The Stocking Was Hung(29)

Oh, hell no! I have plans with a naked women tonight. I will never be able to get a boner again if I have to spend the next hour out in the freezing cold listening to Reggie yell at me about milk.

A few seconds later, Noel comes running into the room, grabbing an extra coat off of the hook by the back door and slipping her feet into a big, clunky pair of her father’s boots.

“WHERE THE HELL ARE ALL THE EXTENSION CORDS? WHO HID MY EXTRA FUSES? BEV, CALL THE COPS, WE’VE BEEN ROBBED!”

Reggie’s muffled voice echoes from the basement below us, followed by the crash of something falling down there with him.

“NEVER MIND! FOUND THE FUSES! NICHOLAS, GO TO HOME DEPOT AND GET ME FIFTEEN CHRISTMAS TREES, STAT! JOHN BARKER THREE HOUSES DOWN HAS TEN MORE THAN ME. I WILL NOT LET THAT BASTARD BEAT ME THIS YEAR!”

“Jesus God,” Nicholas mutters. “He’s lost his f*cking mind.”

Noel finishes buttoning up the coat and yanks a scarf off of the coat stand, wrapping it around her neck. “Be nice. This lighting contest is the only thing he has to live for.”

“What about mom?” Nicholas asks.

“FOR CHEDDAR’S SAKE, REGGIE, YOU ARE NOT BUYING FIFTEEN CHRISTMAS TREES, YOU STUPID OLD FART!” their mother shouts down to their father from the living room.

“You were saying?” Noel asks her brother, turning her big green eyes toward me.

I watch quietly as they widen pleadingly like a little puppy dog.

“Will you please come out and help?” she asks me, her lips turning down in a cute little pouty frown.

Fucking hell. So much for my naked woman plans.

With a sigh of defeat, I get up from my chair as Noel claps her hands together with glee, quickly grabbing another coat from the hook next to her and tossing it in my direction.

Yep, it’s official. When I’d rather do anything to see that look on Noel’s face instead of having her naked and on top of me, I think it’s time to admit defeat and throw in the towel.

“DON’T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO, DEVIL WOMAN!” Reggie hollers from the basement. “NICHOLAS! I DON’T HEAR YOU GETTING IN THE CAR AND GETTING ME MY DAMN TREES! NOEL, START CHECKING THE BULBS ON SANTA’S WORKSHOP AND SPRAY SOME AIR FRESHENER IN THERE. SAM, YOU BETTER RUN BECAUSE THAT PLACE SMELLS LIKE YOU’VE BEEN DRINKING MILK IN IT!”

I quickly throw on the coat Noel tossed to me and let her grab my hand and pull me outside into the snow before Reggie comes up here and shoves that entire box of fuses up my ass.

Defeat isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I have fallen for this woman and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Aside from run away from her Christmas-light-crazy father.





Chapter 11




Noel


“This is dumb. I feel dumb,” I complain as paper rustles when I put my hands on my hips.

“Humor me. Turn around, slowly.” Sam’s lips curl up in a devilish smile as he lounges back on my bed with his hands under his head.

I’m standing in my childhood bedroom, with hundreds of strangers traipsing through my parent’s yard outside, wearing nothing but a scrap of white wrapping paper with blue sparkly snowflakes on it. I feel like an idiot, but the dreamy, lustful look on Sam’s face as he watches me slowly turn around makes it a little better.

We spent exactly thirty minutes outside in the snow earlier checking bulbs and making sure the display looked okay before sneaking back inside the empty house. After my mother made us pose for a family photo in front of the house, of course. Yet another family tradition, but this time, I had to practically drag Sam into the picture. He didn’t feel right being in the photo, but I insisted. I couldn’t imagine looking at that photo years from now and not having that memory of him standing beside me, with his arm flung over my shoulder, smiling happily into the camera.

Years from now when I’m still alone, not settled down, and miserable without him.

Nope, I will not think about that now or this little Christmas paper fashion show will be ruined with snot and tears and me looking pathetic.

“You are so f*cking hot,” Sam whispers from my bed as I finish my turn.

His words make me feel like less of an idiot as I wear nothing but wrapping paper taped around my body in the shape of an extremely short, strapless dress. I crinkle when I move, and good God why is the overhead light still on? It’s too bright in here, making me feel even more foolish.

With two quick claps of my hands, the bright light extinguishes and the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room turns on, bathing the room in soft twinkling lights instead.

“What are you doing? Now I can’t see that hot body of yours?” Sam asks, clapping his own hands.

The bright light blinds me when it flashes back on and I stomp my foot, immediately clapping my hands in irritation.

“It’s too bright in here, and I feel dumb.”

In reply, Sam sits up on my bed and—clap, clap.

“Dammit, cut it out! It’s better with the light off,” I whine.

Clap, clap.

“No, YOU cut it out. I can’t see just how hot you are and dream about slowly unwrapping you without the light on,” he fires back.

Clap, clap.

Clap, clap.

Clap, clap.

We got back and forth until the flashing of my bedroom light looks like a strobe light and my eyes start to go all squirrelly and I can barely even see Sam anymore.