Secret Santa 4U

Secret Santa 4U

By

Paisley Scott

S
now blew heavy across the highway and covered the windshield of Sophie Mulligan
’
s practical VW Bug.
The
slap-slap
of the wipers droned on with each slow-motion moment as she struggled against
the storm.
Only a few miles until her exit.
She rolled to a stop
along with the
traffic.
Weather like this always made the holiday season less than happy for Sophie.
She looked off the highway at the tiny town of
Bedford
.
Even in the fading daylight, it wa
s cozy and quaint with its perfect blanket of fresh
snow.
Christmas lights, colorful, blinking and bright, lit up houses as far as she could see.

Christmas.

The time of year that intensified the fact she was alone.

She sighed and put the VW in gear as traf
fic
inched
forward again.

It wasn
’
t like she
’
d set out to be the loneliest person in the entire state of
North Carolina
.
Heck, there were sure to be others in her same predicament.
Right?
She frowned.
With her luck in the romance department, probably not.

She glanced in her rearview mirror.
Eyes the color of warm molasses stared back at her.
She smiled sadly
, remembering
.
T
hat
’
s how her father had always described her boring brown eyes.
Sophie pushed her auburn bangs back beneath her
gray
wool cap and looke
d at the road again.
Thank goodness
her exit was next.
She wanted nothing more than to get home and take a nice, hot bath.

The ride home was a lot easier
, once she left the interstate
.
Whereas the
highway
had traffic, the roads within town were
,
for the mo
st part, deserted.
That
’
s generally what happened each major holiday since this was mostly a college town.
Everyone went home to be with their families
,
and
Bedford
turned into a ghost town until the semester started up again in January.
It was a nice hiat
us, she thought.

At least from work.

She
’
d been
a librarian
at
Bedford
City
College
for nearly three years.
Truth be told, she liked working around
the students
.
It made her feel like she was back in school with them.
Even though it had only been eight yea
rs since she graduated from the same college, she felt like a dowdy old spinster.

And at the ripe old age of thirty-three.

She groaned and downshifted as she reached the turn
-
in to her apartment complex.
The park
ing lot was nearly vacant, with the exceptio
n of
a few snow-covered cars.
Either the owners didn
’
t have plans for the holidays or they
’
d opted for other transportation this season.
Whichever was fine with Sophie
—
it meant prime parking smack dab in front of her first floor apartment.

Balancing two co
py paper boxes in her arms, she made her way to the front door, the rubber soles of her boots crunching in the quiet snow as she went.

“
Hey!
Let me help you, Soph.
”

Startled, Sophie stopped and looked over the top of the boxes, discovering the voice belong
ed to her young, upstairs neighbor, Brody Jacobs.

Two small slashes creased his lean cheeks as he smiled
.
“
Are you headed h
ome for the holidays?
”
he asked, taking the boxes easily from her.

Unlocking her front door, she opened it and
escorted
Brody inside.
He
’
d been in her apartment enough times he should have a key by now.
He was her Mr. Fix-it when it came to computer problems
and even built the computer she had sitting
on her desk in the front room.

“
Nah.
I
’
m going to stay here,
”
she told him, pulling of
f her cap and tossing it on the kitchen bar.
“
Those are ornaments you
’
re holding.
I
figure I
’
ll
set up the tree tonight.
”

Brody set the copier boxes down against the far wall
.
“
Need some help?
I don
’
t have any plans.
”

Sophie
shook her head
.
“
You
’
re too swe
et for your own good, Brody.
You
’
re going to get taken advantage of if you keep offering to help.
”

“
Being taken advantage of by a woman?
”
Dark
eyebrows
rose
above his sapphire blue eyes.
“
How c
ould
that ever be a bad thing?
”

She
grinned
at him.
“
Hey, did y
ou get contacts?
”
It was the first time she noticed he wasn
’
t wearing the thick rimmed glasses she
’
d always seen him wear.

The lean cheeks creased again.
“
Yep.
Just got
‘
em this week.
Pretty cool, huh?
”

“
Very nice, indeed.
I
swear i
f I were ten years young
er, I
’
d do you.
”
She winked.

She loved to tease him, but for some reason today
—
with him looking so…
dare she say, delicious…
she couldn
’
t help herself from
flirting just a little bit, too.
Just to see his reaction.

Brody blushed.
“
Wow.
That was
…
completely un
expected.
”

Sophie patted his shoulder.
Regardless of
the
age
difference
, they were friends.
Good friends.
And she didn
’
t want to make him uncomfortable.
“
You know
I
’
m just teasing.
”

He cocked his head.
“
What?
You mean you wouldn
’
t do me now?
Man, you
’
re a
tease.
”

“
I wish,
”
she said, shrugging off her heavy coat and taking it to the hall closet.
A minute later, she emerged from the closet with a long box.
“
Would you mind helping me with this?
”

He took it from her.
“
Your tree, I presume?
”

“
All the Christmas c
harm with no prickly needles.
”

He grunted.
“
Nice.
”

“
Are you being sarcastic?
”

“
Me?
No.
Never.
When am I ever sarcastic?
”

“
Hmm.
Let me think.
”
She paused a tick.
“
Oh yeah, always.
”

They both laughed.

Over an hour later, they had the tree up
,
decorated and s
trung with
multi-colored
lights.
They turned off the overhead lamp and watched the tranquil twinkling.
If she let her mind drift, Sophie could swear it almost felt like Christmas.

Brody nodded toward the computer resting on the desk near the cold fireplace.
“
How
’
s that service I told you about?
Have you met anyone interesting yet?
”

It was Sophie
’
s turn to blush.
The service he was talking about was an online dating site.
“
I
’
ve met a few.
”

“
Come on.
How hard are you trying, Soph?
”
He walked over and booted u
p her PC.
“
Log in and show me your profile.
I
’
ll give you a man
’
s perspective on it.
”

She shook her head.
“
I don
’
t want to, Brody.
It
’
s not that bad.
I
’
ve had lots of offers, just nothing I
’
m that interested in, okay?
I can handle my own love life, thank y
ou very much.
”

The look on his face clearly told her he wasn
’
t fooled by her bravado.
“
Please don
’
t tell me you
’
re still using that LibraryLass nickname?
”

She looked away from him.
“
What
’
s wrong with that name?
Lots of men have fantasies about librarians,
you know.
”

“
True.
But with that moniker you just look like a bookworm
—
like you
visit
the library a lot instead of run a department.
S
pice it up a little
—
you
’
re
way too conservative.
Take a chance.
Try something like,
I dunno.
HotLibrarian or CheckMeOut.
So
mething clever and titillating.
Guys
—
all of us
—
dig that shit.
It turns us on.
”

She balked.
“
Don
’
t ruin my perfect perception of you, Brody.
You
’
re a sweetheart.
”
She pointed to the monitor.
“
You
’
re not like those guys.
Believe me, they
’
re not romantic or e
ven quasi-nice guys, so don
’
t throw yourself into their category.
Besides they
’
re a bunch of old farts trolling that site
,
and you
’
re a nice kid.
”

Brody
’
s jaw clenched.
“
Nice or not, Sophie, I
’
m not a kid.
I
’
m twenty-four and my birthday
’
s next month.
Is t
hat the magic age?
Twenty-five?
Or do I have to wait
‘
til I hit my thirties to officially be called a man?
Tell me, Soph, because I
’
m dying to know.
”