Page 15 of Holly Jolly Heresy
Someone up there has a sick sense of humor.
The Stable may have been a barn once, but there was only the barest hint of that history remaining in the large, open concept cabin. The wide-plank hardwood floors, exposed beams, and large stone fireplace with its barnwood mantle gave the space a rustic vibe at odds with the luxury furniture and stainless-steel appliances in the kitchen. When Caleb and Molly burst through the front door, a flurry of snow followed them inside and covered the welcome mat. It had been a treacherous trudge from the motel to the cabin through the rapidly accumulating snowdunes, and Molly’s fingers stung as newfound warmth thawed her frozen extremities.
“Take off your shoes,” Caleb said.
Molly pulled her attention away from the wall of windows at the back of the living room overlooking a stretch of forest blanketed in white to find Caleb sitting on the small wooden bench just inside the front door, untying his sneakers.
“They’re soaked through, Molly. We need to get out of these wet clothes. Take off your shoes before your feet freeze.”
“Right, of course.”
She sat down next to him and untied her shoes, ignoring the way her thigh brushed against his. That wasn’t a helpful thing to notice in a time like this, not when there was this weird tension between them since she’d scolded him back at the school, and especially not when Caleb’s eyes seemed to be locked on her feet. Her bright green socks featured a shirtless Santa, suspenders framing his six-pack abs. They’d been a Christmas gift from Jo last year and, when she’d put them on that morning, they’d made her giggle. Now, she couldn’t peel them off her wet feet fast enough.
“I knew you couldn’t be a grinch. No one who hates Christmas would own those socks,” Caleb teased lightly, as though he was testing if it was still okay to.
“I never said I hate Christmas.” Molly stomped over to the fireplace, wet socks balled in her hands. Mary had mentioned the fireplace was gas. If she could just find the ‘on’ switch, they could warm up faster, but there didn’t seem to be any buttons hidden in the stonework.
Suddenly, the fire roared to life and Molly spun around to find Caleb aiming a remote at the fireplace. “So is it just depictions of Jesus’ birth you take issue with or—”
“They were inflatable lobsters! What exactly is Christ-like about inflatable crustaceans?”
Caleb laughed, his Adam’s apple bobbing above his clerical collar. “Nothing at all,” he conceded. “NothingChrist-likeabout horny Santa socks, either.”
Molly threw the wadded up wet socks at him, smiling. “I don’t know. Jesus was a carpenter. I bet that man had abs for days.”
He blinked. “Did you just…objectify the Lord?” She told herself the heat overtaking her face was because of her proximity to the fireplace. Caleb shook his head and tossed the socks back at her. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
She should let it drop, but as she followed him up the staircase to the bedrooms where Mary had promised they’d find dry bathrobes and slippers, she couldn’t help but needle him. “Is it my preference for secular Christmas iconography that bothers you, or is it the idea Santa can be sexy?”
“Santa can be whatever you want.Santa’snot real.”
Molly gasped in mock shock. “How can you say he’s not real when we have at least twenty of his outfits in the back of your car?”
Something flashed behind Caleb’s eyes and his darkened gaze flitted over her form, the same heated look he’d given her back at the school when she’d held up the Santa dress. If she’d blinked, she might have missed the way his throat bobbed on his upward sweep of her body, a ruddy color spreading over his cheekbones. He threw open the closet door at her side, and pulled out two white terrycloth robes, his expression clearing as he carefully removed them from their hangers.
“I’ll change in the other room.” He handed her a robe before disappearing back into the hallway, pulling the bedroom door closed behind him and leaving Molly with a hot, staticky feeling prickling along the path his eyes had taken.
Molly stripped off her shirt and shimmied out of her jeans, the lower half of which were completely soaked from their trek through the snow. Thankfully, her bra and panties were dry andthe robe was soft and warm against her skin. She shot off a quick text to Jo to let her know she wouldn’t be making it back to their shared apartment that night.
Jo:You’re snowed in?? Please tell me there’s only one bed.
Molly:There are plenty of beds. I think this place has something like six bedrooms.
Jo:Well, that’s disappointing.
Molly rolled her eyes.
Molly:It’s just one night. Once the storm clears, we’ll be back on the road in the morning.
Jo:You have to tell me what Father West looks like with his shirt off. I bet he’s got one of those muscle V’s pointing to his dick.
Molly:I will not be seeing Caleb with his shirt off. How would that even happen?
Jo:I don’t know. Spill a drink on him. Get creative. Horny former Catholic school girls everywhere are counting on you!
Molly:Good night, Jo. I’ll text you when we get on the road tomorrow.
Jo:Have fun being snowed in with the hot priest. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
