All I Want For Christmas Is You - Vi Keeland Page 0,1
fifteen times what it was in the winter. Year-rounders like me weren’t the norm.
“It is quiet for most of the winter,” I said. Though I didn’t bother to add that in just a few weeks, our little block would have a constant stream of cars passing by. People came from all the surrounding towns to see my decorations. He’d have to deal. After all, the money people donated when they came by went to charity.
Mr. Grumpy’s eyes roamed my face. Apparently whatever he was looking for he didn’t find, because he frowned and stomped back to his house without another word.
Sighing, I kneeled back down to finish setting up the mailbox lights and mumbled under my breath, “So rude.”
“Rude is being inconsiderate of the people around you!” my neighbor yelled as he walked up his driveway.
How the hell had he heard me?
I cupped my hands around my mouth and leaned toward his house as I yelled back, “Or saying someone’s hard work looks like vomit!”
He responded with the loud slam of his front door.
What a jerk.
The following week, I went shopping with my friend Sarah for new decorations to add to my display. Sarah lived in Manhattan and mostly spent summers in the Hamptons, but all I’d had to do was mention shopping and she’d come out to visit me for the day.
Our mission complete, we’d started to unload the packed trunk of my car back home in my driveway. There had to be at least twenty bags of lights and decorations, plus the backseat had two gorgeous, six-foot-tall nutcrackers I’d snagged at an incredible pre-season sale. As I collected another handful of bags, Mr. Grumpy’s big, obnoxious truck came down the street. I hadn’t seen him since our lovely last encounter at my mailbox a few days ago. He shook his head as he rolled by and parked in his driveway.
My friend turned and caught a glimpse of the man behind the wheel. “Ooooh…” she cooed. “I forgot all about him. Hot Neighbor moved in during the spring, right? Why didn’t we see him at all over the summer?”
I shrugged. “He bought the house in April, I think. But he wasn’t around much until recently.”
Sarah looked across the street and waved. “God, he’s really gorgeous. Emily Vanderquint’s husband mentioned him at your Labor Day party. He said he’s some sort of author. Something about a summer book tour? Apparently he’s very popular—that’s probably why he wasn’t around much.”
“Yeah, well, he’s also a jerk.”
“Really?” She licked her lips. “I don’t mind jerks. The bigger the chip on the shoulder, the hotter the sex. Are you…interested in him?”
I scoffed. “Definitely not. If he doesn’t already hate me, he’s going to in six days.”
“So…you wouldn’t mind if I went over and said hello, then?”
An unexpected pang of jealousy hit me, though that was ridiculous. I shrugged and closed the trunk. “Suit yourself. Have at it.”
Sarah smiled, smoothed her hair, and gave a little tug to the hem of her sweater, which caused the V-neck to showcase more cleavage.
“Leave the big nutcrackers in the backseat,” she said. “I’m going to ask him for help lifting them out.”
“Uhhh... That’s probably not a good idea. The man loathes my Christmas display.”
But Sarah was already walking across the street. She raised a hand and called out as he walked to his front door. “Yoo-hoo! Mr. Neighbor Man!”
I rolled my eyes and headed to the garage to store the packages from my trunk. A few minutes later, Sarah came back with Mr. Grumpy in tow.
“Cole here is going to help us lift out those heavy nutcrackers.”
I smirked at him. “Cole? Is that your real name or what old Saint Nick leaves in your stocking because you’re such a scrooge?”
Mr. Grumpy tried to keep a stoic face, but I caught the little twitch at the corner of his mouth. Sarah opened the back door of my car, and he peered inside.
“Gee, a nutcracker for the woman who likes to bust my balls. How appropriate.”
“Good one.” I laughed. “Your wittiness doesn’t make up for your grumpiness, though.”
Sarah interrupted, “I, uh, actually have to run—late for an appointment. Have fun!”
She disappeared, getting into her car before I could even give her a dirty look. She’d intentionally left me alone with this curmudgeon guy.
He watched her drive away, then turned to me. “So why exactly am I contributing to this holiday vomit again?”
I tilted my head. “Because deep down you have a soul, Cole?”