brought you an Alka-Seltzer Plus. It’ll settle your stomach, and help with your stuffy nose. It’s a little pink this morning.”
Rudy rubbed his itchy nose with a tissue she gave him from the tray. The tissue felt soothing against his sore nose, just what he needed.
She held out two aspirin, along with a glass of fizzing relief.
“Thanks,” Rudy told her as he reached for his cure, popped both pills then eagerly drained the glass.
Everything he needed for hangover survival was on the tray, including a dish of assorted cookies from his grandfather’s bakery, not that he could possibly eat a cookie at this point.
“That was some reunion you guys had,” the mystery girl said, getting all comfy at the foot of the bed, then sliding her long legs under his blanket.
He remembered now. His gram had taken up needlepoint when he was growing up, and the bed was testament to her obsession. There were at least a dozen pillows scattered around in various sizes and shapes, all with a Christmas theme. They were enough to make him dizzy, and combined with the unusually warm weather in this town, the attic seemed hot.
Or was it the girl that was making him hot?
Especially now when she rested those fine legs of hers against his as if they were lovers, only he couldn’t feel skin on skin. Unfortunately, he still wore his black slacks and heavy wool socks. No possibility of sex with all those clothes on, but why so familiar on her part? He couldn’t figure her out.
“I seem to be lacking some of the details of last night. Maybe you could fill me in.”
She chuckled. “Understandable, especially since you kept drinking those really sweet Christmas Bombs that Carol pushes this time of year.”
“Carol?”
“Carol Winters, the Bartender over at Yule Tide’s. You went to school with Carol, remember?”
A bright pink fizzy drink in a tall glass garnished with a candy cane now took center stage in his memory, along with Carol’s charming face.
“Yeah. She was wearing one of those Santa hats.”
“Yep, we all were.” She nodded toward the coat hooks on the wall next to the stairs, and there hung two Santa hats along with coats, scarves, her jeans and white sweater.
That’s when it came to him. “Jenny Bells! You’re Jenny Bells from Donner Street. You were my very first kiss.”
“Good grief, how bad off are you?”
He chuckled, careful of any actual movement. “Apparently, pretty bad.” Then he stared at her for a moment as last night began to come into focus. “You were there, along with Kris and Nick, and some guy who looked a lot like the real Santa or was that a dream?”
“I don’t remember the Santa guy, but Kris and Nick were absolutely there. I came in at midnight with a plate of your grandfather’s cookies which you all devoured. Carol told me you kept buying rounds, and everybody kept drinking. I’m sure the guys are feeling just as bad as you do this morning.”
“Why aren’t you dying like the rest of us?”
“Somebody had to be the adult. After just one of those Christmas Bombs, I knew you three guys would never make it home if I didn’t drive. Besides, I’ve been living here in this attic ever since my apartment building went into foreclosure, so any way I can help out your grandfather, or his grandson, seemed like the right thing to do.”
“You live here?” He looked around at the long, narrow room and could tell she had transformed half of it into a livable, feminine space, but still . . . “Why the hell would you live here?”
She shrugged. “Your grandfather needed some help in the bakery and around the house after your gram passed. I needed a place to live. It just made sense. He won’t let me pay rent, so I try to do the things he can’t.”
“I’m sure Gramps loves having you around, but doesn’t your day job get in the way?”
“Helping your grandfather is my day job. He’s teaching me how to bake Santa’s favorite cookie, or at least that’s the plan. We
Rudy rubbed his itchy nose with a tissue she gave him from the tray. The tissue felt soothing against his sore nose, just what he needed.
She held out two aspirin, along with a glass of fizzing relief.
“Thanks,” Rudy told her as he reached for his cure, popped both pills then eagerly drained the glass.
Everything he needed for hangover survival was on the tray, including a dish of assorted cookies from his grandfather’s bakery, not that he could possibly eat a cookie at this point.
“That was some reunion you guys had,” the mystery girl said, getting all comfy at the foot of the bed, then sliding her long legs under his blanket.
He remembered now. His gram had taken up needlepoint when he was growing up, and the bed was testament to her obsession. There were at least a dozen pillows scattered around in various sizes and shapes, all with a Christmas theme. They were enough to make him dizzy, and combined with the unusually warm weather in this town, the attic seemed hot.
Or was it the girl that was making him hot?
Especially now when she rested those fine legs of hers against his as if they were lovers, only he couldn’t feel skin on skin. Unfortunately, he still wore his black slacks and heavy wool socks. No possibility of sex with all those clothes on, but why so familiar on her part? He couldn’t figure her out.
“I seem to be lacking some of the details of last night. Maybe you could fill me in.”
She chuckled. “Understandable, especially since you kept drinking those really sweet Christmas Bombs that Carol pushes this time of year.”
“Carol?”
“Carol Winters, the Bartender over at Yule Tide’s. You went to school with Carol, remember?”
A bright pink fizzy drink in a tall glass garnished with a candy cane now took center stage in his memory, along with Carol’s charming face.
“Yeah. She was wearing one of those Santa hats.”
“Yep, we all were.” She nodded toward the coat hooks on the wall next to the stairs, and there hung two Santa hats along with coats, scarves, her jeans and white sweater.
That’s when it came to him. “Jenny Bells! You’re Jenny Bells from Donner Street. You were my very first kiss.”
“Good grief, how bad off are you?”
He chuckled, careful of any actual movement. “Apparently, pretty bad.” Then he stared at her for a moment as last night began to come into focus. “You were there, along with Kris and Nick, and some guy who looked a lot like the real Santa or was that a dream?”
“I don’t remember the Santa guy, but Kris and Nick were absolutely there. I came in at midnight with a plate of your grandfather’s cookies which you all devoured. Carol told me you kept buying rounds, and everybody kept drinking. I’m sure the guys are feeling just as bad as you do this morning.”
“Why aren’t you dying like the rest of us?”
“Somebody had to be the adult. After just one of those Christmas Bombs, I knew you three guys would never make it home if I didn’t drive. Besides, I’ve been living here in this attic ever since my apartment building went into foreclosure, so any way I can help out your grandfather, or his grandson, seemed like the right thing to do.”
“You live here?” He looked around at the long, narrow room and could tell she had transformed half of it into a livable, feminine space, but still . . . “Why the hell would you live here?”
She shrugged. “Your grandfather needed some help in the bakery and around the house after your gram passed. I needed a place to live. It just made sense. He won’t let me pay rent, so I try to do the things he can’t.”
“I’m sure Gramps loves having you around, but doesn’t your day job get in the way?”
“Helping your grandfather is my day job. He’s teaching me how to bake Santa’s favorite cookie, or at least that’s the plan. We
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