Licking Her Christmas Valentine by Alina Jacobs

Author:Alina Jacobs [Jacobs, Alina]
Language: eng
Format: epub

3

NOELLE

“I literally cannot believe you did that!” Elsa crowed as I drove down the long winding road that led through the woods to my family’s Christmas tree farm.

“Gosh, Oliver must have been so pissed.”

“He was furious!” I whooped over the Christmas carols that Elsa insisted on blaring.

Sure, for the rest of the shifts, Olga had kept a watchful eye and snapped at me whenever she thought I was going too slow or not displaying enough Christmas cheer, but it had been worth it to finally have the upper hand on Oliver for once.

“You’re my spirit animal,” Elsa sighed. She was my best friend and cousin and had been with me every torturous step of the way since I’d met Oliver.

“You did what every girl dreams of—get revenge on the walking penis who wronged her.” Elsa rolled down the window of the old Chevy truck and screamed, “Girl power!”

“It barely counts as revenge,” I complained.

“You ruined his expensive suit and gorgeous hair,” Elsa said reverently.

I clenched my hands on the steering wheel. I was not going to think about how it felt to run my fingers through said hair.

“Wealthy guys like him don’t care about ruined clothes.”

“When he eventually remembers you,” Elsa said as I pulled up and parked by the wood pile, “then he’ll put two and two together and see that his own actions led to his public humiliation.”

“If he does remember me—which, honestly, he probably never will because he’s a sociopath and a player—he’ll just play it off like, ‘Oh, my dick’s so magical that it drives women crazy,’” I snapped, turning off the car.

“To be fair, it did make you a little bit crazy,” Elsa said, kicking the passenger door open with her boot.

“No, that was the aftermath of...” I blew out a breath. “Never mind.”

I needed to go into the holiday war zone with a clear head, not with eighty percent of my brain occupied by Oliver Frost.

“Maybe your mom will be in a good mood today,” Elsa said, wincing.

I paused, my hand on the wobbly front door handle.

“And maybe my sister finally got some emotional maturity and is acting like an adult.”

I opened the door and ducked as my mom’s calico cat, Gingersnap, flew past me, chased by Max, a chunky, still untrained corgi who was last year’s Christmas present.

“Someone stop that dog!” my mother hollered, waving a rolling pin, apron strings flying as she ran out of the kitchen. “He tipped over my last bottle of wine.”

Elsa raced after the animals.

My mom wavered on her feet. “It was my last bottle.”

“I’ll make you some tea instead,” I said delicately, taking the rolling pin.

“Don’t judge me,” my mom insisted as I herded her back to the kitchen and past my brother. He was sitting in the living room, playing a fantasy video game on his laptop while my grandmother yelled obscenities at the rerun of last year’s Great Christmas Bake Off that blared on the small TV.

My mom picked up the empty wine bottle and shook the last few drops into her glass.

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