Page 36 of Such a Naughty Girl

The sun set over the shallow snow-covered landscape, sending great black shadows dancing over the cabin. Black shadows that settled over me with therealisationit was another Christmas alone.

Chunk whined as the evening deepened to night, the sparkling tree lights mocking me from the corner. The jolly sweater ignited as I stuffed it into the log burner, and Chunk and I sat side by side eating over-cooked chicken straight from the carcass while watching the last vestiges of hope go up in flame.

‘Just me and you, Chunk,’I sighed.

Like it should have been.

Izzy was too pretty a thing to come and be corrupted by me. She must have got home and buffed out my touch like someone shining up a bad penny. Removed me like old dirt.

Unimportant. Forgotten.

Broken-hearted once more. And I couldn’t blame her. I’d let the specter of Izzy drive me through the year. I’d fanned the tiny spark she’d given me the previous year into an inferno, not realizing I’d be burning myself in the process.

‘C’mon Chunk, we’ll wake up tomorrow and tear all this shit down.’

I undid the long ribbon I’dpainstakinglytied into a perfect bow around his collar and threw it on the coffee table in a pool of shining red.

My bed welcomed me into its dark depths, smelling too floral with the new detergent I’d bought to make sure it was clean for my girl.

Notmygirl.

She had never been mine.

What an old fool.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

IZZY

My car inched along the road as I squinted into the forest, looking for any glimpse of his cabin.

‘It has to be around here,’I murmured to myself. It was my third trip along the road that morning, trying to spy the spot where I could turn. There had to be vehicular access, right?

With the sun finally making an entrance to the day, I caught sight of it glinting off something to my left. Tiny glass bulbs dangling from tree to tree. If only they’d been switched on, I might have spotted them in the dim morning light.

My tires protested as I turned the steering wheel, my car bumping onto the rough forest track.

A soulful Christmas tune crackled from the radio as I followed the trail through the tree-topped tunnel.

Emotion welled as Emmett’s cabin came into view, lazy smoke billowing up from the metallic chimney. Coming back felt like finding the X on a treasure map after a year of stumbling from one empty moment to another.

Christmas Day with my family had felt lacking. Like something, or someone, was missing. A certain towering, bearded, oddball.

My pulse hit my throat like the tick of aquickeningclock. Would he be happy to see me? Or was I a few hours too late?

I braked, my car giving a small squeal as it gripped the snowy ground. Holding onto the steering wheel, I took a slow breath, willing my heart to calm its excited gallop.

I hoped coming back didn’t prove to be a foolish mistake.

I hefted the bundle of gifts I’d brought, for both Emmett and Chunk, into my arms and headed for the cabin.

Nerves sent manicbutterfliesswarming in my stomach. With the wooden verandas beneath my boots, it all became real. The potential joy. The potential rejection.

The gifts tried to tumble to the ground as I worked one hand free to knock on the door. I held them against me until a booming bark had me leap out of my skin and drop them all.

‘Damn it,’I groaned, ducking down to dust the wet from them and pile them back into my arms.

The door yanked open, and a bleary-eyed Emmett stared down at me, his face a picture of surprise.

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