Page 1 of This December

Chapter 1

December James

South Lake Tahoe, CA

These gorgeous chalets were a dime a dozen—and about a million miles away frommyreality. My ancient Ford Explorer coasted to a stop on the chalet’s snow-covered driveway. My parents had gifted me the SUV when I’d graduated from high school almost a decade ago—and it’d been old then. But at least it was reliable in Tahoe’s ridiculous winter months. Lord knew, it’d been unwieldy in San Jose back in my old life.

I got out of the SUV with a huge sigh. San Jose felt like a lifetime away. Trudging through the six inches of snow still blanketing the chalet’s driveway, I comforted myself with the thought that at least I didn’t have to shovel the mile long driveway here. As I reached the back of my car, I hit the button to open the rear hatch then surveyed the bags and bags of groceries I was here to deliver. This was going to take so many trips. And why paper? I could’ve saved myself half the trips if I had plastic handles to hold.

With another shoulder heaving sigh, I grabbed the two bags nearest me and started the journey to the ornate front door. The snow was so thick and heavy, each step felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Or maybe that was the weight of my disappointment pressing me down.

I didn’t pause to appreciate the gorgeous “cabin” with its lodgepole framed front porch or the cathedral windows overhead that pointed at the surrounding forest when I reached the steps to the porch. I tromped to the door, set the bags down against the wall, and returned to my SUV to do it all over again.

On my third trip, I cursed the douche who’d ordered a twenty pound bag of potatoes to be delivered when I heard a telltaleriiiippfollowed by a soft thud thenglug, glug, glug.

Half a gallon of oat milk was currently washing over my boots and the driveway in a slow but steady spurt.

As I reached to grab it, the potatoes shifted, and I slipped on the spilled milk then went down. Beets, kale, and cherry tomatoes rained down on me as I lay sprawled on the driveway in the middle of all the destruction.

Stunned for a second, I blinked up at the gray sky.

Then the insanity of the moment hit me, and I full-on belly laughed. I was twenty-six, laid off from my career earning job, now living with my parents again, and delivering groceries to pay off my mammoth student loans. And I was almost taken out by half a gallon of oat milk.

How was this my life?

Fuck it.

I dropped the potatoes I’d still been inexplicably clutching and waved my arms and legs, making an impromptu snow angel while laughing like a loon.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?”

My giggles trailed off as I found myself staring up at a gorgeous man in a sheepskin jacket. It was almost like I’d conjured him from my dreams; he had everything I loved in a man. The short cropped brown hair. The mischievous brown eyes. Dark brown stubble covering his cheeks and jawline. When he reached out to give me a hand up, I noticed the silver bands on a few of his fingers. And I knew he had style and a bit of attitude without him saying another word.

“Miss?” He frowned when I didn’t take his offered hand. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“Nope. Just damaged my ego there for a minute.” I gave him a wan smile and wiggled my hands out of the snow.

He tilted his head and took a step back, dropping his offered hand. “So you decided to make a snow angel?”

I shrugged and sat up. “Seemed like the thing to do. I haven’t had a chance to play in the new powder yet.”

He blinked a couple of times then a smile curved his lips. “When in Rome, I guess.”

“Or Tahoe.” Putting my hands under me, I attempted to push myself up when he stepped back toward me and grabbed me, easily pulling me to my feet. “Ah, thanks.”

“No problem. You made a pretty good angel.”

I thought for a second he was complimenting me. My cheeks heated with my flush until I realized he was looking down at the driveway and the imprint I’d made.

Right.

I laughed at myself and his praise. “I never get the head right. It always reminds me of a tick—big body,littlehead.”

He swung his gaze to me and this time I definitely wasn’t imagining the heat in his eyes as he looked at me. “Nah, I’d definitely say you’re proportional.”

Sexual tension crackled between us. Did he really say that? Wow. Combining all that was him with that smolder in his eyes, it was suddenly hard to breathe.

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