Page 179 of Screwged for Christmas

Gabriel killed the fire back at the rundown hotel, motel, murderers-r-us whatever while I packed the few things we brought in with us and we both agreed if we managed to make it this far we would either hold up in the truck, or if a Christmas miracle happened and we found a decent room in a non-creepy backwoods motel, we would wait out the storm there. As far as I was concerned, I could stay right here in the truck, wrap myself around Gabriel and stare at Christmas lights until I couldn’t stay awake any longer.

I’d also go for a bed because I wanted to find out what it would be like to see such a mountain of a man beneath me.

Honestly, I never wanted to leave the place.

Every passing twinkle light and decorated shrub had my face plastered to the window trying to take it all in. I probably looked like a ten-year-old with how I couldn’t stop smiling.

They had roads with names like Silent Night Drive and Santa Lane, I kid you not. Plastic Santas, sleighs, and bows decorated everything.

Umm, a little secret not many knew about me—not even my father— was I loved Christmas. Yeah, like, goofy sweaters, matching pajamas, holiday parties, deck the house in a million lights kind of love.

Gabriel slid a look my way. “You like what you see?”

I knew I wore a grin that touched each ear, so why he needed to ask I have no clue. “HA! Try love. Christmas is my favorite holiday.”

A shocked look flashed over Gabriel’s expression. “Really?”

“Yep, only I never got a chance to live out my dreams of sharing my love for the holiday. Can’t exactly decorate a private jet or hotel room on the years I traveled with him and on the years Dad was never around.” I shrugged. “Not fun when going solo and my mom, well, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, baby. She would have loved seeing you this happy. That pretty smile on your face. I know I do.” Gabriel reached out and stroked a thumb over my cheek when my smile dipped at the memory of my mother.

She passed away shortly after I was born due to complications and it was just me and my dad ever since. Or more like, me, nannies, tutors and my dad stopping in long enough to sign the checks. Don’t get me wrong, I loved him more than anything in the world. He cared for me, only in his own way. But for tonight, I shrugged away the sad memories and focused on the here and now.

I took Gabriel’s hand in mine and soaked in all the glittery lights and festivities I could. Tens of people paid no attention to the snow. They bustled about, smiles on their faces and packages tucked under their arms.

“Oh, look. They’re getting ready for a party.”

“A tree lighting,” he offered warmly.

I arched a brow. “You speak as if you know.”

“You could say that.”

“Wanna go?”

“Maybe. First food. Mayor Johnson tends to be a little long-winded for how cold it is outside tonight. But we can see it from where we are going.”

I turned to the side window when we eased down Mistletoe Lane before coming to a stop outside a cute bakery with garland and all sorts of decorations blinking from the front.

“I swear, If I’d known this place was here all this time I would have totally found a hotel here instead of back at the Mystique. Honestly, because of who my father is I have to keep up this persona. It’s all a never-ending game really.” I pursed my lips. “About how I talked to you back at the hotel. Yeah, that’s not really who I am. I’m not some brat. I’ve just been playing this part to fit in for so long I’ve kind of adopted this preppy college kid vibe.”

Beside me, Gabriel reached out and settled a hand on my thigh, and I immediately felt a jolt of heat bloom from my center and feed into my whole body.

“It all worked out. I have no regrets of slinging you over my shoulder.”

I turned as red as the bathing suit I still wore under my warmer clothes.

“And I’m glad you like the town. I come here every year so it’s grown on me.”

I sat back. “You do?”

Gabriel climbed out of the truck and pulled me across the expansive seat with him,

“Creamed Pie Bakery?” I asked, unable to hold back a small laugh when I looked up at the pretty red and white sign. “After what you did to me back at the hotel I should have known you would bring me to a place like this,” I teased, falling into his open arms, snow catching in our hair.

We’re tucked behind the truck door so I give a throaty forbidden moan when he slid a hand past the band of my pants to grip my ass cheek. “You don’t like pie? Would you rather we go somewhere else?”

“Tough questions to answer. Yes, and yes please.” Just then my stomach gave another gurgling plea for food. “Or how about I let the dinner bill speak for me in an hour as to how much I love pie and we can leave the other question open?”

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