Page 11 of Inherited Holiday

“Hmm… that’ll be the day,” I mumbled under my breath while Felix gave the puppy one last ear rub and left.

These two had always been like night and day. Nicholas wasn’t like any of his family members. He was actually the opposite. He and Felix were constantly bumping heads, and I knew it wholeheartedly hurt Felix that their grandfather chose to leave this town to a man who technically turned his back on everyone in it.

Especially his family.

I didn’t bother to turn around. Instead, I started making my way back inside when Nicholas suddenly asked, “Why does my brother have a key to your house?”

I abruptly turned, standing strong. “So what if he does? What are you going to do about it? Come to think of it, you don’t get to do anything but stand there and wallow in your own cold Grinch heart and Scrooge soul.”

His hand dramatically flew to his heart as he made a grunting sound. “I know you didn’t just offend me looking like the gingerbread woman?”

I chuckled, choking it back down immediately. Before he could see he was getting to me, I opened my front door, and he yelled out, “I always preferred your holiday onesies!”

I smiled, hating myself for it until I finally closed the door, safe and sound inside. His reminder provoked the exact response he desired. I thought about all the times I paraded around him wearing very tight spandex little numbers that I didn’t think twice about. It was how our friendship was, and neither one of us had an issue with it.

“This isn’t over, Elle!” he exclaimed through the wood as if he knew what I was thinking. “You can’t hide from me! I’m your neighbor now! Besides, can’t break tradition! Where’s my Mistletoe Town welcome basket? Huh? I don’t see my cookies!”

“Cookies are only for good boys,” I whispered to my new puppy as I made my way into the kitchen.

After I had situated and organized my new life with a baby, Nicholas caught my attention through the big window as I walked toward the stairs. He was rolling his luggage up his new driveway with a bewildered expression.

“Why does every house have to look like Santa took a shit on it with Christmas lights and candy canes?”

I bit back a laugh.

Every house but his…

If he thought he would win this between us, he had another thing coming. Since he demanded Mrs. Claus hospitality, I’d have to deliver whether I wanted to or not.

The last thing I wanted to do was not treat him like another tourist wanting to experience the winter wonderland that was Mistletoe Town. The second the thought struck me, it started to snow, and I took in the beauty of the white flakes cascading down the frigid night sky.

I was about to walk up the stairs to my bedroom when I heard him yell, “I fucking hate snow!”

For the rest of the night, I tried not to sneak a look at him through my bedroom window. His bedroom window was right next to mine, and all the windows paralleled one another for both homes. The main reason I had drapes was to ensure my privacy everywhere I walked in my house.

The Bullers’ home, on the other hand, had been vacant for a while, and they only just got furniture delivered last week. They were still awaiting window treatments for their renters. I owned my two-story, three-bedroom, two-bath, twenty-five-hundred-square-foot house with a pool. This was the second thing I bought after my car a couple of years ago. I loved everything about my home. There wasn’t anything that wasn’t designed to meet my style.

It was my pride and joy, and I took the best care of it. It was everything you’d picture a cozy baker’s sanctuary to be. It feltlike a home from the moment you stepped into the open foyer with a huge snowflake chandelier above your head. It was only one of the endless amounts of decorations I had displayed for this time of year.

If I was being completely honest, I kept up with some of it year-round, like the gingerbread cookies. To say I had Christmas decor coming out of my ass was an understatement. Not only was my attic filled with decorations but my garage and basement were too. I had to buy an extra storage shed in my backyard to hold even more decorations, but I’d yet to build it.

I made a mental note to book a handyperson through that referral service I used for a cleaning crew. I needed someone to help me set it up. I had no idea how or where to begin assembling something that large. I always felt terrible asking Felix to help me with honey-do lists around my house, but he was insistent I do. He never let me pay him, which made matters worse. I mean, we casually flirted sometimes, but it was harmless fun. He wasn’t my boyfriend, and we’d never gone on a date, so there was no reason for him to do those things for me.

Taking the puppy out to potty one last time before bed, I laid him in his crate, and he whined instantly. Nothing I did would make him stop crying. I hated that I had to do this, but he needed to be crate trained, or I at least had to try. By the time three thirty in the morning rolled around, I got an unexpected text from an unknown caller.

Throwing the silk pillow off my head, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand. Blinking away the haze and darkness, I slowly read the words on the screen.

For the love of God… can you please make that tiny terrorist shut the hell up?

Nicholas?

Noelle: How did you get my number?

Nicholas: It’s funny how numbers work. It’s the same one you’ve always had.

Noelle: Considering you never used it after you left, I figured you forgot it, but it wasn’t until you changed your number that I got the real message.

The bubbles kept appearing on and off my screen, indicating he was writing and then deleting what he was trying to text back until another message dinged through.

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