A Naughty Little Christmas

by Lili Valente

  She lays a hand on my shoulder. “But that isn’t your fault, Dean. You made the choices you had to make to keep your business afloat. No matter how tenderhearted you are, sometimes you have to put your own needs first.”

  “You’re right, but…” I trail off, not liking how selfish that sounds.

  “No buts,” she says firmly. “You have an obligation to take care of yourself. You can’t take care of anyone else if you don’t.”

  “You really think so?”

  She nods. “I do. And…” She draws in a breath, holding it for a beat before letting it out long and slow. “And looking back, I can see where you were coming from when you called Child Protective Services. I was leaning on you too much, making you shoulder a load that wasn’t fair to you. You had your own priorities, your own life.”

  I shift to face her, shaking my head. “No, Macy. It wasn’t about that. I swear, it was never about that. If I could have taken care of you and Lynn, I would have kept your secret. To the grave. But when I looked in the mirror and got real with myself…” I take her hands, cradling them in mine, praying she can feel how much I mean every word. “I knew I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have the time or the skill or the earning power to be who you needed me to be.”

  “I only needed you to be yourself,” she whispers. “To be my friend, my boyfriend. And to trust me.”

  I wince. “You’re right. I should have talked to you about asking for help. Even if you’d refused to see reason, and I’d ended up calling CPS against your wishes anyway, I owed you honesty. I’m sorry, Macy, I truly am.”

  “I accept your apology.” Her lips curve, slowly and tentatively at first, but eventually, her smile takes hold of her features, stealing my breath away. Because it’s not just any grin—it’s a smile that says, “I forgive you” and maybe even “I still care about you.” It’s exactly what I’ve been hoping for, and I’m so happy I can’t resist the urge to pull her into my lap. “Now you,” I say, cradling her close. “Tell me more of your news. I want to get caught up on everything I missed.”

  “Well, I guess we should start with high school, then,” she says in a lighter voice. “I lettered in bowling and chess. Bet you didn’t know you could letter in chess, did you?”

  I gasp in faux surprise. “No. You don’t say. What a magnificent nerd you were.”

  She nods, lifting her nose imperiously. “Oh yes, I was. And I was captain of my Quiz Bowl team, too. Aunt Maggie would only let Lynn and I stay after school for clubs that weren’t ‘violent or sweaty’ so…”

  I laugh. “Violent or sweaty? Really?”

  Macy shrugs. “She was old-fashioned. And old. And she had a thing about sweat stains on her furniture that was just plain weird. Her couch from the 1970s still had the original plastic on it. But she took Lynn and I in when no else would, so she’ll always have a special place in my heart. And my nerdy resume was great for my college applications.”

  “Nursing.” I nod. “So, do you miss it at all?”

  “I miss learning about the body, but I always had a gut feeling that I’d made the wrong choice. It was upsetting to spend so much time around sick people,” she says, filling me in on how she now uses her knowledge of anatomy and physiology in her massage practice, helping people deal with chronic pain.

  “So I don’t consider the time spent getting my degree wasted.” She pops a cashew into her mouth as she rolls her eyes. “Though Lynn thought I was insane at the time, bailing six months into what could have been a lucrative career with all my training already paid for.”

  “But there’s no sense putting off a decision like that. When you know something’s wrong, you just know. It’s like when you know something’s right.” I search her face. “It’s…undeniable.”

  Macy brushes the hair from my forehead before resting her palm on my cheek. “Like tonight,” she says, confirming that she’s feeling the way I am, like we’re finally on the right path after years wandering lost. “I can’t remember the last time something felt so right.”

  “Me, either.” I lean into her touch. “The only wrong thing is that I missed out on ten years of your life. I hate that.”

  “Me, too, but we’re going to excel at making up for lost time. I can tell.” She kisses me softly before she adds, “Fair warning, since we don’t have toothbrushes, once we go to sleep, I’m going to have to cut off the kiss supply until we’re rescued. I don’t enjoy sharing the magic of my morning breath with others.”

  I grunt as I thread my fingers into her hair. “I don’t care about morning breath. I like your breath any way I can get it.”

  “Well, I do care,” she says, smiling. “So this is your last chance, Roberts. Get the kissing out of your system before we go to sleep so you can survive until we locate toothbrushes sometime tomorrow.”

  “All right,” I say, with a put-upon sigh. “But I won’t be rushed, Clayton. I intend to kiss you until I’ve had my fill.”

  “Is that a threat or a promise?” The challenge in her voice drives me wild.

  “Always a promise with you, sugarplum.” I guide her legs to either side of my hips. I came less than fifteen minutes ago, but I’m already hard again. Hard and dying to be as close to Macy as two people can get. “Now, take off your clothes so I can kiss the rest of you good night, too.”

  “So bossy.” She tsks at me with a wink and then gives me exactly what I’m asking for.

  By the time we collapse onto the pile of pillows half an hour later, I don’t bother rolling over to put on all of my clothes.

  I’m burning up from the inside out, my blood pumping so fast it’s hard to believe I’ll ever be cold again.

  And as I drift off to sleep, Macy’s head on my shoulder, I vow to do whatever it takes to keep this red-hot woman close to my side, and in my bed, from here on out.

  Chapter 12

  Macy

  Last night was so magical, so perfect, that I almost don’t mind waking up freezing cold, with my hip numb from sleeping on the floor, and a giant rat sitting on the plate I used for dinner last night, eating the Fritos I left behind with a judgmental look on his face.

  I almost don’t mind.

  And I almost don’t scream.

  But then Tom Hanks starts to grind his teeth, making a creepy as hell squeaking, scraping sound, and I end up shouting right into poor sleeping Dean’s ear.

  “Wha’ happened? Wha’s up?” He bolts upright, lifting his fists in front of his face. “Where’s the monkey?” He blinks, cringing as the cold air hits his bare skin. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

  I come up onto my knees, patting his back. “Sorry. Yes, it’s freezing. Having some strange dreams, there?”

  “Totally weird,” he confirms, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “The evil flying monkeys took you to the witch’s castle to hold you prisoner. But then one of them switched sides and was trying to help me get through the haunted forest so I could find you. But then all of a sudden, the witch popped out from behind a tree and screamed in my ear, and I woke up.”

  “Sorry again.” I wince, pointing over his shoulder. “I was trying not to scream, but then Tom Hanks started doing something weird with his teeth.” As if the rat understands what I’m saying, Tom takes up the jaw-sliding, teeth-grinding business all over again.

  I shudder. “There! That. What does that mean? Is he trying to call me out? Does he want to rumble behind the ranger station after school or something?”

  Dean’s laugh transforms to a sharply inhaled breath as he stands, his blanket falling to the floor at his feet. “Damn. It has to be colder in here than it is outside.” Shoulders hunched against the chill, he crosses to the fireplace wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs and reaches down to scoop the rat into his hands. “And no, Tom wasn’t trying to call you out. Rats grind their teeth when they’re happy. Or upset. Or scared.”

  “Oh.” I draw my knees into my chest. “Well, he was eating stale Fritos. So, I guess he was happy at first?”

  “And then y
ou screamed like a zombie was gnawing your face off, and he probably got freaked out.” Dean deposits the rat into the glass cage next to Meg Ryan, who looks a little judgmental, too. Maybe she isn’t down with her man eating stale Fritos for breakfast. Or maybe she wishes Tom had brought some back to the cage for a morning snack.

  Or maybe she’s just cranky because it’s really, really cold in here.

  I slip my sweater on over my bra and leggings and scoot closer to the fire. “We shouldn’t have let this go out.” I poke the ashes, relieved to see the glow of live coals just beneath the surface. “Or we should have at least slept in all of our clothes.”

  “But that would have involved standing up and putting them back on.” Dean fetches kindling while I wad fresh newspaper into balls and toss them onto the coals. “I don’t know about you, but by the time we passed out last night I didn’t have that much energy left. You wore me out, woman.”

  I shoot him a wicked grin. “Clearly you need more cardio in your workout regimen. Luckily, I’ve got a great personal trainer. Her program has whipped me into the best shape of my life. I’ll write out all the details for you, and we’ll have you going all night in no time.”

  “Sounds like something worth exercising for.” He crouches down next to me, kissing the top of my head before reaching out to arrange the kindling over the sparking paper. “And maybe if I save my pennies, I can afford to hire you to rub the knots out after, Miss Masseuse to the Stars.”

  “Not all of my clients are Hollywood types,” I say, the thought of getting back to the office not nearly as exciting as it usually is.

  I love my work, but I don’t like the idea of being a thousand miles away from Dean. Not today or tomorrow or on Monday morning when I absolutely have to be back in L.A. for Geneva Tibbots’s private meditation session or the aging starlet will have a nuclear meltdown on my voicemail.

  The woman needs Zen in a major way, but the jury’s still out on whether or not she’s ever going to get there.

  “A lot of them are just normal people.” I force a smile, determined not to dwell on the fact that I’m leaving Lover’s Leap—and Dean—until I absolutely have to. No need to ruin today fretting about tomorrow. “And I have a sliding scale. People who can’t afford top tier pricing get a discount, and friends are always free.”

  He shakes his head. “Not a chance. I want to pay. At the very least, we can work out a barter system. One massage session in exchange for an all-expense-paid camping trip to Cherry Creek once the snow thaws. I found an incredible place over there. Views of the lake, right near a fishing hole with an amazing fire pit.”

  “That doesn’t sound very fair.” I grab two of the smaller pieces of firewood and pass them to Dean.

  “Okay, two camping trips.” He angles the wood so that the kindling can work its magic. “Or three. I’m easy.”

  I laugh. “No! I meant on my end. You should get more than one session. Ideally, we would do two sessions a week for three weeks. That would be enough to free up any chronic discomfort and start increasing your flexibility with a few exercises I’ll give you to do on the days when you’re not having a treatment. Big muscles are all well and good, but you’re going to be at increased risk for injury if you don’t bulk up evenly and incorporate more stretching into your daily routine. I mean, you’re lovely to look at, but I am noticing a decreased range of motion in your shoulders.”

  He turns back to me, grabbing the discarded blankets and wrapping them around both of us with a grin. “You’re sexy when you talk about my decreased range of motion.”

  I laugh, huddling close to stay warm until the fire starts giving off heat. “I know. I’m a huge nerd about this stuff. Feel free to tell me to shut up anytime. I can stop if I try.”

  “No way! I love that you’ve found something you’re passionate about. And I’m really interested. You’re right, I’ve been stuck in the same rut at the gym for years, and I know I haven’t been stretching enough.”

  “You’ll be amazed what massage therapy and a few PT exercises can do for you,” I say, my excitement building. “I’ve seen people transformed after just a week or two, pain they’ve carried around for years fading away like magic. That’s one of the things that makes my job so satisfying. I love seeing my clients filled with hope for the future instead of dreading another day waking up in a body that’s not in balance.”

  “That’s how I feel about my job.” Dean nods. “Like I could spend the rest of my life exploring these mountains and never see everything they have to offer—and sure as hell never get bored.”

  I lean against him with a happy sigh. “It is so beautiful up here. I can’t believe I stayed away for so long.”

  “Just don’t stay gone as long this time,” he says gruffly, hugging me closer. “Or I’ll have to start stripping again to save up money to get an apartment in L.A. and come visit you when the tourists are scarce around here.”

  It’s a sweet thing to say, but the thought of Dean in L.A. makes me sad.

  Dean is a child of these mountains. He belongs in the woods with the trees and the animals, the fresh air and the cool breezes. L.A., with its smog and traffic and obsessive focus on the superficial, would drive him crazy.

  Hell, it’s started to wear on me the past few years, and I’m not nearly the nature lover Dean is.

  I’ve been craving a slower paced, cleaner, fresh-air-filled lifestyle for a long time. In my secret heart, deep down where I keep the wishes that I know will probably never come true, I’ve wanted to come back to Lover’s Leap since the day I left.

  I never hated this town; I hated the dark memories it stirred inside me.

  But now everything is different. There is no unforgivable betrayal in my past, simply crossed signals and unfortunate misunderstandings, formless shadows that have lost their substance now that they’ve been exposed to the light.

  Dean never stopped caring about me. I wasn’t cast aside and forgotten. I was loved and missed by a boy who did what he believed he had to do in order to spare me pain.

  The knowledge is enough to break through the walls I’ve built around my secret heart and let the longing for home come rushing in.

  I miss winter nights by the fire, with nothing but mountain sounds outside my door. I miss hiking until my legs are jelly and I’ve worked up the appetite to finish an entire Fish and Bicycle Beast Feast Breakfast platter on my own. I miss summer mornings wading in the river and crisp autumn afternoons filled with the smells of pie cooling on the windows of the town bakery. I even miss the ridiculousness of the Frozen Dead Dude Festival and turkey bowling in the square and not being able to make it through a shopping trip to the hardware store without running into at least ten people I know.

  I miss the people most of all.

  People like Olivia, Daisy, Matty, and Dean, sweet souls who know the dark places in my personal history and who care about me anyway. Even though my dad borrowed Daisy’s dad’s weed eater and never gave it back, and Olivia and I toilet-papered Matty’s yard after the homecoming game freshman year. Even though I never had enough money to pay my full share when we used to split a pizza after school, and I wore the same ratty pair of jeans for two months straight in fourth grade, when I outgrew all my clothes in a sudden growth spurt and Dad refused to “waste money” on more than one pair of pants that actually fit.

  But my friends never judged me or looked down on me. They loved me for who I was, not what I could afford or what kind of messed-up family I’d come from.

  The people in this town are what make Lover’s Leap a place you never want to leave. Especially Dean. He’s one in a million, the kind of decent, loyal, funny, caring, and courageous person you don’t meet every day. And unless I’m reading all the signs wrong, he wants to be with me as much as I’m dying to be with him.

  He wants to take me skinny dipping and camping this summer. Reading between the lines, that’s at least a six-month commitment to seeing where this thing between us might lead.

 
And if he’s ready to jump in, why shouldn’t I?

  I’ve spent years focusing on building my business and maintaining my friendships, relegating romance to the bottom of my to-do list. I told myself I would make time for love when the stars aligned and the universe gave me a clear sign that The One had arrived, but the sign never came.

  It never came because I never got over Dean. No matter how impossible it seemed, I never let go of the hope that someday I would find my way back to the person who taught me what love was all about.

  Now here we are, brought together by divine intervention, by a freak snowstorm and an avalanche and all the other forces that aligned to give us a night I’ll never forget.

  This is the sign I’ve been waiting for, and I’m not about to turn my back on this miracle.

  I’m about to tell Dean that he can forget worrying about an L.A. apartment—I’m coming back to Lover’s Leap as soon as I work out the details of moving my business to Colorado—when something beeps in the ranger’s office, and the lights flicker on overhead. A moment later, the heat creaks on, and the drone of warm air being forced through ducts brings the station further to life.

  “The phone!” Dean and I say at the same time, tossing off the blankets and dashing into the office, both of us determined to reach out and touch someone before the power goes out again.

  I hover next to Dean’s shoulder, crossing my fingers as he places a call to 911. Seconds later, a tinny female voice on the other end of the line answers with “911, what’s your emergency?” and Dean launches into a retelling of the series of events that left us stranded.

  “Thanks so much.” Dean nods at something the woman is saying on the other end of the line as I pace back and forth in front of the desk, hoping rescue will come sooner rather than later. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my time here with Dean—with the exception of the escaped-rat-provoked mini heart attacks—but I’m ready to get back to civilization where I can grab a shower, a toothbrush, and a giant breakfast with an endless cup of coffee.