The iron gurgles as I set it down on the ironing board next to my dress. Yesterday I had such a lovely time with Landon picking out my dress and even going to Carly’s florist. The wedding is a few months away yet, but I’d rather iron it now and hang it in my closet all set to go. I texted a photo to Carly, and she loves it, which is the most important thing.

The doorbell rings so I leave the iron out on the board as I make my way to the front door. I slide the curtain to the side. “Landon!” I unlock the door to let him in.

Instead of walking through the door, he kisses me first and then steps around the corner of my porch. I peek my head over, and he comes back into view with a huge box. I step outside into the cold air to hold the door as he maneuvers his way through, plopping the box onto the ground.

“What’s this?” The tall and rectangular box is bulky and takes up a lot of space in my entryway. He glances at the front and when there is nothing identifying the contents on it, he turns it around so I can see the picture on the front.

“You brought me a Christmas tree?” What am I supposed to do with this? I’ve never owned a tree, and I don’t intend to start now. What on earth would make him bring me a tree?

“I sure did. You told me you don’t have one. I thought I’d help you out.”

“That’s really sweet of you.” There’s no good way to get out of this one. Whether or not I want the tree, I have to accept it. Even though I don’t celebrate Christmas, my mom always taught me that when you’re given a gift, you don’t refuse it. So I won’t.

“What’s that smell?”

“What?” I stick my nose in the air, and it takes a moment for the hot smell of burning fabric to register with my brain. Crap! “My dress!” I race back to my bedroom where the iron has fallen over and onto my gown for Carly’s wedding. Why didn’t I shut it off? I grab the iron and switch the off button. Thankfully, no flames, but there’s a hole right in the middle of my dress. The tears well up in my eyes until they explode.

“Is everything okay?” Landon says behind me. I didn’t know he’d followed me back to my room.

“Well, my dress is ruined.”

“Be thankful it wasn’t any worse.”

“You’re right.” I pick up the dress and stick my hand through the hole, bunch it up, and throw it on the floor. I should be thankful a fire didn’t break out in my home. This could have been a terrible tragedy when in reality it’s only a ruined dress.

“The good news is you can probably buy the same one.”

“For another two hundred dollars.” I sigh. I hate wasting money. “I can’t believe I did this. Normally I’m such a careful person. I blame you for coming to my door.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” I smile. “This is all your fault.” I step up to him and press my finger into his chest. “Your fault.”

“Well, then, I gladly take the blame.”

He reaches down and kisses me, and I forget about the moments before when I was crying and shaming myself for what I did. His hand moves up and down my back as he kisses me harder. Before I even give myself a chance to think about it, I sit down on the bed, and he lays me back. God, how can I feel so close to someone I just met? This is what I’ve always searched for and never could find. I never let my guard down long enough to allow something like this to happen. When I’m with Landon my guard disappears.

We say nothing to each other, lost in our passion. My shirt comes off, and his pants slide down, and before I can take a second to breathe, he’s inside of me. I’ve never done this so fast, been with a man, but with Landon I feel as though I’ve known him for years, like we’ve been waiting our lives for this moment.

And this moment has arrived.

* * *

I can’t believe it’s already almost noon. My shift at the mall starts at one. I’d rather lie in Landon’s arms all afternoon. Why isn’t that possible? I make my way out of bed, pull on my underwear, and search for my elf costume.

“Are you staring at me?” I can feel his eyes on me, and I like it.

“What can I say except that I enjoy the view?”

I’m blushing, and I’m sure even though he can’t see my face, he knows I am. He has a way of making my cheeks hot and body even hotter.

“I hate to kick you out but I need to go to work.” I never want him to leave. Stay with me forever, I want to say. What am I thinking? I want something like this, and the fact I may finally have it is scary because I can lose it at any moment.

“Sure, you only want to use me as your boy toy—toss me away as soon as you can.”

“I’ve never had a boy toy in my entire life.“ My sexual experience isn’t lacking, but I don’t necessarily qualify for slut status either. And I don’t even know if I believe in that word. A woman has the right to do what she wants with her body, and if having an active sex life is what she wants, then who am I to judge?

“Well, if the position ever opens up I’d like to apply.” He sneaks up behind me and buries his head in my neck. I reach my arm around and run my fingers through his hair. His hand makes its way up my stomach and around to my breast.

“I really do have to get ready for work even though I’d much rather be doing this.”

I don’t move his hand, allowing him to massage me. We’re about to fall back into each other when my phone rings. I groan as I glance at my phone. My mom. And she’s trying to FaceTime. Of course. I can’t deal with this now.

I try to hit the ignore button, but I miss and press accept. Oh no! I don’t show my face, tossing a shirt on as fast as I can, and push Landon aside. “Mom! Hi!” I rake my fingers through my hair in an attempt to not look like I just had sex. “How are you?”

Landon is laughing at me. I search around for something to toss at him but the only thing in my reach is a pillow, and my mom would see me throw that. She can’t know he’s here.

“I’m well, dear. I haven’t heard back from you.”

“About what?” I struggle with my phone in my hand as I dress, and use my feet to kick Landon’s clothes at him. I mouth for him to put his clothes on. He poses like Mr. Clean, and I don’t hold in my laugh, which is followed by a snort. Oh, great.

“What’s going on?” My mom peeks around on the screen as though she can see everything in the room. I move to the opposite side my bedroom where Landon is not. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Mom, it’s fine. I’m ironing.” I leave the bedroom because it’s only dangerous with Landon there and go into the kitchen. “I’m almost ready to leave for work.”

“I won’t keep you long then. Are you coming on the seventeenth? Hunter would love to see you.”

“I thought it was the fifteenth.”

“It was. Something with the paperwork. It’s Sunday now. I want you there.”

I sigh. I’m tired of having this conversation. Even if I did want to have it, now is not a good time. “Mom, must we do this right now?”

“Yes, we must. You should be here. He’s your brother.”

“We’ve been over this a thousand times. I have nothing to say to him, and you shouldn’t either.” I whisper so Landon can’t hear me. He’s aware of the situation but I don’t want him to hear me arguing with my mom about this.

“Why are you whispering? Is someone there with you?” She squints her light eyes as she searches the screen.

“No, no one is here.” Landon hops in and out of view in the corner of my screen. Hopefully, my mom didn’t notice. He was quick about it, at least.

“Juliette Denise Walsh stop lying to me. Who is there? I saw a man.”

Dammit. I should give her more credit. She’s a mom. She sees things. She knows things. I’m not sixteen anymore. There isn’t a reason to sneak a man around my house though the thought of my mom knowing what we were doing grosses me out. Maybe she won’t think anything of it. She’s so caught up in this Hunter thing it may be okay.

“Fine.” I turn and call to Landon. He comes to the phone. I take a deep breath and put my phone a far enough distance away from me so we both fit on the screen. “Mom, this is Landon. Landon, this is my mom.” I didn’t expect to introduce him to my mom so soon. Something like that is a big step in a relationship, one I’m not sure I’m ready to make quite yet. Surprise—I don’t have a choice in the matter.

They exchange hellos and ask how the other is doing. My mom’s gigantic smile is odd, and I can already picture her hanging up the phone and planning my wedding. Great. I’ll never hear the end of this.

My mom’s smile fades as she tilts her head to the right. “Landon, your hair is a bit messy, and, if I’m not mistaken, your shirt is on backward.”

“Mom!” Great. She’s figured us out. Landon excuses himself as he fixes his shirt and combs through his hair with his fingers. I shiver at the thought of us being busted. I may be a grown woman but that doesn’t make it less embarrassing.

“Landon, don’t you think Juliette should come see her brother? I’m sure she’s told you about her brother.”

Why is she asking his opinion? She’s known him all of ten seconds, and she’s asking for him to jump in on our family matter, one that I don’t even want to be a part of.

“With all due respect, Ms. Walsh, I don’t think it’s my place to step in here.”

“You have to have an opinion. I mean, you’re there with your hair messed up and lipstick on your cheek. You have to know Juliette well enough to voice your thoughts.”

My heart drops to my stomach. Wow. My mom can be pretty ballsy but this may go down in history as the most outspoken she has ever been straight out of the gate.

“I…I’m not sure.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt, shifting his head from one side to the other. How do I save him from this conversation? Can I disconnect her without warning? Drop my phone in the sink? Confront her about how inappropriate she’s being? I can’t just sit here and let Landon deal with this.

“Oh, Mom, someone else is beeping in. It’s work. I have to go.”

“Juliette,” she says, and I know she knows I’m lying. I don’t care. I keep going with it. The only way I’ll save us from this uncomfortable situation is push forward with the lie.

“I’ll call you later, okay? Bye!”

“Nice meeting—” I cut Landon off when I hit the End Call button. “Hey! I was trying to say goodbye to your very kind, very shy mother.”

“Stop teasing me. I’m sorry about that.” My phone clatters as it hits the counter, my head shortly behind it.

“Don’t worry about it. I can handle myself.”

That I know he can. He proved it in the bedroom and was about to again before my mom called and put him right in the middle of our business. Like it or not, though, he’s there. In the thick of it. I’m curious how he views this situation. My mom is right. I’m sure he has an opinion. “What do you think?”

“About your brother?”

“Yeah. Do you think I should go?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m comfortable getting involved in this. The entire subject seems to be a pretty sensitive one between you and your mom.”

I’m not asking him to get involved involved. Is it wrong to share an opinion? That’s all I’m asking. I don’t need him to solve the problem, and if he gives advice, that doesn’t mean I’ll take it. I’m only interested in his thoughts. “Well, what would you do? If your brother had been in jail, and your mom was planning this gathering, what would you do knowing what he’d done to your family?”

He backs up against the table and crosses his arms. “I’d go.”

“You’d go?” I can’t believe he said that. “You’d go?” I repeat myself at least one more time, trying to make sense of how he could even consider this. I wanted an answer, but I thought he’d side with me. How is he taking her side in this?

“Yeah. Family is important. I’d want to see my brother after such a long time. He’s been locked up and been through hell, I’m sure. As far as what landed him there, I’m sure he’s completed a rehabilitation program or therapy or something and he’s changed now.”

“I doubt it.” Does he really think people change that quickly? Two years may seem like a long time but it’s not. I’m sure prison wasn’t exactly the most honest place, either. Fine. Maybe he’s given up forging checks but what if he’s replaced it with something different? What if he comes home and starts selling drugs? Or worse? I don’t want to think about the worse.

“But you don’t know unless you see him. And I’m sure it will make him happy if you both are there.”

I don’t care if he’s happy. He didn’t care about my mom so why should I care about him? All Hunter does is think about himself. He’s selfish. He’s a thief. I can’t sit in a room with my forgiving mom and my criminal brother. I can’t do this alone.

“Come with me.” I can’t believe I make the suggestion but once the words leave my mouth, there’s no taking them back. It may actually be a good idea.

“Come with you?”

Uh oh. Repeating what I say isn’t a good sign he’s on board with this. How can I convince him? “Yes. Come with me, and be the buffer between us.”

“I don’t know, Juliette.” He scratches the stubble on his cheek. “This seems like something you and your mom need to do together.”

“I can’t. I can’t do this without you there. I can handle my mom fine but I’m going to say something stupid to my brother. I know it. You can keep me in check.” I won’t say anything regretful in front of Landon. Our relationship is too new.

He reaches out and takes my hand in his. “I do think it’s important you go.” His lips touch my skin. “Are you telling me the only way you’ll go is if I go with you?”

That isn’t exactly what I’m saying, but it’s what I’m implying. “Please go with me? I promise if it’s uncomfortable for either of us we’ll leave. Maybe come back here, and I’ll make it up to you.”

He slips his hands around my waist. “I think maybe you can make it up to me either way.”

“I like the way that sounds.” I want to keep this up but I can’t be late for work. “We’ll have to finish this later.” And I intend to do just that. “Oh! I almost forgot. Do you have plans on Saturday night?”

“Only if you make some for us.”

“Good. I have my holiday party at Booker & Smith, and I want you to be my date.”

“I’d be honored.” He points to the box still sitting in my living room. “I’m sorry we didn’t put the tree up.”

I don’t want that thing in my house, but I can’t very well tell him that. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get to it.”

“I’d love to help you.”

“That’s okay. I’ll get around to it. Thank you very much for delivering it.”

“No problem. I couldn’t let you go through the holidays without a tree. What kind of elf doesn’t have a tree?”

An elf who hates Christmas that’s who.