Page 20 of The Bad Boy's Secret Santa

Well, fuck.

Chapter Twelve

PIPER

“Piper, you’ve hardly touched your dinner,” Grandma says from across her kitchen table, concern etched on her face. She was surprised when I showed up without Eli, but she didn’t press me about it. I didn’t have it in me to tell her what happened. I feelsostupid.

“I’m just not that hungry.”

“Maybe you’d like some poppy seed bread?” she offers.

“A little later?”

“Oh boy. This is worse than I thought.” Grandma pushes out of her chair, carrying our dinner plates to the counter.

“Eli asked me to run away with him again,” I finally admit.

“Did he now?” Grandma doesn’t sound all that surprised, but I don’t have it in me to get all worked up over it. I exhausted every last ounce of fight when I kicked Eli out of my apartment this morning. By now, the man is probably halfway home to his glamourous city life. More than anything, I just feel defeated. I wassocertain that this was the Christmas I would finally find my true love.

Will I be a laughingstock when everyone in town realizes I’m the only personally invited participant who came up empty this year where love is concerned?

A lump rises in my throat. “I thought he wanted to stay.”

Grandma disappears into the other room for a moment, returning with my coat in hand. She’s already slipped on her own. “Why don’t we take a walk? It’s a beautiful night to take a stroll around the park.”

“It’s ten degrees outside.”

“Twenty-two, actually. And the snow is falling ever so lightly. It’s positively magical if you ask me.” She wiggles my coat. “You used to love walking with me around the park.” When I hesitate, she adds “The fresh air will do you good.”

I relent, mostly because I’m too tired to argue. Grandma Wilma can be fairly persistent when she wants to be.

I’m so numb on the inside that the cold hardly affects me. Itdoesfeel nice. I take a deep breath, hold it until the chill warms in my lungs and then let it out slowly. Home. This will always be home. And he just didn’t get it.

“How do you come up with the names?” I ask.

“What’s that, dear?”

I know she’s playing stupid, but I don’t call her out. ItisChristmas Eve, after all. “How do you pick the names for who will get a Secret Santa each year?” I can’t for the life of me figure out how she knew Eli would be back. Neither of us had seen him before he waltzed into the community center. And at that point, his name was already in the gift bag tucked away in my purse.

“Oh, Piper.” Grandma loops her arm through mine.

“Let me guess,” I say, feeling a little bit like a brat but trying to keep it lighthearted, “Christmas magic?”

“Hey, it’s a pretty potent thing when you believe in it.”

“I used to.”

She pats my arm. “You still do.”

“I don’t know—” But I’m struck silent when we round the corner and reach the center of the park. The big evergreen tree that’s been bare this holiday season is covered in decorations. It looks as though a giant elf dumped a house-sized box of ornaments, strings of lights, and yards of garland on it.

Eli.

“The lights don’t appear to be on,” Grandma says, her tone sounding the slightest bit suspicious.

When I see him standing beside the tree, looking my way, the lump in my throat dissolves and tears fall without my permission. I thought for sure he’d left town once he realized I had no intention of going with him.

I don’t even realize that Grandma is leading us to the tree until I’m only a few feet away from Eli. “How did you?—”

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