Page 2 of The Naughty List

Putting myself out there with everything else going on in my life seems pointless. I don’t have time for dating. I didn’t before I was awarded custody of Sawyer… and I especially don’t now that I do. He’s my number one priority.

“One hour,” Eloise continues. “‘Tis the season of giving, right? Give yourself one hour. If it sucks, you’ll have only lost one hour of your time. Or maybe, you just might meet Mr. Right.”

The irony of my younger sister, who has never had a serious boyfriend in her life, pressuring me to take part in speed dating is not lost on me. Regardless of whether or not I participate, I need coffee.

“Okay,” I concede. “But I only have a half hour. I have to go back to the farm for a bit before I head home.”

Eloise’s shriek of excitement has me pulling the phone away from my ear.

“Yas, bitch!” she exclaims.

“Alright,” I sigh, just as I reach the door of the coffee shop. “If I’m gonna do this, I gotta go.”

“Okay, love you, bye!” Eloise says before I tell her that I love her too and we end the call.

A little bell chimes as I pull open the front door of Ivy House. A swirl of bold espresso and sweet vanilla and pine greet me before the petite blonde standing behind the counter does. I don’t allow myself many things, but iced coffee is something I am always willing to splurge on.

“Hi, welcome to Ivy House!” the woman says as I approach the counter. “Do you need a minute or can I help you choose something?”

The first special listed is a golden eggnog iced latte, and I don’t need to see what’s listed on the rest of the chalkboard. Eggnog gets so much hate during the holidays, but I love it so much. Almost as much as a good coffee. Combine the two together? Sign me the hell up.

My stomach grumbles as I glance down into the glass pastry counter. In the midst of the first day of school craziness, making sure Sawyer had everything he needed, I didn’t take the time to eat anything myself. I was so hyper focused on making a good impression, both at the school and in the meeting with the farm owners, that I guess I forgot to eat anything today.

I’ll have to stop and grab a burger or something at a drive through on the way home, but for now, gingerbread men cookies will have to do.

“Hi. I actually know what I want to order.” I swallow.Here goes nothing.“But also, I was wondering if you could tell me about tonight’s speed dating?”

TWO

ELLIOTT

There isnothing I love more than late fall, early winter in New England. Most people hate the cold and the snow, but I live for this shit. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year. Disney World claims they’re the most magical place on earth - and no disrespect to Mickey and the gang, I love Magic Kingdom as much as the next guy - but there is nowhere more magical than Merry & Bright Farm during the holiday season.

It took me moving three and a half hours away to realize it, but now that I have, there’s nothing I want more than to be home. Permanently. I just don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to tell my parents they basically flushed four years of college tuition down the drain with me. There isn’t much need for a software engineer on a Christmas tree farm, so it’s not even like I could put my education and skills to use here.

I spent my entire teenage years wanting nothing more than getting the hell out of Blue Spruce Hills. So much of my identity here in town was tied up with being Elliott Winters, son of Merilyn and Brighton Winters and the younger brother of Bennett. Our family is, what one might call “small town famous,” thanks to the award-winning Christmas tree and caribou farm my parents have owned since the 1980s. For so long, I felt like the only way I could step out of the shadow and be my own person, I had to leave the farm. Turns out, the grass isn’t greener on the other side though. The homesickness I feel is enough to make me physically ill some days.

Thankfully, my team lead, who is on maternity leave for eight more weeks, gave us the opportunity to work remotely until after the new year. I guess I have until then to figure out what I’m doing with my life. Knowing full well that there’s a high chance I won’t be returning to the city, I decided to use up some of my personal time.

For the next week, I’m not going to enjoy getting home cooked meals and soaking up the small town madness I never thought I’d miss. Like, holiday themed speed dating for example. I’m sure if I looked hard enough I could find something like this in Boston, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as seeing who shows up to Ivy House tonight. Our town, and the few surrounding us, are a tight knit community. People are going to talk.

Which is exactly why I decided to wear a crisp new pair of jeans with a cream cable-knit sweater tonight. If I’m going to be the topic of anyone’s conversation, I want them to at least be able to say I look good.

Wholesome, if you will.

As expected, the parking lot of Ivy House is almost full by the time I get there. Just ten minutes before the event is scheduled to start. I would have been earlier if my mother hadn’t spent twenty minutes lecturing me about being on my best behavior tonight.

“You’re a reflection of this farm.”

Those six words taunted me my entire youth. Especially because my older brother could do no wrong in my parents’ eyes. So much so I started calling himSaint Bennettwhen we were teenagers. There was never any question in anyone’s mind, he would take over the farm when my parents were ready to retire. No one loved Merry & Bright more than Bennett.

It was never going to be mine. So, instead, I learned to work with what I had instead. Maybe out of spite. Or rejection. Or a mix of the two. My parents never intended to make me feel like I was second fiddle to my older brother but it doesn’t change the fact that I always have.

Working with what I had, I played on just about every sports team our high school offered and got good enough grades to be accepted at Vermont Tech. Away from the constant magnifying glass on my life, I was the king of the world. Or, at least, the campus. I charmed my way into the pants of every girl I wanted in college, and I’ve yet to strike out in Boston.

I do have my doubts about tonight though. Even in high school, I never hooked up with girls from Blue Spruce Hills. This town is too small. I've seen what happens to my friends after awkward one night hookups a few too many times. But if I intend on staying, I might as well see what my options are… and if hometown hospitality carries over into the bedroom.

The moment I step over the threshold into Ivy House, my name is being called from across the room. Clara Ivy waves to get my attention like there is any possible way I could miss the reindeer antler headband on top of her head. She lights up the whole room as she walks toward me. Don’t get me wrong. Her presence in itself is bright, but it’s the multi-colored bulbs and sparkling green garland wrapped around her sweater this time.

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