A Naughty Little Christmas

by Lili Valente

  “Good.” I sigh, my heart melting into a gooey puddle on the floorboard of his truck.

  When he pulls into his driveway, I can’t help diving across the seat and climbing into his lap for a kiss. My lips fit perfectly against his, and his tongue strokes into my mouth with a hungry groan, and instantly I’m as eager to eliminate every barrier between us as I was last night.

  But this time we have everything we need to stay safe.

  This time, there won’t be any reason to stop.

  “Inside,” I say when we finally pull apart, both of us breathing faster. “Take me inside.”

  “Are you sure?’ His fingers dig lightly into the waist of my still damp suit beneath my coat. “One hundred percent?”

  “One thousand percent,” I promise as I reach for the door handle. A beat later we’re out of the truck, hurrying across the snow-covered yard.

  And then we’re inside, kissing our way up the stairs to his room, our hands busy with buttons and zippers and damp fabric that clings to chilled skin. But we don’t give up. We coax it free, off arms and down legs and onto the floor until there is nothing between us but skin and heat and a love so real it makes me feel safer than I have in my entire life.

  I guess I should be scared or at least nervous about losing my virginity, but everything Dean and I do together feels so right, so perfect, so hot and lovely that by the time we finally put our first condom to use I feel like I’m flying.

  Soaring. Lifted up on a warm, wonderful wind that I know will never let me down.

  I don’t reach the finish line, so to speak—it’s too uncomfortable the first time—but I don’t care. All I care about is how close I feel to Dean afterward, so close that as we sink into the bath together, I can’t stop smiling.

  Even when Dean tries to bring up telling his mom about my dad running off, I can’t bring myself to get upset.

  “It’s fine,” I say, snuggling closer to his chest in the deliciously hot water. “Stop worrying. I’ve got the situation under control.”

  “I just love you,” Dean says, a catch in his voice. “So much. And I worry.”

  I lift my head, staring deep into his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m so happy, and everything is going to be okay. I promise.” I lean in, kissing the worry from his lips, sighing into his mouth as his hands revisit all the places I love for him to touch me.

  The second time, we christen a towel on the floor of the bathroom, with me on top, moving slow and easy. And as bliss, unlike anything I’ve experienced before pulses through me, taking my breath and every care away, I believe it.

  I believe that everything will be okay, that I will make it through this hard as hell winter with my sister and me still in one piece. Yes, it’s scary, and there are nights I can’t sleep because I’m so worried about the heat getting turned off or how I’m going to pay for groceries.

  But with Dean by my side, I can accomplish anything.

  I can climb mountains, ford rushing rivers, swim across freezing cold lakes and emerge with every finger attached and my heart still beating because Dean and I are in love and there’s nothing love can’t handle.

  I go right on thinking that—through the Christmas holidays and a frigid January when I would have shivered myself to sleep without Dean sneaking into my bedroom at night to keep me warm. I lose weight, and Lynn gets a bad cold that scares me, and Dean and I fight about silly things because I refuse to fight about bigger things, but still I believe.

  I believe and I believe, right up until the day the social worker comes to take Lynn and me away from the only home we’ve ever known.

  Right up until I turn to see Dean watching from his front porch with an expression so guilty I know I’ve been betrayed, and that love isn’t so tough after all.

  It’s not strong or safe. And now, neither am I.

  Chapter 2

  Ten Years Later…

  From the texts of Macy Clayton

  and Olivia Page

  Olivia: Hey, mama! I just got your email. I’m so glad you’re coming to town, and I would normally be THRILLED to host you for a few days. But when I moved into the house last week, I found out the electrical grid is shot. I keep waking up freezing my ass off. I don’t want to freeze yours off, too, but there’s no way I’m getting a repairman out to fix the grid before January 2nd. You know everyone in this town is too busy having fun during the holidays to actually function.

  Macy: I know, but I don’t mind the cold. I can bring wool socks and extra sweaters and help keep the fire lit all night.

  Olivia: No, no, no. I can’t expose a guest to such inhospitable conditions. My inner hosting perfectionist would never allow it. Not to mention my inner neat freak. Old Vic is tidier than it was a few days ago, but there’s still a lot of work to do before it’s clean enough for company.

  Macy: Liv, you know I don’t care about things like that. I just want to give you a big hug and catch up on all your news.

  Olivia: I want that, too, but…

  Well, I have to confess I can’t find Sir-Licks-a-Lot.

  Macy: Dare I ask?

  Olivia: Sir-Licks-a-Lot is Kelly’s pet skink. He escaped his cage at some point before I moved in. He’s probably dead, the poor thing, but he could also be not dead. In which case, there may be a giant lizard loose in my house…

  A lizard with big teeth, who allegedly only eats invertebrates, but who knows what he might decide to eat if he’s really hungry? And if you’re devoured by a giant lizard while under my care, I’ll never forgive myself.

  Macy: I doubt I would be devoured, but I agree that a giant lizard is a deal breaker. I’ve got a reptile phobia. Reptiles and rodents and basically anything smaller than a dog but bigger than a ladybug.

  Olivia: I remember that. And I mean, Sir-Licks-a-Lot is larger than a lot of small dog breeds, but I don’t think that would make running into him in the bathtub any more appealing.

  Macy: Not even a little bit.

  Olivia: I’m sorry! I feel like the worst friend/pet inheritor ever. If Kelly’s looking down on me from the great beyond, I hope she can find it in her heart to forgive me for failing her lizard child.

  Macy: Of course she forgives you. And you are not the worst friend ever. You’re a total sweetheart, so don’t waste another minute worrying about this. I’ll find a hotel, and we’ll catch up when you have time.

  How are you holding up? Still glad you left the big city?

  Olivia: I’m insanely thrilled to be out of Chicago, and I’m holding up…okay, all things considering. But it’s hard, sometimes. Everything reminds me of Kelly—the decor and the dishes and every piece of art on every wall. The airline lost my luggage, so I’ve even been wearing her clothes.

  Macy: I’m so sorry, honey. I still can’t believe she’s gone.

  Olivia: Me, either. I keep expecting to see her walk in the door to the house or call to ask me to meet her at the bar for a beer. The entire town is haunted, you know?

  Macy: I do. Ghosts all over that place. That’s one of the reasons I make my home over a thousand miles away in a city where the sun always shines.

  Olivia: But you miss the snow. Admit it. The mountains are in your blood, girl. There have been Clayton’s here since before Lover’s Leap had electricity.

  Macy: Nope. I have sea spray in my blood these days.

  Swimming pools and movie stars, all the way.

  Olivia: And smog and traffic. L.A. isn’t all roses and sunshine. Kelly lived there for a summer after she graduated. She said the commute to her internship at the auction house was soul-crushing.

  Macy: The traffic is bad. That’s true. And it’s hard to get in the Christmas spirit when it’s still warm enough to go running in a tank top.

  Olivia: That’s why you should extend your stay here! I’ve got it all figured out. Daisy’s friend Sarah is overseas on business until the end of January, and she said it’s totally cool for you to stay at her cabin for the month. You can come home, settle in, and enjoy the holidays
. We can eat all the pie, do some sledding on our favorite hill behind the elementary school, and have loads of time to catch up before you head back to L.A. rested and refreshed by all the clean mountain air. Doesn’t that sound amazing?

  Macy: That was so sweet of you to find me a place, Liv, but I can’t stay for a month. I have clients who will freak out if I’m gone for that long.

  Olivia: No, they won’t. You can get your trainees to cover your appointments and tell your clients it’s good for their mindfulness practice to be flexible in the face of changing plans.

  Macy: LOL. Rich people don’t enjoy changing plans unless they’re the ones who decide to change them. They want their massage and guided meditation from yours truly, and I can’t really complain about that. Delivering an experience they can’t get from just anyone is what keeps me in business.

  Olivia: But you said yourself that the practice is getting too big for you to run alone. That’s why you’re training massage and meditation minions. It’s time to let the minions off the bench, baby. Let them show you what they’ve learned while you come home. Lover’s Leap isn’t the same without you.

  Macy: I’ve been gone for a long time, Liv. I haven’t been back since high school. It doesn’t feel like home to me. Not anymore.

  Olivia: You don’t mean that! I can tell. You just need to focus on the good things that happened here, Macy, and let the sad memories go. I know it’s hard, but it’s possible. I promise. I’m doing it, and you can, too. And once you get past the bad stuff, you’re left with a town full of people who know you and love you in a way that’s priceless. There aren’t many communities like ours left in the world, hon. Lover’s Leap is special.

  Macy: You’re special, Liv, and I promise I’ll come for a nice long visit sometime soon, but this time around I’ve only got two days. I get in on Thursday, meet the lawyer on Friday morning, and fly out Friday night.

  Olivia: No! That’s not nearly long enough! How are we going to have time to catch up? I’ve got a Business Owner’s Association meeting I can’t miss on Thursday night, no matter how much I want to. I need to get plugged in and figure out how to make the shop profitable before it goes under. You know Kelly was way better at buying fun things to sell than she was actually selling them.

  Macy: I know. But I have faith in you. You’re a smart, determined cookie. And we can have lunch Friday before I head back to Denver to catch my plane. My flight isn’t until almost nine p.m., so we’ve got time.

  Olivia: Lunch. Harrumph. Lunch is not nearly enough.

  Lunch is dinner’s sadder, shorter, wine-free sister.

  Macy: LOL. We can totally have wine with lunch, woman. You need to let your hair down and embrace being a grown-up who doesn’t have a nine-to-five job anymore.

  Olivia: True… I keep forgetting I don’t have to go back to the office after lunch if I don’t want to.

  Macy: Speaking of offices, I’d better head back to mine. I’ve got two more clients, and I still have to get home and pack for my flight tomorrow morning.

  Olivia: Well, at least let me get you set up to stay at Sarah’s house on Thursday night. It’s the least I can do.

  Macy: I don’t want to impose, or have you go to all that trouble. I’ll just get a room at one of the hotels.

  Olivia: Are you sure? I don’t mind, and I want you to feel like you’re coming home, not just for a visit.

  Macy: But it’s not home for me, honey. And that’s okay. I still love you every bit as much, no matter what I think about Lover’s Leap.

  Olivia: All right. I will allow this. For now. But I know that you’re going to want to come home eventually. How else am I ever going to learn to meditate? You know my brain is a hot mess.

  Macy: Your brain is hot fun. Like a plate of warm brownies.

  Let’s have some of those with our lunch, huh?

  Olivia: Absolutely. See you soon, sweetie. And don’t worry, Lover’s Leap is going to give you a warm welcome, there’s no doubt in my mind.

  Macy: Hugs. See you soon.

  Chapter 3

  Macy

  The last dregs of Wednesday fly by, my morning flight to Denver passes in a blur, and all too soon I find myself parking my rental car outside the Fish and Bicycle Café and Brewpub and snagging a table near the windows at the back.

  I’m here. Really here. Back in Lover’s Leap after ten long years.

  It’s surreal.

  Lover’s fucking Leap. Never has a name been more depressingly accurate. Dear Olivia is deluded when it comes to this town. It isn’t paradise in the Rockies; it’s a place where love goes to die—literally.

  “Officer, my heart has hurled itself off a cliff and sees no reason to get up,” I mumble into my coffee cup, staring broodily out the window at the people scurrying about downtown, hustling to get errands completed before the freak snowstorm the weather service started warning about this morning gets any worse.

  If I lean forward, I can catch a glimpse of the rocky pinnacle in the distance through the swirling snow, the sharp outcrop of the town’s namesake jutting out from the surrounding mountains.

  These days, the Lover’s Leap historical site is a tourist destination for rock climbers. A hundred and fifty years ago, it was the location of a double suicide. Dolly Hunt and her lover, Sal Newman—a female fur trapper with a heart of gold and a weak spot for pretty young socialites—leaped to their deaths after Dolly’s brothers tried to kill Sal during a bar brawl. The note the women left behind professed that they would rather die together than live in a world that didn’t realize love was all that mattered.

  There’s a plaque with their suicide letter inscribed on it at the summit.

  I know most people find this story inspiring—albeit in a sad way. But for me, my hometown’s namesake is a sobering reminder that love makes people do stupid, dangerous things. Especially here, in this picturesque place where heart-stopping natural beauty and an adorable main drag do such a good job of glossing over the uglier parts of life.

  The tourists don’t see it, of course. The tourists stay on the ski slopes or on quaint and funky Evergreen Lane. They see the charming surface: the unique shops, the cozy eateries, the crystal-clear river burbling by, and the epic views of pristine wilderness sweeping away from downtown as the Rocky Mountains stop playing nice and start showing off. They don’t see the people in the surrounding rural wilderness living hand to mouth. The parents who drink too much because their seasonal jobs have gone out of season and the kids waiting for school to start up after Christmas so they can count on steady meals.

  The teenagers saving every penny so they can get a decent set of wheels and get the hell out of town before they take a crazy leap…

  I was one of those kids, those teens. It was a hard-knock life in the Clayton house from day one, but it wasn’t until my best friend betrayed me that I became one of the bitter and love-less in Lover’s Leap.

  Dean Roberts.

  Just thinking his name is enough to make my coffee churn in my stomach.

  Dean, the boy next door, the friend who was like a big brother to me until the day he became so much more. Until the day he kissed me on his back porch after Thanksgiving dinner and the entire world lit up in vivid, heart-stopping color.

  He kissed me until I knew what it felt like to burn, to need in a way I hadn’t understood you could need someone before that perfect afternoon. I’d fallen in love head first, without a second thought for the safety of my heart.

  At fifteen, I’d had no doubt that Dean could be trusted with every part of me—the good, the bad, the beautiful, the sad, and everything in between.

  Now I’m twenty-five. Ten long years have passed since my first, painful lesson in betrayal, and I’ve learned the only things a girl can count on are bills, taxes, L.A. traffic sucking all the ass, and people letting you down.

  Even Lynn, my true-blue ally, dropped the ball on me this time.

  Lynn was supposed to have made this trip. My sister was looking forward to seei
ng her Lover’s Leap friends and collecting the things our dad left us in his will—a box of family memorabilia he snagged from our cabin before the bank foreclosed a few years ago. Olivia is the only person in town I’ve kept in touch with, but Lynn has an on-going group text chain with a gang of local women her age. They get together at least once a year to drink too much wine and gossip, and Lynn was giddy with excitement over the chance to see her besties again before their next meet-up in June.

  But at the last minute, her boss sent her to fill in for a sick colleague at a drug rep conference. Now she’s somewhere in Orange County talking up an allergy medicine guaranteed to keep your sinuses clean and clear, while I slog my way through this town filled with so many bittersweet memories I felt compelled to add three extra sugars to my coffee.