Chapter 15 Pretty Pink Prickle Pickle Cactus
PRETTY PINK PRICKLE PICKLE CACTUS
DECLAN
Claire and I were standing in the town square, freezing our fucking assess off as Paul and some other executives made their way down from the main lodge.
I would much rather be inside literally anywhere than standing here, but Claire didn’t give me another option.
Tonight was the Santa Scramble—a scavenger hunt that sent us on a wild goose chase around the resort.
The prize was different every year, but last year it was a five day trip to Mykonos, so it was highly sought after.
Claire didn’t care about that, though. All she cared about was beating Sarah and Tom.
Paul walked to the center of the square as his assistant started passing papers out to the teams.
“Welcome, everyone, to this year’s Santa Scramble!
As you all know, this is one of my favorite events of the season.
It is delicately crafted to be challenging and show you all this resort has to offer.
There are ten items on the list, each of which require a photo.
The first team to make it back with all ten photos, wins.
Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor. ”
His reference to The Hunger Games was mildly creepy but I didn’t have time to think about it as Claire grabbed my wrist as hard as she could and pulled me off to the side.
“Okay, the list is long but if we do this strategically then we got this.”
I took the list from her hands.
#1 Something Red
#2 Something Sharp
#3 Something Sweet
#4 Something Bitter
#5 A Wall of All Blue Lights
#6 An Ugly Sweater
#7 A Reindeer
#8 A Real Snowman
#9 A Christmas Cliché
#10 Something Beautiful
“Some of these are so ambiguous that they’re easy,” I agreed.
The determined look on Claire’s face had me actually debating how we could win this thing. I didn’t know what the prize was, but it was going to be Claire’s.
The crowd scattered in different directions as we took off toward the main lodge. Claire spotted an oversized red bow hanging in a storefront. She stood in front of it while I snapped her photo, then we crossed it off of the list.
For something sharp, Claire posed in front of a fence spike—pretending to be impaled by it.
For something sweet she bought a chocolate peanut butter cupcake at the local bakery—which we split as we continued the list. For something golden, she took a picture in front of the bell in the middle of town square.
We were making our way down the list at rapid speed—we had this in the bag.
“We need an ugly sweater,” Claire said, tapping her chin. “Do you have one?”
I arched a brow at her. “Do I look like a man who has an ugly Christmas sweater?”
She snorted. “Good point.”
We started walking toward the lodge, thinking we could check the gift shop, when a random stranger started walking in our direction. Claire stopped in her tracks and swung an arm across my chest with an audible gasp.
“Look,” she whispered, nodding her chin toward the person who was just minding their own business.
My gaze traveled over their face down to their—holy shit.
I wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but the woman was wearing a pink Christmas sweater. It had green pickles all over it that were wrapped in lights and wearing Santa hats. It was simply foul and someone was wearing it unironically.
“Is it me, or are those pickles a little… phallic?”
I barked out a laugh, she had a point. The shape of the pickles was peculiar and on a quick glance they looked more like Shrek’s genitals rather than a pregnant woman’s snack.
“Maybe it’s a cactus? Are we sure it’s pickles?” I asked, genuinely contemplating what was on this woman's shirt––I know, I was surprised, too.
“Excuse me! Ms!” Claire raised her hand and jumped on her toes, flagging down the stranger in the awful sweater.
She took off, running up to them with an animated expression. Before I knew it, she was handing me her phone and motioning for me to take their picture. I thought Claire would just stand and smile, but instead she dropped to one knee and raised a flat palm, as if presenting the sweater.
I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of me. Claire described herself as boring, but the more I got to know her, the more I couldn’t understand how that thought even crossed her mind.
Claire stood and hugged the woman before thanking her. She smiled at us warmly without saying anything and kept walking. Claire turned to me with a beaming smile before saying, “I don’t think that woman spoke English.”
“So you just took a picture with her and she had no idea what was going on?” I asked.
“Yup,” she giggled as she looped her arm in mine and started heading toward the town square.
On the way there, we stopped to take a picture with a light up Rudolph decoration, snagged a shot of a snowman another group was building, and captured a group of carolers who were going around to the chalets—a Christmas cliché.
We’d quickly ticked off everything except for two tasks. Claire and I headed around the town, through the main lodge, and back to our chalet before looping it again, looking for a wall of blue lights.
“I am convinced this doesn’t exist,” Claire said, throwing her arms out to the side. She was getting visibly frustrated, as was I.
We hadn’t gotten word that anyone had completed the list, but the longer we aimlessly wandered around, the less likely we were to win.
A wall of blue lights? That was so oddly specific. But also, where have I seen that before?
I thought back to the last week. The things Claire and I did, the places we went. I just felt like I’d seen a wall of cascading blue Christmas lights somewhere but I could’t put my finger on it.
We were heading back toward the lodge when it hit me.
Our kiss.
The ski lodge.
I pulled up the photo of us from dinner the other night and right there in the background, next to the railing we were in front of, was a cascading wall of blue Christmas lights at the very edge of the ski lodge.
I grabbed Claire’s hand and took off running toward the cable car station. She was gasping for breaths as she trailed behind me.
“Where are we going?” She wheezed. “I don’t run, and the altitude here is killer.”
“I know where the blue wall is,” I said, glancing behind me.
“Shut up!” She yelled just as we approached the empty station. I wasn’t sure if anyone else figured this out, but if they had then they were already up there because the station was like a ghost town.
I stepped onto the car, ushering Claire in front of me. The attendant waved as the doors closed and the car shifted to begin moving up the mountain.
“Why are we going to the ski lodge?” Claire asked with an adorable crease between her brows.
I pulled up the picture and tilted the phone toward her. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes met mine.
“I knew I’d seen it, but I couldn’t remember where. Then, it hit me.”
Claire jumped into me, throwing her arms around my neck. I caught her around the waist and squeezed her tight to me, her feet dangling.
“This is so exciting,” she shrieked as I placed her back on her feet.
She was buzzing by the time we got to the upper station, which only had my chest puffing with pride. I put that smile on her face.
When the cable car doors opened, Claire took off in a mad dash toward the ski lodge. It was dramatic to say—and I’d deny it—but I could’ve shed a tear as the wall of lights came into view.
Claire bounced on her toes as she whipped around to face me.
“How do I look?”
She popped out a hip and threw a peace sign in the air, sticking her tongue out. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and took her picture before she could stop me.
“You look perfect,” I said, walking over to her.
“Now we just have one more thing on the list. Easy,” she said with confidence.
“One thing first,” I said. I wasn’t sure where I mustered the confidence, but I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me.
Claire’s icy blues trailed to my mouth as her tongue poked out and licked her bottom lip. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
I leaned in so my lips were just barely brushing hers. “I thought we should recreate our picture.”
“I like that idea,” she whispered just as her lips crashed into mine.
I held the phone up, snapping a few shots before shoving it into my pocket and running my fingers through her honey blonde hair. Claire groaned into the kiss as my tongue tangled with hers. I nipped at her bottom lip before pulling back, all too aware that we were out in the open.
Claire took a step back and placed her hands on her hips.
“Yup, yeah, cool. You’re a good kisser. And now I know that my boss is a good kisser. Not awkward at all. This is totally fine.”
She spun and started heading back toward the cable car, mumbling under her breath about God knows what. I rubbed my lips together to hide my laugh, her rambling was new for me and I liked it a little too much.
I caught up with her just as we reached the station. When the doors were closed, she faced me. She looked somewhere between extremely turned on and a wild animal ready to flee.
I guess it was my duty to find out which one was true.