Chapter 1 #2
“I always knew that you’d end up opening your own practice.
When we were kids, you always took such care cleaning my scrapes and putting band aids on me when I’d fall while riding my bike or scratch myself up, trying to climb into the tree house following you and Owen.
” I laugh, shaking my head at the memory.
Parker Grant spent a lot of time in our house growing up, so most of my memories as a kid include him.
My eyes drift back over his profile as he stares out into the darkness. His nose is slightly crooked from a fight when he was teenager, but if anything, it only makes him even more handsome. A dark brush of stubble is scattered along his jaw, and slightly down his neck. Rugged, yet refined.
Suddenly, he looks over, and I realize I’ve been caught admiring him.
I’m blaming it on the champagne and not the long-buried crush that’s suddenly resurfacing.
“Christmas is magical, Quinn. I know you’re a hotshot marketing executive now for a big Fortune 500, but maybe coming home is exactly what you needed, since you’ve seem to have forgotten that.”
Scoffing, I reach for the champagne flute and carefully bring it to my lips for a sip, the bubbles sliding down my throat with ease.
“This champagne is magic, Parker. But Christmas? Not so much. I don’t know how I’m going to endure the next seven days being stuck at home.
Mom is convinced that all we need is quality time together, and that she and Dad are capable of being in the same room without anything being thrown, but I’m calling bullshit.
Christmas isn’t magic; it’s an excuse for people to get presents.
Nothing more, nothing less. At least Owen has Cary to act as a buffer. ”
My brother and his fiancé, Cary, are high school sweethearts, and it’s part of the reason he stayed behind in Strawberry Hollow. Now, he has a reason to be absent. Not me. I’m going to be stuck at my parents' beck and call.
“Eh, a week is nothing.” His shoulder dips in a shrug. “Maybe you’ll find out just how much you miss home now that you’re back.”
That, I sincerely doubt.
A strong gust of wind disrupts our quiet, seeping through my jacket and causing me to shiver violently. If I stay out here any longer, I’m going to freeze to death.
Clearly, Parker was right to ask why I was standing out in the cold in this dress and my fashionable, but hardly functional coat. As beautiful as it is, it is not meant for a snowstorm.
I quickly drink the remainder of the champagne in one swallow then set it down on the table. “Thanks for the company. I guess I better head back inside before Mom realizes I’m missing and sends out a search party.”
“It was good catching up, Quinny,” Parker says, a wistful look in his eyes.
“Yeah, it was,” I say softly, our gazes locked. For a moment, neither of us say anything. A moment that suddenly feels intense and overwhelming, and honestly, a little confusing.
These old feelings resurfacing have taken me by surprise. I didn’t expect to see him and feel anything but nostalgia.
Somehow, I tear my eyes away, then turn on my heels and walk back through the French doors toward the party. I feel his gaze on me until I slip back inside. The welcomed toasty air greets me, and I sigh, letting it thaw me.
I glance around the room until I spot Owen and Cary cuddled up in the corner, probably whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. They’re so in love, it’s sick.
As happy as I am for my brother, I’m also a tad bit…envious?
My love life consists of sporadic Tinder hookups, and that one guy from my building that keeps texting me “you up?” in the middle of the night.
Definitely no fairy-tale romance. Not that I’m looking for Prince Charming.
My job is my life.
My entire world revolves around One Click Marketing.
Trying to make a name for yourself and working your way up the corporate ladder in a male-controlled industry is not easy.
It just so happens that my boss is a grade-A misogynistic asshole, who gets off on making women feel inferior.
If I hadn’t spent the last almost five years of my life building my credibility, I would quit in a heartbeat.
But, I’m not giving him the satisfaction of driving yet another woman out.
“Quinn?”
Mom’s voice breaks through my thoughts. She’s standing in front of me with a glass of creamy liquid, and my mood immediately perks up.
Grandma Scott’s famous eggnog.
The one and only good thing about Christmas.
“Sorry, I was thinking about work.” I plaster on a wide smile, taking the glass from her extended hand. Just what I need to finish out the night.
Hopefully, unscathed, aside from a few fat jabs from Aunt Polly.
Mom’s face softens, her eyes wrinkling slightly at the corners.
“Quinn, you work too much. See, this is exactly why I wanted you home for Christmas with us. I want all of us together in the same place, enjoying the holiday and not worrying about work or anything else. I just miss you, honey. It’s been four years since you’ve been home.
” Sadness drips from her tone, matching the expression in her eyes.
I hate when we have these conversations because I feel so immensely guilty. Even though the tension between her and Dad is part of the reason I stopped visiting for the holidays, it still hurts that things between us have gotten so distant. That my need for space continues hurt her.
“I know, Mom. That’s why I’m here. All yours for a whole week. I’m even participating in this Christmas musical, even though I would rather throw myself off the Empire State Building..”
The thought of this damn musical has the champagne ready to come back up.
She perks up, pulling me to her and smashing me against her chest. “I promise, my darling, it’s going to be the best vacation ever. Even the musical! I’ll make sure of it. Oh, by the way.” Pulling back, she smirks and glances to the side.
“See that guy over there? Tall. Blond hair and chiseled jaw?”
I groan, unable to stop it from escaping my lips. “Did you seriously just say chiseled jaw? Have you been reading those smutty romance books again?”
“Quinn, hush.” The peaks of her cheeks redden with a flush, and I smirk. “It’s true, just look at him. He’s the definition of chiseled. That’s my new neighbor Amelia’s grandson, Brent. Isn’t he handsome?”
“Oh, no. No, no, no, absolutely not. Mom, you are not setting me up with anyone, ever. Especially not your neighbor’s grandson!”
Mom rolls her eyes. “Well, you should at least think about it. You could invite him to dinner tomorrow. Owen invited Parker, and your dad will be coming with his new wife.”
Surprisingly, I don’t hear the usual thinly-veiled disgust in her mention of my father.
But that means that I don’t even get a few days of preparation before we’re all thrown together and expected to play nice.
My dad’s wife is only ten years older than me, and needless to say, I think she probably has more in common with me than with him.
Not that I really know anything about her.
I only met her once, the night of their wedding.
Following my mom’s line of sight, I see the man she’s talking about standing across the room with Amelia on his arm. She’s not wrong…he is handsome, but regardless, I’m not interested.
I’m here for a week, and my life is not some cliché Hallmark movie, where the corporate girl falls for the sweet, small-town guy when she comes home for Christmas to save the family business or some other contrived festive nonsense.
Nope. Absolutely not happening.
The sooner the holidays can be over and I’m on a plane back to New York, the better.
“I’m just saying, Quinn. You spend too much time working. How will you ever settle down and have a family, if you’re always working?” Mom reaches out to affectionately swipe her thumb along my cheek.
“Something tells me that I’ll figure it out, Mom. If that’s even what I decide I want. But I don’t want you or Amelia matchmaking for me, okay? Please.”
Finally, she sighs, nodding. “Fine. But dinner is still on. Sorry, sweets.”
“Fantastic.”
I take a hefty swig of the eggnog and play the part of dutiful daughter, making my way around the room and saying hello to our guests.
Before I know it, the crowd has started to disperse, and not a moment too soon since my feet are aching from my new, unbroken-in Louboutins.
I walk out of the dining room and into the kitchen, using the doorway to lean on as I pop the heel from my foot.
“Ugh,” I moan the moment I can wiggle my freshly-painted toes freely, even though they ache with the movement.
Thank God the party is pretty much over. I’m all ‘people’d’ out for the night. Actually, for the rest of the year. I’ll try again next year.
“I think you lost five inches from those heels.”
When I look up, I see Parker has snuck up on me yet again, his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, a wry grin on his lips.
“Yeah, well, I was about to lose a toe if I kept those things on any longer,” I mutter, sliding the other heel off. “I should’ve known not to wear heels that haven’t been broken in, but I couldn’t resist. Did you enjoy the party?”
Parker nods and reaches up, loosening the bright red tie around his neck so that it hangs open. “I did. I love a good party, especially when it’s Christmas…”
Only then do I notice the Santa hat shaped cufflinks on his shirt, and I shake my head. “I swear, you are the most Christmas cheer person I’ve ever met. I don’t know how you do it. Thinking about the next week is enough to make my stomach hurt, let alone be excited.”
“That’s because you’re obviously the female equivalent of Scrooge, Quinny.”
My eyes roll at his teasing, but then I notice what’s above us.
Parker notices I’m staring up and his eyes drift to the green leafy plant with red berries directly over our heads.
Wonderful. Could this be any more cliché? In fact, it might possibly be THE Hallmark Christmas movie cliché. Just my luck.
“Mistletoe.” He grins, stepping closer to me. “You know what this means?”
My heart begins to pound wildly. Surely, he doesn’t mean…
He takes another step closer, and I swallow. My fingers tighten their grip around the heel of my shoe while the corners of Parker’s lips rise into a full-blown smile that suddenly has my knees feeling weak.
“Sorry, Little Scott, but being the only person around here with real Christmas spirit, you know how important it is to me to follow the holiday traditions. And the mistletoe?” He points above us. “It’s one of the most important ones.”
I can’t kiss Parker. He’s…he’s Owen’s best friend. Not to mention, extremely dangerous for my heart. I can’t chance resurrecting those old childhood crush feelings.
“I-”
Before I can even respond, he pulls me to him, sealing his lips over mine and silencing my protest.
Parker Grant is kissing me.
Parker Grant is kissing me!
It takes a second for my brain to catch up to what is actually happening. I think back to all the times that I dreamed of this very moment as a teenager, fantasized about him walking into my room, pulling me into his arms and kissing me until I was breathless.
His lips are firm and demanding, yet soft in a way that is completely unexpected. His hands slide into my hair, pulling me closer against him as his tongue teases the seam of my lips.
Lost in the moment, my heels clatter to the floor, breaking the spell between us.
Parker tears his mouth away and takes a step back.
Stunned, I reach up to touch my swollen and thoroughly kissed lips. I can’t believe that just happened.
“You know what, Quinn?” Parker says, closing the space he just put between us. “I bet you, right here, right now, that if you give me these seven days you’re home, I can make you fall in love with Christmas all over again.”
His words take me back to when we were kids, when everything between us was an adventure, full of fun and games that we loved to play and never got old.
“Really Parker?” I say incredulously.
His shoulder rises in a shrug. “I know you, Quinn Scott, and I know that somewhere in there is the girl that used to wake up with me in the middle of the night, just to see if we could catch Santa. I know that your old Christmas spirit is there, and if you give me a week, just the seven days that you’re home, I can make you love those things all over again.
Love being home again. And if I can’t, then I’ll take your spot in the Christmas musical your mom has told the entire town you're performing in.”
What? Christ on a cracker.
“Hmm. What’s the catch?”
Parker shakes his head. “There isn’t one. You can hand over the elf costume. Tights and all. That is…if I lose.”
Now this…is a bet that I’m willing to take. God, not having to dress up in that stupid costume and prance around a stage? I’d do anything.
Well, practically anything. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and this is, for sure, a desperate measure.
Or… is it? Maybe I’m only saying yes because I want to climb Parker like a tree and deal with the consequences later, but either way…
“Deal. Because I know there is absolutely no way that I will ever love this stupid holiday again or love being home….so, you’re on.
Anything not to put on that stupid costume and be in that horrible play.
I’m pretty sure Derick Michaels has worn it four years in a row, and I doubt it’s been washed since. ”
Now this will be entertaining, because there’s no possible way I can lose. The odds are fully-stacked against Parker, and I can’t wait to revel in my win when I see him on that stage.
“What about you? What if you win, what do you get?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
“If I win, then you’re putting on the costume, and that’s enough for me, Little Scott.”
He grins and adds, “And no cheating. Anything’s fair game and you have to give it a real shot. I know when you’re bullshitting, so no funny business.”
“Deal.”
“A week from now, we’ll meet under the mistletoe at your dad’s annual Christmas party, and then we’ll see.”
There’s absolutely no way that Parker Grant and his ridiculous Christmas cheer will be rubbing off or on me. Ever. Which means that I can kiss the ridiculous elf costume and that stupid play goodbye.
Thank God.
“Game on, Dr. Grant.”