Christmas Kisses: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 1)

by Lucy McConnell

  Chelsea laughed. Jessica always said Chayton’s full name like he was some kind of megastar. “It’s pretty glamorous, let me tell you,” she said as she wiped the cheese off her chin.

  MONDAY MORNING CAME TOO SOON as Chelsea had spent most of the weekend dreaming about Drew and wondering if she should let Jessica make her over before he came back into town. No, he’d think she’d lost her mind if he saw her all dolled up then he’d call her his buddy and ask if she wanted to play basketball.

  Chelsea looked around the gym as boys filed into her first hour class. She thought as a female physical education teacher the majority of her classes would be filled with females. She’d been proven wrong the first year. Most girls only did the minimum requirement for physical education, not wanting to get sweaty and then have to get ready again during their school day. But the boys took multiple classes and she’d heard more than one rumor about boys who took her classes because she was “hot.” So weird. She couldn’t remember ever checking out a teacher when she was in school, but these students seemed to think they had the right to check out anyone and everyone.

  “Hi, Ms. Jamison,” Gabe called out to her, his group of football cronies flanking him as they all strutted in like they owned the gym.

  “Good morning, Gabe.”

  “It’s always good when the view is this nice.” His eyes traveled up and down her body.

  Chelsea’s eyes narrowed and the smile slid off her face. “Why don’t you all take a couple of laps to warm up?”

  “I’m already warm, being around a woman as smoking hot as you,” Gabe said.

  “Gabe, I will write you up if you don’t zip it.”

  He winked and ran off. Gabe’s cronies followed their leader, guffawing and casting her veiled looks. Sometimes teaching felt like being in high school all over again. Chelsea shuddered and folded her arms over her chest.

  Mason Turner, a tall boy with broad shoulders and longish strawberry-blond hair, walked into the gym. “Good morning, Ms. Jamison.”

  “Mason. How are you?”

  “Okay.” He nodded, but his bright blue eyes revealed a sadness that ripped at her. He was such a handsome boy, but his lack of money was obvious by the old lacrosse t-shirt and sweats he wore to gym. His clothes during the rest of the school day weren’t much better. She knew he worked after lacrosse practices and on weekends at Jack’s Pizza Shack to help his mom take care of his little sisters and be able to pay his sports fees. His house was only a few blocks away from hers and she’d heard more than one neighbor gossiping about Mason’s bum of a stepdad who was stealing all of the money Mason’s mom received from the Veteran’s Widow Benefits because Mason’s dad was killed in action. The guy forced her to clean Kenworth’s at nights to pay for his alcohol tab, and she’d heard rumors about illegal fighting rings as well.

  “How are you?” Mason asked, courteous as ever.

  “Great, thank you.”

  “Run a few laps?” he guessed with a half-smile.

  “Always.”

  He jogged off and the few female students in the class quickly joined him, vying for one of his smiles. Chelsea was grateful the girls knew a great guy when they saw one and didn’t fall prey to Gabe’s lewd suggestions.

  “Why does he always have a harem of women following him?” One of Gabe’s followers asked as they ran past.

  “Because they think lacrosse is cooler than football,” Gabe muttered.

  “No, because he’s nice to everyone,” Chelsea said after Gabe and his buddies were too far away to hear.

  “Am I nice to everyone?”

  Chelsea turned and smiled at Chayton. He was a nice guy and so much fun to tease. “Unless you’re carrying a lacrosse stick.”

  “You have to give me a pass when I’m on the field.”

  “Sure, just keep me safely in the stands.” Chelsea shivered remembering the alumni game she’d watched Chayton participate in last spring. He’d knocked so many people down with his long stick she wondered how they dared try to get around him. He’d assured her he just played body defense and it was perfectly legal on the field. She’d taken to teasing him about how vicious he was. “Why aren’t you teaching this morning?”

  “My prep got moved to first hour.” Chayton shrugged and smiled.

  “So you’re going to come hang out with me every morning? Well, that’s awkward.”

  He laughed. “It wouldn’t be awkward if you’d go to dinner with me this weekend.”

  “Yeah, that would be more awkward.” Chelsea smiled to show him she was teasing. Chayton was one of the greatest guys she knew. He taught history and coached the boys’ lacrosse team. He had a doctorate and should be teaching at the university level but he loved infusing his passion for history into the high school students. To supplement his income, he organized history tours throughout the summer and charged wealthy people to learn from his expertise. He was extremely good-looking with a Native American flare of high cheekbones, gorgeous skin, and flowing black hair, but Chelsea knew he just liked to tease her and really had no intention of asking her out. Story of her life.

  “Dinner with me would be awkward?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

  She shuffled her feet and wished her students would run faster. Awkward wasn’t the right word, but crossing that line from friendship to something more was scary.

  “Can you at least promise to chaperone the Christmas Ball with me?”

  Chelsea thought for a minute, a crowded gym full of teenagers, who would notice if their teachers got too friendly. The Christmas Ball sounded non-threatening, except it was the same weekend Drew was supposed to return. She forced that thought from her mind. She wasn’t going to wait around hoping Drew would come back and sweep her off her feet. “Sure.”

  “And dinner at The Overlook before?”

  Chelsea took a long breath and looked into his dark eyes. “Chayton, are you serious?”

  “Serious as Joan of Arc. Please?”

  She moistened her lips. What did she have to lose? Well, she might mess up a great friendship with Chayton, or miss out on an opportunity with Drew. Yeah, right, Drew was never going to ask her on a real date. “I’d love to,” she squeaked through a suddenly dry throat.

  He grinned and turned from her. “Hey, Mason,” he called out as Mason and the girls ran past.

  “Coach,” Mason greeted him.

  “Listen to this pretty lady, she’ll whip you into shape for the season,” Chayton told him.

  “I will.”

  “See you at lunch,” Chayton whispered as he walked past Chelsea.

  Chelsea sighed, not sure if she was excited or apprehensive about taking the next step with Chayton. She watched his lean form stride from the gym.

  “Somebody’s got a crush on Dr. Leichty,” Gabe said behind her. “If I grow my hair out and pick up a lacrosse stick, will you meet me for lunch?”

  “That’s enough, Gabe.” Chelsea raised her voice. “Okay, class, bring it in.” She waited for the group to form a close circle then called out. “We’ll begin with fifty burpees.”

  Groans rose throughout the room. Chelsea smiled, but after joining them in the burpees she wished she hadn’t been so hasty to close Gabe’s mouth.

  MASON WAS ONE OF THE FEW STUDENTS who stayed on campus for lunch. He couldn’t afford to eat off campus like his friends and because of the money his mom received from the government he’d never qualified for free lunch. Not that he would’ve taken it anyway, that would be humiliating.

  He pulled a peanut butter sandwich from his worn backpack and sank down onto a chair in his teacher’s classroom. Coach Liechty would be back soon and they could talk about their favorite subject, lacrosse.

  A dry mouthful of peanut butter and his mom’s homemade bread went down his throat like a lump of mud. Honey was too expensive and they’d run out of the jam his mom made from their berry patch a few weeks ago. At least he had lunch. Mason couldn’t remember many times when he hadn’t been hungry. His mom tried r
eally hard to keep food on the table, but between his stepdad, Beau’s, credit card bills, vodka addiction, and the entrance fees for fighting with an illegal MMA circuit, it was hard for her to keep up with Mason’s huge appetite.

  Mason allowed himself to fantasize for a minute about the different times he’d eaten at one of his lacrosse buddies’ houses. Most of his friends’ parents offered to feed him when he visited and they always had meat. He craved meat. His favorite place to eat was Jed’s house. He lived up by the Ice Money and his dad loved to barbecue everything from salmon to steak. Mason drooled just thinking about it and forced himself to eat another bite of his sandwich.

  Mason always made it a point to tell his friends’ parents thank you and do anything he could to help them out: playing with younger siblings, hauling in groceries, clearing the table, and picking up after his friends who always seemed to leave lacrosse gear or dirty socks lying around. More than one parent had told him he was welcome anytime. If only he had more time to go visit his friends, the food was amazing. It was a battle for him to not just consume. He didn’t want to look like a vagrant and he really didn’t want his mom to hear from someone that he acted like a starving man. She already went without too many times to make sure he and his sisters had enough food.

  The door swung open. His greeting for his coach froze when he saw it was Kaitlyn Johanson. With wavy blonde hair and navy blue eyes, she looked like his sisters’ favorite princess, Cinderella. Kaitlyn was definitely a princess in their town— her dad owned ski resorts and restaurants, including the pizza parlor Mason worked in. She was so far out of Mason’s reach it wasn’t even funny, but for some reason she sought him out and he loved every stilted conversation.

  “Hi, Mason.” She smiled in that way he loved that was uniquely Kaitlyn, a huge grin then she almost shyly pulled the side of her bottom lip between her teeth and dipped her head. That lip between her teeth always killed him. What he wouldn’t give to be able to take her on a date and feel like he was worthy to walk her up the front steps of her huge house and give her a kiss goodnight.

  “Oh, hey.” He shoved the sandwich back into his backpack, licking his lips quick to make sure there weren’t any crumbs on them. “Coach isn’t here.”

  She grinned. “I don’t get the privilege of calling him Coach. Have to call him Dr. Liechty.” She walked a few steps closer to him. “Are you excited for the season?”

  “Can’t wait.” The break in lacrosse between November and February was drudgery, but it was a good opportunity to work extra hours and save up so he could afford equipment and travel costs with the team.

  “Why don’t you play indoor?”

  “I don’t like box as much.” Such a lie, but he would never explain his awful financial situation to Kaitlyn.

  She picked at the corner of a wooden desk for a few seconds before asking, “Are you going to the Christmas Ball?”

  Mason inhaled sharply. If only he could say, yes, and I’m taking you. It hit him again how far apart their worlds were and what a complete and total loser he was. “Naw. You?”

  “Gabe asked me.”

  No. Anyone but Gabe. Gabe lived up by Kaitlyn on the hill and always bragged that their families vacationed together. Mason had begged a couple of his close friends to ask her before something like this happened, but they apparently hadn’t jumped on it quick enough.

  “Oh, yeah. What did you say?” His voice squeaked. Mason wished a truck would hit him. Here he was with the most beautiful girl in the school, hiding his peanut butter sandwich and the hole in the toe of the Sanuks he’d found at Goodwill, and wishing with everything in him that he could take her to the dance.

  “I haven’t answered him yet,” Kaitlyn said. “I didn’t know if you might want to go…”

  Mason swallowed hard. “Yeah, I really can’t. My mom has to work and my little sisters need me.”

  “Oh.”

  The disappointment in her blue eyes about ripped him apart, but how could he ask her to ride in his piece of junk car, not go to a fancy dinner before, and go to the dance with a boy who didn’t own anything better than ripped up Levi’s?

  Coach Leichty walked in right then and Kaitlyn asked him some questions about American History. Mason sat miserably, wishing for a new life.

  THE NEXT WEEK AND A HALF petered by until Chelsea got a text from Drew Wednesday after basketball practice.

  I worked it out to come back into town sooner than I thought. Can I pick you up for some basketball?

  Sure.

  Can’t wait.

  Me neither.

  And she couldn’t. Sure it wasn’t a formal date, but basketball was always fun and hanging out with Drew again was an answer to dreams she’d had for the past six years, or more accurately, dreams she’d had since she realized Drew was a boy and boys really didn’t have cooties. She hurried home, showered, and put on clean workout clothes. It was silly, but she didn’t want to stink before they even started playing the game. She ate a string cheese and apple, impatiently waiting for Drew. He hadn’t said a specific time. Should she text back and ask or would that make her look desperate? She grabbed the latest Lucy McConnell novel and sank onto her couch, quickly becoming engrossed in the story about a billionaire falling in love with his bride when the doorbell rang. She jumped and hurried to the door.

  Drew leaned against the doorframe dressed in a t-shirt and silky shorts. He’d looked amazing in a suit, but this attire appealed to Chelsea more, especially the way his shoulders filled out the t-shirt and his muscular calves were revealed by the shorts.

  “You do know it’s twenty degrees outside and snowing?” she asked.

  “Perfect weather for shorts.” He pumped his eyebrows. “I heard you know a beautiful girl who has a key to the high school gym.”

  Chelsea couldn’t hide her smile. “She has a key, but she’s kind of a plain Jane, lives in spandex and t-shirts.”

  “Spandex is nothing to complain about.”

  She laughed and swung the door wider. “Come in and I’ll grab my keys and a sweatshirt. You want one?” She opened the entry closet and grabbed the keys from her purse and a sweatshirt.

  “Don’t think I’d fit in your sweatshirt.”

  “If you did I might have to go on a diet.” He held the front door and she walked onto the porch.

  Drew’s brow furrowed. He gestured to her with his hand. “Don’t ever do that. You’re perfect.”

  “Thanks,” Chelsea murmured, her face reddening.

  He opened the door of his Audi sport utility and assisted her in. She couldn’t hide her grin as he walked around to the driver’s side. Drew was still a gentleman like he’d always been in high school, but unlike high school, he thought she looked perfect.

  Drew put the vehicle into gear, spun a u-turn, and headed toward the high school.

  Chelsea slid her hand down the leather armrest. It was interesting how safe she felt in this nice car driving through the snowstorm, or maybe she just felt safe with Drew. “Wow. Being a financial planner has some perks.”

  Drew shrugged. “It’s gone well.”

  Chelsea suddenly remembered someone saying Drew and his sister, Darcee, had gotten huge life insurance checks when their parents had been killed. She sucked in air, feeling heartbroken for him. Money could never compensate for being without your parents. Lack of money wasn’t a huge issue in her life, but she’d never be driving a vehicle like this on a teacher’s salary. Not that she cared. It was just another affirmation that she and Drew lived in different economic and social stratospheres.

  They arrived at the high school, dribbling and shooting for a few minutes to get warm.

  “Wow.” Drew whistled. “Still got that pretty arch to your shot, I see.”

  “Like you remember my shot.”

  “I remember more about you than you know.”

  Chelsea’s face filled with color. Why did it feel like Drew was flirting with her? He’d never been like that in high school or the times she’d s
een him during breaks from college for the two years after they graduated. Then his parents had been killed in a horrible traffic accident and he hadn’t come home for six long years. With his looks and his money, he’d likely been hunted by the most beautiful women the city had to offer. He probably didn’t know how to interact without flirting. It didn’t mean anything.

  “Ready to play?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  The game started out innocently enough until Chelsea sank two three-pointers and was ahead by eight. Drew started getting really physical and wouldn’t give her any space. He grabbed her arm as she went to shoot.

  “Foul!” she cried out.

  “I’ll show you a foul.” He reached in and tickled her until she dropped the ball. He retrieved it and dribbled in for an easy layup.

  “Those points don’t count and I’m getting foul shots.”

  Drew arched his eyebrows. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

  “No need to pretend. I never like cheaters.”

  “Ha.” Drew dribbled the ball up to her, continuing to dribble as he encroached on her personal space, not that she minded. “You like everything about me.”

  “Oh, yeah, pretty rich boy who cheats. I definitely like everything about you.”

  Drew’s eyes reflected a bit of hurt. Chelsea ignored that, swept the ball out from him, and dribbled into the hoop. She arched up to shoot, releasing the ball. The ball swished through the hoop. Drew wrapped his arms around her from behind and spun her to face him.

  “I’ve never cheated,” he said.

  “Ha!” Chelsea laughed, but the flippant mood disappeared as he held her.

  Time seemed to slow down. Drew slowly pulled her closer, his strong arms controlling her movement. The way he concentrated those brown sugar eyes on her made it impossible for Chelsea to catch a full breath.

  The gym door burst open and she jumped from his embrace.

  “Hey, I wondered who was in here.” Chayton strode toward them. His voice was pleasant, but the look he gave Drew could’ve barbecued a steak.