Winter Wishlist

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

“Embrace your inner Ho Ho Ho.”

My cheeks go up in flames as I pull back the sparkly gold wrapping paper to reveal…

a monstrous, double-ended, neon pink strap-on.

Or is it technically a dildo for two? Either way, it’s ridged along the shaft with semi-realistic veins, a head at the end of the curved shaft, and comes complete with a fancy remote control.

“You got me a sex toy for Christmas?” I tilt my head to trap my phone between my ear and my shoulder.

In both hands, I lift the box containing the extremely well-endowed appendage, with a curved piece that I’m presuming fits inside the wearer, and scrunch my eyebrows together while juggling the call from my best friend.

“Don your shlong and deck down those halls. Or should I say dick down. Merry fucking and many happy orgasms to you.” Keri chuckles into the phone. “Actually, toys. Multiple. Emphasis on the S. We got you some other complimentary baubles, to increase the pleasure of the festive season, too.”

“You got me what?” I groan against the background noise of my car radio, pumping out Christmas carols, like I’ve set up camp at the North Pole and this is the only music genre that exists.

I swear to God, these artists defrost themselves annually, and then they’re everywhere, on a twenty-four-seven loop, until they retreat to their ice caves for the rest of the year.

“Time for you to live a little.”

“C’mon, I really don’t need to be drowning in sex toys. My love life isn’t that atrocious,” I protest weakly.

It absolutely is. We both know it.

On the other end of the line, I hear an undignified snort. “I fear we have radically different views of what your kitty is in need of. Think of us as your own personal elves, sprung from the workshop to help you acquire your very own pole for the holidays.”

Taking another glance at the half-unwrapped box reveals that, yep, as promised, there certainly are other items nestled against the tissue paper. Lube, condoms, a bullet vibe, and I’m pretty sure another smaller box tucked inside features a range of graduated butt plugs.

“I got you guys matching socks and a cat toy for Ginny.” My mortification catches in the back of my throat.

“And your thoughtful librarian side was showing. They’re super cute… in fact, I’m wearing mine right now. Can’t you hear me wiggling my cozy toes?”

My best friend’s wife calls out from somewhere in the background. “The socks are very cute, Mia. Although apparently, if I leave this deviant in charge of Christmas shopping, she decides to go with an X-rated theme. Let the record show I voted to get you Le Creuset.”

“Ugh. Booooring. Don’t blame me. Blame these sweet painkillers. Three a.m. kinky online shopping is a whole lot more fun with these puppies in my system.”

Even if I can’t see either of them, I can hear Sasha rolling her eyes. She’s a private chef, and forever attempts to pass her Immaculate, with a capital I, taste in kitchenwear onto me.

“Remember you told me when you got drunk on your birthday, that your Christmas wish was to know what it was like to fuck a guy?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I told you I wished to know what it was like to fuck a guy over for a change.”

“Semantics, dear Watson.” She scoffs. “Either way, now you’re prepared if you decide to turn your back on the male sex altogether, or if you do want to roleplay a Dommy Mommy Mrs. Claus, you’re perfectly equipped with 8.75 inches and a dozen vibration settings.”

Allowing my head to fall back against the seat, I let go of the double-ended phallic monster and drop everything onto the passenger seat beside my handbag.

“Thanks for giving me a heads up to open your gift a couple of days early at least,” I grumble while gnawing on the inside of my cheek.

“If you’d not only abandoned me for the holidays, but also left me to potentially open that in front of total strangers, I would have exploded from embarrassment. ”

“Look, what can I say? I chose to break my ankle with immaculate timing.” Keri clicks her tongue at me.

Letting out a sigh, I use my thumbnail to pick at the peeling plastic on my steering wheel.

“I know. I hate that for you. That really does suck all the joy out of the holiday season.” If there’s anything to guarantee I can’t be cross with my friends for bailing on our plans at the last minute, it’s the fact that Keri is currently propped up on the couch wearing a moonboot and unable to walk.

“See? At least you can get out and do fun shit this Christmas. Which is why you simply must allow me to live vicariously through you.”

“And by fun that apparently means…” I side-eye the gifts they’ve bestowed upon me.

“Fa-la-la-la-let-me-peg-you-pretty-please.” Keri cackles.

My cheeks heat. Let me just crawl into the footwell of my shitty sedan and wait out the New Year.

“You’re overly invested in this imaginary scenario.

Firstly, what part of being chronically unlucky in relationships are you forgetting?

Secondly, this isn’t exactly going to be a matchmaking, or even a random hook-up opportunity.

” Pinching my brow, I cast a look out at the quaint little high street I’ve parked in.

“Some snow-bound dude ranch in… let me just remind you… Mistwood Falls, middle of nowhere, Montana.”

“The photos look really cute online. Log cabins. Roaring fireplaces. Mountain-chic.” She’s doing that thing where she tries to make me feel better, but we both know it’s yet another year when I have to grit my teeth and smile through singledom.

She’s also trying to slap a bandage on the fact that I’ve wound up here alone.

“You won’t be able to turn around without tripping over a cowboy.

A cute little thing, with those phenomenal titties? They’ll be lining up to hit that.”

“The place looks like the only thing I’m going to risk being hit by is a passing tumbleweed, or rogue snowball.”

This is a picturesque village tucked away at high altitude, devoid of anything but loved-up couples in matching outfits, it appears.

All of whom will most likely be in town for a romantic Christmas, just to pile on the misery of my forever-single status.

“I can’t wait for the pitying side-eyes this year.

You didn’t warn me that this is some sort of honeymooners’ paradise. ”

“There might be a special keys in the bowl party for Christmas? A couple looking to add a little Mia-shaped package to their festive menu? Wear something that makes your tits look fantastic. That green dress is killer, one swish of your hips and you’ll have them crawling through the horse stalls panting after you. ”

I huff, blowing some loose strands of hair out of my eyes.

“Not funny. I’m uninterested in anything or anyone who has complications attached.

Can we focus on the more important details?

Like the fact I’m going to have to fly solo for the next few days, and I can’t even take my ass back home if I wanted to. ”

No, I’m stuck here. Even if I turned around right now, I can’t retreat home to hide away surrounded by my beloved stack of books. I’m effectively evicted for the next three days, all thanks to my landlord deciding Christmas was the optimal time to spend repairing the busted furnace.

“We’re supposed to be sipping hot chocolate, ice skating, and going on horse sleigh rides, all while confusing everyone about our status as a lesbian throuple. You promised to fold me into your marriage for Christmas, so I didn’t have to be the lonely orphan.” I pout.

That’s me. Forever on my own. Hit in the ass with a cursed cupid’s arrow.

Being me doesn’t seem to hold anyone’s interest, I fear.

Twenty-four and here I am, still languishing somewhere in the bounds of being stuck texting morons who only discover their phone exists after ten p.m. at night, or spending far too many hours pining after pretty girls on the internet, all of whom I’m too painfully shy to reach out to.

Or, as it transpires, in more recent times, to make the stupidest of stupidly stupid decisions.

A shudder rolls straight down my spine, which has nothing to do with the below-freezing temperatures outside my car. I have a type, and it’s called: finds everyone but me fascinating.

“Where are you now?” Keri’s words are accompanied by rustling and crunching as she chomps her forever love over and above anything in this world. I don’t need to see to know she’s snacking on corn chips and guac.

“Just arrived in Mistwood Falls. I’m gonna wander the town for a little bit.

” Glancing around, I like the vibe. It’s kinda cute and artsy here.

Everything screams handmade, bespoke, and like you could know the entire population of this place by first name after a single day.

There are even hanging metal signs outside each storefront, all matching perfectly—clearly custom-designed and fabricated for each business—so they all have a synchronous rustic feel going on.

Keri hums to herself, then begins reading out the itinerary provided by the ranch for guests who are booked to stay during the holidays.

“Let’s see… what have you got to look forward to this evening? Four p.m.… mulled wine and a Christmas photo booth in the homestead.”

Yup. I can already hear the questions and feel the stares if I walked into that solo.

“Five thirty… supper.”

I’d rather scoop my eyeballs out with a rusty spoon.

“Six p.m.… ax-throwing. Oooh, maybe you could practice your aim, while imagining your ex’s face?”

That sounds all too tempting.

“Nothing screams, Merry Christmas, you cheating, lying scumbag, like an ax embedded in the chest.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I say dryly.

“Don’t forget about the ‘Snowy sunrise breakfast buffet.’”

I grimace. “That sounds horrible. Table for one? No thanks.” This place might be tiny, but it must surely have at least one cafe option where I can consume my body weight in waffles, syrup, and half-decent coffee.