The Holiday Mixtape, page 13
“I didn’t contribute to his idea, only a piece for him to auction off, which the entire town was asked to do. It’s like a great big ole’ white elephant gift you bring to bid on. Get it? You’re supposed to bring something too, Scrooge.”
“Okay. Now I’m offended. All the work I’ve aided and abetted you in, and you call me a Scrooge?”
“Get over yourself, Jack Frost. What are you going to do this time, really turn the car around or start charging me for gas? Just don’t forget I already offered.”
“You’re a real piece of work, Erika with a K. How long does that monstrosity stay back there?”
“So competitive. Maybe more Christmas competitions are what Blitzen needs to make money. Who knew? We’re dropping it by on the way back when we’re done. I already confirmed when he called.”
“He called you?”
I look away from Kourt’s antics when the most gorgeous venue I’ve ever seen surfaces on the hilltop. “This must be Blitzen Manor.”
“In the flesh—well, brick and mortar and obnoxious columns.” Kourt smirks at himself. “Why are we here again?”
“Let me find the picture.” I reach for my phone to show him.
“Not that picture. Don’t tell me we’ve wasted another precious evening.”
“What are you talking about? I made arrangements with the grandson to walk the grounds. They’ve left me a key.”
“Let me guess, Chicago. Some idiot showed you Blitzen’s proverbial Old-Fashioned Christmas claim to fame spelled out in black and white with young couples ice skating on a frozen golden pond with children sledding down the hill of the Blitzen Manor in the background, and you thought that would get you an ice skating rink.”
“No. I’m not that stupid. I know you can’t count on the weather or the lake freezing over.”
“Well, they certainly could that one day circa 1937.” Kourt continues to mock me.
“Look. It’s a beautiful venue, ice skating or not. It’s only half a mile from town, there are acres for parking on one side, and the vendors’ booths could surround the lake. Select activities will be so picturesque out here.”
“What’s wrong with town square, where we held it for decades after that photo?”
“June.”
He takes a deep breath. “Ah. I see. She said, ‘No’?”
“Not in so many words, but I felt compelled to find an alternative. She acted like parking would be a nightmare.”
“And it will be. But it was every year. This year we’ll get paid for the headache of orchestrating it. June may give you a hard time up front, but she’ll be the first one there when you need her. Just ask her for what you need.”
“Yeah, but look at this place. You don’t think it will draw in a crowd?” I climb out of his truck and take it all in. Kourt slaps his door shut with one hand and squints up at the vintage mansion. “It’ll bring something in.”
I grab the set of keys left in the coded box and open the gate to the grounds. I only got permission to tour outside.
“The thing is—” Kourt extends his hand pushing open the gate I unlocked. “This place isn’t really Blitzen.”
“Are you telling me Blitzen Manor isn’t Blitzen?”
Kourt struggles with his response. He sounds oddly sincere. Maybe that’s his real struggle. “The original owners were obviously named Blitzen and that’s how we got our start, but they weren’t what made the town. They were more than well-off and represented old money that wasn’t easily shared. Let’s just say they weren’t very generous being on the have end of the haves and have-nots.”
“Oh.” I try not to gasp as we step out onto the grounds that open their arms to the most beautiful private lake I’ve ever seen.
“Look, I know you may have been met with some disillusionment and a few disgruntled old folks—”
“Old?” I raise an eyebrow at Kourt, suggesting he’s included in that bunch.
“Fair enough, but in Blitzen we take care of each other. What matters to us tends to matter a lot, and it’s not over-priced venues that no one in town’s allowed in. I’m guessing Gregg didn’t offer to let you tour the inside.”
“Well, I got the impression there would be a fee to rent or secure it so...” I trip over my own foot as I step down looking up at him. I’m trying to listen to him, but he’s being genuine and I’m not sure how to read his face. Apparently, my solution is to fall down in front of his feet.
“You alright there?” There’s a flirtatious glint in his eye that suggests he’s enjoying this. His, ‘I’m better at being an ass’ charm is back as he plows on. “Like I said, they aren’t exactly our Blitzen.”
Kourt takes my elbow and leads me down the hill I was so desperate to see. I feel his fingertips press gently on my funny bone and I almost giggle as goose bumps trail up that arm and I shiver.
“You cold already?” He looks down as he surveys me, stepping away and toward the walkway that encircles the lake.
“Yeah. What—did the temperature already drop ten degrees?”
“It does tend to do that here, but not enough to freeze your lake for skating.”
“Are you ever going to acknowledge that I didn’t, for one second, think we could rely on that? I didn’t know it wouldn’t be an option at all, but I absolutely did not intend to count on a frozen lake through December for an Old-Fashioned Christmas.”
We walk closer to said lake, and it looks like we’re standing where the picture was taken.
“Yes, you did.” Kourt beams at me patronizingly. “It’s okay. It’s cute, until someone falls in. Look around Erika. Don’t you think having vendors and holiday festivities set up here is a huge liability for Blitzen?”
“I told you. I don’t intend for anyone to try and skate, not even if it does freeze solid.”
God he’s irritating. He goes from sincere to the most shamefully infuriating person I’ve ever met in seconds. That’s saying a lot, considering I’m best friends with the most trying person in Chicago.
Dogs bark in the distance somewhere behind us, but we’re apparently too busy facing off to care what they may be after.
Kourt takes a step closer to me as if he’s intentionally trying to get in my face to prove his point. “What’s worse than a lake that’s not frozen in winter, Erika?”
“I don’t know, Kourt? What does that have to do with anything when we’re not using the lake?”
And why am I yelling at this man?
“A lake that’s half frozen.” Now Kourt’s yelling back. “That’s what’s worse, and that will happen at some point this December. That you can count on. All the little sleds you have dreams of kids renting to slide down the hill—what happens when a mom turns her head to dig in her purse for change for hot chocolate, and little Cameron decides to slide his or her sled across what they think is a frozen half of the lake?”
Dogs are barking to a deafening degree in the background.
I yell back even louder, to be heard over their approaching barks. “Little Cameron? Who the hell is Cameron?” I’m standing on my tiptoes to get back in his face. “I told you Kourt, no one is skating or sledding across this pond, so no one is falling in the lake!”
A gunshot fires in the background and three bluetick hounds halt a hair away from us. I step back, not thinking, and my foot leaves solid ground. I feel Kourt’s arm around the back of my waist as I’m jolted forward.
“Care to repeat that?” Kourt raises his eyebrows as I wiggle out of his grasp and take two steps toward the dogs, and away from the lake I nearly fell into. More barking issues from the grounds of the home next door, as the owner of the shotgun emerges about a hundred yards away from us. She’s carrying the large gun and wearing a familiar velvet blazer, only this time it’s red.
I recognize the beautiful black woman from the town meeting. She sat on the right, and I thought she was on my side until she snubbed me. Awesome.
“Is that you Kourt?” The woman’s voice carries across both massive yards.
“Yes, Angelina.” Kourt waves at her. “I was just showing Erika Blitzen Manor.”
“Showing me? I’m the one who organized this.” I whisper-shout up to him.
Kourt doesn’t even flinch, still smiling and waving like he’s on a parade float. The jackass.
“Sorry about that! Guess they thought they saw a duck.” The attractive woman with the demanding presence, who hates my ideas, waves at us and heads back inside with her red blazer and shotgun.
“Judge Angelina Pritchard. She lives next door and raises—”
“Hounds?” I interject staring at the two wagging their tales in front of us.
“And, pointers, and setters, but who’s counting.”
“She looks like she’s ready to go on a fox hunt herself.”
“That’s only on the weekend.” Kourt chuckles and I roll my eyes, continuing my walk around the lake. He takes a half stride to catch up to me. “I’m not trying to say I told you so or get you to admit you wasted our time—”
“Wasted our time?” I pivot to him with fire in my eyes.
“Yeah. Absolutely,” he snaps back.
“And I suppose your whole angle is ‘let her see for herself or dig her own grave or—”
Barking ensues behind us again. It’s louder and sounds like there are more dogs, but no gunshot this time, so we don’t bother looking up. Kourt doesn’t move from his glare he’s locked down onto me.
I go to open my mouth and he opens his first. “Erika. I’m not trying to make this harder for you. I want you to get to do it your way. I want you to have your ideal Christmas you told me about. Hell, I carted you down here when you asked because I thought you might know something I don’t. You’re so fucking smart and it’s damn impressive what you’ve done in less than three days.”
The barking becomes a cacophony of ten or fifteen dogs now. “I just think you’re also so fucking stubborn, and you won’t let anyone help you or tell you anything, and it’s not even your town.” Kourt screams his hurtful comment over the barking.
His face is so close to mine I have the urge to reach up and bite him.
“I listen to everything you say, and I heard the part about this not being my town loud and clear.” My voice comes out strained, I’m yelling so loud.
“Of course, you only heard that part, and if you truly listen to everything I say, then why do you do the damn opposite every time?” Kourt grabs the bottom of my chin tightly and something rises fiercely inside me.
My heart pounds and my cheeks burn.
The barking is so loud beside us I almost turn to look, but then I hear the duck.
We both must, as Kourt and I lift our eyes from our second face-off of the evening to see a mallard flying across the lake.
Our next look in unison is toward the dogs approaching us at record speed as they tackle, trample and knock us off the path into the deepest, coldest part of the unfrozen lake.
A massive splash, tangled legs in the water, and gasping for air ensues as Kourt hoists me up onto the path with him. The howl from a coonhound or two later… we are teeth chattering, locking the gate and dripping back to the truck.
No one says I told you so because our lips are blue and frozen to our trembling teeth. Kourt reaches in to start the engine and turn the heat on, then moves to the cab of his truck bed and pulls out an old camping blanket.
I shake so hard at the door handle I fear my hand is frozen to it. I try to unlock it when I see Kourt shake his frozen head at me in a death glare.
“Uh-uh. Take off your clothes.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” My voice cracks as the words shake out of my shivering body.
“There’s no point in a blanket if it’s as soaked from our clothes as we are. You want to get warm? You’ll shed the clothes before you get in the truck. Shoes and socks too.”
Okay. He’s not wrong. Driving back to Josie’s in clothes as wet and cold as that lake isn’t ideal, and assuming he’s gentlemen enough to give me the blanket…
Fish sticks-my life, The Blitzen-fucking manor.
I don’t respond with words, only shivers as I stare back at him from over the truck bed wondering if my face is as purple as it feels. I shuck off my jacket, sweater and pants like a good girl, eyes still locked on him with savage anger, but confident as my body is covered by the truck.
Kourt removes his shirt and, my God, if he doesn’t have bronzed skin in the winter, and not in the creepy tanning bed, body builder way. In the… ‘my skin just does this to highlight my natural six pack’ kind of way. He leans forward to pull his jeans off, but changes his mind, and for a split second I forget I’m standing in front of Blitzen Manor in my bra and panties.
“I don’t know why you’re staring at me like you’re mad, or I got you into this.” Kourt barks as he rebuttons his jeans.
“I wasn’t staring. I just froze to death for a second.”
Kourt’s eyes haven’t left mine, and I watch him stifle his amusement. Then his dark hazels drift down my neck to my shoulders, darting between my baby blue bra straps.
“I’d shed it all if I were you. At this point, being dry is more important than getting under the heater.”
“I’m not getting naked under a blanket with you for any length of a car ride,” I announce through trembles I no longer feel, as my body has gone numb. If the lights hadn’t gone out at the house next door, I’d have no qualms about racing over to the judge’s house in my matching bra and panty set, bare feet, and blue lips.
What have I got to lose? The judge already expresses disdain for me. Can’t be worse than getting naked with Kourt.
“What was that you told Carol—there’s nothing to be modest about when it comes to your safety.”
“Then give me the blanket.”
Kourt throws the blanket across the truck at me. I take a half step back as the heavy, full-size blanket hits me like a fluffy brick. “I’m not modest. I just have a preference in who I get naked next to.”
“I typically find I’m preferable to most women I encounter.”
“Lucky for us both you have not encountered me.”
“Is that an invitation?” Kourt renders under his breath, almost inaudible.
“What did you say?”
“I meant there’s a joke in there somewhere, but the reality of it while I’m literally watching you peel your wet clothes off in front of me is—”
“Stop watching, Kourt!” I tighten the blanket I hold with one hand around my neck and shoulders as I peel my wet underwear off, and maneuver to unhook my bra with one hand.
“Right.” He doesn’t even pretend to look away.
“I’ll keep my pants on, but you’re sharing one side of the blanket until the truck warms. I do have to coach tomorrow as opposed to die of pneumonia.”
“You don’t catch pneumonia from being cold.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you through your teeth chattering.”
“Hypothermia is the best you could count on, and the heater in your truck should solve that one.” My teeth keep chattering uncontrollably and I’m shaking.
Kourt crooks an eyebrow up. “How’s that heater in my truck working out for you right now?”
“Noted. At least the most we’ll lose with hypothermia from here back into town is an appendage.”
“I happen to be very fond of all my appendages.”
“I’m sure the entire town is.”
“Get in.”
“Turn around.”
“No.”
“Fine.” I peel my door open with frozen hands and crawl into the truck, keeping the blanket intact as much as possible. In fairness it is a large blanket. However, there’s no blanket large enough for me to share with him this naked.
Kourt waits outside his window until I’m settled.
His door flies open, and he leaps in rubbing his hands together and blowing on them as he adjusts the vents of his heater towards us.
“Wouldn’t that Judge lady have let us in to change and warm by her fireplace?”
“Angelina? Absolutely not. She would’ve called us in for trespassing or upsetting one of her precious hounds.”
“Liar. You’re enjoying this.”
“There are many things I enjoy with a naked woman right beside me, but being this cold is definitely not one of them. Now give me some of my blanket.” Kourt pulls the middle console up and pats the seat next to him.
Wrapped tightly, and snug as a bug in a rug in his large flannel blanket, I shoot daggers back at him.
He raises an eyebrow and motions toward turning the ignition off.
“Fine. Don’t move.” I turn completely away from him to face my passenger side window, where I inch down to one side of the blanket, keeping just enough to cover the front of my body. Then I take the rest and slide over to Kourt, fully covered in my one side like a cocoon.
Kourt shifts to raise his arm and allow me to nestle closer.
“I said don’t move.” He puts his arm back down to his side, and I scoot as close to him as possible, throwing the other half of the blanket across the front of him.
There’s blanket covering the front of me and a barrier to the side of me.
“Wow. You just found a whole new way to share a blanket with someone. That’s impressive. If I knew you could keep us from sitting skin to skin, I could’ve taken my pants off.”
“Don’t you dare.”
We coast a few feet down the driveway. “I do have to move my arms to steer.” Kourt raises his arms to the stirring wheel, and his part of the blanket drops down to a small strip just covering his torso. I feel him shiver next to me as we head out of the manor’s long drive.
“Fine.” Keeping the wrapped layer of my blanket tight across my back and front, I relinquish the side barrier between us and slide my blanket-free hip to meet Kourt’s. I feel his soaking wet jeans on my bare skin, but he can’t feel me. I reach his side of the blanket behind his back and over his shoulders while he drives, wrapping him tightly and pulling my body next to his.
My front is fully covered, save my one arm around him that leans to wrap us both inside the blanket. My bare hip continues to rub against his wet jeans with the motion of the truck as we drive—and my ribs, plus the entire side of my upper body I did not account for in my master plan—press into him.
