by Kali Hart
“I better call the tow truck again. Make sure they’re still coming.”
I try not to let my feelings get hurt by his unwillingness to talk about his objections with my favorite holiday. Especially when I told him about my mom last night. If I meant anything to him more than a fling, surely he would understand that.
But I remind myself that this is nothing more than a bit of fun with a man I’ll never see again. Feelings be damned. At least I try to. But his words from last night keep echoing in my mind. You’re mine, Mia.
CONNER
I let Mia make the call, but I already know the news she’ll receive. The storm escalated overnight. Another eight inches. Gusts of wind up to forty-five miles an hour in places. The roads are a mess, and most of them are closed. Including the one Mia needs to get back to town. There’s no tow truck getting out here today.
Though I had fully intended to let Christmas pass alone and unacknowledged, I’m not sad about it either. It might be nice to have someone help pass the time. Naked.
I excuse myself while Mia tries another number.
It’s not her fault I won’t even talk about Christmas. How could she possibly know that my parents were killed in a car accident on Christmas Eve? I was only sixteen when that happened. My world has never been the same.
Only my sister tried to keep the Christmas traditions alive. My brother and I turned into Scrooges. Eventually, Jenny gave up. Now the three of us keep our distance during the holiday season. Have for years.
Despite all that, Jenny mailed me a box of ornaments from our childhood several years ago. I took one look inside and closed it up. It’s been up in my attic ever since. I’m not going to decorate that tree, but the urge to open the box is overwhelming. I dig it out of its hiding place and set it on the chair in my bedroom.
Christmas used to be a happy time for our family. The happiest, actually. My mom loved that holiday more than anyone I know. More than Mia even.
Maybe I should stop being a Scrooge. Mia’s going to be snowed in with me, and she’s never not had a tree. Though the tree is up so it can get the water it needs, it’s bare.
I take one ornaments out of the box and let it twirl by the string in my fingers. It’s an angel. One my mom picked out when we were Christmas shopping together when I was a kid. It was a tradition, to take each kid separately to shop for the others, and pick out one new ornament to add to the tree. This particular angel has a lot of good memories tied to it.
Pain twists my chest. I can’t do this. Christmas is a thing of the past. It’ll never be the same. I drop the angel back into the box and shove the lid on. This part of my life is behind me forever.
“I can’t leave.” Mia’s standing in the doorway, still missing pants. I don’t mind. The woodstove keeps the chill out of the air, and if she gets cold I have plenty of other ideas to keep her warm. “The main road is closed. No one can tell me when it might reopen, but it doesn’t sound like today.”
I search for the sadness in her eyes, but I can’t find much of it. “Guess you’re stuck with me another day.”
“Guess so.” She unbuttons her top and lets it drop to the floor.
6
MIA
I never imagined spending Christmas Eve this way, stranded in the mountains with a man I just met. Naked. I swear, we’re missing clothes more than we’re wearing them. Insatiable, the both of us. This is way better than the Christmas I expected to spend with my ex. In fact, meeting Conner has me questioning how I ever ended up with someone like Rhett in the first place.
What I feel for Conner is like nothing I ever felt for Rhett. Not even close.
Conner is softly snoring in the bed, finally worn out from the several rounds we’ve gone. We’ve explored every inch of this cabin in the naughtiest possible ways. So many ways. It’s understandable that he would be out cold. But me, I’m wide awake.
I tiptoe out into the open kitchen slash living room. The light from beneath the microwave washes a warm glow over the entire space. But I wish it were the glow of Christmas lights on the tree. It feels wrong not to have that. It makes me miss my mom something fierce.
A tear drops, then two. Before I know it, I’m a mess. My cheeks are covered in tears, and I’m sniffling worse than if I had a cold. I’ll always miss her.
Decorating the tree was something we always did together. It feels wrong to leave this beautiful tree bare.
I saw Conner with a box of ornaments earlier, but I didn’t ask him about it. I don’t know what his reservation is with the holiday, but I think it’s something big. Something painful. I recognized the grief painted in his eyes earlier. I’d worn it myself for a long time.
The box calls to me. It’s still sitting in the chair in the bedroom.
Against the warnings whispering in my ears, I retrieve it and set to work. I find a string of lights and put them on first. They’re not much—not anything like the collection I have back at my apartment—but the strand lights up. That’s what counts. My mom would be proud of me for making the best of the few things I have to work with. It was her super power, after all.
After an hour, the tree is filled with every last ornament from the box. I think it looks amazing.
Conner will probably be upset, but I hope it’ll pass quickly. If he lost someone like I did, he needs this. A little push. A nudge to help him remember the good things about Christmas. Because in the end, no matter how much I miss my mom, the good memories always trump the emptiness I feel without her.
I don’t know if there’s a future for me and Conner, but if there is, Christmas has to be a part of it.
Leaving the tree lit, I sneak back into the bedroom and crawl under the covers. Conner’s arm goes around me instantly, pulling me close like a cherished teddy bear. I snuggle into him and drift off to sleep, hoping that maybe—just maybe—he’ll wake up excited to see the tree decked out in his ornament collection.
CONNER
It’s Christmas.
The torturous thought invades the second I awake, just like it does every year. It doesn’t matter how much I push it away. The day comes anyway. So does the familiar ache for my parents. They’ve been gone for well over a decade, but the pain feels fresh.
I pull Mia to me tighter, reveling in the feel of her silky skin against mine. I doubt any tow truck will run today without charging a fortune. I’m banking on it. One more day with Mia might just be enough to figure out how to keep her in my life for good.
For the past three years, I’ve enjoyed my quiet, solitary life out here in the mountains. The only neighbors I have for well over a mile are the Benson’s, and I like it that way. Except now, I can’t imagine how empty my cabin will feel when Mia leaves.
But what if she doesn’t have to leave?
I kiss her forehead and gently let go of her warm body. My dick is hard again. No surprise there. It’s always hard when Mia is near. It’s probably gotten used to the two of us being naked more than we are clothed.
Scooting out of bed, I find my clothes. I need to chop some wood as we’re running low. It’ll also help me forget about what day this is. Forget about the painful memories attached to it. By the time I’m done and sweaty, it’ll feel like any other winter day.
At the edge of the hallway, my heart jolts to a stop. The glow of Christmas lights attack my vision. “What the fuck?” I mutter.
Mia.
Rage bubbles inside my chest. How could she do this?
I grab for my coat. I need to chop some wood. It’ll help calm me down. I should leave and deal with this later. But I’m so furious I don’t even make it to the door before I’m stomping down the hallway.
“What the hell have you done?”
Mia’s eyes pop open wide and she scoots back against the headboard, clutching a blanket up to her chin. “I just—”
“I told you. I don’t do Christmas.”
“I’m—I’m sorry.” Her eyes glisten with tears.
Fuck, I feel like an ass. But I can’t s
eem to stop. She’s crossed a line. “I want it taken down before I come back.” Before she has a chance to say anything, I storm outside. I let the door slam to emphasize how deadly serious I am.
7
MIA
I’m still shaking minutes after the door slams. I guessed Conner might be upset by the decorations, but I grossly underestimated his anger. Maybe I’m wrong about his losing someone. Maybe someone betrayed him and my decorating the tree reminded him of it. I was so caught up in my own grief that I never considered that.
Either way, it’s a sign. A sign that’s it’s time for me to go. I’ve overstayed my welcome.
After I’m dressed, I call the most promising tow truck lead I had yesterday. One that was willing to come out on Christmas day if the road was open. Finally, some good news. He’ll be out in an hour.
I gather what little I have, which is basically just my coat, knockoff UGGs, and a purse. I can’t take the tree. It saddens me to leave it behind, but at least for a short while I got to see it decorated. I’m not going to undo what I spent half the night creating. Conner might be upset with me, but it would break my heart even more to undo it all.
Searching out the back window reveals no sign of Conner. He must’ve gone deep into the woods again. Something he admitted to me he enjoys doing. He’s a man of mystery, but in between all our rolling around in the sheets, he did help me build a vague picture of the man he is.
I’ll miss him.
I’ll miss him a lot.
Fighting tears is impossible. This is the worst Christmas I’ve had since I lost my mom. All I want now is for it to be over. I have a few days before I have to go back to work, but I’ll spend them buried under the covers in my own, lonely bed.
I leave Conner a note, thanking him for putting me up. There’s more I want to say. So much more. But there’s no point. I have to go back to my own reality now, and Conner will stay out here in the mountains in his. We live two very different lives. The sooner I accept that, the sooner I can move on.
I wait for the call from the tow truck then start the half-mile trek to my car to meet him.
CONNER
A note? She left a fucking note?
I crumple the paper in my fist and chuck it across the room. It bounces off an ornament, causing the ceramic decoration to clink against a red ball. My eyes lock onto the still-decorated tree.
My anger softens.
Out in the woods, I had time to calm down. Time to realize that I never explained to Mia why I didn’t do Christmas. Time to realize that she was only trying to preserve the Christmas she was accustomed to, and possibly share it with a Scrooge in the mountains.
Mia has an oversized heart, and I love her for it.
I freeze.
I love her.
The truth has been inside me all along, but I wasn’t ready to listen to what it had to say. I haven’t let another woman ever get this close to me, but Mia belongs with me. I know it as sure as I know my own woods.
My gaze lingers on the front door. What if I’m too late? The tow truck may have come and gone by now. Mia could be back in town. Back in a city too large to track her down.
But I can’t just sit here.
I grab my keys, fire up the old truck, and head down the road.
My heart soars when I see Mia’s car—level now—on the road. She hasn’t left yet. I park the truck and rush over to her running sedan. The tow truck is a quarter mile ahead, driving away. It’s a miracle Mia is still here. A Christmas miracle.
My first instinct is to push aside the nagging voice in my head. But I don’t. In fact, I let it keep talking. My Christmas gift, Mia.
I see brake lights and start to sprint. She’s about to drive away.
“Mia,” I call out. “Mia, stop!”
I make it to her window before the car starts in motion. Just enough time to pat the glass. The car jerks to a halt, then into park. She rolls the window down. “Conner, what are you doing?”
“Come back.”
“What?”
“Come back to the cabin, Mia. I’m sorry.”
She won’t meet my eyes. “I have to get home.”
“You are home.”
Slowly, she turns her head over her shoulder and meets my gaze. “But the tree—”
“I’m sorry I overreacted.”
“I need to leave, Conner.”
She tries to roll up the window with the manual crank, but I clamp my hand down on the opening and prevent her from shutting me out. “I lost my parents on Christmas Eve. That’s why I don’t do Christmas. It’s always been too hard.”
“I’m sorry, Conner. I didn’t know.” Her voice is soft and angelic, filled with empathy.
“It’s my fault. I should’ve told you.” I reach through the window, cupping her cheek with my hand and turn her face toward me. “I love you. Spend Christmas with me, Mia. A real Christmas with decorations and everything.”
“You mean it? No Scrooge tricks?”
I let out a laugh at that. Yes, I suppose I have been an old Scrooge for the better part of a decade. “Maybe you were sent to me to get rid of Scrooge inside me once and for all.”
She’s out of the car and in my arms before I can say another word. Her lips are always so hungry against mine. I’ll never get enough of this woman. Never.
I pull back long enough to say, “Let’s get you out of the cold and into my bed.”
Epilogue
MIA
It’s been four years since I got lost on the way to Benson’s Tree Farm and ended up at Conner’s cabin. Four years, and every Christmas is better than the last.
Though the Benson’s—best neighbors ever, by the way—offer to let us have a free tree every Christmas, Conner and I keep to our tradition of finding one deep in the woods. I pick it out, he chops it down. And we decorate it together.
This year is the most special yet, because our daughter is finally able to help with the ornaments.
“You ready, Jamie?”
Our two-year-old nods enthusiastically, candy cane ornament in hand. Conner lifts her toward the top of the tree so she can hang it. Her giggles are the best sound in the world. “Great job, Jamie.” I give her a wink that makes her giggle even more.
The tree is packed with decorations—both Conner’s collection and mine. Plus the one we’ve started creating together. It’s absolutely perfect.
“What do you think?” Conner asks me when he sets Jamie down on the floor.
I wrap my arms around him, the electric current between us still strong as ever. I can’t wait until Jamie is asleep. I have a certain Santa top I saved just for tonight. I plan to wear it any nothing more. “It’s the best tree we’ve ever had.”
He kisses me deeply, pulling me tight against him. His hard length presses against my belly. “You say that every year.”
“I mean it every year.” I kiss him again, purposely pressing my breasts into his chest. His eyes drop right to my cleavage.
“Tonight, you’re mine,” he growls against my ear. “Tonight, and every night. For the rest of our lives.”
“Promise?”
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