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The whole town is decked out in Christmas cheer; lights twinkle from every shop window and wreaths hang on every business door. The lamp posts all have giant red bows adorning them; it looks like a holiday store puked all over the town. I hate it.
Irritation flares inside me at the sight. Freaking Christmas time. Growing up in foster care, the holidays were never pleasant, and as I’ve gotten older, my resentment has only grown. This time of year holds no joy, only loneliness and heartbreak. Very merry bah humbug. Just call me the Grinch.
Without warning, Winnie pulls hard on her leash. It’s wrapped around my bad wrist and a shock of pain shoots up my arm, but I still try to get her under control as she tows me excitedly down the cobblestone path. Sweat pops up on my skin as I tug her harder, trying to get control, but she’s massive and I might as well be a fly.
“Fuck, stop,” I shout, but this damn dog is stubborn as hell as she charges up the street, pulling me in her wake. My legs lock, trying to slow her down, and I’m thankful the sidewalks are empty.
“Winnie, cut it out,” I grumble, just as she slows to a stop in front of yet another wreath-covered door. She looks back at me and tilts her head, flapping her ears around, before looking longingly up at the storefront again. Her tongue lolls out of her mouth, bubbles of drool forming before she lets loose a deep bark. She sniffs again and looks at me expectantly.
The sign says ‘New Moon Bakery’, and I can smell the sweet scent of cinnamon rolls and buttery croissants from outside, causing a growl to gurgle in my stomach.
“All right girl, I guess I owe you a treat for being a dick, huh?” I sigh, opening the door and stepping inside.
A brunette woman is humming a Christmas tune behind the counter and messing with the coffee machine; but the second the bell over the door trills, she spins around with an ear-to-ear smile.Why are all these people so happy and friendly?It kind of makes me want to ruin their day.
Her gaze strays from me to Winnie, and if possible, her grin widens.
“Hello, you must be Cole,” she chirps. Freaking small towns, everyone knows everything. “I’m Tilly, Drew’s fiancé.”
Well, I guess that makes sense. I remember seeing Drew pull that treat for Hot Dog out of a bag with this bakery’s logo.
“Uhhh, nice to meet you,” I mutter, not really meaning it. “I wanted to get some of those dog cookies or muffins or whatever you sell.”
“No problem,” she says, humming the Christmas tune once again as she packs a bag. “I’ll put an assortment in here and you can let me know next time what flavors she likes best. I’ll also put together a bag for you. There’s supposed to be a storm coming, and it never hurts to have some extra around.”
“Thanks,” I reply tersely; not one for small talk. She gives me the two bags and insists that the first visit is free. Freaking weird, but I’ll take it.
Tossing Winnie a treat, we head back to my car so we can gather our things and head up to the cabin. The flurries are picking up; not bad yet, but the ache in my arm tells me the storm is coming faster than they expect.
Time to get going up the mountain.
Chapter Two
Sloane
“Youhavegottobe kidding me, Sloane,” my brothers’ voice shrieks from the car speaker.
“I told you months ago that I wasn’t coming home for Christmas,” I calmly answer, peering out of my window. The snow is beginning to come down harder, so I flick the little switch to make the windshield wipers move faster. Glancing over at the GPS, the little line shows that I should arrive at my destination in just a few minutes. If it’s so close, why can’t I see the damn vacation rental yet?
“You’re a big boy. You can handle it. Stop trying to guilt me before you piss me off,” I grumble. He knows why I’m skipping seeing my parents, in particular my mother, this holiday season, and he is choosing to go, anyway. Not my circus, not my monkey.
“I know I can handle it,” he whines, and his voice slices through me like nails on a chalkboard, causing me to grit my teeth. “I’m just worried about you. You quit modeling and you need someone in your corner. You know I’m always on your side. I can skip being with our parents and come meet you at the cabin.”
And now I feel like a bitch.
“Honestly, I’m good. I just need some time, and space and quiet to wrap my head around everything. Figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life,” I admit, frustrated that he’s bringing up all the things I want to ignore.
“Turn left here,” the GPS says. Flicking on my blinker, I try to spot the road through the snow. White covers the ground and nerves flutter in my belly.You’re almost there. Then two blissful weeks of books, booze, and BOB.
“I’ve got to go booger face,” I joke. “I need to pay attention. The snow is starting to come down pretty fast.”
“Fine, but call me to check in so I know you’re okay. I love you, you know,” he says and all the annoyance I feel disappears.
“Will do, love you too,” I promise, ending the call.
My knuckles throb, my palms begin to sweat, and I grip the steering wheel as tightly as possible. Making the turn, I’m finally able to breathe when a tiny, cheerful cabin comes into view and I pull up in front; throwing the car into park. Quickly grabbing my bags from the back seat, I toss them over my shoulder and bend down to get my prize possession. The ceramic Christmas Tree, carefully wrapped in bubble wrap and my favorite fuzzy blanket. Artic wind blasts against me as I fight my way through it, painstakingly making my way toward the front door. It whistles eerily through the trees; in the span of only a few feet my eyes begin to sting as tears trickle down my face and my breath puffs out in white clouds.
It takes only moments, but it feels like an eternity before I reach the front porch. Opening my phone, I follow the rental instructions and find the key inside the lock box by the door. It unlocks easily, and I bustle into the house.
