Under The Mistletoe: A Holiday Short Story
ALANA SAPPHIRE
Copyright 2017 Alana Sapphire
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are fictitious or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products or works mentioned.
Thank you for purchasing this eBook. This eBook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. This eBook, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
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Cover designed by Alana Sapphire © 2017
Sydney
Jake
Sydney
Jake
Sydney
Jake
Other Books by Alana
About The Author
Cody, North Dakota.
Going back to my hometown after all this time will be strange. Ten years ago, I bought a one-way ticket to New York and haven’t looked back. Until now. If my parents weren’t still there, I would have stayed away permanently. Over the years, they’ve always come to visit me, but never at Christmas. I’ve been able to avoid the small town where I grew up, but the guilt of disappointing my folks yet again, got to me this year. The joy in my mom’s voice when I gave her the news was enough to make this trip worthwhile. It’s not that I don’t like the town, there are just too many memories; memories of the life I traded for the one I have now. I only hope I’m strong enough to face them.
I slow my rental down when the snow makes visibility difficult. I’m about an hour from the small ranch I used to call home, and this is going to make things worse. Using the voice dial feature on my phone, I call my parents.
“Hello? Sydney?”
“Hi, Mom. I just called to say I might be a bit late. I just left the airport, but the snow’s really coming down.”
“Oh, honey, be careful. Stop if you need to until it eases up.”
“I will. Where’s Dad?”
“Sitting in front of the TV, as usual, waiting for dinner.”
“What are you making?” Mom’s cooking is one of the few things I’ll enjoy about being home.
“I made your winter-time favorite—beef stew. There may also be some apple pies in the oven.”
My stomach growls.
“Oh, God, I can’t wait to get there. That sounds amazing, Mom.”
“Okay, Sydney. Be careful. I’m so glad you’re coming home.”
“Me, too. I’ll see you later.”
Blowing out an exasperated breath, I soldier on. By the time I pass the “Welcome to Cody” sign, the sun has called it a day. Without its light, I can only see a few feet ahead of me. I keep going for as long as I can before I pull over on what I think is the side of the road. The snow isn’t coming down too hard, but there are no street lights and the roads are completely covered, so I think it’s safest not to continue. Seems like I might have to take Mom’s advice. Looking around, I try to figure out where I am. There’s no signal on my phone, but if my GPS is right, I’m far enough into town that I’ll know someone around here. However, I don’t see any lights.
Grabbing a chocolate bar and a bottle of water from my backpack, I settle into the heated seat and turn up my audiobook. The male narrator has one of the sexiest voices I’ve ever heard, and I can’t wait to get to the steamy scenes. He has that deep, raspy rumble thing going on that gives my lady parts the hiccups. Then again, maybe it’s not such a good idea to get myself all worked up while I’m stranded in a snowstorm. I glance out the window and spot what I think is a light in the distance.
Thank God.
It’s not too far away, but with the weather, it will be a bit of a trek to get there. I weigh my options, deciding it’s better than sitting out here for God knows how long. Searching the glove compartment, I find a flashlight. I bundle up in my coat, scarf, beanie, and gloves, then grab my bag and brace for the cold. The frosty wind hits me in the face the moment I open the door. Resisting the urge to stay in the warmth of the SUV, I hop out. I keep my eye on the light, hoping it doesn’t go out before I get to it. As I move forward, I miss the SUV more and more. My nose burns from the cold, and is probably bright red by now, turning me into a human Rudolph. I fight against the howling wind, its sound blocking out everything else to my equally burning ears. To keep my mind off the cold, I concentrate on the faint scent of burning wood in the distance. Fireplaces. What I wouldn’t do to be in front of one right now.
About halfway to the house, the snow gets knee-deep. My thigh muscles burn from the exertion of having to take higher steps, but I keep going, leaning forward in an effort to prevent myself from being blown away. Being stuck in the SUV is more appealing than ever. God, please don’t let me freeze to death out here. What the hell was I thinking?
The Big Man seems to be listening tonight because I make it to the house with the light shining brightly through the window.
“He… hello?” I call out, banging my numb fingers on the door.
It opens seconds later, and my brown eyes meet steely blue. They open wide in shock, no doubt mirroring my own. Shock turns to annoyance, then downright anger. If I wasn’t already freezing my buns off, that stare would have done the trick.
Jake Maston.
Christ. Just my luck I’d end up on his doorstep.
“What are you doing out there?” he snaps. “Get in.”
Somehow I get my feet to move and slip by him. Sniffling, I hurry to the fireplace to the left, distracting myself until I can figure out what to say.
“Well, this is certainly a surprise.”
I slowly turn to face him, keeping my eyes on his chest. A chest that seems broader and more developed than the last time I saw it… touched it.
“Sorry to drop in like this.” My voice is weak, and I don’t know why. He shouldn’t be having this effect on me. “I was on my way home… got stuck in the storm. I saw your light and figured I could wait it out with a neighbor. I… I didn’t know this was your place.”
“Humph,” he grunts. “Warm up. I just made a pot of coffee. I’ll get you a cup.”
“Thank you.”
I rid myself of my bag and outdoor gear, squatting down on the rug by the fireplace to wait for his return. I take in my surroundings, noting it’s a perfect mix of homey and bachelor pad. My mom told me he’d sold his dad’s place, but I had no idea this is where he’d moved to.
“You still like it spoiled?”
“Huh?” I glance up at Jake, clueless as to what he means.
“Your coffee.” He raises the mug before handing it to me. “As much sugar and cream you like in it, it’s spoiled.”
With a smile, I wrap my hands around the mug, welcoming the heat.
“Yes, I still like it that way. I assume you still take it black?”
“Only way to drink it.”
“Whatever.” I take a sip, then quickly swallow as I think of my parents. They must be worried sick. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to call Mom and Dad.”
“Sure,” he answers, expression still grim as he passes me the cordless landline.
My father picks up on the first ring. “Sydney, is that you?”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Thank God. Where are you?”
“I couldn’t see a thing so I stopped at a neighbor’s house.” I steal a quick glance at Jake. “I’m at Jake’s.”
“Good. He’ll take care of you. You should stay the night and head out when things
calm down.”
Stay the night? I can’t stay here all night! Not with him! “Um… I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay. Just glad to know you’re safe. See you in the morning. Love you, punkin.”
“Love you, too.”
Hanging up, I pass the phone back to Jake. He accepts it, his eyes boring into me, mind lost in thought. I take him in, comparing him to the image stored in my mind. It’s been ten years since I’ve seen or spoken to him, but it hasn’t faded. He’s even more handsome than he was at age twenty. That one lock of his thick, wavy dark hair still curls over his forehead. He now sports a closely-trimmed mustache and beard, but I’d recognize him anywhere.
Jake Maston was my first… everything. He was my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first time. He wasn’t the one who got away, and for him, neither was I. I left him behind and I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for it.
“Sydney George…” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Never thought I’d see you again.”
“Yeah, well… I got sick of disappointing my folks.”
“They told me you were coming, but I didn’t believe it.”
I’m not surprised to hear he keeps in contact with my parents. My mom makes it her point of duty to give me updates on him.
“Yeah. My mother told me about Sue.” My gaze drops to the rug. “I’m sorry. She was a good woman.”
Jake clears his throat. “She was. Damn good wife, too.”
“Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. What about you? I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
“No husband. Never been married either.” Uncomfortable with the conversation, I fidget with the hem of my sweater.
“I see. You hungry? Your mom sent me some stew.”
“She did?” I brave his stare once more, but only because I’m surprised.
“Yeah. A whole apple pie, too.”
Thank you, Mom! “I’d love some. Thank you.”
He leaves me once more, and I turn to the fireplace, gazing into the flames. Only hours back, and I get caught in a storm, then end up on Jake’s doorstep. Some people would call that fate, but I choose to see it as a simple coincidence. My time with Jake has passed. I moved on and so did he. We couldn’t work ten years ago, and there’s no way we’d work now. I have to admit, the time we did spend together is probably the highlight of my life. We started dating our senior year of high school and were joined at the hip. Everyone thought we’d end up getting married… even Jake. I guess it wasn’t meant to be.
“Here you go.” He re-enters the room, pulling me from my thoughts.
The scent of my mom’s stew beckons me like the steam from those old cartoons. Jake places a tray by my folded legs, then drops back down in his recliner.
“Figured you wouldn’t want to move from the fire.”
“Thanks.” I rub my hands together, licking my lips before tearing off a piece of buttered bread and dipping it in the stew. “Mmm….” I can’t help the moan as I chew.
Jake doesn’t speak, only watches me while I eat. It’s a little discomfiting, but I’m too hungry to care. I clean my plate, wash it down with coffee, and then let out a satisfied sigh.
“Have room for pie?” he asks as he picks up the tray.
“There’s always room for pie, Jake.”
For the first time tonight, he cracks a small smile and I’m reminded of the happy, carefree boy I used to know.
“Good to know you still have a healthy appetite.”
“Food is life. I don’t eat to live, I live to eat,” I announce, rubbing my stomach in circles.
This time he chuckles but tries to hide it by coughing and walking away. He returns with two slices of pie and two mugs of coffee.
“Oh, my God, I may not want to leave if Mom cooks like this the entire time I’m here.”
“How long you staying?”
“A week.”
“Have to get back to your big New York job, huh?”
Whatever reprieve we shared is over. He’s back to being The Grinch and back to hating me. I set aside my empty plate, taking a deep breath.
“Jake….”
“Don’t bother.” He walks to the window, peering out before continuing, “Still pretty bad out there. Looks like you’ll have to stay the night. I’ll get you some blankets. The couch is a pull-out.”
He marches off before I can object, returning with a pillow, sheets, and a blanket.
“Jake, you don’t—”
“I know.”
I watch him make my bed, a scowl on his lips the entire time. God, why did I come back to Cody? What was I expecting? A welcome wagon? Maybe I thought I wouldn’t have to see Jake, but that was a long shot. Maybe I thought he’d forgiven me for what I did. Maybe…. Well, I guess it’s too late now.
“Thank you.”
He grunts in response, once again the man I found when I knocked on his door.
He clears our plates, throwing over his shoulder as he walks away, “Bathroom’s the first door on the left. See you in the morning… if you’re still here.”
Ouch.
I listen to the sounds of him moving around in the kitchen, watching the house get darker as he turns the lights off on his way to the bedroom. I dig through my backpack for something to sleep in, and then turn the light off in the living room. Hopefully, this storm ends and I can leave in the morning. I only need to survive tonight knowing Jake Maston is sleeping a few feet away.
I’m a jerk.
It’s not for my gruff manner or being short with Sydney. No, it’s because I’m standing in the dark, watching her undress. Her back is turned, so she doesn’t know I’m here. I came to check if she needed anything before I turned in. Instead, I was struck dumb by the sight of her skin, glowing golden in the firelight. Her brown hair is longer now—past her waist—but that’s not the only thing that’s changed. She has the curves of a woman, not the girl I remember. I spent so many hours learning every inch of that body. Ten years has done nothing to dull the memories, but the situation in my pajama bottoms tells me I’d love the chance to reacquaint myself with it.
I’m a pervert.
I back away, trying to move as quietly as I can. I thought I gave up on Sydney George a long time ago. I thought she was out of my system. One look at her smooth skin and I’m transported back to the first time I touched her all those years ago. She was always so outgoing and energetic, but that night… that night she stared up at me with big brown eyes, scared and uncertain. We were so young… just kids, but from then I knew she was going to be my wife. Too bad she had different plans. Sydney didn’t just leave. She left me at a time when I needed her most. It’s not that I’m still angry, just disappointed. I’m disappointed in myself that after all this time, memories of her affect me this deeply.
Climbing into bed, I push her out of my mind. There’s no point in thinking about what could have been. Sydney can never be mine. I accepted that ten years ago.
It’s been a while since I was woken up by pots and pans clanging against each other. Two years to be exact. Sue was always up before me and tried to be quiet while making breakfast, but it never worked out.
Sue.
It’s been two years since the accident that took her. Some idiot on his cell phone ran a red light. They said she died instantly. I never gave her the life she deserved, and now she’s gone. She always said she was second-best, but she didn’t mind because she loved me enough for the both of us. Despite what she believed, I didn’t settle for her. I just couldn’t open my heart to love her the way I should have. I didn’t want to get hurt again.
Glancing out the window, I find the sun beginning to peek out. It’s stopped snowing. I need some time before I face Sydney again, so I brush my teeth, shower, and get dressed. Finally gathering the courage, I head to the kitchen where the scents of coffee and breakfast are floating from.
“Good morning.”
Startled, she almost jumps a mile.
 
; “Jake! You scared the hell out of me. You sure move quiet for such a big man.”
“Something you know nothing about.”
That came out harsher than I wanted it to. She averts her eyes, motioning to two breakfast-laden plates.
“I’m sorry. I was…. Sorry. I’ll just clean up and get out of your hair.”
She moves to the sink, and I watch her clean up the mess. Damn it. What am I doing? It can’t be healthy to hold a grudge for this long. What happened between us can’t be changed. I need to leave the past in the past.
While she’s drying her hands, I pick up the plates and take them to the table. She made me breakfast, so the least I can do is be civil. However, she doesn’t accept my olive branch, heading for the living room.
“Sydney, eat.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
I didn’t have one to begin with, so I head for the coffee pot. I need to get ahold of myself. She’ll be gone again in a few days and things will go back to normal. Besides, I probably won’t even see her after today. After finishing my coffee, I go in search of her.
“Sydney?”
The living room is empty. The bed is a couch once more, the sheets and blanket neatly folded on top.
“Sydney!” I call out, but I’m met with silence.
That’s when I notice her boots and bag are gone. I look out the window, seeing a trail of footsteps leading away from the house. Damn it. Grabbing my winter gear, I hurry to the shed for my snowmobile and follow the tracks. I find her SUV first. Looks like she tried to clean it off but realized it was pointless. Another set of tracks start in front of the vehicle. Looking ahead, I spot her in the distance. I don’t know how she got so far so fast, but Sydney has always been a determined woman.
As I approach, she turns around to investigate the noise. I pull up alongside her, fully intending to apologize, but she stomps off once she realizes it’s me. Turning off the snowmobile, I chase her on foot.
“Sydney, wait!”
“For what? Wasn’t I quiet enough when I left?” she asks, tone sarcastic. “Sorry about that.”