Travis

I, Travis Malone, hate Christmas.

Hate with a capital H.

Bad shit always happens to me and my family this time of year.

I refuse to even acknowledge the holiday’s existence, let alone celebrate it. Although some members of my family still choose to do so, my mother and aunt being those people. I’ll never understand why they torture themselves with all the cheer and décor, because they’ve suffered through the merriest time of year for longer than I have.

On December first every year, the countdown begins. Today is day one, but I’m already anxious for this season to be over. Especially since my alarm didn’t go off this morning and I had to skip my morning workout routine. I hate days that start out this way.

I shut the side door to my two-bedroom home with a loud bang and catch sight of the bright yellow moving truck. It stands out like a sore thumb against the stark whiteness covering the ground and every surface around it.

Normally, I wouldn’t care about the truck, or the trail of footprints between it and the little blue house next door, but the damn thing is blocking my driveway.

I groan, already running late for work; the last thing I want to do this morning is meet my new neighbors. Looking up at the sky, asking for patience, I trudge across the snow-covered ground toward the little blue house.

A cold breeze picks up my hair, making me shiver down into my coat a little further. Passing the truck, I can’t help but shake my head in frustration. Who the fuck moves in the middle of winter, let alone two weeks before Christmas?

I can hear people moving around and shouting from somewhere inside when I approach the door. Careful to check my attitude, I lift an arm, rapping gently on the door. The last thing I need to do is start a war with my new neighbors. No one comes to the door. Checking my watch, I release a frustrated sigh and knock again, this time harder and louder.

After a few seconds, the door opens, and I’m greeted by a young girl with bright blue eyes and wavy blond hair. Green and red ribbons hang down in strands from her headband.

“Who are you?” she asks and places her small hands on her hips with mountains of attitude.

“Are your parents here?” I ask, ignoring her question but lifting an eyebrow all the same. This little girl could use a lesson in manners, greeting a perfect stranger like this. Better yet, why is she answering the door in the first place? Haven’t her parents taught her about the danger of strangers?

“Hannah, I told you not to open the door.” A woman emerges from the next room with a scowl on her face directed at the young girl. Hannah turns and drops her hands to her sides.

“Sorry, Mama.” Hannah shrugs at the woman before skipping off down the hallway. I watch her go with a smirk on her face.

“Can I help you?”

I turn my eyes from where she disappeared to, back to the woman in front of me, and my heart stops. Standing across from me, in the doorway of the little blue house, is the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.

Her ocean-blue eyes regard me with curiosity and annoyance. The longer I look into their ocean depths, the more I feel like I’m drowning in them. Her long blond hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and my hands itch to release it from the hair tie.

I shake my head, struggling to pull air back into my lungs, and break the connection. From her eyes, mine travel down the length of her body, and I cross my arms, managing to disguise my initial interest and attraction as something else.

She’s wearing clothing that does nothing to show her body, but even under the large garments, I can tell her curvy body is the kind that will bring a man to his knees.

“Hello,” she yells, waving a hand in front of my face. “Anyone home?”

I shake my head again and take a step back before regaining my composure.

Fuck, I got caught staring at her body.

Fuck, staring is next to the last thing I need to be doing. Getting caught is even worse. But the very last thing I need to be doing is thinking about taking her clothes off for a better view of the goods underneath.

“Where’s your husband?” I bite and clear my throat.

“Excuse me?” She crosses her arms, pushing her breasts up and out, allowing me a better sense of their size. My cock twitches as though her breasts are beacons of life, calling to it.

“Your husband,” I repeat, enunciating each word carefully.

Please let this woman be married.

“I’m not married.” She lifts her head proudly, like she’s waiting for me to say something about it. I don’t touch it.

“Move your truck.”

“What?” she gasps, and I roll my eyes, my annoyance over this shit turning into irritation pretty quickly.

“Your truck. Move it.” My eyes bear down on her. She opens her mouth as though she’s going to argue with me, but I cut her off. “It’s blocking my driveway.”

“It is?” She looks down the driveway at the yellow truck, and her face softens a little. I stifle a groan, feeling the twinge in my cock, when her lower lip slips in between her teeth and she bites down on it. Fuck me, why did she have to do that? “I’m sorry. I’ll have one of the movers out there in a minute to move it out of your way.”

She looks back at me, and then retreats to close the front door, but I place a booted foot and stop her.

The need to shut down the feelings raging in my body for this woman and reinforce the invisible line separating our properties bubbles out. Like with the rest of the neighbors around me, I’m not interested in being friendly, and I need her to know that.

“Not exactly a good impression you’re making, blocking a neighbor’s driveway like that,” I say dryly, almost like I’m bored with this entire thing.

“Considering I didn’t park the truck there, I’d probably agree with you, but it’s not exactly a good impression, banging on a neighbor’s door, making demands like you’re king of the neighborhood welcome team,” she clips back, mimicking her daughter’s behavior and placing her hands on her hips.

“Don’t care about impressions. Care that my driveway isn’t blocked first thing in the morning when I’m trying to leave for work.”

“I can assure you, neighbor, it’s a one-time thing and it will never happen again.” Her nostrils flare and her eyes narrow on me. “Now, if you’re finished with your unconventional welcome, I’d like to settle in and organize my house.”

I give her a quick nod but still can’t make myself walk away. Not when all I can think about is how fucking sexy she looks all riled up and sassing me.

“Are we done?” She lifts an eyebrow and stares at me.

I lift a hand, place it on my hip, and look down at my boot, removing it from its spot in front of her door. I chuckle before turning away. She slams the door at my back, only making me laugh harder.

Trudging across the snow again, I wait inside my truck for one of the movers to move the moving truck out of my way.