Leslie Kelly – Wicked Christmas Nights: It Happened One Christmas (страница 3)
Huh-uh.
The man was gorgeous. Truly, without-a-doubt, mouth-wateringly handsome, and every bit as hot as he’d been the first time she’d laid eyes on him. But he wasn’t that young, lean, hungry-looking guy anymore. Now he was all fully realized, powerful, strong—and devastatingly attractive—man.
She’d been twenty-two when they met, he two years older. And during the brief time they’d spent together, Ross had blown away all her preconceived notions of who she was, what she wanted and what she would do when the right guy came along.
He’d been her first lover.
They’d shared an amazing holiday season. But after that one Christmas, they had never seen each other again. Until now.
“Hello, Ross,” she murmured, wondering when her life had become a comedy movie. Because wasn’t this always the way those things opened? The plucky, unlucky-in-love heroine coming face-to-face with the one guy she’d never been able to forget while dressed in a ridiculous costume? It was right out of central casting 101—what else could she be wearing other than a short green dress with bells and holly on the collar, red-and-white striped hose, pointy-toed shoes and the dippy green hat with the droopy feather? The only thing that could make the scene more perfect was if she’d been draped across the grouchy Santa’s lap, trying to evade his gropey hands, when the handsome hero came up to rescue her.
Her heart twisted, as it always did when she thought about that…The way Ross had been there for her in what could have been a horrible moment. Whatever had happened later—however much she resented him now—she would never forget that he’d been there to keep her from getting hurt.
But that had been a long time ago. She was no longer that girl and she no longer needed any man’s rescue.
“It’s really you,” he murmured.
“In the flesh.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“That makes two of us,” she admitted.
Her brain scrambled to find more words, to form thoughts or sentences. But she just couldn’t. If she’d woken up this morning to find her bed had floated up into the sky on a giant helium balloon, she couldn’t have been more surprised than she was right now.
Or more disturbed.
Because she wasn’t supposed to see him again. Wasn’t supposed to care again. Wasn’t supposed to even think of getting hurt by him again.
She’d played this scene once, and at exactly this time of year. No way was she ready for a repeat.
She knew all that, knew it down to her soul. So why, oh why, was her heart singing? Crazy expression that, but it was true. There was music in her head and brightness in her eyes and a smile fought to emerge on her lips.
Because it was Ross. The guy she’d met
At Christmastime.
HMM. DECISIONS, decisions.
Lucy honestly wasn’t sure what would be the best tool for the job. After all, it wasn’t every day she was faced with a project of this magnitude. As a photography student at NYU, she usually spent more time worrying about creating things rather than hacking them up.
Big knife? No, she might not get the right angle and could end up cutting herself.
Scissors? Probably not strong enough to cut through
Razor? She doubted her Venus was up to the task, and had no idea how to get one of those old-fashioned straightedged ones short of robbing a barber.
A chainsaw or a hatchet?
Probably overkill. And killing wasn’t the objective.
After all, she didn’t really want to kill Jude Zacharias. She just wanted to separate him from his favorite part of his cheating anatomy. AKA: the part he’d cheated with.
Lucy didn’t even realize she’d been mumbling aloud. Not until her best friend, Kate, who sat across from her in this trendy Manhattan coffee-and-book shop interjected, “You’re not going to cut off his dick, so stop fantasizing about it.”
Nobody immediately gasped at Kate’s words, so obviously they hadn’t been overheard. Not surprising—they were tucked in a back corner of the café. Plus, Beans & Books was crowded with shoppers frenzied by the realization that they only had one and a half shopping days left before Christmas. Each was listening only to the holiday countdown clock in his or her head.
“Have
“Hey,
It wasn’t Jude’s ass she wanted to…Bobbit. She knew, however, that Kate was right. Lucy wasn’t the violent type, except in her fantasies. She might have fun playing a mental game of
“Can’t I at least wallow and scheme for an hour?”
“Sure. But we should’ve done it over beer or tequila in a dive bar. Coffee in a crowded shop just doesn’t lend itself to wallowing and scheming.”
True. Especially now that this place was no longer the same quiet, cozy hangout she’d loved since coming to New York three and a half years ago. It had once been her favorite place to meet up with friends, do some homework, or just enjoy the silence amid the scent of freshly ground arabica beans.
Since a recent renovation, though, it had turned from a cute, off-the-beaten-track coffee bar into a crazed, credit-card magnet, filled with overpriced gift books, calendars and stationery. Driven city dwellers who excelled at multitasking were flocking to the place to kill two birds with one stone. They could buy a last minute gift for Great-Aunt Susie—a ridiculously overpriced coffee table book titled
Christmas had been reduced to expedience, kitsch and trendy drinks. Fortunately for her, she’d dropped out of the holiday a few years ago and had no intention of dropping back in.
“Face it, girlfriend, revenge just ain’t your style. You’re as violent as a Smurf.” Kate grinned. “Or one of Santa’s elves.”
“Not funny,” Lucy said, rolling her eyes. “
Her friend knew how much she disliked the silly costume she had to wear for her “internship” with a local photographer. Intern? Ha. She was a ridiculously dressed
That girl shouldn’t care about Jude. That girl
But at this moment, Lucy didn’t feel like that girl. For all the violent fantasies, what
“You know, for the life of me, I still can’t figure out why I ever went out with him in the first place.” She swallowed, hard. “I should have known better.”
Kate’s smirk faded and she reached over to squeeze Lucy’s hand. Kate had been witness to what had been Lucy’s most humiliating moment ever. Said moment being when Lucy had let herself in to her boyfriend Jude’s apartment, to set up his big surprise birthday party that was scheduled for tonight.
Jude had already gotten started on his birthday celebration. Contrary to his claim that he was going to “pop in” on his family for the day, Jude had apparently decided to stay in town and pop in on his neighbor’s vagina.
At least, that’s who Lucy thought had been kneeling in front of the sofa with Jude’s johnson in her mouth when she and Kate had walked into the apartment. She couldn’t be certain. They only saw the back of the bare-ass naked woman’s head—oh, plus her bare ass and, uh, the rest of her nether regions.
“Maybe I should ask Teddy to beat him up.”
Teddy, Kate’s boyfriend, was as broad as a table, and could snap Jude like a twig. There was just one problem. “He’s more of a pacifist than I am,” Lucy said with a smile, knowing Kate had intended to make her laugh. Teddy was the sweetest guy on the planet. “Besides, we both know Jude’s not worth the trouble.”
“No, he’s not.” Then Kate grinned. “I am glad you got off a couple of good zingers, though. I still can’t believe you asked him if the store was out of birthday candles and that’s why he’d found something else that needed to be blown.”
That, she had to admit, had been a pretty good line. It was a rare occurrence; the kind of one-liner she usually would have thought of hours later, when reliving the awful experience in her mind. Though, in this instance, since she was now feeling more sad than anything else, she might have been picturing herself asking him why he’d felt the need to be so deceitful.