by Jana Aston
“Do you need a Countdown-to-Dickmas calendar? I’d be happy to make you one,” Holly offers, all wide-eyed and innocent.
“No, I get plenty of Dickmas, thank you very much,” I toss back at her. We’re sisters, giving each other grief is our jobs.
“Ugh, you guys. The baby can hear you.” Ginger wrinkles her nose at the two of us disapprovingly while Holly and I groan in unison.
“This place is hopping,” I comment with a glance around Gingersnaps. They managed to get the old auto shop renovated into a restaurant and bakery in just under nine months, and had their dual grand opening two months ago.
“It is.” Ginger beams. All her dreams have come to fruition. She found her dream man and opened her dream bakery. And now she’s got a bun in the oven. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. We’ve made so many bun-in-the-oven jokes Ginger has banned us from saying any more out loud.
“Doing so well,” Ginger continues. “And the Food Network hasn’t even started airing our show yet. That’ll bring in a load of tourists during the summer and winter seasons in Reindeer Falls.”
In addition to making them the new hosts of The Great Gingerbread Bake-Off, the Food Network also filmed an eight-episode series of Ginger and Keller renovating their auto shop into a bake shop, which I’m sure will do well for them because Ginger and Keller have a ton of chemistry on camera. And off.
Speaking of… Keller appears at our table to check on Ginger. He’s working today—they both are, actually, but Ginger took off early in order to have lunch with Holly and me. He kisses her before he leaves the table because they’re that couple. Kissy kissy. When they leave here they’re probably gonna hold hands and make snow angels together or something equally adorable. Holly reaches past them to grab an extra napkin from the end of the table and gives me a little eye roll with a head nod towards the newlyweds.
“How’s your Grinch?” I ask Holly.
“Deliciously Grinchy,” she responds, a wide grin covering her face. “I honestly cannot believe I ever thought his grumpy office persona was off-putting. Now I find it very sexy.”
“I’m sure you do, you little freak.”
“Whatever. I’m not the one who kissed Santa Claus.”
“Yeah, yeah, that will never get old for you, will it?”
Okay, so I’ll never ever admit this to either of my sisters, but Teddy and I might have had a slightly kinky reenactment of our first night together. Except I was the one in the Santa suit and the Santa suit consisted mostly of strategically placed ribbons, a belt and some furry white cuffs around my wrists.
I’m a really good girlfriend.
Total wife material.
Never mind. I’m not dwelling on that. I’m not.
I part ways with my sisters outside of Gingersnap’s with quick hugs and a chorus of “see you tomorrows.” Our parents are hosting Christmas dinner tomorrow. Tonight I’m celebrating Christmas Eve with Teddy’s family at his grandmother’s house. She’s already made me a stocking with my name on it. I haven’t seen it yet, but she told me about it. You know those really cool needlepoint stockings that grandmas make by hand? One of those. Teddy’s stocking is a teddy bear on account of it being made for him when he was born. Mine has a reindeer on it, because Mrs Carrington said I brought Teddy’s heart back to Reindeer Falls.
Gah, it’s so sappy I can hardly stand it.
By which I mean I love it. I’ve always secretly hoped I’d marry into a family that had a really cool stocking tradition. And honestly, I’m already a part of the family. Teddy and I have dinner with his family at least once a month. Mrs Carrington insisted I start calling her Gram over six months ago. Plus, I have that homemade stocking, which is very nearly as legally binding as an actual marriage certificate. Everyone knows those stockings are no joke.
Teddy’s already at my place when I get home. Truth be told, he very nearly lives with me because he’s over every night. Technically he has a place of his own but he mostly uses it as an office and a closet. He sleeps at my place every night before heading to his place in the morning when I leave for work.
When I walk in, he stands, and I think he shoves something into his pocket but honestly, it might just be my overactive imagination or Teddy checking for his cell phone. It might not be anything important. Before him he’s got a mess of wrapping paper and ribbon on the table. I thought we’d wrapped everything weeks ago.
“What are you doing?” I shrug out of my coat and hang it on a hook near the door, toeing off my boots before I make my way over to the table.
There are a stack of presents wrapped, and a few unwrapped. I spy a puzzle and an art set, not yet wrapped, amongst the pile.
“Picked up a few extra things for my nieces,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.
“Hmm,” I murmur, sinking into his embrace. Loving the warm cuddle after coming in from outside. Loving him. He’s a big softie for those kids. It’s another of the many things I adore about this man.
“Teddy Carrington, are you hiding something from me in your pants?” Gah! I was going to be patient, I really really was.
“I’d never hide anything in my pants from you.” He kisses the top of my head and moves back a few inches, hands moving to his waistband. “Want me to take them off?” he teases, hands on the button, his eyes flashing in amusement. I love his eyes too. He always looks at me like he really sees me. Like he’s paying attention.
“We don’t have time for you to take off your pants,” I say sadly with a glance at the clock.
“I guess you’ll just have to be patient then, won’t you?”
I slow-blink at him. Like… patient for sex or patient for the diamond ring he’s hiding in his pocket?
He laughs like he knows exactly what’s going through my head.
We load the car with a pile of presents and the gingerbread cheesecake I picked up this morning from Ginger’s Bake Shop for tonight’s dessert. It’s in a pink bakery box tied with red and white twine for a little holiday oomph.
Christmas Eve with Teddy’s family is loud and fun and everything I expected. I’ve met most of them, but I’m introduced to a few new faces, uncles and cousins I’d not had a chance to meet before. His grandmother, Mrs Carrington, is the perfect hostess. There’s enough food to feel us all several times over along with a cheery house full of Christmas splendor.
And at the end of it, there’s an engagement.
His grandmother’s.
To Mr Owens. It’s quite romantic actually. He proposes to her in front of the entire family after giving a speech about how much joy she’s brought to him and how happy he is to have her in his life.
She says yes.
Champagne is popped—sparkling cider for the littles—and I’m glad to have been there to witness it.
“I’m quite sure you’re next,” she whispers to me later, as Teddy is warming up the car. He always does that for me, scrapes all the snow and warms the car up before coming back to walk me to the passenger door like a fairy-tale princess.
I’m quite sure I’m next too, because I’m not actually a fairy-tale princess and I’m more than capable of doing the asking.
“I heard about this thing,” I mention that night in bed. It’s dark and quiet in that way the world only ever is on Christmas.
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“So hear me out,” I begin. We’re snuggled under my sheets, flannels with festive Christmas gnomes, and a thick comforter.
“Okay.” Teddy’s lip twitches in the light of my bedroom Christmas tree.
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world too.” He flashes a warm smile, twining our fingers together under the blankets.
“Well, as luck would have it, there’s a way we can be legally bound to each other. Forever. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
Man, I’m really selling this.
“It’s more like a paperwork thing,” I interject, before I scare hi
m off, “versus some kind of weird ritualistic ceremony.”
Err. No. That’s not right either. It actually is a bit of a weird ritualistic ceremony.
“The point is,” I continue, “the paperwork exists with which we could make that happen.”
“Huh, no kidding?”
He says it without a trace of sarcasm, as if this is a genuine revelation to him. I turn to face the ceiling so I can properly side-eye him.
“Ask me to tell you a secret, Noel.”
Ah, our favorite game.
“Tell me a secret. Unless it’s that you’re afraid of legal commitment or have made a previously undisclosed pact with a bunch of buddies from college not to get married until you’re forty.”
“I’m in love with you,” he says, tracing my bottom lip with his finger.
“Not a secret.” I shake my head.
“I wanted to ask you to marry me last Christmas.”
“When we’d known each other a week?” I turn back in his direction, curious.
“Oddly, you had me at ‘put on the Santa suit,’ so yeah.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want to rush you though all the fun dating stuff, all our firsts as a couple, just because I couldn’t wait to put a ring on it.”
I bite my lip. I did really enjoy all those firsts.
“But if you’re that impatient…” He trails off with the sexiest grin he’s ever had.
“I am.”
“I had a much bigger thing planned, you know. It involved me on one knee and the whole bit.”
“It’s okay, I quite like you horizontally.”
Teddy laughs, and then he produces a ring from I don’t even know where. I think he had it under his pillow the entire time.
“Marry me.”
“Teddy Carrington, the only thing I ever wanted for Christmas was you.”
“So that’s a yes?” he asks, smiling as he slides the ring onto my finger.
“Ask me to tell you a secret.” I’m smiling so big I have to bite my lip to contain it.
“Tell me a secret, Noel.”
“It’s been a yes since last Christmas.”
I hope you’ve enjoyed Reindeer Falls! If you’d like to read more from me I’d suggest my WRONG series, which are currently in Kindle Unlimited for a LIMITED time. Flip the page for a book description or CLICK HERE to grab it now.
Holiday Recipes
After I published If You Give a Jerk a Gingerbread I got a lot of requests in my reader group asking about the recipes. My friend Kayti McGee graciously helped me create and test a few of the items I imagined Ginger and Keller baking and I’ve included them here. I’ve also included a recipe not mentioned in the book, but now I wish I had! They’re not fancy but ever since I can remember this cookies have been a part of Christmas for me.
Have you met Dr Miller?
I hope you’ve enjoyed Reindeer Falls! If you’re wanting to try something else by me (and you like your romantic comedies a little filthy) I’d suggest my WRONG series, which are currently in Kindle Unlimited for a LIMITED time. Enjoy a peek into the first book below.
I have a history of picking the wrong guy. Gay? Player? Momma’s boy? Check, check and check.
Now I can’t stop fantasizing about one of the customers at the coffee shop I work at between classes. It’s just a harmless crush, right? It’s not like I ever see this guy outside of the coffee shop. It’s not like I’m going to see him while attempting to get birth control at the student clinic. While wearing a paper gown. While sitting on an exam table. Because he’s the doctor. Shoot. Me.
But what if, for once, the man I’ve had the dirtiest, most scandalous fantasies about turned out to be everything but wrong?
Grab your copy here…
Wrong (Wrong Series #1)
"Sophie, your favorite customer is here." Everly snaps a towel on my ass and grins at me.
"Everly, shut up! He'll hear you."
Fuck, I'm already blushing. Luke. He comes into the coffee shop every Tuesday morning. It's the highlight of my morning shift at Grind Me, a coffee shop just off campus. I work around my classes at the University of Pennsylvania. The Grind Me location I work at caters mainly to professionals and students living in off-campus apartments.
Luke definitely falls into the professional category. I'm not sure what he does, but he strolls into Grind Me in very expensive-looking suits and sharp ties. Nothing like the college boys in athletic pants and graphic-print tee shirts. He must be ten, fifteen years older than me. It doesn't matter. He's beautiful and I have a bit of a thing for him, which is bad because I have a boyfriend. An age-appropriate boyfriend. But it's just a harmless crush, right?
But Luke… he makes my panties wet just ordering coffee. He's tall, over six feet by my estimate. Thick dark hair, brown eyes and eyelashes any girl would kill for. He's wearing a dark gray suit today with a plum-colored tie. Fucking swoon.
His hands, I'm a little obsessed with them. Long fingers ending in short, impeccably clean nails. They just look… capable. I have a lot of fantasies involving his hands and my body. He's gotta know what he's doing with those hands. I bet he could get me off in minutes—those perfect fingers would know just where to curve while his thumb pressed down on my clit. He could probably make me come one-handed while he finished a phone call on his cell with the other.
I have a lot of fantasies about Luke based on nothing more than pouring him a cup of coffee every Tuesday and ringing him up. Always cash. I have no idea what his last name is. I wouldn't even know his first name if I hadn't listened in to one of his calls while he pulled a twenty from his wallet. "It's Luke, tell Dr. Kallam it's urgent, I'll hold."
Unfortunately, I don't think my fantasies are returned. I don't think he'd even know my name if it wasn't stamped in bold on a pin stuck to the front of my apron.
"Sophie." He always addresses me by name. Good morning, Sophie. I'll have the dark roast, Sophie. I think you have a bit of whipped cream on your nose, Sophie. That stuff splatters, okay? "Sophie?" Oh, shit. Has he been talking to me while I fantasized?
"Sorry! Um, daydreaming." He smirks at me. Bastard. "Large dark roast?"
"Please." He slides a five-dollar bill across the counter. "Have a great day, Sophie." He smiles again as he turns and strolls out of the shop. I watch him walk, free to eye-fuck him without being caught. The door jingles shut behind him but I keep watching until he's out of sight.
"Whew, that was hot." Everly fans herself with a takeout bag. "Sexual tension. Is it warm in here?"
"Stop it."
She loves teasing me. We go through this every week. He must hear her snickering in the background. And she ensures I'm the one who waits on him every time. If she's at the counter when he arrives she immediately finds something else to do so she can step back and watch me ogle him. It's embarrassingly obvious.
"Enough of the mysterious hottie. Are you going to put out and fuck Mike or not? You've made him wait like, a month? That's a long time in horny college-boy time. Plus, you're the oldest virgin on campus. Not even our campus. All the campuses."
"It's not my fault I dated a gay guy for two years." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and cross my arms across my chest. I'm a little defensive about this.
"Hello? Earth to delusional. You didn't find it odd you were dating a twenty-year-old guy who never tried to stick his dick in you?" Everly dumps beans into the industrial-sized grinder and raises a skeptical eyebrow in my direction. I hand her a stack of one-pound Grind Me bags labeled for individual sale and lean against the opposite counter.
"I thought he respected me, not that he was afraid of vaginas," I tell her, kicking the rubber mat on the floor over an inch. "He let me suck him off." I add this in, hoping it's a valid point in my defense.
Everly snorts. "Yeah, with the lights off."
I bite my lip and look away.
"Oh my God! I was joking. I'm so sorry, Sophie. Shit, seriously? Guys love to watch themselves get s
ucked. But Scott was probably picturing a dude while his dick was in your mouth, so… Oh, fuck. I’m making this worse." Everly drops the coffee bag under the dispenser. Beans scatter across the counter and drop to the floor while she grabs me into a giant hug. "Lots of guys would love to fuck you, Sophie. I promise. Like Luke. That guy would love to stick it in you, he's just concerned you're jailbait. But you should start with Mike anyway. Tall, dark and handsome looks like he's packing a donkey dick."
"You've got a really charming way with words, Everly. You should write a book or something." I break out of her hug and grab the broom to sweep the coffee beans off the floor.
"Anyway, it's a go with Mike, right? Just get it over with. Mike will do, he's hot. I'd fuck him."
"Everly!"
"I wouldn't do him without a condom though. Safety first. And tell me you made an appointment with the student clinic. You should always have two forms of birth control, because I'm not ready to be a grandmother." Everly hops up onto the back counter and watches me sweep. "You missed a few to your left."
"Everly, you're twenty-one and we're not related. You wouldn't be the grandmother."
"Whatever. Semantics."
"That's not what semantics means. What are you majoring in again?" I glance over as she swipes a muffin from the bakery case and peels the wrapper back.
"I'm majoring in Professor Camden," she replies around a mouthful of muffin. "Which is better than this muffin. Jesus. Who pays for this crap?"
"Not you, clearly," I observe as she tosses the muffin into the trash. "Yes. I have an appointment at the clinic today after shift. I shaved my legs and everything." I pull an elastic from my wrist and gather my long brown hair into a ponytail before bending down to sweep Everly's mess into a dustpan.
