Page 9 of Five Days of Christmas Spice

My eyes start to feel heavy, and I sniffle a yawn.

“We’ll talk more about it at dinner. Do you want a blanket? We’re about forty-five minutes away if you want to nap?”

I shake my head. “I won’t nap, but I have an email I have to return,” I dig my phone out of my bag.

“Of course. I won’t interrupt you,” Noel says. He takes an iPad from his briefcase and throws on a pair of headphones.

I smile in thanks. I need the escape that work brings me because in this enclosed space, with this man making my belly flutter and pulse race? It’s a distraction I don’t want. It’s making me feel things I haven’t in a long time, way before Phil.

It scares me what this attractive man offers beside me because I don’t know if I can be vulnerable again with someone.

My mind wanders, I can’t focus on my inbox and I sneak a glance at Noel. Casual sex and maybe some kinky play with no strings attached might be precisely what I need.

4 HOLLY

The Range Rover turns down the familiar road that’s etched in my memory, and now I’m swimming in a pool of sentimentality.

Whenever we visited Gran Deb, I knew that my mom would be okay for that weekend. For that space of time, when I crossed my Gran’s threshold, I knew there wasn’t going to be yelling or threats uttered by my father. My mom would smile, the dark circles etched under her eyes would lessen, and I’d have her undivided attention. My Gran’s house was a place of solace and warmth; when Aunt Rachel visited with my cousin Stella, it was the highlight of my year.

Growing-up, I didn’t register the property next door. Like all the houses on this stretch of road, I presumed it was a farm. The treeline hid it from view from my Gran’s, but when I rode the back trails on my favourite mare, I could see the neighbouring property and sensed that it was vast and larger than Gran’s gently sloped land.

The vehicle bumped down the long driveway lined with evergreens, their boughs heavy with fresh snow.

I check my watch, set to local time. It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, but I yawn, that sleep-drunkenness from travel settling over me.

“My favourite part of Vixen’s Paradise is arriving at it,” Noel says.

As I glance out the window, a part of me wishes I didn’t agree with him. But the large house is lit with soft lighting, a Christmas tree in the large window visible from the drive. The house sits on land that stretches forever. With a sleigh parked on the lawn, the place looks like a Christmas card.

“It’s beautiful,” I can’t help but say it.

“I hope you are surprised and delighted by your stay, Holly,” Noel says.

“I’m curious to see the inside.”

“Let’s go.”

Noel opens my door before I can, waving off his driver.

A man wearing a black coat trimmed in red piping waves at us while pushing a luggage cart.

“Mr. Brennon, I will bring your bags to your room.”

“Thanks, Shawn. Holly is a guest and has a room of her own booked,” Noel sets my bag on the cart next to Noel’s carry-on and laptop bag.

“Your bags will be waiting for you, Holly.”

“Thanks,” I say.

Shawn waves while whistling, and Noel offers me his arm.

The snow crunches underfoot, and the airport price I paid for these boots was worth it.

“Welcome to Vixen’s Paradise, Holly,” Noel opens the door.

I step through, and immediately, the vibe of the place hits me.

Twinkling lights and gorgeous glass decorations hang from garlands above the doorways and walls.

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