Chapter 1
QUINN
N o! No, no, no! This seriously can’t be happening to me!
I’m so frustrated and mad right now I can barely stand it! I finally got my dream job that I worked so hard for, and even moved to the city early to get a head start on my new position. But then this happens, and I’m so upset.
Tilting my chin to the ceiling and blowing out a loud, agitated sigh, I close my eyes and try my best to hold the tears back. But unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about my current situation, and wallowing in a pity party certainly isn’t going to help me. I can pout if I want to, but I’m still stuck here.
And here is not the worst place to be, but it’s not where I want to be right now. I’m standing in a gorgeous apartment that’s been beautifully decorated by my fantastic new employer, and all I can think is: I wish I were somewhere else. And now I feel like an ungrateful brat, because people would kill for a fabulous apartment like this right in the middle of downtown.
Pulling back my newly hung curtains, I look out the window at the blanket of white covering the city. It’d be the perfect winter wonderland if it didn’t ruin my Christmas plans. But of course, mother nature just had to be that fickle bitch she’s known for being.
My cell phone rings on the coffee table, the noise annoying me in my angry state. I quickly snatch it up to find out who’s calling. Flipping it over, I see that it’s my mom, and my demeanor immediately softens. I’m so lucky to have such an amazing mom, who really is my best friend. I know she already knows what I’m about to say, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“Hi, Mama Bear,” I answer with a resigned tone.
“How’s my Baby Bear?” Her voice is tentative, telling me she’s already seen the news.
“I’d be doing a hell of a lot better if I were on the road right now, headed back home. But I can tell by your tone you’ve already seen the weather report, so you know I’m not coming.”
“Yes, your father saw it this morning. So, I guess that means you won’t be home for Christmas, then?” There’s a trace of hope in her voice, but she and I both know it would be impossible for me to make it home for the holiday with this much snow.
Damn you, Jack Frost! Okay, get it together, Quinn. Now, you’re cursing imaginary winter sprites. I shake my head at my foolishness.
“I’m so mad right now, Mom. You know how hard I’ve worked to get here, and I was so excited to start this new job. I moved down here early, so I could get a jump on things.
“Of course, that was with the stipulation that I could go home for Christmas and start my position right after the holidays. But who knew that over a foot of snow would be dumped on the city overnight, and I’d be stuck here?” I start pacing across the floor, trying to walk off some of my frustration.
“I’m sorry, honey. I know you were hoping to get home for Christmas, and your father and I will miss you terribly. We’ll wait to celebrate until you can come home.”
“Don’t be silly, Mom. There’s no need to wait for me to come home. I’m an adult, and I can celebrate the holiday by myself.” This is the first and only time I’ve ever been away from home for Christmas, but I don’t want my mom to hear how disappointed I am to not be with her and Dad. I know I may be an only child, but I’m 27 years old. I don’t have to spend the holiday with my parents, even though it breaks my heart not to.
“I know you’re an adult, but you’ll always be my Baby Bear. And this is our favorite holiday—I can’t make sugar cookies and peanut butter fudge without you. Who’s gonna drink peppermint hot chocolate with me while watching the lights twinkle on the tree on Christmas Eve? Or drive around with me to look at all the Christmas lights? There’s no way your father and I are going to celebrate without you. I wanna wait until you can be with us.”
I anticipate doing our holiday traditions all year. It’s the only time I can actually feel like a kid again, and I hate that I’m going to miss it. “You really don’t have to do that, Mom, but I appreciate it anyway.” I can hear the defeat in my own voice and try my best to sound a little more cheerful. “Are you at least going to cook our holiday dinner for you and Dad? I know he looks forward to all the food as much as I do every year.”
“I’m sure I’ll make something for your father and me, but I’ll save our traditional holiday meal for when you come home. But what about you? What are you going to eat? Do you even have groceries yet?” It’s just like my mom to always be in worry mode.
“No, not really. I only grabbed a few things because I didn’t plan to be here for very long, since I was going to head home for Christmas. So basically, I just have the bare minimum. There’s a bar and grille around the corner, so I’ll pick up some takeout for tonight. And then I’ll probably walk to the market down the street to buy a few things to get me through the rest of the week. Hopefully, by then, the snow will have cleared, and I can be home for New Year’s.”
“I just hate to think of my baby girl down there in that big city all by herself, spending the holiday all alone. It just breaks my heart!” I can hear my mother sniffle, and I know she’s beginning to cry. Which, of course, makes me tear up as I’m already so tenderhearted right now. But I put on a brave face, so I don’t upset my mother any more than she already is.
“I promise I’m gonna be just fine, Mom. I’m going to go ahead and get some dinner for tonight, and then I’ll call you tomorrow for Christmas Eve. Give Daddy a big hug and a kiss for me, and I’ll talk to you guys later. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, Baby Bear. Take care of yourself and know that I’m thinking about my precious girl. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I hang up the phone, feeling homesick and sad. I can be as mad as I want to be, but that still won’t change the fact that I’m not going home for Christmas. I mean, it wasn’t like my new employer forced me to move down here the week of the holiday. And it certainly isn’t their fault we suddenly got hit with shitty weather.
We’re used to getting snow in upstate New York, but no one was prepared for this much of it, this fast. And now, I’m stuck here in a new city where I don’t know anyone, spending the holiday all alone.
This Christmas sucks ass!
MASON
I’ve been coming to Cedar Street at least once or twice a week for the last couple of years. It’s a nice little neighborhood bar, and the food is actually pretty decent. Most of the time, I come here with some of the guys from work, but not tonight. No, it looks like I’ll be spending tonight alone, doing my best to avoid Avery’s advances while I try to eat my dinner in peace.
She’s usually a little flirty with whatever male patrons come in, but that’s not surprising considering she makes a living on tips. However, when it comes to me, she seems to always lay it on extra thick. I know she’s trying to get more than a tip out of me, but I’m really just not interested. I have… particular tastes, and not just any woman can satisfy them. Even if she’s a pretty girl like Avery.
I try to keep my head down while I eat my meal, pretending to be interested in something on my phone or whatever game is on the TV behind the bar. But that doesn’t seem to stop her from touching my hand or trying to shove her tits in my face any chance she gets. I do my best to be polite, but I like coming here way too much to shit where I eat.
The front door opens, and a burst of cold air blows in, reaching all the way to the bar where I’m sitting. I look to see who has arrived, but the light reflecting off the mounds of white snow outside practically blinds me. I can tell whoever has walked in is female by the shapely figure approaching me. I can’t see her face, but the way her curvy hips move in her skin-tight jeans has my mouth watering just to get a taste.
Her short, puffy black parka is pulled snugly around her, hiding the rest of her body from me. But I can already tell this girl has an hourglass figure, and I’m dying to get my hands on it after just one look. My reaction to this girl is very unusual for me, as there aren’t many women who catch my eye so quickly. So, before I can start drooling over her luscious body, I turn my attention back to my meal.
She sits one barstool away from me and unzips her coat, pulling it off and laying it on the empty seat between us. From my peripheral, I see her spear her hands into her long, curly black hair as she rests her elbows on the bar and sighs in frustration. I watch Avery give her a once-over and smirk to myself when I see a glimmer of envy flash in her eyes. I haven’t seen our newcomer’s face yet, but I can tell from Avery‘s reaction she must be beautiful.
“What can I get you?” There’s a hint of snark in Avery‘s question.
“Can I just have a bourbon for right now? Neat, please. Oh, and a menu.” She has the most angelic voice I think I’ve ever heard, but there’s also a familiarity to it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I’ve heard that voice before.
“Sure thing. I assume you’d like something to go?” I hold in my chuckle as I see right through Avery‘s ploy. It’s obvious she wants this girl to leave and views her as crowding in on her territory. But I don’t know how many ways I can say it nicely—I'm just not interested in Avery.
“Actually, I’ve decided to have my meal here. This seems like a nice place, so I think I’ll stay awhile.” The girl’s voice is saccharine sweet, but there’s no mistaking the “I’m not putting up with your bullshit” vibe she’s giving off. And I must say, I find that quite the turn-on.
Avery pours her drink and sets it down in front of her along with a glass of water. I still can’t see her face because her thick, glossy hair hides it from me. But I watch as she pushes the water aside and downs her bourbon in one shot. It’s not often you see a woman walk into a bar and do that, so honestly, I’m a little impressed. I’ve only known one girl who drinks bourbon like that, and I haven’t seen her in years, sometime after high school, maybe.
She sets her empty glass down on the mahogany bar and taps the rim, signaling for Avery to bring her another. She looks over her menu for a few moments before turning her head to look in my direction. Now that I can finally see her face, I’m absolutely stunned.
Her perfectly smooth, caramel-colored skin graces a gorgeous face with full, pouty lips coated in shiny clear gloss. She’s not wearing a stitch of makeup, but it’s the most beautiful gray-blue eyes with thick black lashes staring back at me that have me wholly enraptured—because I haven’t seen them in almost ten years.