11. NaughtyNice
eleven
Naughty or Nice
U nbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. I slam my truck door shut when Helen raps on my window.
I roll it down and glare at my pint-sized, life-long friend who just crossed a line, volunteering me for this—in front of the whole frigging town. I was too stunned to protest.
Bet my chin’s bruised from hitting the fucking floor.
What was I supposed to do after I stood up and defended her in front of everyone? I had to. They ate her up in there. Blitzen never used to be this inhospitable. She was about to shatter with all the grumbling opposition she was getting from all sides. And I don’t blame her.
“You were the only choice.” Helen defends her actions before I can open my mouth.
“Do you realize how much time you just obligated me to? I’ve got a basketball team, Helen. I teach for Christ’s sake. Fuck. The food drive isn’t enough? Now this?”
“Come on, McShotty.” She reaches up and grips my forearm, which is resting on the window.
My heart’s thumping hard. “Why’d you do this? Last night you were trying to get me to go have drinks with her and now this?”
Helen cocks her head and raises a brow. She can do that—raise one brow. “Do you want a new fire truck or not?”
“You know I do.”
She sneers. “Well, then you have to sacrifice.”
“Why am I the only one who has to sacrifice? Why don’t you drive her all over kingdom come to help?”
“Because one, I don’t own a pickup truck big enough to haul Santa’s sleigh—and you do. And two, because you know everybody and everybody likes you better. I’m still the little half Korean chick the old timers refer to as that ‘part oriental girl.’ ”
“Bullshit. Apart from a misguided boomer when we were eleven, you were practically Blitzen’s homecoming queen.”
“Football Sweetheart.” Helen bats her eyes proudly, and I move to roll my window up.
“Fine. Come on Kourt, my family built a dynasty from practicing both sides of corporate law. The shoes in my closet combined cost as much as the fire truck we’re striving for.
It’s awkward, and then I have to explain to them all that I can’t contribute because my dad already gave me my charity share and I sunk it into that new children’s hospital wing.
Then they’ll want to ask why the going back and forth in and out of town and why I’m still here—”
“Why are you still here Helen?”
“Do you really want to have this conversation tonight?”
“I’d rather inject Herpes into my right eye.”
“Good. Then it’s settled.”
“And all this time I thought Chicago just wasn’t your kind of town.”
“Hey. You drive the five hour and fifty-nine-minute commute twice a week and tell me how you like it.”
“Please. As if you have to drive it.”
“And that’s another thing—I won’t be here to be at her beck and call every day or night of the week.
This wasn’t a Machiavellian plot to make a match between you and Erika.
I did it because you’re truly the best person to help her pull this off.
Now, will you please put a smile on your face? Those eleven lines are vicious.”
I growl.
She backs away from my window and breaks out into song. “He’s making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who’s naughty or nice.”
Christ.
I shove a hand through my hair. “Get in your car before you freeze.”
Her teeth are chattering, and I’m cold as fuck with my window down. The temperature plummeted since midday.
Speaking of which, what was with the bare legs? It’s freaking December in the Appalachians. The girl’s got a lot to learn about this town and culture. It’s all things wool and flannel in the winter.
Driving away, the visual of her sweater hiking so far up her thigh I could make out the side of her hip where it must round into her perfect ass, I realize—I don’t even have her phone number.
I call Helen on Bluetooth. “Text me Erika’s phone number, will you?”
“Okay. Hey.” She’s back to her normal Helen voice. “Thank you. I think together, you two can save Blitzen.”
I groan. “You sound like a B version one of those TV Christmas movies. The chances of us pulling this off at this late date are— shit. The odds are, we’ll go down in flames. You know that, right?”
I get nothing back.
“Right? Helen? You do realize, if Erika pulls this off, she’ll have done something unheard of. She landed here the first week of December and she’s going to save the town in one month? That’s not a Christmas miracle. It’s a fairytale.”
“Well…” Helen begins and stops.
“Well?” I finally prompt, sick of the pregnant silence.
There’s defiance in the voice that answers. “If anyone can do it, Erika can. I mean, she’s unicorns and stardust. A dreamer when we need one the most. She’s a believer, Kourt. So let her believe and support her, and the whole town will be better for it.”
“Let’s just start with her phone number.”
“How are we gonna do this?” I call Erika on my lunch break.
“You said you’d pick me up at four-thirty.” Her voice is energetic and chirpy, but she cuts it with a matter-of-fact edge.
I can’t help but smile a little knowing she’s making that effort just for me. “Are you good with that?”
“Sure. Hold on. No! Not there—there. Sorry. We’re getting organized.”
I hear a lot of background noise, drills and hammers. “Sounds like you already have a lot going on.”
“Oh, we do.”
“Where are you?”
“Town Hall, of course. We’re working on street decorations.”
“Do you know what you need me to do tonight?” Mentally, my fingers are crossed. Come on. Say, ‘Oh, I don’t need you tonight.’
“Well…”
Shit. Another Helen kind of pause.
“Well? What?”
She clears her throat. “Would you mind taking me to meet Mr. Miller?”
“Christmas tree Miller?”
“Yeah.”
I roll my eyes. “He might shoot us. I mean, it’s dark by five o’clock. You better tell him you’re coming, so he won’t unload a shotgun on my truck.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
I can feel the grimace on her face as she sputters. “I thought… may… maybe you’d do that. I mean, you knowing him and all…”
Of course, you want me to call the most stubborn man on the planet.
This is going to be the longest December on record.
“Okay. Four-thirty Josie’s house?”
“Oh, no. I’m sure I’ll still be here. We have so much to do.”
The courthouse square is the heart of this town, figuratively and physically. Town Hall sits directly across from the courthouse— and I’ll be damned if my jaw doesn’t sag a little, seeing multi-colored lights all over the courthouse square and the block that surrounds it.
It’s a beehive of activity. She’s already got lights covering the building and the bushes that line the front lawn.
In one day.
She’s taken charge of this. I have to give it to her: Her excitement is infectious. Everyone here seems as eager about this as Erika is.
Everyone but June. She looks like her hair’s about to catch on fire. That’s June for you. Grumpy as hell to hide her heart of gold.
Pulling up and parking, I’ve got my eyes on Erika. She’s talking with her hands to June and a circle of helpers. She’s almost childlike in her enthusiasm.
The thing is—she looks anything but childlike in that soft cotton candy pink sweater, as it hugs her shape just enough for me to know she’s got a mouthful plus some.
Shit. Fine. She’s sexy as hell, not that I gave her credit for it. Oddly enough, watching her with the group she kindly commands, I don’t think she gives herself credit for that either.
The evening sun casts a ray across the courthouse lawn and parking lot as it threatens to disappear behind the mountain.
The side of Erika’s face brightens from the warmth, and the texture of her sweater is illuminated where it clings to her chest. I catch myself staring at the anomaly next to the people I’ve known my whole life…
wondering if the most annoying woman on the planet—okay, to be fair, the current thorn in my side—knows she’s hot.
Helen’s right. She’s a unicorn. To her, this place is her own holiday wonderland full of possibilities.
Maybe because she’s a stranger in town. Maybe Blitzen is more special than we realize.
I mean, it’s all we know, but she’s seeing our town with fresh eyes.
Maybe we should appreciate what we have more.
Erika beams proudly, seeing me approach. “What do you think?” She spreads her arms and twirls in a slow circle.
She pulls another grin from me. “I think you scored three points.”
“Huh?”
“Sank it from the cheap seats.”
Blink, blink.
“Have you ever been to a basketball game?”
“Not really. I mean, in high school but I was nerdy. Not an athlete. So, well…” She draws her gaze up to meet mine sheepishly. “No.” She hangs her head apologetically. “I mean, on TV with Archer—”
“Archer?”
“My friend back home.”
I squint at her. “What kind of friend?”
Her mouth opens wide enough to swallow a baby hawk, and those blue eyes are roiling. “I beg your pardon?”
I show my hands defensively and snicker, “Just wondered if I was going to have some jealous boyfriend after me, hauling you all over Kentucky in my truck every night.”
“If you don’t want to do it, just man up and say it.”
Is she mad? Like, actually mad?
“If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t do it.”
Our gazes are latched like bull horns.
“You certainly act like you don’t want to do it.”
“By asking if you had a psycho stalker boyfriend? Seemed innocent enough to me. Did you ever watch Sleeping with the Enemy? You saw what happened to the nice neighbor.”
She snips, “What is with men and movie references? The Godfather , Scarface , Fight Club , Anchorman , The Dark Knight and now apparently, John Wick. I get it. It’s like you’re pre-requisite to masculine comradery—”
“You forgot No Country for Old Men .”
“May I remind you, I’m not the one bumping into fresh break-ups every time I turn around.”
Quinn. “Right.”
“It was obvious.” She turns her back to me and crosses to a group separating lights by a step ladder. “June?”
June glares up from the tangle of lights she’s messing with.
“Can you tell me how to get to Mr. Miller’s house? I need to see him.”
“Get in my truck before I pick you up and put you in it.” I nod and smile at June as Erika and I step aside. June enthusiastically waves us off.
“You’re being a dick.”
“You’re being a brat. Get in the fucking truck.”
“I will not.” She strides briskly away from me.
“I’ve got one step to your three.” I halt in front of her. “I called Miller—like you wanted me to do. He’s waiting. If you dilly dally too long, he’ll be in bed before we can get there.”
She glares.
“Are we doing this or not?”
Her gaze narrows.
“Great. Get in.”
“Do you think you can refrain from snide remarks about my friends or lack thereof?”
“Didn’t know you had a lack thereof. But I’m hungry. Can we go through the Dairy Maid on our way?” I nip her comeback in the bud. First because I am so hungry my stomach’s going to start growling, and second because I am being a dick.
What can I say? Her smart ass mouth paired with innocent eyes brings it out in me.
“I thought we were on a time crunch to get to Mr. Miller.”
“It’s a drive through.”
She peers up defiantly. And thus begins the whiplash. She and I apparently have a knack for going from all grins to disdain in zero to sixty. “Fine. I’ll buy since you’re spending your gas, and you wouldn’t let me pay the other day.”
Good luck with that.