This December (Holiday Mode)

Chapter 1

December James

South Lake Tahoe, CA

These gorgeous chalets were a dime a dozen—and about a million miles away from my reality. My ancient Ford Explorer coasted to a stop on the chalet’s snow-covered driveway. My parents had gifted me the SUV when I’d graduated from high school almost a decade ago—and it’d been old then. But at least it was reliable in Tahoe’s ridiculous winter months. Lord knew, it’d been unwieldy in San Jose back in my old life.

I got out of the SUV with a huge sigh. San Jose felt like a lifetime away. Trudging through the six inches of snow still blanketing the chalet’s driveway, I comforted myself with the thought that at least I didn’t have to shovel the mile long driveway here. As I reached the back of my car, I hit the button to open the rear hatch then surveyed the bags and bags of groceries I was here to deliver. This was going to take so many trips. And why paper? I could’ve saved myself half the trips if I had plastic handles to hold.

With another shoulder heaving sigh, I grabbed the two bags nearest me and started the journey to the ornate front door. The snow was so thick and heavy, each step felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Or maybe that was the weight of my disappointment pressing me down.

I didn’t pause to appreciate the gorgeous “cabin” with its lodgepole framed front porch or the cathedral windows overhead that pointed at the surrounding forest when I reached the steps to the porch. I tromped to the door, set the bags down against the wall, and returned to my SUV to do it all over again.

On my third trip, I cursed the douche who’d ordered a twenty pound bag of potatoes to be delivered when I heard a telltale riiiipp followed by a soft thud then glug, glug, glug .

Half a gallon of oat milk was currently washing over my boots and the driveway in a slow but steady spurt.

As I reached to grab it, the potatoes shifted, and I slipped on the spilled milk then went down. Beets, kale, and cherry tomatoes rained down on me as I lay sprawled on the driveway in the middle of all the destruction.

Stunned for a second, I blinked up at the gray sky.

Then the insanity of the moment hit me, and I full-on belly laughed. I was twenty-six, laid off from my career earning job, now living with my parents again, and delivering groceries to pay off my mammoth student loans. And I was almost taken out by half a gallon of oat milk.

How was this my life?

Fuck it.

I dropped the potatoes I’d still been inexplicably clutching and waved my arms and legs, making an impromptu snow angel while laughing like a loon.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?”

My giggles trailed off as I found myself staring up at a gorgeous man in a sheepskin jacket. It was almost like I’d conjured him from my dreams; he had everything I loved in a man. The short cropped brown hair. The mischievous brown eyes. Dark brown stubble covering his cheeks and jawline. When he reached out to give me a hand up, I noticed the silver bands on a few of his fingers. And I knew he had style and a bit of attitude without him saying another word.

“Miss?” He frowned when I didn’t take his offered hand. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“Nope. Just damaged my ego there for a minute.” I gave him a wan smile and wiggled my hands out of the snow.

He tilted his head and took a step back, dropping his offered hand. “So you decided to make a snow angel?”

I shrugged and sat up. “Seemed like the thing to do. I haven’t had a chance to play in the new powder yet.”

He blinked a couple of times then a smile curved his lips. “When in Rome, I guess.”

“Or Tahoe.” Putting my hands under me, I attempted to push myself up when he stepped back toward me and grabbed me, easily pulling me to my feet. “Ah, thanks.”

“No problem. You made a pretty good angel.”

I thought for a second he was complimenting me. My cheeks heated with my flush until I realized he was looking down at the driveway and the imprint I’d made.

Right.

I laughed at myself and his praise. “I never get the head right. It always reminds me of a tick—big body, little head.”

He swung his gaze to me and this time I definitely wasn’t imagining the heat in his eyes as he looked at me. “Nah, I’d definitely say you’re proportional.”

Sexual tension crackled between us. Did he really say that? Wow. Combining all that was him with that smolder in his eyes, it was suddenly hard to breathe.

“The angel!” He all but shouted after a long beat. “Your angel is proportional. Not—I wasn’t saying you…” This time his cheeks were the ones to redden.

I grinned. That was clearly a lie. The fact that I could fluster this man had me brimming with confidence. And power. “Right. The angel. Totally understood what you said.”

He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we forget I said that? Maybe I can give you a hand with all this?”

The smile slid off my face. Right. The reason I was here—to deliver groceries—not to flirt with the gorgeous man who I’d rattled with my snow angel abilities and not my body.

I pushed my blonde hair out of my face with a grimace. “Contrary to appearances, I’ve got it. I’m a total professional—I swear.”

“Let me help. It’ll go faster with two people.”

I smiled wanly. “Sure.”

He grabbed the big bag of potatoes, and I collected all the vegetables I could that were strewn across the driveway. The milk was a total loss as was the wet paper bag responsible for it all. Once I reached the front door, I distributed the vegetables to the other bags and headed for my car again.

We silently collected more bags and after two trips the lot was delivered. I fumbled my phone out of my coat pocket.

“Do you mind if we don’t take a selfie?” my mystery man asked with a sudden frown. “I’m trying to keep my location on the down low while I’m here.”

I sent him a confused look. So he was famous as well as rich? Okay. “Uh, yeah. Sure. If you could step to the left, you’ll be out of frame. I just need a picture of the delivery for my company.”

His cheeks colored for a second time in as many minutes, and he took a few exaggerated steps away.

I took a photo of the groceries then opened a text through the delivery app. “I’m notifying them about the damaged goods. You won’t be charged for the oat milk or the cherry tomatoes. If you’d like, I can make another run to grab replacements for you at no charge.”

“Oh. Uh, no. That’s okay. I don’t even drink oat milk. I just placed a repeat order to keep it simple. This is more than I need.”

“Right. Well, enjoy your time in Tahoe. Again, sorry for the mess.” I waved a hand at his driveway.

“I kinda thought it was more a work of art.”

“That’s me, the Jackson Pollack of grocery delivery.”

“Or Banksy maybe?”

I laughed. “Does that mean you won’t be removing the snow from your driveway? Now you’ll have to preserve it for the ages. Maybe pour some resin over it?”

“That’d make it hell to pull into the garage.”

I turned and surveyed the driveway and garage approach and sadly shook my head. “It’d be a sacrifice but totally worth it. The things we do for art.”

He laughed, and I could’ve sworn he muttered “you have no idea” under his breath.

“Anyhow, I have more deliveries to hustle through before nightfall. Take care.” I lifted my hand in an awkward wave that he returned.

I could feel his gaze on my back the whole way back to my car. As I opened the driver door, I peeped back over my shoulder, and sure enough, he was standing on the porch staring my way. Watching me. No doubt wondering what the hell just happened.

Ditto, my man. Ditto.

* * *

By the time I got home, it was well past dusk, but my parents’ house was lit up with Christmas lights and an endless well of Christmas cheer when I stomped through the mudroom to get all the snow off my boots.

“December, honey? Is that you?” Mom called from the kitchen.

One thing I would never regret about moving back into my parents’ house was the wonderful food always on tap. Right now the scent of a roast and fresh baked rolls wafted through the house and made my stomach growl.

“It’s me, Mom. I’m just going to wash up.”

“Okay. Hurry, please. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

I smiled wryly at the Christmas décor covering every available surface as I made my way to the powder room off the mudroom to wash my hands. In our family, the holiday started November first—screw Thanksgiving, thank you very much. The second the witch and ghost decorations got packed up, Christmas trees, wreaths, inflatable Santas, snowflakes, nutcrackers, and lights galore exploded and rained down their kitschy cheer on the James household.

My mom loved Christmas. There was a reason my first name was December.

As I climbed the stairs to the living room, conversations and Christmas music filtered down to me. A deep, mellow voice sang about the most beautiful time of year.

“…still delivering groceries?” my sister, Belle, asked.

“She hasn’t heard back from any of the places she’s applied?” Aspyn asked after a pause.

“It’s the holidays, guys.” my third sister, Chrissy, protested as I stood unseen a few steps down the stairs. “You know most businesses don’t hire until after the new year.”

“Considering she got canned in October, that doesn’t say much about her prospects,” Aspyn retorted.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall against the wall next to me. Nothing like feeling so small for the holidays. Thank you very much, Aspyn.

“You gotta give the kid a break,” Aspyn’s husband, Matt, said. “She’s still figuring things out.”

“She’s not a baby anymore. She’s twenty-six,” Aspyn cried. “She’ll keep acting like a clueless kid as long as you all treat her like one. At her age, I was married with a baby on the way.”

“Not everyone has the good fortune to meet an awesome guy like me,” Matt drawled.

The conversation fell back into softer rumbles that I couldn’t hear from my perch.

But I’d heard enough.

I was a screw-up and always would be in my family’s eyes.

It didn’t matter that I’d been laid off from my job in marketing at a tech start up. It wasn’t even my fault. Cutbacks meant that the last hired was the first fired.

Would a screw-up finish their degree even though every class slowly killed the joy in my life? Would a screw-up get a job in said industry to pay off their student loans? Even though going into the office every day felt akin to a slow march toward death?

Chrissy’s sweet face popped into view as she walked toward me. She gave me a wonky smile. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” I looked away, tears sheening my gaze. Tears I was ashamed of. “I’m not really hungry. I think I’ll head upstairs and poke around some job postings.”

“Come have dinner. Don’t let the fact that Aspyn has her head up her ass drive you away from Mom’s awesome roast. Come on. I’m starving.”

I chuckled, swiped at my eyes, and let my sister pull me toward the kitchen where Mom’s amazing spread was all laid out. And where my sisters, M & M & M (my nickname for their husbands, Matt, Michael, and Myles) and our parents were sitting around the table.

“There she is!” my dad exclaimed like I was returning from war. It was impossible not to smile as his love washed over me. My dad was amazing.

“Hey, Dad. How was your day?” I asked as I took my seat at the end near him.

“Just another day in paradise—towing clueless city boys out of snowbanks. I love this time of year.”

I laughed. He had to love it, considering how much my mom loved it too. I always wondered if he even weighed in on our names. How many men would pick out the names Aspyn, Belle, Chrissy, and December? We all knew he was whipped. And he loved it.

Because he loved Mom and us so much.

I smiled at the sight of them holding hands under the table. Like it was a guilty secret. My parents were couple’s goals.

Between their gooey love and my three sisters’ marriages, I’d always been the one left out. It hadn’t bothered me much in San Jose. But then again, it hadn’t been rubbed in my face on a daily basis there.

Damn, I was a sad sack. This day just kept kicking me in the nuts. Fun times.

I gave my dad a wan smile, accepted the platter of roast beef from him, and forked some on my plate. Looking around the table, the lack of chaos finally hit me. “Where are the rugrats?”

“They already ate,” Belle answered across the table. “The littles are down for the night and the bigs are in the basement torturing Maple and Honey who are on babysitting duty.”

My eyebrows went up at the thought of my parents’ golden retrievers being babysitters. That sounded legit and not at all like the plot to a Christmas movie. And then the first part of her statement hit me. “You’re all sleeping over tonight?”

“It’s December 13,” Mom said like that was an obvious answer.

And maybe it explained some of the tension I’d walked in on. I’d forgotten our family Christmas slumber party—and the kickoff to my mom’s crazy Twelve Days of Christmas. Tonight we were supposed to all get in pjs and watch the Grinch steal Christmas, Kevin be Home Alone , and Buddy the Elf navigate New York City.

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. “Did I miss Elf ?”

Mom sighed and sent me the look. “No, we saved it for after dinner in the hopes you’d finally show up. Much to the distress of the younger kids who won’t be up.”

“I’m sorry, guys. Today was the day from hell. I dropped a delivery, literally fell on my ass, and then had to do some extra runs since so many drivers called in sick. Which really means they’re on the slopes. I’ll make it up to the littles. You know I can’t watch too much Elf .”

“Maybe you should take it as a sign to devote more time to your job hunt and less time driving around rich assholes’ groceries,” Aspyn snarked.

“And how would that pay off my student loans? You know what those are, right?” I raised my eyebrows at my sister, knowing full well she didn’t go to college. She worked maybe one year as a receptionist at a resort before getting married and popping out babies, so now she stayed home with the kids. A job she loved and good for her, but I was so over her being all up in my business like she knew everything.

She glared at me. “Like you have that much debt. You went to community college for a few years, plus I know for a fact that Mom and Dad helped you pay for stuff.”

“Really? So why do I currently owe the US government twenty grand? Money they kinda want back, by the way.” After working and paying on my loans for three years, it felt like that number was never going to change.

“Girls, can we please have one dinner when you’re not at each other’s throats?” Mom asked with that disappointed tone that always made me feel two inches tall.

“She started it,” I grumbled.

Aspyn glared at me from across the table but had enough manners not to respond.

For a few minutes, the only sound at the table was the scraping of our utensils on our plates and the Christmas music filtering in from the living room. A song about a lovelorn man wishing his ex a merry Christmas.

And that was when it hit me.

“Cole Jackson!” I suddenly yelled.

Everyone jumped then turned to give me confused looks.

“Yes,” Belle nodded slowly. “This is Cole Jackson. Gold star for you, December.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes. No way was I explaining that I’d met Cole Jackson today while I was flat on my back making snow angels in the wreckage of his groceries.

Or that he’d looked me over like he was interested in me.

But the knowledge did buoy my fragile ego.

Maybe today wasn’t the worst day ever after all.