by Talia Hunter
Instead, she ran her hands over the inside of the door, searching the smooth surface for a handle. “Let me out of here.”
“Take off the goggles.” I softened my tone. “Please?”
She heaved a frustrated sigh, seemingly resigning herself to the inevitable. Tugging off her gloves, she put them on the seat next to her. Then she reached up and pulled the goggles off. They caught on the oversized plastic ears and dragged them off too, as well as dislodging her hat. Visibly flustered, Willow grabbed at the ears and managed to catch them before they could drop to the floor. Then she tugged the elf hat off the rest of the way and smoothed her hair.
I couldn’t move. Time had rewound.
Willow was just as beautiful as I remembered. In senior year, I’d decided her nose was the cutest I’d ever seen. It was short, with an upturned tip, and suited her face perfectly. For some reason, her nose always reminded me of an exclamation point at the end of a sentence, maybe because the rest of her face had so much to say.
Like now, for instance. Her cheeks were flushed, while her eyes shot defiant darts into me, and her full lips were pressed together as though she was suppressing a string of rude words.
“Hi Willow,” I said as mildly as I could.
“Hello Luke.” Her cheeks flushed redder. “Sorry about senior prom.”
I let out a surprised ‘huh’ of laughter. “You’re sorry about prom? That’s not much of an apology, and it’s a few years late.”
Willow hadn’t told me she was leaving San Dante. I found out on prom night when I knocked on her front door, nervous in my rented suit, a corsage clutched in one hand while I smoothed my tie with the other. Her sister Holly had answered the door and informed me Willow was gone and she wasn’t coming back.
I’d stammered lots of questions, though I don’t remember Holly’s answers, and stayed on her doorstop long enough for my shock to turn into disbelief, then hurt and anger.
Finally dragging myself to prom anyway, I spent the rest of the night feeling sad because I’d been looking forward to our date so much, and awkward because all my friends were paired up, and the dances and photos were meant for couples.
“You know why I couldn’t go to prom.” She leaned forward, hooking her fingers through the metal grille that separated us. “I had to get out of town because of what happened. Because of The Incident.”
I knew what she was talking about. And I understood why she’d been so embarrassed she hadn’t wanted to face anyone.
But I still wished she’d stayed.
“You shouldn’t have been targeted like that,” I said, feeling terrible for her all over again. “It was bad. Inexcusable. But everyone would have forgotten about it—”
“Nobody would have forgotten. Everyone saw my lime green pubic hair. That’s not something you can forget.” She wiped a hand over her face as though trying to erase the memory.
It was true that most of the school had witnessed her shorts being pulled down, including me. And her thick mop of pubic hair had been a bright and memorable shade of iridescent green. But she’d been well liked, and the teasing would have died down if she’d only stuck around.
“Willow,” I said, “You can’t let it—”
“Am I under arrest?” she interrupted, dropping her hand and sitting back. She looked out the side window as though she didn’t want to meet my eyes.
“No, you’re not.”
“Then please let me out of the car.”
“I can’t let you out in the middle of nowhere.” I restarted the car. “I’ll drop you at your sister’s place. That’s where you’re staying, right?”
“My SUV’s parked outside Edward’s.”
“If I take you back there, he’ll want to know why you’re not in a cell. Give him some time before you pick your car up.”
“All right.” She sounded reluctant. “I’m only here for the wedding. As soon as it’s over, I’m leaving.”
“That’s a pity.” I pulled back out into the traffic. “You still have a lot of friends in San Dante. People who’ve left high school far behind them.”
She kept her gaze fixed out the side window, her lips pressed together and her expression guarded. I took the opportunity to study her in the rear vision mirror, drinking in the shape of her profile like a cold drink on a hot day.
Why was I still so attracted to her?
Maybe it was as simple as the fact she’d run away before our first official date. She was the girl I’d imagined I’d get to kiss at prom, and she was still my dream girl. Reality had never had a chance to taint her memory.
I pulled the car up outside her sister’s house and got out to open the back door. She refused the hand I offered to help her, but once out, she stood facing me instead of running off as I’d half expected. She was juggling her goggles, hat, ears, and gloves with both hands, so had to blow up at a curl of hair that was falling into her eyes. I reached out and tucked the wayward curl behind her ear.
Her startled eyes met mine, and her cheeks flushed. I dropped my hand.
“I wouldn’t have locked you in the back of my car if you’d told me who you were,” I said.
“Thanks for not placing me under elf arrest.” The side of her mouth quirked up in an almost-smile that was totally unexpected.
I blinked, surprised, then smiled back at her.
Her gaze dropped. She seemed lost for words for a moment, as though my smile had flustered her.
The chemistry between us suddenly felt just like it had in high school when we’d talked awkwardly, giving each other nervous sideways glances and laughing about nothing. It made me feel eighteen again. Like I should ask her to another prom so we could have a second chance at a first date.
Which was clearly ridiculous.
Giving her a nod, I went back around to the driver’s side to get into my car. But I hesitated before pulling away so I could watch her walk into the house, her elf skirt swaying with every step.
As hard as it’d been at the time, it was a good thing Willow had left when she did, before anything had actually happened between us. I would probably have felt a lot worse if our prom date had gone as I’d planned, and she’d left town afterward.
I was still thinking about her when a call came through, summoning me to the police station. Mason showed up shortly after I got there, striding into the break room where I was pouring myself a coffee. He clapped me on the back with one of his oversized paws, making me spill some of the coffee I was pouring. “Chief just confirmed it, Luke. You’ll be working on the surveillance team. We’ll start work the day after Christmas.”
“That’s great news!”
“And that’s not all.” He dropped his voice. “You didn’t hear it from me, but you’re about to get the promotion you were after.”
My heart skipped. “He’s giving me the detective position?”
“Congrats, man. And all you have to do is stay out of trouble. None of your crazy antics, okay?”
“I’ll try and restrain myself.” If I weren’t so busy grinning, I might have rolled my eyes at his lame idea of a joke. Sure, I had a by-the-book reputation, but that wasn’t a bad thing. It was probably what was about to land me a promotion when longer-serving cops should have been first in line.
“What did you do with the elf?” Mason elbowed me out of the way to pour a coffee for himself. “Did you put her back on the shelf?”
I grunted a laugh. It was good that Mason was joking with me. He hadn’t been back in town long, and he must have experienced some nasty shit while he was away doing undercover work. He was starting to lighten up, but sometimes his eyes still looked haunted. And when I’d asked him how he got his scars, he’d changed the subject.
“I dropped the elf home,” I said.
“So you found out who she was?” He was a wall of solid muscle, and when he cradled his cup, it looked tiny in his hand.
“Willow Buchanan.”
Mason looked surprised for a moment, then he rubbed the scar on his
neck absently, his eyes going up and to the left, like he was going over old memories. “Makes sense Willow would come back to town for her sister’s wedding, but it’s been a while.”
“Wedding of the century,” I said with a shrug.
The mayor’s eldest daughter was an up-and-coming politician in her own right, and plenty of dignitaries and VIPs would be at Holly’s big day. The outdoor ceremony was being held at the large gazebo in the middle of San Dante Park so hundreds could attend, and the mayor was sparing no expense.
I had to wonder if the mayor was happy to have her youngest daughter home for the ceremony. Willow had never needed to go looking for trouble; she had an uncanny ability to attract it. After she’d skipped town, I’d wondered if her mother had been relieved.
And now Willow was back for her sister’s fancy event, like a flame landing in dry grass.
I had a feeling life in San Dante was about to get a whole lot more interesting.
Chapter Three
Willow
I crept into my sister’s house as quietly as possible with my ears, hat, gloves, and snow googles clutched in my hands, hoping to make it to the bedroom before I ran into my sister and had to explain my state of dishevelment.
No such luck.
Holly was in her living room, with an entire carpet of white and red flowers blocking my way through. Seeing as it was the only way to get to the stairs which led to my bedroom, that was a big problem.
And a worse problem?
Mom was there too.
I stopped short, a small groan escaping my lips.
Holly turned at the sound and gaped at me. “Willow? What happened?”
Mom frowned, looking me up and down. My elf dress and leggings were wet from landing on a mixture of icy snow and hot Luke Penn. And with my hands full I couldn’t even use my fingers to try to comb my bedraggled, tangled hair.
“Why do you look like that, Willow?” demanded Mom. “Are you trying to embarrass me?”
“What? No! Why would I do that?” I frowned back at Mom. She may be the mayor, but I was tired of her assuming everything was about her job, including her youngest daughter’s screw-ups.
That’s when my nose started to itch.
Flowers were great, from a distance. But close up, they were tiny pollen land mines with the ability to generate huge explosions of snot.
“Why do you have all those flowers in here?” A flood of liquid was already pooling in my sinuses, preparing to drip. “You remember I’m allergic, right?”
“You’re still allergic to flowers?” Holly asked, as though my allergy was an old kid’s toy I was refusing to stop clinging to.
“Just keep back, Willow,” Mom ordered. “Stay by the door.”
“We’re pulling off the petals so they can be scattered during the ceremony,” added Holly. “We’re almost done.”
“It’s the pollen,” I croaked as my throat closed up. “It makes me…ACHOO!”
“Be careful!” Mom jumped in front of the flowers, trying to shield them from my snot.
“Back up!” Holly made frantic sweeping motions with her hands. “Go!”
I blew my nose on my elf hat while I backed all the way to the door. What now? With my SUV still parked at Edward’s place, I couldn’t even flee.
“I’m trapped,” I muttered miserably. “This is almost worse than being arrested.”
“You were arrested?” Mom was so shocked, she shouted the question.
I winced. “Not really. Don’t worry, no charges were laid.”
“Willow, this is the worst possible time for you to land yourself in trouble. The election’s in eight months. I can’t afford a scandal.”
“Eight months is forever, Mom.” My sister used a soothing tone. “Nobody will remember any scandals by then.”
I blew my nose again, leaving it to Holly to run interference. In spite of still being irritated that she’d scheduled her wedding for my busiest time of year, Holly and I mostly got along.
She was the clever, pretty, high-achieving sister who’d probably be mayor after Mom was done with the job, though I’d always thought she’d make an excellent Drill Sergeant if she decided to enlist. She and Rudy lived close to Mom and had dinner with her every Sunday.
I was Holly’s opposite.
Before arriving back in San Dante yesterday, I hadn’t seen Mom in eleven years. I’d been secretly hoping my absence might have made her heart grow a little fonder. Nobody likes to think their own mother might have been glad to see the back of them when they left town. But our reunion had been icy, and it wasn’t showing any signs of defrosting.
Mom’s phone rang, and she snatched it up, stalking into the kitchen to talk to the caller.
“Would you drive me down the road to pick up my car?” I asked Holly over the sound of Mom conducting mayoral business in a very loud voice.
My SUV held my livelihood, and was packed to the brim with Christmas decorations and party supplies. Not to mention the enormously expensive, top-of-the-line snow machine. No matter what Luke had said, I wasn’t about to leave it unattended on a public street. I’d intended to change out of my elf costume before picking it up, but that would be impossible with flowers blocking my path.
“Okay.” Holly glanced at her watch. “But we’ll have to go right away. I only have twenty-three minutes before my call with the caterer.”
She interrupted Mom’s phone call to let her know we’d be back soon, then we got into her silver Mercedes with its leather seats and new-car smell. I sat uncomfortably, feeling a million years younger than my highly organised older sister. Holly had on an elegant white dress with high heels, and her makeup was impeccable. I had a hole in the front of my stripy elf leggings and scuffmarks on my thick-soled boots.
When Holly’s Mercedes glided up to where I’d left my car, she nodded to the big lettering on the side of my SUV with the name of my company, The Christmas Cinch.
“Are you really going to be able to turn your business into a franchise?” she asked.
I nodded, trying to resist the urge to pick at the hole in my leggings. “I have a business manager and financial advisor helping me put it together.”
“I wouldn’t have imagined you’d be able to franchise a business like that.”
“Huh. Well, I guess I’m not as incompetent as you and Mom seem to think.” I tried not to sound as annoyed as I felt. Maybe I’d been a screw-up in San Dante, but after moving to Vegas, I’d built my business from scratch with no help from anyone. Though I may not be making enough to buy a fancy house yet, I wasn’t doing as badly as she seemed to have assumed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Holly ran her manicured hands around her leather steering wheel. “I just assumed a Christmas events business wouldn’t be viable all year around. You’ve proven me wrong.” She offered a conciliatory smile.
“Was that why you decided to get married at Christmas? Because you didn’t think my business was successful anyway?”
She flushed, dropping her hands into her lap. “It didn’t occur to me that it might be bad for your business. I just wanted a Christmas wedding. It wouldn’t have felt right having it any other time of year.”
I reached for the door handle to get out, and felt her touch my arm.
“Wait. You found some work here, though? That’s why you’re wearing that outfit?” Holly sounded contrite.
“I booked one job, and that’s what got me arrested.”
She shook her head. “How do you always manage to get yourself into trouble?”
“It’s a gift.”
“What happened this time?”
I scrunched my nose, turning to face her. “Mrs. Watson asked me to snow bomb her house. Only it was Edward Lennox’s house.”
“But you must have known about Trixie and Edward’s feud? It’s been going on forever.”
“When I left San Dante, I tried to purge the entire town from my mind. I guess I succeeded better than I thought.”
&n
bsp; Holly grimaced. “Did you hate living here so much?”
“You know why I hated it. And why I never wanted to come back.” At least enough time had passed that I could talk about The Incident without wanting to leap from a tall building. That was progress.
She squeezed my arm. “Nobody remembers what happened, Willow. It was a long time ago.”
I shook my head. Holly and Luke could try to make it seem less humiliating, but nothing like it had ever happened to them.
I’d been playing around with the idea of putting a bright color on the ends of my hair, but wanted to test the dye first to see exactly how bright it was going to be. Seeing as I hadn’t wanted to try the color anywhere visible, running the test on my pubic hair was the only logical solution. And it had worked perfectly.
My big mistake had been telling my friends and swearing them to secrecy.
Seemingly within minutes, everyone at school had heard about my bright green bush. And apparently, just sniggering at me without evidence wasn’t enough for Gus, the school bully. He wanted to see it for himself.
It happened at lunchtime in our packed school cafeteria. I was wearing gym shorts and carrying a loaded lunch tray, looking for a place to sit. Totally defenseless. Gus darted up behind me and tugged down my shorts, dragging my panties down with them.
For several seconds—or maybe centuries—I stood frozen, naked from the waist down, unable to move, as everyone gaped. Then the laughter started.
And just like that, my nickname became Willow Bush.
Admittedly, it could have been a whole lot worse.
For a start, willows are trees, not bushes, which made me even more amazed that I’m the one who almost failed Mrs. Watson’s English class. Secondly, wouldn’t Pussy Willow have been a cleverer nickname?
Or Gus could have been even more creative, and nicknamed me Moldy Furburger, or Grassy Knoll, or the Pickled Pube-monster. Really, I’d been lucky.
In fact, I probably wouldn’t have dropped out of school and fled to Vegas, if two things hadn’t happened.
