Page 1 of Naughty & Nice
Chapter One
Oliver
Thick snowflakes flurry down from the gray skies, slowing traffic and my progress. A howling wind whips my Audi side to side and frosts my windows. Traffic shouldn’t be this heavy here on the interstate but here I sit. I curse my plans for a countless time as horns blare, the wind wails, and snow blankets my windshield.
It’s late on a Wednesday just before Christmas. Every station plays jingle bells or merry little Christmas songs, the towns I pass are lit up with twinkling lights, and the general feeling in the air is one of joy and good tidings.
It is honestly making me a little sick.
Don’t get me wrong; I love a good holiday ham meal, a roaring fire, and gift giving. Usually, I enjoy the holidays as much as the next guy. Only the past few years, I've not gotten the chance to enjoy one, really. I guess I'm a bit bitter about it—not quite a grinch but I'm not drinking eggnog and singing along with the radio.
“It can wait, brother,” my best friend Keegan’s voice plays in my head, “Stay here with us for the holidays.”
Keegan and I grew up with parents who came from nothing and broke their backs to get just a littlesomething. They lived for their work but not because they enjoyed it, or it fulfilled them. They didn’t want to us to go without ever again—I respect their drive and I think we both inherited it but that is an empty life.
When we started our construction business with a few grand and little knowledge, we swore we wouldn’t turn into them. We’d make time for our family, our friends, and ourselves. Both of us did okay for a while—until we tasted a little success. Success tasted so good that we forgot our promises. Our lives became all about our business and nothing else.
That is until he laid eyes on Kady Bartlett. A sassy and sexy chef, she caught his eye and stole his heart, changing everything. My best friend falling in love has changed both our lives. Suddenly it’s not just the two of us against the world.
Business has come first for so long—before our families, our friends, and even ourselves. No time for holidays, fun or anything serious with a woman. Not before Kady. While I am happy for him and I adore her, the abrupt change in our lives has been a little difficult for me.
Basically—I am painfully aware of how lonely I am.
During a big Thanksgiving meal with our friends, they announced they were moving in together. I learned all at once that they were shacking up and I’d be living on my own for the first time. It was the first holiday we’ve spent with anyone in years, but I felt totally alone.
I blame that loneliness for me being out here now. Keegan didn’t want me to handle this now, but I needed the excuse to get away. Clear my head. Get over how lonely I feel and try to ignore the jealousy I feel when I see how perfect his life has become.
“I want to handle it now,”I told him as I packed,“Besides, I need to get out of town for a while. I need a breather, I think,”I regretted my words because they really meant I needed a breather fromhim.
When we partnered with Gabe Holmes and Brady Lowe almost two years ago, we packed up and moved to Harmony Hollow to revitalize the town. It’s been a great partnership and we have several builds lined up through the coming year.
Our next project begins after the holidays, but I never like to slow down. Instead of waiting for the designer they hired for a new floral shop to make the trip to town, I am headed to meet them. I think a flower place should be easy enough to pull together so I want to get the details down so we can get to work.
“Not again,” I groan in the quiet of my car as another version of Jingle Bells comes on the radio.
I twist the dial and turn it to a rock station, only to find it playing a rock version of the same song. Iwant toget in the mood for the holidays. I’d like to be in Harmony Hollow with my friends putting up trees or decorating Main Street.
Right now, I don’t feel I have much to celebrate.
Traffic picks up finally and my foot hits the gas as I cut through the lanes. I should have been to North Pole nearly an hour ago. I was supposed to meet the designer for dinner, and I hoped to get back on the road after. Not only am I late for our meeting, but I doubt I’ll be able to make it back home tonight.
When I finally hit town and am assaulted with the merriest village I have ever seen, I want to turn back around. Coming to the quaintest town in the country while I’m feeling a bit bah-humbug is the worst idea I’ve had in recent memory. I wanted away from this all back home; there the yuletide yucks have just started.
Here it looks as if the town turns on the minute the season gives them a reason to. The vistas of Adirondack Park with its snow-covered pines and the tiny village are beautiful, sure. Lights line every colorful rooftop, decorations hang from every lamp post, and bright and merry wreaths adorn every door.
I pause at a flashing red light, taking a good look around. Turning down my radio, I laugh out loud. Several versions of Jingle Bells fill the air from the store fronts. No way in hell I can get away from the holidays here. Sighing as I head for the business district, I seek out the restaurant I was supposed to be at twenty minutes ago.
“I hate jingle bells, I hate snow, and I hate being late,” I grumble to myself as I pull into a parking spot. “Get in there, get what you need, and get back on the road,” I give myself a pep talk in the rearview mirror.
Stepping out of the car, I curse as my Italian loafers wind up ankle deep in slushy snow. The flakes fall slowly here but they are heavy and wet. By the time I reach the door of the little eatery, my light wool jacket is soaked, my short dark hair heavy with snow, and my mood even more sour.
“Welcome, sir. How can we help you tonight?”
A bright and friendly voice greets me as I stamp the snow off my ruined shoes and shake off the bitter cold. I try to manage a smile for her, I really do, but it doesn’t come. I tell her why I am here and her pretty face twists in a look I don’t understand. Her eyes flick back over her shoulder where just a few guests sit at little tables lit up by flickering candles.
Peering into the dim light of the restaurant, I follow her gaze. It seems a bit intimate of a place to be meeting for business, but the designer chose. Something sends a cold chill up my back as I zone in on the table the hostess nods towards. Turning back to me, the look on her face turns back to the polite one she offered earlier, and she nods.
“Follow me, sir. Your guest is waiting. In fact, your guest has been waiting for some time,” she tosses this over her shoulder, but I say nothing as I follow her.
