay. Give me a second, and I’ll meet you downstairs. Can you cancel our plans for the evening since we need to go over numbers now that Brandie isn’t here?”
She simply nods, gives him a kiss then walks toward the door, but not before giving a sad glance at me. I wait until she’s out of the room and then try and plead my case to him.
“Dad, you have to believe me, this was never my intention. I tried to stop her.”
“Silence.” Fear creeps up my spine at his harsh tone. This is only the second time I’ve heard it. The first was when I totaled the car, and Brandie was with me. He was outraged, claiming I had no regard for her safety or mine, but it was an honest accident.
“I can explain.”
He slams his hands down, nostrils flaring. “What? How my only daughter left the only home she’s ever had? Or how I already lost one son over this stupid fight you two have had for years? Better yet, how I’m supposed to send you to find her weeks before Christmas while I run this place instead of giving your mom the honeymoon I promised?”
“I’m sorry,” is all I manage to say, shame filling every part of me.
“That won’t cut it. Your mom stood by my when I said goodbye to my father. She left her whole life behind when my own brother refused to take over. She helped me build all this. I have never been able to give her the honeymoon she deserved, where she didn’t need to be a mother of three, or Mrs. Claus, or a hostess—until now. But your pettiness where your sister is concerned, the two of you not acting like the family you are, ruined it.”
“I didn’t know any of that.”
“Of course, you didn’t. Parents always put their children first, but you are a grown man. I thought you were ready to be serious, but I was wrong. You get yourself on that next trolley and do not come back without her. I’ll try to discover who she may have gone to.”
Two days later...
NO ONE COMES TO SEE me off, not that I expected it. Everyone in the shop hates my guts because word has spread about what happened, not that I was their favorite to begin with. I’ve always been the black sheep of the family.
I only brought a duffle bag of stuff, not planning to be long. I intend to find Brandie, bring her home, and redeem myself. This won’t land on my shoulders, even though it usually does. My sister got the smarts and has perfected the skill of kissing ass. All our family and friends don’t think she can do any wrong, and I’m tired of her sweet act fooling them. She’s a control freak, who never wants things to change. Then there’s Ron, the prodigal son, who constantly blamed shit on me and Brandie. The fucker. Surprisingly, I’m more pissed at him than I could ever be at her.
He’d wanted nothing to do with the North Pole, despite it being expected he’d take over. When the time came, he’d bailed. He went to find himself, and now that Dad’s nearing retirement, Ron’s new excuse is me and Brandie’s bickering is too much. With the two of us being younger, we’d been expected to help out around here as our parents got older. But Ron claims an adventure awaits him, and he was encouraged to go after it. Brandie left for college, though she came back. I’m the only one who stayed, opting to learn various trades from the employees in the workshop.
Grabbing my cell, I try Brandie again and receive the same response. Nothing. Enjoy it while you can, sister, because I’m coming for you.
Chapter 1
Crystal
December 4th...
“Thank you so much. Have a Merry Christmas.”
Ugh, only three more hours of this shit. Don’t get me wrong, I love that the customers enjoy my baked goods. I just don’t like dealing with them because I am not a people person. Plus, I hate this holiday. There’s no tragic story behind my aversion to it, not that my childhood was all that great. I’d simply prefer to stay in my kitchen. There, I don’t have to be faced with the cheer and endless bags of goodies they’ve purchased. Not that I begrudge them buying for their loved ones. It’s the overindulgence that pisses me off, thanks to businesses shoving their sales pitches down your throat. Buy this, buy that, all while going broke doing so. Adults know Santa isn’t real, yet we let kids believe he is, only to have their souls crushed when “he” doesn’t come through on their wishes.
And it’s stuff they want but certainly don’t need. Overpriced bullshit left and right. I should know. My parents own one such store and spend millions on marketing. Those companies, theirs included, are the devil, preying on people for profit.
While everyone tries to spend as much time as possible for the holiday with their loved ones, I see mine once and try not to gouge my eyes out. I’m the middle child in a family of five, every child brighter than the next, according to my parents. We were always in competition to see who got the best grades, received the most accolades, etc. My youngest brother earned a PhD at fifteen. Then there’s me, the outlier in their eyes.
As a baker, I’m a disappointment because my skill can’t be used to their advantage, though they did try. Without sounding like I’m bragging, I have created the perfect cookie, and I’m not the one that labeled it as such. When I refused to give it to my family, the small nod they’d given me for the accomplishment was rescinded, and I was back to being the underachiever.
As soon as I turned eighteen, I got the hell outta there, after coercing my parents to dole out my share of the fortune. Yeah, I may have hated what they did to earn it, but I knew I would put it to good use, and I did. Sure, I could’ve worked my way up to this point, but I learned how to be shrewd in business, plus, using it to fund Crystal’s Christmas Cookies & Bakery is the ultimate fuck you. And that’s how a woman who hates this season ended up here.
Mostly, I ignore the festive attitudes, but today is a different story as I want to eliminate everyone in sight because my mother stopped by on the pretense of asking about the Sugarplum Ball less than a week away. I’d purposely avoided sending the RSVP, hoping to get out of it, but no dice. She nitpicked everything inside the shop, including me—my clothes, my hair, and the color of my nail polish. Then, like the sneaky self-serving person she is, she shifted to business matters and tried to buy a bunch of my cookies for her company. I refused. It wasn’t for any reason other than an attempt to lure me into her trap.
My siblings are the only reason I force myself to attend the ball. Yes, my parents’ views on life skewed theirs, but I’m the only one they all love because they aren’t threatened by me. And I’m okay with that. After an hour of her, I’m in the worst of moods, so when my best friend and roommate, Kent, comes in, a couple hours late, I just give him a look. He was supposed to rescue me before I snapped, but I’ve had over a hundred and fifty orders since I opened, and they’re still coming.
“I’m sorry! Between you, Grace, and DJing, I being run ragged,” he informs me, rolling his eyes. I’d fire anyone else for doing this, but I just playfully smack his arm. “You’re lucky you’re easy on the eyes. It’s a quality that sells.”
“No wonder these cookies are selling like they are. You’re pimping me out as scenery,” he teases, rising the hem of his shorts to mid-thigh. “Four hundred sales coming right up.”
“May your tongue turn to ash. I can barely deal with what we have now.”
“You mean all their Christmas cheer.”
“Same bullshit.”
He scratches his nose with his middle finger, and I can’t help but laugh. We met three years ago when he came strolling in. I was twenty-two and as green as can be. He heard my attitude and told me I needed help.
He started right then and helped me perfect my fake smile. My sales skyrocketed, and I offered him the use of my spare room. A couple months later, we met Grace and our fearless trio was born. Grace spent her life seeking the good in the world and owned a year-round Christmas emporium. That took some getting used to for a girl like me. Kent is the sarcastic glue that holds us together.<
br />
“Anything I should know about?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“Lydia from the salon said your mother’s limo was here for an hour. Why didn’t you call me? You know how much she loves me since that party. She was quite appalled when I drank wine off the balls of that naked ice sculpture I’d delivered.”
“In her defense, her true expression was hidden under all that Botox.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I shrug, not really wanting to get into it with him. “I’m fine, just want to be alone. I’ll be in my kitchen and leave the front to you.”
Chapter 2
Joe
The last few days have been shit. I learned Brandie was in Florida with our uncle, our dad’s brother who’d refused to take over. They weren’t very close when I was growing up, and now, I know it had to do with my grandfather’s death. Learning he didn’t want to become Santa, just like Ron, makes me see him in a different way...and not necessarily a good one.
Unfortunately, I need his help to find my sister and get us both back home where we belong. As soon as my plane lands, I head to the car rental agency booth and secure a ride. When I step outside, the heat hits me, and I instantly frown. Why the hell is it so hot?
Once in my vehicle, I blast the air conditioner, wondering why Uncle AJ chose to live here. I drive to the hotel closest to the address without getting lost, deciding to rent a room for one night. Other than family vacations, I’ve never been outside the North Pole, so this is a first for me. It’s then I realize I’ve lived a very sheltered life, which adds to my feelings of inadequacy. Brandie was right about a lot of things, my lack of experience being the biggest.
As I go to bed, I’m determined to make amends to my twin, and I’ll start with an apology. The next morning, I call my uncle as I knock on the door again, asking if he’s positive I’m at the correct address.
“Yes. I’m good friends with the manager, and he’s the only one in the area taking new short-term residents. I have to go. Just wait for her. I’m sure she’ll be there soon.” Disconnecting, I knock harder, wondering if her stubborn ass is ignoring me.
“I know you’re in there. Let me in.”
“Will you keep the damn racket down? I could hear you all the way inside my apartment. Acting like this, I can see why the fucking woman dumped you,” I hear behind me, and I’m instantly mesmerized by the voice. When I shift to see who was just giving me hell, I’m left speechless. She’s temptation at its finest, and I’m ready to surrender right away, to beg her to let me be in her presence. “Don’t just stand there and stare at me. Or are you one of those meatheads who can’t form a coherent sentence? With those muscles, I wouldn’t doubt it, although you don’t seem to fit the typical gym types we get around here.”
I clear my throat and approach her, unwilling to let the tall blonde with the full red lips think I’m an idiot. There’s no hint of fear in her emerald eyes as I get closer, but a blush is creeping up her neck and tinging her cheeks as she catches me ogling her. I like that she’s shy about me admiring her yet isn’t hesitating to take me on. I can already see us going toe to toe in the future. If I get to be Santa Claus, I’ll need a Mrs. Claus to keep me in line.
“Not a meathead, nor am I seeking a woman who dumped me, but I did find the one I’m taking out tonight,” I tell her with a wink. “I’m looking for—”
“I don’t care. However, I heard the manager mention a new tenant, though I haven’t seen them. Anyway, stop the pounding. It’s making my headache worse.”
Knowing she’s in pain upsets me, even something as temporary as this. I want to make it go away and give her everything she might need. Forever. I’m pretty sure most will consider me crazy, her included, but I know she’s it for me. My heart is beating so fast it’s threatening to come out of my chest. I want her as I’ve never wanted another. My dick eagerly agrees as thoughts of her in my bed run through my mind. This is a new experience for me. Honestly, I’d assumed the man below was broken since it hasn’t once been interested in anyone else. Seems I was wrong. It was merely in hibernation waiting for her.
“Okay, then,” she says as she begins closing her door, but I quickly stop the door with my foot out. “I have to go,” she informs me.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“Because I didn’t give it to you.” Then she sticks her head inside and reappears a second later, mace at the ready. “Are you going to be a problem?”
“No,” I assure her. “I just wanted your name.” I raise my hands in surrender, and she lowers hers, lips twitching. She finds me amusing. I can work with that.
“I’m Crystal, and I really do need to go.”
“How about dinner at eight?”
When she bites her bottom lip, I almost spill in my pants.
“What kind of girl do you think I am to accept a date two minutes after meeting a man that knocks on my door?”
“Your neighbor’s, actually.”
She’s confused at first by my reaction, the puff of air she expels ruffling her bangs. “Same difference. Not happening.”
“What can I do to change your mind?”
She rattles off the name of a store, and says, “If you can get them to give you the doll on display, I’ll think about it.”
“A doll?”
“Yes, and you have until two.”
“That’s only three hours from now.”
Her devious smile tells me she’s expecting me to fail. Oh, she has no idea. I’m determined to make her mine, even if that means completing a task she deems impossible.
“Are you not up for the challenge?”
“I’ll be here,” I promise, but her grin warns me she’s hiding something.
Chapter 3
Crystal
Looking at the clock, I feel my smile growing bigger than it’s been in a while. My task is a bit conniving on my part, and I fully admit I’m kind of proud of myself. There’s no way my mystery guy can deliver, not that I believe he actually cares enough to try. His eagerness to please me pissed me off. Hell, his whole demeanor did. How dare he disrupt my morning coffee with his obnoxious knocking then proceed to overwhelm me with his looks.
The man is sexy, I’ll give him that. That’s part of the problem. He checked boxes I didn’t even know I had. Tall enough to make me seem tiny compared to him, muscles without the gym-type look or feel. Maybe, he’s a boxer. I could tell his nose had been broken a time or two. Kent has a friend who’s one, so I noticed the similarities. However, unlike that jerk who is full of himself, acting as if the women of the world owe him something, this fellow came off as a loner.
Was he? Didn’t he have someone to keep him company? And why does the mere thought of him having no one to talk to or spend time with upset me? I must have a few screws loose. That’s the only explanation for why I’m letting my emotional side peek out because I buried that bitch years ago. I prefer being an ass. It’s safer.
I’m used to the meatheads and idiots who always try to ask me out, but I have no interest in them. They only want two things: a way into my family or my pants, and neither is up for grabs. But my mystery guy seemed different. He doesn’t give me a sense of fitting in, either.
His hazel eyes felt as if they could see into my soul. That’s what put my guard up, honestly. When he asked me out, my heart screamed yes, but I let my brain kick in and function instead. I wasn’t about to go on my first date ever with Joe Shmoe, especially since he was trying to talk to my new neighbor. For all I knew, it was an ex, and I don’t need that drama.
Not that any of this will be an issue. My mission is impossible—retrieve the doll my father refused to give up, a priceless antique, and the only thing my grandfather had left me. He’d been just as bad as his son but had turned over a new leaf in his old age. When he’d asked what I wanted most, I’d said that doll.
I was eleven, and he’d promised I could keep it for my future children. Two weeks later, he was gone, and my father had greed
ily added it to the company’s assets. The memory alone is enough to make my blood boil, just another example of how inconsiderate my parents have always been, viewing everything in monetary terms.
In anger, I sweep the stuff off the counter then immediately regret it and my temper. Thankful no one was there to witness it, I bend to pick it up. Of course, that’s when I hear the front door. Ugh, I am not ready to deal with a customer.
“Hello. I’ll be right with you.”
“No rush. I have all the time in the world for you,” the person says, the voice instantly letting me know who it is. This has to be a joke, he couldn’t have done it. As I rise, his face greets me with that crooked smile that only adds to his charm.
“I’m here as requested, though I really enjoyed the part where you didn’t tell me you wouldn't be home. Thankfully, I figured out where you were. I guess luck is on my side.”
“Whoopie doo, you found the best cookie shop in town. Showing up empty-handed doesn’t get you brownie points,” I inform him, not letting his hazel eyes sway me. Okay, maybe a little.
“Good. I want to show you I’m worthy because this is happening between us.”
“Aren’t you just a cocky motherfucker? How many girls has that landed you?”
“None. I’ve never been on a date, nor wanted to before you. I say that because I’d be stupid not to see you’re my one.”
Is he for real? “Oh, so you’re the bag 'em and book it type, but meeting me changed you,” I state, rolling my eyes. “Right. I am not gullible or naive like the others you’ve said that to.”
My words seem to confuse him, and I almost feel bad.
“I meant in the sense I’ve never been interested in a woman until you, so I definitely haven't ‘bagged’ any.” He sounds sincere, but I find it hard to believe a guy like him doesn’t have women lining up.