Her Christmas Miracles (Dunam Prep Boys #1)

by Lux Carmine

  She looked up from the camera she was taking apart, eyes narrowed. “Yeah?”

  “Good job, tonight, Santa,” I spoke up. We hadn’t exchanged more than ten words all night, but I knew whatever he was going to say wasn’t going to be good.

  He glared at me. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, elf?” He pushed on his thighs and stood, wandering over to the camera.

  I opened my mouth to respond, trying to find a super snarky retort, but Skylar spoke before I had a chance. “It’s okay, Devin. Why don’t you sweep up the carpet out here while I finish with the camera?”

  Santa leaned on the table for the cash register and into Skylar’s personal space. Her body stiffened, and she took a small step to the side, getting away from Santa while still working on the camera. “How about you and me …”

  “Skylar?” I said. “I can’t find the broom.”

  She let out a little breath and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “It’s right there.” She pointed, and sure enough, there was a broom tucked behind a Christmas tree. I grabbed it and started sweeping, staying close to them.

  “Why don’t we—” Santa began.

  “Oh, man, it’s getting late,” Skylar interrupted. “I need put away this camera and talk to Gwendolyn. I’ll see you both tomorrow?”

  “Why don’t I walk you to the storeroom to find her?” Santa put a hand on her elbow, and as she recoiled a little, my vision went red.

  I had to get her out of there without him getting any farther. “Santa? I was just wondering, could you help me with something over here?” I “accidentally” knocked the broom into the back of his leg, and he faltered where he stood.

  He clenched his jaw, annoyance clear on his brow. “Sure, elf,” he muttered. His eyes looked her over once more, his gaze pausing at her shimmering bust, before pushing away from the table. “I’ll guess we’ll continue this tomorrow, Sky.”

  Skylar’s mouth went small. She grabbed the camera and left before he had a chance to say anything else.

  “What the hell do you want?”

  I blinked at him, trying to look as innocent as possible. “I was just wondering, do you want these candy canes organized before we leave?”

  Santa cocked his head to the side and plastered on his best jolly smile. “Stay out of my business, kid. Or we’re gonna have a problem.” He turned on his heel and left.

  By the time I’d finished sweeping and made it into the employee locker room, there was no trace of Skylar anywhere. I changed out of the red tights Skylar held in such high regard, yanked the green polyester shirt over my head, and stuffed them in the bag they’d given us to carry our uniforms in. My preferred wardrobe was mostly black—black jeans, black t-shirt, black leather jacket—and once I was dressed again, I headed out into the night.

  The weather this winter had been harsh, worse than usual, and it was snowing again. I shivered against the cold and made my way to my car. My parents had just gotten me a Levante Trofeo, a slick dark-gray Maserati SUV, and I pressed a button on my fob to get the engine purring while I trudged across the parking lot. By the time I slid in and tossed my jacket and uniform bag into the back, the car was toasty warm inside.

  I hadn’t made it far when I spotted a figure walking on the side of the road, kicking snow in front of themselves with every step, long dirty blonde hair swinging in the darkness. It looked suspiciously like Skylar’s hair. I slowed to a crawl, pulling up next to the person, and rolled down the passenger-side window.

  “Skylar?”

  She stopped and turned to face me, and sure enough, it was her. My stomach lurched. I’d gone to such an effort to keep her safe from Santa the Prick and here she was, walking around in the pitch black in a snowstorm. Besides that, her jacket barely looked warm enough, and she didn’t have a hat on either. She looked miserable.

  And furious, I realized with a jolt.

  “You’re not serious,” she said, disbelief in her voice.

  “Hello to you, too.” I grinned, hoping like hell she’d smile back.

  “It’s you?”

  “It’s always been me, pretty girl.” But my attempts at being smooth fell flat.

  “You’re the jerk who stole my parking spot earlier.” She narrowed her eyes. “Leave me alone.” She resumed walking.

  I lifted my foot from the brake just a little, and turned on my emergency flashers, just in case. “Skylar, wait. Did something happen to your car?” No answer. “Can I call triple A for you?” Zip. “Are you walking home?” Nothing. I sighed and gave one last attempt at swaying her. “Let me give you a ride, at least. It’s miserable out.”

  She didn’t look at me. “Go away.”

  “Seriously. It’s snowing, and it’s just getting worse. Hop in. It’s warm in here, and it’ll give me a chance to show off my new car.” I couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to her out here in the dark and snow, if I were being honest with myself.

  “I think you did a fine job of that earlier when you cut me off …” Skylar looked at me again, then rolled her eyes. “Fine. But only because it’s cold, and I’ll get home faster if I let you drive me.” She pulled open the door and climbed in the SUV, stuffing her bag at her feet. The scent of peaches filled my front seat. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold. I suddenly ached to reach out and push her hair behind her ear, to see how soft her skin was. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  “Address?”

  Skylar hesitated.

  A car rolled up behind me and honked the horn. I needed to get going. Turning off the flashers, I let off the brake again. “Skylar?”

  “Sunny Day Trailer Park. One fourteen Sunnyside Lane.” She looked out the window as she spoke. Her shoulders curled in. It was all I could do to keep from putting a hand on her shoulder and asking what was wrong.

  “Oh, man, you were going to walk all that way? That’s the other side of town!”

  She shrugged, and buckled up. “Thanks for taking me home.” Her voice was small and I almost hadn’t heard her.

  We were quiet for a few minutes, me trying to keep myself from showing off the muscle power in my new car, and her staring out the window, watching the snow fly by. It wouldn’t impress her much if I ended up spinning out on black ice, after all.

  “Do you always walk home alone after work, or is that something special you save for extra cold, snowy nights?”

  “My mom was supposed to give me a ride home, but she didn’t answer when I called her cell. I guess she forgot or went to bed or something.”

  “I know how that can be,” I said, even though I couldn’t really imagine it. I’d had my own car as long as I’d had a license, and before that, between Max’s parents, Parker’s, and my own, we always had a ride wherever we needed to go. “So you go to Eastside High?”

  “Go dogs,” she said with as much enthusiasm as a golf spectator, still staring at the window rather than looking at me. “And you go to Dunam Prep? Or Meadowvale Academy?”

  “Yeah, Dunam.”

  She nodded, pressing her lips together like she had me totally figured out. “So you’re doing the Santa thing for kicks? A way to pass time? Does it count as like charity or community service or something?” She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded me impatiently.

  My wealth had never really been an issue with girls before, and my cheeks began to burn with shame and embarrassment. I rubbed the back of my neck. “I, uh … it’s kind of a long story.”

  “We’ve got time.”

  “My best friends, Max and Parker, we sort of pulled a few pranks at a Christmas party our parents were throwing. It didn’t go over well.”

  Her impatience quickly faded into something else and I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. “Max and Parker, huh? Like best friends?”

  “We grew up together. Live in the same neighborhood. Our families are really close. We’re like brothers.”

  “Brothers,” she repeated in a mumble, turning away from me again.
r />   “Yeah. So after the party, they told us we had to get jobs. ‘Do something productive,’ they said.”

  “And handing out candy canes to little kids is productive?” She snorted.

  I shrugged, glancing at her. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  It didn’t take much longer to get to her neighborhood—if you could call it that. I turned into a trailer park that looked grimy even in the dim light, going about five miles per hour. She gave me directions once we were in the park, and I pulled up in front of a cream trailer with a rickety wooden front stoop. There was a single sad string of Christmas lights on the handrail, with several bulbs out.

  “Home sweet home,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Something like that. Thanks for the ride.” She wasted no time in bailing, pushing the door open and grabbing her things as quickly as possible. I watched her make her way up the steps to the door without looking back. The scent of peaches lingered behind her and my heart practically skipped a beat. I hoped it would never fade.

  As I was pulling out of the trailer park, my phone rang. I pressed a button on my steering wheel to answer it.

  “Where the hell are you?” Parker’s voice rang out by way of greeting.

  “Long story. What’s up?”

  He launched into a story about the meeting he’d just had, with a college scout who was considering him for their football team, and how this was his chance at a pro career. All I could think about while he talked was the scent of peaches, and how cute Skylar’s pink cheeks were when I’d rescued her from the cold.

  Chapter 7

  SKYLAR

  I only felt a little guilty for taking the night off to take Bella to a program at the art museum downtown. I imagined Parker and Devin standing around, lost without the only female elf to direct them around the stage. What would they do without me? But then I remembered Gwendolyn. She wouldn’t let them meander around aimlessly, she’d have them whipped into shape in no time. Right at this moment, All-American football prodigy Parker, blond-haired and blue-eyed, was probably behind the camera snapping awesome pictures, because he seems like the kind of guy who is good at everything, and bad boy Devin with the incredible green eyes and unnaturally silver hair was probably holding a baby who thought he was God.

  “I can’t paint, Sky, I’m only four!” Bella stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, jerking me to a stop.

  I took a couple of steps back and stooped down to her level, taking up her other hand too. Fear danced in her eyes. “You look a little afraid. What have I told you about fear?”

  “In all the liars, the baddest are my fears.”

  I nodded. She’d twisted the Rudyard Kipling quote just slightly, but the message was still there. “Yes. Whatever your fears are telling you right now, Bella, it’s all a bunch of lousy lies. So what are they telling you?”

  “That my painting will be the baddest. And I’ll be a baby. And that they’ll laugh at my clothes.”

  Oh, how I ached for her. Many of our fears were the same. I pulled her into my arms and gave her a big hug, then whispered into her ear. “They’re all a bunch of lies, Bella. We don’t want to miss this fun event because of your fears, right?” I pulled away and regarded her little face as I smoothed back her hair. This was my own little Christmas gift to her. As soon as I saw the flyer on the community job board at school asking for volunteers, I knew I needed to sign Bella up. Soon I wouldn’t be home anymore, and I wanted her to have something on the wall to remember me by, something to remember our sisterhood bond and how much I loved her. I’d been fourteen when Bella was born, and with Mom working, and Dad being the deadbeat he was, I’d been responsible for her.

  She pulled me in for another tight hug before releasing me. “I won’t be scared. I’ll be brave like you.”

  I smiled as I stood up. If only she knew just how not brave I was. Boys in particular scared the crap out of me. I was scared of ending up like my mom—pregnant and stuck with a man who couldn’t support me. I was scared of getting my heart broken, not that I’d ever been close to falling in love. I daydreamed, sure, but I was determined not to get sidetracked by a handsome face or some fluffy meaningless words.

  Bella talked the rest of the way to the museum about her preschool teacher and Jimmy, the bad boy in her class. I nearly fell over when she confessed Jimmy was her boyfriend and they were going to get married because he like-liked her.

  She quieted down as we entered the museum, and after speaking with the front desk, we went down a hallway opposite where the bathrooms were at the front of the museum until we found the meeting room. It was set up and ready for the attendees. An Asian girl with the glossiest black hair I’d ever seen approached and motioned to the nametags on a small table by the front door, instructing us to find our name and take a seat anywhere we wanted. It was already half full, so our options were limited.

  Once we were settled, I leaned over and whispered to Bella. “How are you doing now? Feeling okay?”

  She nodded and fingered the brushes that were sitting bristles-down in a cup on the table. She glanced around the room and was a ball of motion compared to all the other kids, who were indeed, much older than she was. I set my book bag down between my feet, and felt the creep of uncertainty ball up in my shoulders. Had this been a mistake after all? Was I setting her up for failure?

  My foot bounced with nervousness. A tall, slender guy with dark hair and glasses, entered just before the event started. He was the kind of guy who probably had a photographic memory. He’d go to college and study philosophy or art. On second thought, maybe he was the kind of guy who pretended to be smart. Faux glasses were a style. My eyes studied the strong shapely biceps under his forest green sweater. Maybe he was some dumb jock who didn’t want people to know he was dumb. The girl who’d guided us to take a nametag called the class to attention and began calling out instructions.

  “Sky! Help! I’m behind!” Bella said, the wobble in her throat meant she was on the verge of tears. I got up and leaned over, glancing at the instructor’s example. I was whispering to her and pointing where she should draw with her pencil, when a hand brushed my hip. The touch was like a jolt of electricity. I stood and spun to face the person, to chastise them for touching me without asking permission first. It was the chic geek, and his glorious chestnut brown eyes. My breath caught in my throat when he smiled at me. I stepped back, trying to put some distance between us so I didn’t fling myself at his chest.

  I was losing my mind. Maybe I would have to write Santa and ask him for a “boy crazy” cure. I had it bad.

  “The drawing is very important to the end product. Let me help her,” he said, his voice much deeper than I would have expected.

  “Uh, sure …” I crossed my arms over my chest and watched, my heart skittering as he patiently helped my sister. For a moment, I felt a tinge of jealousy that he wasn’t huddled over my shoulder and directing my hand with his.

  When he stood back up, I smiled, and the feeling of it hurt my cheeks. “Thanks.”

  He nodded and promptly moved on. I exhaled with disappointment that he seemed uninterested, but tried not to let it show. He made his rounds a few more times. I tried not to actively stalk him, but I was curious if he paid attention to other ladies in the room with the same amount of interest. Every time he checked on Bella, he touched me. A touch on my shoulder, a touch on my back, his elbow grazing mine … it was weird and probably all in my imagination, though I didn’t see him touching anyone else. Around the others, he seemed to keep personal space. Or maybe that’s what I wanted to see.

  As the class came to a close, I glanced over at the guy. I smiled when his eyes quickly moved to the instructor speaking at the front of the room. Had he been staring at me? I chided myself. I wasn’t looking for a guy and even if I were, I already had two crushes living in Crushtown. I did not need to add a third.

  With canvas in hand, we made our exit, thanking everyone. When we reached the chic geek, he scra
tched at the back of his head, avoiding my eyes.

  “Thank you for all your help,” Bella said. She hugged the guy around his knees and then stepped back, grinning.

  The guy smiled nervously, his arms crossed casually over his chest, his hands gripping his elbows loosely. It was frickin’ adorable. “Sure. How did it turn out?”

  Bella turned her painting around and beamed proudly.

  “She has a little while to go before she’s on the same skill level as Morisot, but she’ll get there,” I said, placing my hand on the back of Bella’s hair.

  “Morisot? You know other Impressionist painters?” he asked, his eyes sliding to mine, his tone clearly surprised.

  The sting of feeling underestimated and judged hit me hard. So much for him being into me. I smiled politely and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Thanks again.”

  “Wait, um … has anyone ever told you that you look similar to the girl in William McGregor’s Girl Combing Her Hair?”

  I wasn’t familiar with that particular painting—if it even was one. Perhaps it was his lame attempt at a pickup line. Maybe he used it often when he came to the art museum. I decided to deflect with sarcasm. “Oh, yeah. Constantly. We gotta go.”

  He seemed perplexed for a moment but nodded all the same. As we were headed away, I overheard someone yelling. “Max! There you are!”

  My back stiffened as I recognized the arrogant undertone. Devin. That was his Max? Why were they suddenly turning up everywhere I went? It was getting a little too coincidental for my liking. I kept my head ducked as we escaped out the backdoor.

  Chapter 8

  SKYLAR

  Friday nights were starting to become busy, and Gwendolyn had scheduled not just me, but all three of the new prep school guys to work the floor. This time, Max was assigned to wrangle kids onto Santa’s lap, while Parker and Devin were on line duty, and I worked the camera. Every time one of the guys looked at me, I did my best to fix a jolly smile on my face so I didn’t reveal how … weird I felt about the fact that I’d had romantic thoughts about each of them.