Page 116 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
“Uh-huh, I think that’s what you’re telling yourself, but I know the real truth.”
“And what’s that?” I ask her as I begin to shape another candy cane.
“I think you secretly like having me around.”
Probably more than you realize…
“So do you think you can handle that on your own?” I ask Storee as we walk toward my truck, carrying a bagful of candy canes and some chocolates because we were both interested in the huckleberry truffles.
“No,” she says. We reach my truck and I open the passenger door for her. Her body brushes up against mine and instead of stepping in, she turns toward me. “You know, you don’t have to open the door for me.”
“Habit,” I answer.
“It’s a nice habit to have.”
The clouds have parted, and the sun is shining, barely peeking past the peaks of the mountains. And despite the chill in the air, the snow isn’t quite sticking to the roads, which is a good thing. But given the time of the day and the mountains blocking the sun, it’s going to get dark soon.
“Thank you again for today, Cole. I really appreciate it. I appreciate everything.”
“Yeah, of course,” I say, looking anywhere but into her gorgeous eyes.
“Does this make us friends now?” she asks. “Like actual friends, like we were when we were younger?”
“I don’t know,” I say as I hang on to the door. “Are you going to call me Connor?”
She chuckles. “No, I thought we established that you’re Snow Daddy now.”
“If you call me Snow Daddy, we are one hundred percent not friends.”
“Oof, someone can’t take a joke.”
“Someone doesn’t want to be referred to as Snow Daddy.”
“I don’t see why not,” she says as she leans against the truck with clearly no intention of getting in. “Snow Daddy makes it seem like you own Christmas, like if Christmas wanted a spanking, you’d be the one that gave it to them.”
My brow raises. “If Christmas wanted a spanking?”
She chuckles. “Oh yeah, Christmas can be a real kinky bitch.”
“Umm, I’m going to need you to explain.”
“Well, first, there’s the whole mistletoe thing. Forcing people to kiss on cue? Kinky. Then there’s the whole sitting on Santa’s lap thing…old man kink. Not to mention the wreathes and candles.”
“What about the wreathes and candles?” I ask.
“Oh my God, Cole. It’s like vaginas and penises hung all around.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask with a laugh.
“The wreath is the vagina, the candle is the penis. Put them together and, well, sex.”
I tug on my hair. “Charming as that is, I don’t think Christmas is kinky.”
“Clearly, you’re not looking at it the right way. You’re stuck in your head, in your perfect little Christmas town.”
“Are you telling me there’s more to Christmas outside of Kringle? But I thought we had a choke hold on Christmas.”
“Ah-ha!” she says, pointing at me. “See? Choking…kinky. Christmas is kinky.”
