A Grumpy Christmas Read online

  “Give me a minute. I don’t want to move quite yet.”

  “Take your time.”

  The omega looked at me as I sat on the ground before his eyes drifted over to the wheelchair several feet away. “How did you? I mean… what did you do? Fly?”

  “No, I hopped. I can hop pretty well on one leg if I’m motivated. Seeing you on the ground was a lot of motivation.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. I’m glad you’re okay. It could have been much worse.”

  I looked into Max’s eyes, saw the pain there, and I wanted to take it all away. It was a dangerous thought, taking Max’s pain as mine. He already meant so much more to me than I expected. Before I even knew what I was doing, my lips were covering his. Soft. Warm. Max’s mouth clung to mine as I tasted him for the first time. My tongue dipped out to trace his lips. They parted, letting me sink in to explore his depths.

  His tongue dueled with mine, never wavering or giving in. Max was as much a part of the kiss as I was, showing an enthusiasm which left me breathless. He tasted of dark rich chocolate with a hint of mint.

  Lifting my head, I watched the dazed look in Max’s eyes as a smile crept over his lips. “Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever had a kiss quite like that before.”

  “No, I don’t believe I have either.” I shook my head at the thought. Kissing Max was different than kissing Grant. Not better or worse, just different. There was the same fire in this kiss with Max and that scared me. I never thought I’d have feelings for anyone other than Grant.

  Faced with Max, I had to wonder if he might possibly have been our third if we’d found him before Grant had died. It was something we’d both considered, but the timing had never been right. We hadn’t met the right person. Looking into Max’s warm eyes, the thought that raced through my mind was that Grant had missed meeting Max. That thought made my chest hurt, not for what I was experiencing, but that I was experiencing it without Grant by my side. He would have loved Max.

  Taking a breath, I helped Max up before getting my own butt off the ground. I was reasonably adept at getting up and down under my own steam. I’d had a long time to practice. Keeping my balance, I watched Max stand and check out each body part that ached. It was a relief as he put his full weight down on each leg, flexing his arms, and wriggling his fingers.

  “Nothing broken. Just winded, I guess. The breathing is getting easier, too, so I think I’m good.” He looked up at the corner of the house where the lights still hung one bracket short. “I think for now I’ll leave that. It shouldn’t hurt anything. Shall we plug them in and see if they work?”

  “Why not. Let’s see what all your hard work looks like.” Laughing, I hopped over to my chair as Max went to the outdoor outlet to plug in the lights. As I settled in and looked up, red and green lights burned bright. After a moment, their flashing sequence began. They weren’t nearly as bright as the smile on Max’s lips as he turned to look at me. That smile sank into me, warming a place I thought I’d buried long ago, waking up a part of me I wasn’t sure I was ready to acknowledge.

  I could almost hear Grant’s encouraging voice in my head, telling me I’d be a fool to pass up the chance to find love again. It wasn’t something I was ready to face so, like a coward, I turned my chair around and wheeled myself back to my house while Max’s attention refocused on the lights he’d strung.

  Chapter Eight

  Max

  As the days counted down toward Christmas, my days were spent as a mad rush to finish up projects for clients. December was always a great bump to my income as a content writer. Blogs, magazines, and companies were always trying to entice more readership or sell more products this time of the year with holiday themed content. I’d finished twelve articles and four blog posts in the past two weeks alone. My paycheck this month was going to pay my mortgage for the next three months. Easy.

  I typed the last sentence of my current project and mailed it off for approval, crossing off the last thing on my list that needed to be completed this week. The next two days would be a time filled massive baking. I’d stocked up the week before on flour, eggs, four different kinds of sugar, and a variety of chocolate and candies. I opened the folder with my game plan on the computer, printing the large PDF of recipes I’d decided to tackle. Some recipes were old favorites, others were interesting bits of sweetness I couldn’t resist trying out. Considering it was just me, I was probably going a little overboard.

  There were worse things than having a house filled with sweets. Though most wouldn’t be staying with me as I had a list of relatives I always sent baked goods off to each year. My uncle Herman was getting up there in years. He always appreciated the old-fashioned gingersnaps I sent him every year, swearing they reminded him of the ones his mother used to make. The compliment always made me proud since it was Grandmother Mag’s recipe I always used. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind the fact I was woefully behind schedule in my cookie baking efforts this year. Even with expedited shipping, the cookies might not make it to their intended targets before the big day.

  My aunt Lidia couldn’t stand over a hot stove anymore so she always appreciated the box of cookies I sent her as well. She used them to emphasize her complaints each year that none of her kids had inherited her baking gene. The flurry of phone calls I received each year from my cousins as they teased me with good-natured ribbing was the highlight of my holiday season. It was a time to laugh and chat and try to one-up each other in garnering the attention of our older relatives. Despite the distance that now separated us, I knew we’d always remain close. They were good people, and I loved them all. Sending them a small part of me filled me with a joy I couldn’t explain. I only knew I’d bake until I couldn’t bake anymore and then take the boxes to the post office to send off to their intended recipients, all the while hoping they managed to get there intact.

  Hours later, the scent of molasses and ginger filled the air. Hints of brown sugar and cinnamon faded as the aroma from the gingersnaps overpowered the snickerdoodles. The aroma of chocolate filled the air when I opened the oven door, removing the tray of chocolate shortbread cookies. I was in my element as one cookie after another was baked, my counters lined with sweet treats. Some cooled, ready to box up, others were still warm on their cooling racks. The tray of chocolate shortbread filled an empty slot as I placed another tray in the oven and set the timer. Happy with the results of my first day in baking mode, I filled a plastic container with a sampling of the cookies I’d mad that day. It was still a week before Christmas, but I wanted to share the cookies with Pierce.

  I hadn’t seen Pierce since the day I’d taken a header off the ladder. Remembering his kiss which had rocked my world, the smile which played on my lips was becoming a constant companion. I couldn’t help myself. Yeah, the alpha had high-tailed it out of there. Most omegas would probably take that as a sign the man hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. Not me. I’d seen the hesitation in his eyes, that brief flash as he’d bent his lips to mine. The man was wary. I didn’t know why, but I knew he wanted me. I’d be a fool to give up the chance to get to know that alpha better. He made me feel things inside me I’d never experienced with just a look.

  He was what my grandma had always called broody, a pain-filled soul. I wanted to take the hurt away and show him he was still worthy of love. For now, I’d settle for bribing him with cookies. The way to a man’s heart and all that. I’d settle for it being the key to this one alpha’s world. I hoped it was enough for the man to let me in.

  Knocking on the door, the sound of a bluesy female voice drifted through the open window. She sounded familiar, the raspy tones reminiscent of New Orleans and the time I got drunk off my ass in the French Quarter my sophomore year. The man had good taste in music. I very much approved. When my knock went unanswered, I tried again, the door falling open as my knuckles rapped on it once more.

  Hesitantly, I pushed it open, popping my head around the door as I looked for Pierce. Even thoug
h I knew I shouldn’t, I walked in. The unmistakable beat of a jump rope hitting the floor hit my ears, causing me to turn in that direction. As I walked through the house, the music changed, the beat faster as a male voice filled the air.

  I found Pierce in a backroom which had been turned into a small home gym. He mesmerized me as I watched him jump rope on one leg better than I could on two, sweat dripping off his very naked muscular chest. He must have jumped the rope a hundred times before he stopped and sank onto the bench, picking up a towel to mop up the sweat. I wanted nothing more than to walk over and rub my hands all over his glistening skin. I wanted his scent all over me in ways I’d never wanted from any other alpha before.

  “Are you just going to stand there and stare or say hello?”

  Chapter Nine

  Pierce

  I’d known he was in my space from the moment he stepped into the room. It was like my whole world centered around this omega. Some instinct deep inside me I’d only ever felt with Grant had taken over, making me super sensitive to the omega standing at the door watching me like I was his whole world. God help me, I wanted him to be my world. I’d forgotten what it was like to have an omega look at me like I was someone important, someone to care for and cherish.

  “I, uh…” Max trailed off, unsure of himself. He held out a plastic container. “Uh, cookies. I brought you cookies.” The stutter was cute. Adorable even, making me smile. “I’ll just put it in the kitchen and be out of your way.”

  He turned to go. I should let him leave, but the idea of him walking away unsettled me.

  “Wait.” The omega hesitated in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at me with a wary, uncertain look. “I like cookies. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any homemade. It’d be unneighborly if I didn’t offer to make us some coffee or something so I can sample them.”

  Moving to my chair, I wheeled past Max and led the way to the kitchen. It didn’t take long before we were settled at the kitchen table, a plate filled with a selection of cookies from Max’s container and mugs of steaming hot cocoa when he revealed he hated coffee. Since I wasn’t much of a coffee drinker either, hot cocoa suited me fine.

  A few of the cookies weren’t familiar to me. Neither Grant nor I had ever been much of a baker. Craig had a few store-bought cookies he favored. If we wanted a special treat, we went to the bakery in downtown Sugar Beach. The omega who ran the place was a genius when it came to desserts.

  Sinking my teeth into the crispy cookies dusted in a cinnamon sugar coating, I couldn’t help the moan which escaped me at the first taste. The baker in town could possibly have a run for his money if Max ever decided to open up shop. After that first crunch, the cookie melted away, leaving a sweet spicy taste in my mouth that only wanted more.

  “It’s a crispy Snickerdoodle. I found the recipe on the internet. The classic snickerdoodle is chewy, but I like these better.” Max blushed adorably as he let his words trail off.

  “They’re good. I don’t think I’ve ever had these kind before.”

  “What’s your favorite cookie?”

  “Hmmm, I’m not sure if I have one.” I paused, leaning back in my chair to think. I’d never had a sweet tooth. I tended to gravitate toward the salty snacks when I went shopping. “My great-omegin had a recipe for potato chip cookies I adored when I was a kid. I couldn’t get enough of them. I loved potato chips, but I never managed to eat the whole bag when I went to visit him. He made these crispy little cookies with the leftover chips and added chunks of chocolate and walnuts. Those cookies were pretty amazing. They were the only cookies I can ever remember requesting whenever I went to visit.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing,” Max said, shaking his head as his brow wrinkled adorably. Everything about this omega was adorable. “I’ll see if I can find a recipe. It sounds… intriguing?”

  I laughed outright at the consternation on his face. No, Max thought they were disgusting, not intriguing. “Wait until you try them before passing judgment, Max. They might surprise you.”

  The omega shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. “I can do that. It could be better than I think they sound.”

  Nodding, I picked up my mug, taking a deep swallow of the still warm liquid, grabbing another cookie from the plate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent such a relaxed afternoon with another man. Probably not since my mate had died. It was cathartic in a way I couldn’t explain, even to myself.

  When the cookies were gone and the mugs were empty, Max helped clean up. I didn’t want him to leave so I did the bravest thing I’d done in a long time. I asked him to stay. We spent the afternoon sitting on the couch, talking about nothing and everything. The chat gave me an insight into an omega who lived by his own terms. He was braver than I was at the moment, taking his life by the horns and doing his own thing, moving so far from all the family he’s ever known.

  When Max finally retreated to his own home next door, he took with him my admiration and another piece of my heart. I had a decision to make. Did I accept the feelings he stirred inside me? Or did I push him away and retreat back into how things were before he barreled into my life? Something told me it was way too late to retreat. I was well and surely hooked by a brave little omega who baked like a dream.

  Chapter Ten

  Max

  Researching potato chip cookies was a world I’d never dropped into before. I loved research and digging into the world of vintage baking was a pleasure I enjoyed more than some. Okay, I was weird. I easily admitted that. It was probably the researcher in me. Digging into the history of a recipe sent me to my happy spot. Potato chip cookies gained popularity in the 1950s, with families each having their own take on the sweet and salty treat. Even the popular chip companies back in the day had recipes for the cookie in ads and on chip bags. Who knew?

  Not knowing how Pierce’s great-omegin made his cookies, I decided to test bake several of the more popular ones. In the end, I had a great content article which sold to a food blog and a kitchen filled with four different types of potato chip cookies. So far, I had a clear favorite, a buttery salty cookie made with ridged potato chips, chocolate chips, and chopped pecans. Never having been a fan of the crispy potato disks, the cookies were better than I had expected them to be.

  Not wanting to invade Pierce’s home again on such a thin pretense as cookies, I packaged each set of cookies in separate containers with the recipe taped to the top. Christmas was the next day and the cookies would keep. I still had cinnamon rolls to make so they’d be ready to pop into the oven the next morning. I’d leave them in the refrigerator overnight for their final proof and pull them out in the morning. They’d proof even more as the oven preheated and the rolls came to room temperature. It wasn’t my first solo Christmas, just my first one in Florida. If I ran into trouble, my mom was only a phone call away, ready and willing to dispense advice to any of her kids as we attempted to stick with family traditions. Just thinking of the sweet cinnamon syrup which would soak into the rolls with the cream cheese frosting was enough to set my mouth watering.

  Christmas Eve was a busy day of cooking, cleaning, and wrapping of presents I couldn’t resist getting for my grumpy, sexy neighbor. It was probably over the top, but I had a good feeling about him. The older alpha did things to me I couldn’t explain, but I liked it. I liked it very much. It didn’t even matter he hadn’t said for sure he’d be here. I was excited at the possibility.

  The fear it was all in my head and Pierce wouldn’t show tried to throw me into a tailspin, but I pushed those dark thoughts back. Positive thinking became my mantra. After that kiss, that sweet, wonderful, gentle, earth-shattering kiss we shared, Pierce had to be just as affected by whatever was between us as I was. If not, I might as well pack it up and move back to New York with my tail between my legs because I wouldn’t be able to stay next door to the man of my dreams. Which he was. I might not have known it before I met him, but I knew it now.

  Pushing away
any negative thoughts, I cleaned the disaster created in my kitchen from a day filled with too much baking. I might have gone overboard. It was a good thing most of it would freeze well should the worst happen and Pierce was a no-show.

  It didn’t take long to set the kitchen to rights. Even though it was still early, I roamed the house, turning off lights, shutting and locking windows. Sugar Beach might be a safe town, but I’d grown up in an area where one didn’t leave windows wide open at night even if the cooler air helped wash away the stuffiness of a closed up house.

  It was too cool for the air conditioner to kick on so I switched it over to heat and set the temperature I wished to activate it while I slept. Waking up to a freezing house was a possibility, even in Florida. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. Hopefully, an exciting day. It all depended on if a certain grumpy alpha decided to make nice and visit an overeager omega. I hoped I wasn’t setting myself up for a big fall.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pierce

  The days in December fell away one by one until the day I dreaded each year was suddenly in front of me. It was Christmas Eve, the day my son was born. Somehow, this day was worse even than the anniversary of his death. It hurt facing all the memories of how happy I’d been that day, looking forward to a future that had been taken away in an instant. I’d never see the day I sat down with my son to talk about the birds and the bees and the differences between alphas and omegas. At only ten years old, he hadn’t yet presented as one or the other. Though Grant and I were sure he was going to be an alpha like me. He had all the signs.

  As the day passed, I did what I usually did on this day. I remembered my son, watching home videos, listening to his voice as he went from babbling toddler to a mature little boy who was full of questions. God, I missed answering those questions now.