His Taste Of Christmas (Forbidden Tastes #1)

1. Angel

Chapter one

Angel

“ I t’s beginning to look a lot like Christ—”

“Hey! I was listening to that,” Macey shouts, glaring at me from across the bar.

Rolling my eyes, I leave the counter and make my way to the tables to help her get ready for opening. I’m sick of listening to Macey’s bloody Christmas songs. “It’s bad enough that I have to listen to that crap every fucking day while living with you. I refuse to do it at work, Mace,” I complain as I lower the chairs from a table.

“Ale—”

“Don’t you fucking dare. If I hear one more Michael or Mariah song from that speaker, I will stamp out that Alexa.” With narrowed eyes, I observe Macey, who smirks at me, appearing eager to challenge my threat. I raise an eyebrow and place a hand on my hip, silently challenging her to test me.

With a sickly sweet tone, she calls out, “Alexa, play…” She drags her instruction out and then in a jumbled rush of words, she shouts, “Christmas Hits playlist on Spotify.”

I spin on my heels and stalk towards the Alexa. As the speaker starts playing yet another stupid Christmas song, Macey's laughter fills the room. Of course, I’m not entirely crazy. I wouldn't destroy the speaker simply because it plays Christmas songs. Well, not on a day when I’m in an okay mood, anyway.

With her boots slapping and echoing through the room, Macey hurries in my direction, screeching “Angel” from behind me.

With a grin, I start running too, but I don’t get far. Macey tackles me from behind, resulting in a loud scream leaving my mouth and both of us tumbling to the floor, followed by fits of laughter.

Macey has been my best friend since I can remember. During our childhood, we lived next door and were inseparable, attending school together. We both got accepted into a college in Chelsea. Their literature program is top-notch, which is great for me since I love writing, and Mace has always had a passion for business finance. The moment we learned about the college's programs for both of us, we made up our minds to stay together and not look elsewhere.

We lived in South London with our parents, which we adored, but the daily commute was pure torture. We would often be out for more than fourteen hours, returning home only to eat, shower, and crash into bed, ready to repeat the process the next day. We were walking zombies.

It was only by some stroke of luck—and much persuasion from my dad—that we were able to move into the flat above my parent’s pub, on the condition that we help out behind the bar when needed. Given our upbringing in this place and early experience pouring pints, it was a clear choice.

This pub has been in my family for centuries, and with it looking over London Bridge, it’s much closer to the college. It’s a trendy pub that is always busy. This year, though, Mace and I are pissed about the work situation. My parents are going on holiday, so we have to run the place throughout the Christmas period, and that includes being open on Christmas Day. So now Mace and I are stuck here, managing this place during the busiest time of the year. The problem isn't managing the pub. It’s the bloody festive people that do me in.

Mace being one of them.

“Girls!”

I roll off Macey at the sound of the stern shout, flicking my gaze to meet my dad’s emerald-green eyes. His expression is sour at the sight of Macey and I on the floor. “I have a feeling that it's a big mistake to leave you two in charge while your mum and I go away.”

Leaping up onto my feet, I brush my hands against my thighs, wiping away the dust. “Dad. Come on. You know we can do this. We’ll be fine.”

His eyes fall to Mace, who is still lying on the floor as she smiles up at him. “Kane, I can assure you that I won't cause any issues. It’s your daughter who’ll lead you to bankruptcy.” He extends his hand to Mace, who takes hold of it to help her stand. Then she motions to me. “This Miss Grinch will frighten away all the customers. She won’t even let me play Christmas songs.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s bloody Christmas, Kane. Sort her out.” Casting a smirk my way, she lets me know she's won. Christmas is adored by my dad and, in fact, my entire family.

“Angel face.”

My dad’s eyes land on me while Mace mumbles, “More like witch face.” Just as I flash a fake smile and flip her off, my dad comes over and surprises me with a warm hug.

“I understand that you're not very festive, but please try to be while your mum and I are away. Do you think you can do that?”

I lean in and place my head against his chest, nodding. “Sure thing, Dad. Don't stress. Everything is going to be fine.” I step back and flash him a reassuring smile.

“Kane,” Mace says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “What's the reason behind Angel's strong dislike for Christmas? I’m guessing it’s unresolved trauma from the year you and Krystal didn't purchase the Barbie Dream House for her.”

“Watch me spit in your tea tomorrow morning.”

“Girls,” Dad deadpans. “Stop winding each other up.”