Love 2 Jingle U: A Sweet Vine Christmas Romance

by Alexandra Silva

“So why didn’t you answer my call before?”

  “I was busy.” A sign of a smiling Christmas tree grabs my attention at a farm lane, and without a second thought, I turn into it.

  “Only you would be working when you could be enjoying the change of scenery.”

  “I can’t let Dad down, and I sure as fuck ain’t letting any of the vultures take what’s mine.” Coming to a stop in front of a large stone farmhouse, I look around at all the trees, all tall and green.

  I can practically hear Amelia squeal with excitement over them. Maybe I should’ve brought her with me. It’s not like I know anything about this stuff.

  “You’re a florist, what do you know about Christmas trees?”

  “What?”

  “I need to buy a Christmas tree for the cottage, so what do you know about them?”

  “Why do you need a—”

  “Daph, I just need the lowdown on the things, not one thousand and one fucking questions.”

  “They’re fucking trees, asshole! They need water so they don’t die, and you’re meant to decorate them. Since when do you celebrate Christmas?”

  Asking her anything was a mistake, I should’ve told her to call back later and asked the guy staring me out in the courtyard.

  “Why are you being weird?” she asks in a tone that tells me if I don’t answer her, she’s going to keep asking shit and we’ll be here a lot longer than necessary.

  “My housemate has a thing for Christmas, and since there’s already tinsel and paper crafts everywhere, I thought we might go the whole hog and get a tree too.”

  “Wait. Housemate? Since when? I thought it was the whole cottage…”

  For a second, I’m tempted to tease her and make her believe that she was wrong. That I’m in houseshare hell, but it’s the furthest thing from the truth. And it would only prolong our call when I want to get back to the cottage and Amelia.

  “Cutting a long story short,” I tell her so she knows I don’t want to drag the conversation out. “The person that was staying there before me got stranded, and I couldn’t exactly let her sleep out in the blizzard.”

  “Her?”

  Ignoring the excitement in her voice, I carry on. “Turns out Amelia is kind of Christmas crazy, and given it’s keeping her happy…I thought I’d get her another distraction. You know, keep her out of my hair so I can focus on work.”

  “Amelia’s a cute name. Is she cute too?”

  “Do not get ahead of yourself, and for the love of my sanity, do not tell Mom…or Nanna.”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  “You’re not a guy, Daph, you can’t be a Scout. Besides, aren’t Scouts Catholic?”

  “Not anymore, killjoy. They’re open to all denominations and sexes.”

  “Huh, I guess you really do learn something new every day.”

  “Whatever, just answer my fucking question! Is she cute? Pretty?”

  “Amelia’s nice.” If I say anymore, I know she’ll never let me get off the phone unless I hang up on her. That in itself would be asking for more trouble than I’m equipped to deal with. “You’d like her.”

  “Well, ummm, okay. I better let you get back to the tree situation, then. Don’t forget water, lights, decorations… Don’t be a weirdo and all miserable…you can take a break or two…”

  “Sure.”

  “Not every woman is like she who shall not be named.” Daphne pauses before adding, “Ooooh! Take a photo?”

  “Sure, I’ll send you a photo of the tree.”

  “I meant the girl, dumbass!”

  “Amelia’s a woman.” The comment rolls off my tongue to visions of shapely legs and soft curves that have my pulse quickening.

  “Well then, I meant the woman. Take a photo of her…you know, I need to know you’re safe and that she’s not a psycho…weirdo…”

  Yeah, they would definitely get along. In fact, I’m certain they could be two peas in a pod.

  “Bye, Daph.”

  “Photo,” she repeats before I hang up and focus on the task at hand—mission Christmas tree.

  With the smallest tree I could find over one shoulder and the small bag of random lights and ornaments from the small store at the farm in hand, I tackle the front door open. The smell of ginger and honey is enough to make me feel at home, reminding me of Mom’s Hanukkah lebkuchen. It’s the ultimate scent of my childhood.

  “Seriously, I’m such a freaking ho!” I stop in my tracks at the sound of Amelia’s remark.

  “Everyone loves a ho ho ho at Christmas, Mrs. Claus.”

  “Stop it, Kate, I feel like…like…”

  “A hussy?”

  There’s a breath of a second where I think Amelia knows I’m back and eavesdropping on their conversation, but then she sighs, “He’s so freaking tall. You know, the hot kind of tall that you need to get on your tippy-toes to kiss.”

  “Wow, we’re on to kissing already,” Kate giggles, and my heart picks up its pace.

  “Every time I see him, it’s like a shot of female Viagra, and I’m this dope that can’t stop grinning or ogling him…”

  “So basically what you’re saying is that you don’t want me to send in the rescue party after all?”

  “No! I still need to get to LA for Christmas—I can’t let Seb spend the holidays alone. Especially since Mom and Dad decided to go skiing again this year.”

  That little tidbit stings for reasons I’m not entirely sure about. Let’s face it, we should never have met. If it wasn’t for the weather, we wouldn’t be here right now. Together.

  “I’ll keep a lookout for any news on US flights. If worse comes to worst, I’ll drive up to you with a shovel in tow and get you back to London.”

  “If you don’t get me out of here soon, I can’t be blamed for what will happen if he keeps looking at me with his dreamy eyes. He brushed some snow out of my hair, and I swear I was gonna burst into flames!”

  At her remark, my hand fists tighter around the bag I’m holding, while the same pull that had me touching her tugs harder at me.

  “You know, you could make the most out of the situation since you’re so smitten. A fling might be just the thing you need. Besides, I hear he’s the perfect height.”

  There’s a pause before Amelia sighs, “He really is the best kind of tall.”

  “Exactly, you wouldn’t have that weird neck contortion problem. You just open up and…what is it you Americans say? Gobble gobble?”

  It takes all my control to stop the laugh that threatens to burst from my mouth.

  “Oh my God! Stop!”

  “Come on! Where’s your sense of fun?”

  “Gobble gobble? Wrong holiday, Kate.”

  Biting down on my lip, I swallow down the chuckle that fills my mouth. There’s a certain kind of satisfaction that vibrates through me at the notion that I was right—Amelia’s quietness and coy glances are nothing but a decoy for the spitfire inside her. And the longer I listen to them laugh over all the possible Christmassy pun innuendos, the harder it becomes for me to restrain myself. I could drop the tree and throw her over my shoulder…

  Maybe I was wrong about one thing: Amelia isn’t a force of nature. She’s straight-up dangerous. To my sanity. To my rules. To everything I swore I would never do again.

  “Seriously, you should be telling me to stay away.”

  “I most certainly should not. Your mouth, his cane…what’s the worst that could happen?” When Amelia doesn’t reply, she adds, “After this you’ll never see him again. Live a little.”

  “I don’t know… All I do know is that, God, his eyes are so freaking blue, Kate, and I swear, my fingers are itching…like burning to get all tangled in his hair.”

  The growly groan that follows makes my dick twitch in approval of the images her words are painting in my mind. The recollection of yesterday and how it felt when our hands touched briefly…the current races through me all over again, and I find myself edging closer to the kitchen doorway, catching myself just i
n time, before I come into view.

  “Adam has something about him that…I don’t know…I think I’d let him do anything to me. Any way, any how. I’d let him fuck me in ways that would make a nun sweat.”

  Fuck, I need to do something to stop things from getting weird, or Amelia’s walking out of the kitchen to find me sporting wood over her conversation with her friend…that I shouldn’t be listening to.

  Still, my heart thrums, beating erratically… I want. I want. I want. My body reacts, overriding every order my brain is giving.

  I retreat to the door and make a point of clunking the tree trunk on the wooden floor to announce my presence before calling out, “Honey, I’m home!”

  There’s no point in berating myself over my words. At this point I’m grateful I can use the bag in my hand to hide the bulge in my pants. That I haven’t completely lost my mind and showed her exactly what I want to do to her.

  “Oh.” Amelia peers around the kitchen doorway. Her face is flushed, and there’s a look of panic as she steps out, still in her pajamas and her socks pulled up just below her knees. “Adam…hey…hi.”

  Her friend’s laughter sounds around us, making her flush deepen. I bet I could make her color a lot more if I told her I could fuck her in ways that would make Lucifer blush.

  “Call you later,” she blusters into the phone before very quickly hanging up.

  Eyes darting around us, she inhales sharply when they settle on the tree beside me. “That was your errand?”

  Sucking her lip into her mouth, she looks up at me from beneath her thick lashes, and before I can steel myself, she takes a run at me. Jumping into my arms, she wraps hers around my shoulders. Warmth courses through me, spreading through my chest in a way that has me dropping the bag I was still holding so that I can hoist her up my body.

  Walking her into the sitting room, I put her down on her feet, noticing how her arms tighten around me before her fingertips find the hair at my nape. Her glistening hazel gaze widens on mine, and I can’t be certain of whether it’s my heart drumming wildly or hers. Maybe it’s both in unison.

  I swallow down the urge to crush my lips to hers, pulling away slightly so I can spin Amelia around. My hands grasp her hips as I turn us about the room, her back to my front.

  “Tell me where you want it.” My rasp has her tilting her head to the side to look up at me with a deep ruddy blush working its way up her neck to her cheeks. “The tree. Where do you want it?”

  Once she’s found the perfect spot, I set it in situ, cutting the netting off so that the branches fall and fill the space between the window and fireplace.

  “It’s so perfect. So beautiful.”

  Like you. The words are on the tip of my tongue. I have to bite down on my lip to stop them from rolling free.

  “I thought you didn’t do Christmas?” Amelia starts pulling the decorations from the bag. “More lights?”

  “What was it you said yesterday about twinkle lights making the magic even better?”

  “Huh, you were listening.” An awed smile makes her odd dimple crease.

  So fucking beautiful.

  “I’m good at that,” I tell her as I unravel the string of lights. “I don’t get to have much fun, and yesterday was actually great.”

  “And here I was thinking you’re the miserable Grinch.” A giggle escapes her as she grabs the end of the lights and disappears around the tree. “Can you wind this around the top?”

  “Sure.” I do as Amelia asked and follow the rest of her instructions on the lights, making sure they’re evenly wound and woven through the branches.

  Once she’s happy with the placement of the lighting, she threads a few ornaments on the tips of her fingers and rounds the tree, disappearing as she asks, “How come you don’t get to have fun?”

  “My job. Mostly.”

  Peeking around the shrubbery, she widens her eyes in question. They’re a most beguiling shade of amber-speckled green that makes my breath stick in my lungs.

  “I’m CFO of a…ummm…” Aware of how people’s perception of me changes when I tell them about my job, I pull back. I don’t want Amelia to be like other women that instantly think of my bank balance. And as I tell her about my career, I wait for her attitude to change. “I’m CFO of my family’s global fund.”

  “I can see why you lack fun—it sounds intense. Every time Seb’s had to work on a banking app, he gets all weird. Like the joy is sucked right out of him, so it makes sense that I’m the most fun you’ve had.” Amelia’s expression sobers as she catches herself. “I meant yesterday with me.”

  “You are definitely a contagious ball of festive spirit. And a much-needed breath of fresh air actually,” I admit as relief sets in over her reaction.

  It’s the most frank I’ve allowed myself to be with anyone since my last relationship. Still, I can’t allow myself to lose touch with how that ended and why.

  Following Amelia’s lead, I thread some ornaments onto my fingers and follow her around the tree while she continues asking me about my life. It’s surprising how easy it is to talk to her about my career as I normally shy away from talking about myself to anyone.

  “It’s why I’m here. The investor I’m trying to close a deal with left London early. Apparently his wife had a Christmas party at their estate and…”

  “A Christmas party, huh?” Raising her brows, she stares at me as though I’m missing something.

  “Wait, is that why you’re here? Because you worked his wife’s party?”

  “I planned it,” she corrects me.

  “So we’re both stranded at the office.”

  “Do you ever leave the office?” Air quoting the office part, she then adds, “I mean, you talk so much about work…but there has to be more to you, right? Or maybe your parents were distant like mine?”

  “No, if you ask my sister she’ll probably tell you that Mom is still way too hands-on and Dad is just Dad. Not to mention our grandma.”

  Expecting her to feel awkward about my reply, I’m taken aback when she asks, “So why don’t you talk about them?”

  “After what you told me about yours, I didn’t want to be an insensitive prick.”

  “I don’t think that at all.” She twirls to face me, her hand touching my chest to steady herself.

  “But you do think I’m a Grinch.”

  “You said you don’t celebrate Christmas.”

  “Our family celebrates Hanukkah.”

  “Oh! That’s kind of cool, but you know, in my opinion, everyone should celebrate Christmas. I know it’s a Christian thing, but to me it’s actually about love. Spending time with the people you care for the most and spoiling them. It’s all about getting fat and getting happy!”

  “And lucky,” I add with a low chuckle, admiring the fresh flush that colors her cheeks.

  “Lucky?”

  “To be here, decorating a Christmas tree, with you…and the fresh scent of lebkuchen. They’re my favorite.”

  “Gingerbread?”

  “Yeah, ginger is kind of my thing right now.”

  I twirl a long loose strand of auburn hair between my forefinger and thumb, and her eyes flit down between us as she bites her lip and goes back to decorating with a sigh.

  4

  Amelia

  With Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing softly in the background, I sink onto my queen-sized bed and grab my Kindle from the bedside cabinet. Nothing beats unwinding with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa. I’m a few chapters into my small-town romance, and the heroine has just got her first glimpse of the hero, dressed in a Santa suit. My mind automatically goes to thoughts of Adam dressed in the red-and-white ensemble. I’ve never fantasized about St. Nick before, but hot damn. I wouldn’t kick him out of my sleigh.

  I jump when my phone buzzes beside me, and as I reach for it, I’m surprised to see it’s a text from Adam.

  Adam: Who hides in a bakery at Christmas?

  Me: …

  Adam: A m
ince spy!

  I giggle at his lame joke and roll my eyes. He’s definitely something else. Before I can reply, another text comes through.

  Adam: What do snowmen have for breakfast?

  Me: Go on…

  Adam: Snowflakes!

  These are terrible, but it doesn’t stop my body from shaking with laughter, nor the megawatt smile stretching across my face.

  Adam: Why did Santa quit smoking?

  Me: Bad breath?

  Adam: It was bad for his elf.

  Rolling my eyes, I wonder how many more of these Mr. Serious has up his sleeve.

  Adam: Why couldn’t the skeleton go to the Christmas party?

  Me: Umm…

  Adam: He had no body to go with.

  Me: Oh God! Stop (laughy face)

  Adam: What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?

  Me: Frostbite!!!!! Come on! You’re better than that.

  Adam: Want me to pull out the big guns?

  Me: I’d be offended if you didn’t…

  Adam: You asked for it…

  Adam: Why does Santa always come through the chimney? He knows better than to try the back door…

  Throwing my head back, I let out a loud laugh at that one. I didn’t expect Mr. Serious to pull out the dirty jokes. There really is more to this man than meets the eye.

  Adam: Why was the snowman smiling? He could see the snowblower coming down the street.

  Giggling, I wish him a good night and turn the lamp off. Lying down, I stare at the ceiling and think about the man in the room across the hall.

  The wooden countertops are caked in flour, with the tiled floor getting a light dusting for good measure. The soft sound of Justin Bieber’s “Mistletoe” is playing in the background, and I have my ingredients littering the side. Rolling the pastry out along the countertop, I sprinkle some more flour to make sure it doesn’t stick.

  Baking is my way of dealing with stress. This whole snowed in with a hot stranger thing is starting to lose its novelty, and I’m really starting to worry that I’ll have to spend my first Christmas away from my brother. Shaking aside those thoughts, I get back to the task at hand.