Their Little Snow Angel (Happy Holidaddies #1)

Chapter 1

Violet

When one is packing for what will hopefully be a sex-filled mountain holiday cabin adventure, one must pack more than a few things.

Or rather…one must pack all the things.

And that is exactly what I’m doing.

This will be Callum’s and my first week-long getaway. I’ve consulted every women’s magazine I can get my hands on, as well as quite a few books and websites, and I have it covered. I think. Every toy, every costume, every flavor of lube, condom, all of it.

“Did you leave any room for food?” my roommate, Mikayla, asks.

“Um, no, I figured we’d stop on the way.”

“And where in your tiny car are you going to fit groceries around approximately seven suitcases full o’ kink?”

“Shh, now isn’t the time to be practical.”

“Whoa. Hold on.” She presses her palm to my forehead. “Are you feeling all right?”

I stare at her. “Yeah…why?”

“Because the words ‘now isn’t the time to be practical’ would only come from your mouth if you’re delirious. Or if your brain has been hacked by aliens.”

I wave off her hand. “Aliens haven’t been proven to—”

“Exist, I know.” She hugs me. “And brains can’t be hacked. I love you so damn much, Violet.”

“Aww, I love you, too.” I know my brain doesn’t always work the same way as hers.

I take things too literally, and I don’t always read social signals very well.

But she’s never made me feel weird or “off” like other people have.

She’s also taught me how to joke around more, and see less literal meanings sometimes. I freaking love Mikayla.

“Listen.” She takes my hands in hers. “I think this week is going to be awesome for you and Callum. But if it isn’t, like if the cabin roof has fallen in or the electricity is out, whatever—you can call me at any point.”

“Um, no, because you and your boyfriend are having your own stay-cation.”

“I won’t care about that. If you’re in trouble, I’m here for you.”

“I could call my parents.” I frown, because actually, I can’t call my dad and stepmom. They’re in Florida at some fancy golf tournament. “Okay, I’ll call you if there’s trouble. Thanks, Mikayla.”

“You are very welcome. Now…hold on a minute.” She eyes my buttoned-up coat and the peek of fishnet stockings beneath the hem. “Are you wearing what I think you’re wearing under that coat? I.e. nothing?”

“I’m wearing something under it.” I feel my face get hotter than the surface of the sun, if such a thing were possible. It isn’t possible, because not only would this entire room spontaneously combust, but the planet along with it.

“I don’t want to know, do I?” Mikayla laughs.

“Nope.” I spent a long time with an article titled “Sixteen Ways to Surprise Your Lover.” The first point was the classic naked-under-a-trench-coat surprise.

Variations included lingerie and fetish wear worn beneath the coat.

I found a leather bustier and matching mini-skirt, and I’m wearing them with fishnet stockings.

“Callum doesn’t deserve you.” Mikayla’s smile doesn’t look the same as usual. I want to ask her about it, but she’s picking up one of my many, heavy suitcases and heading for the door.

We take a moment to admire our Christmas tree—the cheapest one we could find in the lot, with a giant bare spot in the middle that we filled with extra garland.

It’ll be our first Christmas apart since we moved in together for college. My parents are always off on some holiday, and her parents suck. So we’ve always just done our own thing.

But this year, we’re doing things with our boyfriends. It was a mutual decision, but I’m not feeling great about leaving her for an entire week.

She gives me big hugs and makes me promise to call her if I need anything—anything at all.

But I won’t need anything, because I’ll have Callum.

Twenty minutes later, I pull up to his house, a duplex he rents in the Old Thirty-Three district with two other guys. I knock on the door and he ushers me inside, polite as always. His sandy-blond hair is slicked back like usual, and he’s wearing a loose Henley and jeans.

“You look nice.” I shift back and forth, feeling shy for some reason. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yep, all ready.” He takes in my coat. “What are you wearing the coat for? It’s not that cold.”

“Are your roommates home?”

“No.” He frowns. “Why?”

I unbutton the coat, revealing my carefully chosen outfit. “Because I have a surprise!”

I’m not sure what I expected. I thought maybe he would grab me, push me up against the door, and kiss me senseless.

Although now that I think about it, “senseless” is impossible.

Because we always have our senses and kissing wouldn’t make those senses go away.

I would be tasting him and smelling him.

His frown deepens, and he doesn’t kiss me or touch me at all. Instead, he stares. “What the hell are you wearing, Violet?”

“Um.” I look down at myself. “A leather bustier, a mini-skirt, and—”

“No, for fuck’s sake. Why are you wearing it?”

“To be sexy?” I’ve done something wrong, and I don’t like this feeling, not one bit.

“Yeah—no.” He shakes his head. “What is wrong with you, Violet? I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what, specifically?”

He rolls his eyes. “Can’t do—this.” He moves his hands in my direction. “This isn’t what I signed on for. I want a proper girlfriend, not some…whatever the fuck that is.”

“Oh. I can be a proper girlfriend, then.” Although it feels as if my heart shrinks when I say it. I want sex. I want fun, kinky sex. I want to feel hot and lose myself in all the feelings it can bring.

Perhaps it’s lucky, then, that Callum keeps shaking his head. “It’s over, Violet. I’m not going on the trip. I’m not going out with you.”

My brain rushes through different interpretations. He can’t mean what I think he means. “You’re not going out with me, like, we’re staying in forever, or—”

“I’m breaking up with you. You are not my girlfriend. I’m not your boyfriend. Fucking hell, how much clearer do I have to spell it out?”

“I understand now. That was very clear.” I don’t cry, although I want to. I thought that Callum would like all the effort I’ve gone to. I know I like all the effort I’ve gone to. I felt like something was missing in our sex life.

All he does is give me the same disgusted look as I button up my coat and let myself out of his house.

I am, objectively, smart. I graduated top of my class in both high school and college.

Even though I’m only a year out of college, I am one of the best accountants at my firm, consistently given bonuses each quarter for overshooting expectations.

I can memorize letters, numbers, and all sorts of codes without even trying.

And I have never felt stupider than I feel now.

I get in my car and start back toward home. At a stoplight, I remember—Mikayla has her own sexy plans for the week, with her boyfriend. If I go home, she won’t be able to do the things she’s been looking forward to.

A quick U-turn and I’m getting on the highway that will bring me to the mountains.

I’ll take my week-long sexy Christmas retreat. Only I’ll be taking it alone.