by Rye Hart
“That’s one way to do it,” Carol said. “I take it a chat with Landon isn’t in the books for your holidays?”
“Nope. I’m going home. Seeing my dad. Decorating for Christmas and opening presents and watching the sun rise above the trees.”
“Sounds absolutely boring,” she said. “Will there be booze?”
“There’s always booze when my father’s concerned,” I said.
“I like him already.”
I put the battery back into my phone and watched it start up. Another voicemail rushed to my phone, but so did two other messages. I opened the group chat and saw the picture the Trent brothers sent me before I threw my head back with laughter.
The six of them had painted their stomachs with the phrase “Come Home” written out in Christmas colors.
“Holy fuck, I can’t believe they’re your neighbors,” Carol said, leaning over my shoulder to see what I was laughing at. “I’d be their ‘ho ho ho’ anytime. It wouldn’t even have to be Christmas!”
“Well, they aren’t there all the time. Their childhood home sort of turned into a vacation home for when their family gets together. I don’t think any of them live there permanently, but they’ve never been the city type either. They’ve all stayed close by.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t keep those luscious beards, massive arms, and chiseled abs in the city. The mountains are a fitting back-drop for those sweet cheeks.”
“Yeah, I suppose they did sort of turn into a bunch of mountain men, huh?” I asked.
“Sort of? Kyra, Zeus himself couldn’t chisel better bodies with his lightning fists.”
“You’re nuts.”
“I’m nuts for their nuts,” she said.
“Carol!”
“Kyra, just promise me one thing. If you go home and those sexy men hit on you, do something about it. We both know you’re not experienced enough to teach a class like this. Get yourself some experience.”
“I’m not sleeping with my neighbors,” I said. “And I’m not doing this teaching gig forever. Relationship Coach, remember?”
“Isn’t it you who’s always saying that sex is an important facet of a relationship? How can you give advice on it if you don’t fucking do it?”
I sat there in silence while her words knocked the breath from me.
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way,” I said breathlessly.
“Good. You’re open to the idea, so when you get yourself some, I want all the nasty details.”
“Wait a minute there sister, I never said I’d was going to-”
Just as I was going to object, I received another phone call from my ex, and shut my phone off again. I wasn’t going to let his negativity and abuse get to me.
***
It felt so good to be back in Colorado. The cold crisp air in this mountain town brought back a wave of warm memories from my childhood.
“Kyra!”
I looked up and saw my father, with his broad chest and his long beard. I rushed toward him, throwing my arms out and wrapping myself around his body. I didn’t get home as much as I had while I was in college, and the smell of firewood and forest permeated his clothing as I clung tightly to him.
His grip instantly tightened on me, sensing that something was wrong as he set me down onto my feet.
His eyes fell to my left hand, now bare compared to the last time he saw it. He flicked his gaze up to my face, his dark brown eyes studying me closely. That was the thing about my father. He never had to say a word in order to make you feel both loved and petrified at the same time.
I pitied Landon if my father ever saw him again.
“Good riddance,” my father said before he took my bag, and we made our way towards his truck.
The car ride brought back so many blissful memories. The mountains rose to their precipices in the distance. Their snow-capped tops blended into the crisp, white clouds that hunkered down over their tops. The winding roads became steeper and heftier, and I could hear my father’s truck working just to get up and down the inclines.
The trees were lined with snow and ice, twinkling with radiance in their new outfits, while winter blues and Christmas whites permeated my vision. My small hometown was draped in its winter wonderland costume, and all I could think about was cozying up next to a warm fire by the window and watching the snow fall along the tree line on the horizon.
“You remember that time your mother tried to surprise you, that year she had to travel?” my father asked.
“The year she left for that convention or whatever she was doing?”
“Yeah. Remember how she tried to climb through your window and ended up breaking her leg?”
“My gosh, I do remember that. She broke her leg and got pneumonia from falling face-first in the snow.”
“That woman was wild,” he said.
“Remember the year Mom tried to make all of our Christmas treats instead of buying them like she always did?”
“That was the year she charred half the kitchen. We had to remodel that year. I told her it was her Christmas gift. You wanna know what my favorite Christmas memory of her is, though?”
“What’s that, Dad?”
“Remember that year you introduced us to your first boyfriend? What was his name… Dan?”
“Jacob?” I asked.
“Whatever. I didn’t have to say one damn word to that boy. Your mother ended up reading him his rights on how we expected him to treat you, and he shivered in his boots whenever she came around. And if she was still here, that Larry fella would be doing the same.”
“You mean Landon?” I asked.
“Whatever.”
“It doesn’t really matter now. I think it’s over for good between the two of us.”
“How so?” he asked.
“I got tired of him laughing at my ambitions, and he wouldn’t open up to me about certain things that made me uncomfortable.”
“I say that’s about as done as it gets.”
Just as we pulled up into the driveway of my home, my father took my hand. My father wasn’t one for physical gestures with other people, so when I felt the warmth of his calloused hand against mine, I whipped my gaze over to him. He was studying me closely, like I could always remember him doing to Mom, and in an instant, I knew what he was going to say.
“You deserve someone who believes in you, and that person isn’t Logan.”
“Landon.”
“Whatever,” he said.
I smiled and giggled before I leaned over and kissed his cheek. The two of us stepped out of the truck, my eyes sweeping over the vast view of the mountains from our porch. The Trents and my family were the only people settled on this mountain. I drew in a deep breath as I panned my gaze over to their house. I knew they were here. I could tell by all the pictures they had been sending me over the course of my plane ride.
But something inside me was disappointed they weren’t out here to truly welcome me home.
I had missed all of them when I moved to the city. We were very close growing up. Partially because we were neighbors, partially because of the death of my mother and the toll that took on all of us, and partially because we were thirty minutes outside of town and no one ever wanted to trek up the mountain to visit us. The heavenly peaks reached for the skies, displaying their light gray cascades and their dripping white snow havens, but these picturesque hills were no match for the beauty that was the Trent’s home.
If only because I knew who was already there.
In high school, I had a crush on all of them. Not one of them, and not some of them, but all of them. They were gorgeous, but I had to admit that Carol was right about that picture they sent me. Their muscles had bloomed, and their strength had grown. The beards on their faces accented their eyes and lips in ways I didn’t really know were possible. I missed their closeness and their unique personalities. Each one of them always had a way of making me smile and laugh in the best ways possible. It’s what made all of the
m so important to me.
It was the bond I realized I was missing with Landon.
“You coming?” my father asked.
I let out a sigh, watching the steam rise from my lips before dissipating into the cold, winter dusk that was settling over the mountains.
“Yeah. I’m coming.”
I knew my old bedroom was waiting for me to unpack my things, and as my eyes lingered on their house outside my window, I couldn’t help the tears that rose to my eyes as a thought crossed my mind.
I don’t want to go back.
CHAPTER TWO - OWEN
I’d been watching the windows for the last fucking hour. The moment I heard Mark’s battered fucking truck echoing down the crevices of the mountain, I’d settled onto the couch and silently waited for them to pull up.
All I could think about was Kyra coming home.
I’d had a crush on that fucking woman for years, ever since puberty did her body some good. She was petite in areas that were delicate, and filled out in areas that called to my fingertips, and there were nights where all I could do was have wet dreams of the things I wanted to do to her.
When I figured out she was getting married, I was depressed for days. I automatically didn’t like the guy. Not one fucking bit. He was tall and lanky. A typical city boy with no strength or smarts about him. His worth to a woman was dependent upon how much money he could make in an hour, which didn’t mean shit when it came to a woman like Kyra.
She didn’t care about money or gifts or expensive shit. What she needed was someone who gave a shit and supported her. Someone who could take care of things around the house when she broke them and kept apologizing. She needed a man who wasn’t afraid to slide his hand along her ass in the middle of a store just to make her feel beautiful, and she sure as hell needed someone who had no issues running his lips along every other crevice of her body when they weren’t in public.
I watched Mark pull up into the driveway, and the moment Kyra got out, my heart started to race.
“Guys! Tinkerbell’s home!”
I went running through the house, knocking on the doors as the guys slowly rolled out of bed. We all told ourselves we would take a nap so we could stay up and chat with Kyra into the early morning hours. That was the thing she loved to do the most. The window of her bedroom faced our home, and it was easy to climb up onto the second-story wrap-around porch that led into her bedroom. As kids, all of us would use a ladder to get up there, throwing ourselves over the balcony before knocking on her door to wake her up. We’d all gather around and sit down, talking for hours until the morning sun started piercing through the trees.
We didn’t have to pull that shit now, but we still wanted to stay up and talk with her.
I made sure all of them were up before I strode across the lawn. I’d traversed these lawns on countless occasions, walking these same steps during our childhoods. Back and forth, we would all go between the two houses, always up to something and always getting into trouble. We called ourselves the Lost Boys, too wild to be tamed and too loud to be silenced. And Kyra had been our fairy princess.
Our gorgeous guide.
Our strong, unwavering Tinkerbell.
The nickname was cheesy as fuck, but the best one to describe her.
Small in stature, but she was powerful as hell beyond her size. She grew into a strong woman, bypassing that ‘girly-girl’ stage altogether. Makeup was never her thing, and she didn’t give a fuck about what her hair looked like. She’d rather lounge around in sweatpants and a t-shirt without a bra on than wake up an hour early just to piece herself together.
And trust me, I didn’t mind the times where she was braless – not one damn bit.
The moment I discovered girls didn’t have cooties, I was all over Kyra. Not physically, but in my mind. I kept my crush a secret because I didn’t want to be teased about it, but I also kept it close to my chest because I didn’t want to be rejected by Kyra.
I strode right up to the front door of Kyra’s home and knocked on the door with my knuckles.
Mark answered the door immediately as my brothers ran up behind me. I could hear them panting and heaving, the cold air causing them to wheeze as Mark shook his head. He stepped off to the side and invited us into his home, silently ushering us in from the cold before he shut the door behind us.
“Honestly, I’m shocked you boys weren’t already waiting outside like a pack of dogs,” Mark said.
“Where’s Kyra?” I asked.
“Hold on. Kyra! Where are you?!”
“In my room, Dad! What’s up!”
“The gaggle of gossips are taking up my foyer!”
Yep. That was the nickname Kyra’s mother bestowed upon us. While most women just saw a bunch of rowdy boys, Michelle had seen a bunch of gossips in the making. And she wasn’t wrong. We all took after our own mother in that respect. But the term of endearment shot my mind back to a time when Kyra’s mother was still alive.
Her death affected all of us, and there wasn’t a holiday that went by that I didn’t miss that woman’s laughter.
The moment Kyra rounded the staircase with a smile on her face, I was transfixed. Her smile lit up her large brown eyes, and her honey-blonde hair was almost down to her luscious breasts. It seemed that a year in the city had only made her more gorgeous, and my heart was pounding in my chest so hard I couldn’t even hear the words she was speaking.
My eyes feel to her left side. There was no ring, and for a second, I had to digest that little piece of information. She’d sent us all a picture of the ring when it happened. You could fucking see that thing from Mars.
But as I stared at her left hand, taking in the sight of her bare skin, I felt that same spark reignite in my gut.
“Hi,” I said.
She threw her arms around my neck, and I had to talk myself through my breathing just so I could wrap my arms around her in return.
She was warm and inviting, and she smelled like lilacs and raspberries. I wanted to hold her closer. I wanted to rip her clothes off. I wanted to pin her to the wall and devour her body, licking up her tantalizing juices and freeing those beautiful sounds I’d dreamt about for years.
But she let go of me too quickly, and just like that, the greeting was over.
“Tinkerbell!” Ethan exclaimed.
“Oh, my gosh, how’re you doing?” Kyra asked.
“Better now that you’re home,” Ethan said, grinning. “Now, where’s that massive rock you took a picture of for us?”
“What?” she asked.
I tried to get Ethan’s attention, and the look on my face was what prompted the other guys to look down at her hand.
“Your engagement ring. You know, that massive thing you could see from—”
Ethan grasped Kyra’s left hand and felt the bareness of her skin, and I watched his entire face fall. He slowly brought her hand in front of him, his fingers encircling the place where that ring should’ve been. There was the faintest of tan lines, just enough for someone to know something had been there if they looked hard enough, and suddenly, I watched every muscle in Kyra’s body stiffen.
“Well, that isn’t really something I have anymore,” she said.
“What did he do?” Ethan said.
“It’s not important,” she said as she ripped her hand from his. “All that matters is that the wedding’s off, so no one has to worry about it.”
Fireworks exploded in my head. Assuming was one thing, but hearing it from her lips was another. My hands slid into the pockets of my pants as my right hand grazed across the small jewelry box, and suddenly, all my hopes and dreams were finally coming alive again. Hope filled my chest at the idea of being able to tell her how I truly felt about her, how I could give her all the things this asshole ex of hers never would be able to.
She greeted the rest of my brothers in haste before she stepped back and took a deep breath.
“So, who wants beer?” she asked.
Everyone nodded in app
roval, and I stepped forward from the pack and found my voice again.
“I’ll help you get everything. No use making two trips.”
I followed her into the kitchen, not able to take my eyes off the sway of her hips. She opened the fridge and started pulling out beers, passing them to me so I could open them. I twisted my hand around the cap, popping the tops off and setting them on the table. But then her beautiful giggle rose from behind me as I turned to grab the last one.
“What?” I asked.
“Those aren’t twist-top beers,” she said. “I was about to hand you the bottle opener.”
I smirked at her, and she simply shook her head. The callouses on my hands from rebuilding my father’s shed while I was here were more prominent than I realized, I guessed, but the fact that Kyra was giggling was enough for me.
“I have a gift for you,” I said.
“Oh?” she asked. “What is it?”
I pulled the jewelry box out from my pocket and handed it to her. I held my breath as her eyes looked down into the palm of her hand. Then I watched as she slowly pried the lid open. I watched her beautiful brown eyes light up as she pulled the rose gold locket from the box, and the moment she popped it open, I saw tears rise to her eyes.
“Oh, Owen,” she said, whispering.
Inside was a picture of all of us when we were children. We were all gathered around after her last day of eighth grade, and we had all just got done teasing her about entering high school at an early age. Kyra ended up skipping fifth and sixth grade, which meant she was two years younger than anyone else in her class. She had always been incredibly bright, and I could remember the moment she looked up into my eyes just after that photo and smiled.
She told me it was the best day of her life, and I wanted her to hang that day around her neck for the rest of her life.
“I love it,” she said.
“You do?” I asked.
“‘The best day of my life’,” she said, grinning.
“Would you like me to put it on you?” I asked.
“Would you?”
“Of course.”
