I Really Can’t Stay (A.R.’s Holiday Standalones #1)

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Message received

Subject: Holiday SOS

So, Walmart or Target?

-The most attractive favorite stranger, Axel

___

Subject: Holiday SOS

For what?

-Holly

___

Message received

Subject: Holiday SOS

To shop for our ugly Christmas sweaters. You are still able to come tomorrow, right? I thought we could meet up in the morning and I’ll buy you a latte and the most hideous sweater in your store of choice.

-The stranger you’ll never be chilly with, Axel

___

Subject: Holiday SOS

Hmm. Target is my go-to, but I know Walmart has the more ostentatious sweaters. Let's go to Walmart. What time?

-Holly

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Message received

Subject: Holiday SOS

How does around 11 sound? Should I pick you up, or do you want to meet there?

-Your stranger who’s not going to be a stranger for long, Axel

___

Subject: Holiday SOS

11 is great. Let’s meet there. There’s a coffee shop next door. See you tomorrow.

-Holly

___

“ W ait, what do you mean I have to bake the pie beforehand? I thought it was a pie baking competition?” My eyes widen at Axel thanks to the bomb he just dropped on me.

He’s easily the most carefree person I’ve ever met, and I’ve done nothing but laugh since we grabbed coffee and came to shop forty minutes ago.

“Well, it is, but this year my parents are hosting and didn’t really think the whole baking part through. Their house could stand to be brought into the 2000s, but it’s still hanging out in 1986. They have one oven, and I’m pretty sure it’s older than me. Needless to say, baking is out of the question.”

“How old are you?” I ask, pulling a tinsel filled sweater off the rack. There’s a reindeer on it, and even some bells. I give it a little shake to see if they actually ring before putting it back where I found it.

“Twenty-eight.”

Freezing with an ugly red and green monstrosity held midair, I give him a pointed look. “Your math ain’t mathin’.”

Axel grins widely at me and tugs a hanger from the rack. It’s bright red with a green wreath and a stuffed Santa head coming out of the center of it. Honestly, it’s mildly terrifying, but the smile on Axel’s face makes up for it. “I think this might be the one.”

“It’s scary.”

“It’s perfect ,” he stresses, attempting to have a serious demeanor as he says it, but his eyes reflect otherwise.

Axel is handsome in an understated way, like his glow-up may not have happened until he reached his early twenties. When we met at the coffee shop, he walked in with purpose and I instantly knew it was him.

I must be pretty recognizable too, because he came right up and picked me up in a bear hug like he’s known me for years.

I seem to have picked all the touchy feely men in San Diego. First Ethan, now Axel. Even Mateo kept finding ways to touch me. I wonder if Lincoln will be the same.

“Didn’t you say you had nieces and nephews that would be there today? Are you trying to ruin Christmas for them?”

Picking up another option to wear, I’m pleased to see it’s not bad. Red and green Christmas trees alternate lines on a cream-colored sweater, and a large-scale tree sits in the center.

It’s actually kind of cute. I could wear my red sequin skirt with it, and champagne-colored ballet flats.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Axel chants, shaking his head animatedly. “Do you want to win , or do you want to lose, Holly? Because that sweater tells me you want to lose, and I can tell by the twinkle in your eye this is your Christmas version of Say Yes to the Dress .”

“How do you even know what Say Yes to the Dress is?” I laugh, flipping the sweater over my arm to carry.

It’s mine. I’m taking it home.

He shrugs. “I have sisters. But seriously, we’ll lose if you get that.”

Taking the sweater from my arm, he holds it in the air and assesses it closer.

Reaching for it, I try to grab it back from his hold, but he spins to divert me from taking it.

I laugh. “Give me that back!” Reaching for the sweater, he pulls it just out of reach again, so I give up. “We won’t lose, Axel. You haven’t tasted my pie yet.” My cheeks heat immediately, realizing that sounded like a sugarcoated innuendo.

His gaze sweeps over me before he waggles his eyebrows, not missing a beat. “Get your mind out of the gutter, North,” he teases, nudging me softly in the ribs with his elbow. “C’mon, let’s go pay for these and then split up for a while. We’ve got pies to bake and less than three hours before we need to meet up at my parents' house.”

Sighing dramatically, even though I have a giant grin on my face, I relent and loop my arm through his while he guides us to the self-checkout lane.

“Hey, Ma!” Axel calls the moment we step over the threshold of the cozy, ranch-style home settled on the outskirts of La Mesa and Spring Valley. “I brought my famous pie! And my hot date.”

Kicking off his shoes, he scoots them off to the side to accompany the several other pairs that have been left there, so I do the same as I look around the Harris’ house. Family pictures and home decor cover the walls, and from further in the home I hear laughter and children playing. The scents of cinnamon, cloves, and roasted meat fill the air as I follow Axel to the kitchen.

“Ma! I said I’m here with my famous pie and my hot date,” Axel announces again as we join several adults gathered around a large kitchen table.

“Son! I didn’t hear you come in,” an older man with graying hair says, coming around to greet us. He’s wearing a Christmas sweater with a smiley face emoji wearing a Santa hat on it, and is carrying a mug with a steaming beverage.

“Famous pie? Hot date? One of those things is false, and I can see it’s not the date.” A handsome man who looks similar to Axel, but with lighter hair, turns around from the table being used as you’d use a kitchen island, with his hand extended. “Hi, I’m Ridge, Axel’s older, wiser, and more attractive brother.”

“Holly,” I greet, shifting my pie into my less dominant hand so I can shake his. “I’m pretty sure he’s lying about the pie being famous. It looks too perfect, if you ask me.”

“Hey!” Axel whines like he’s a kid again. “Whose side are you on?”

“Here, give me that,” Ridge says, grabbing the pie out of Axel’s hands to inspect.

The energy between these two is palpable, as though every time they’re together they revert back to a playful brotherhood.

A painful surge entangles my heart for a moment, but the sadness doesn’t linger. It can't—not with Axel’s mom pushing back her sons to come speak to me.

“Hi, sweetheart. My name’s Martha. I’m these two twits’ momma.” Martha opens her arms to me, and I hesitate before placing my pie on the counter and accepting her hug. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Thank you for having me today.”

“Oh, honey, thank you. Axel hasn’t brought a woman home since the last one shattered his heart and ran off to Arizona with it.”

“Ma,” Axel growls, but she flicks her hand in his direction.

“You didn’t make this pie,” Ridge accuses, just as a few more people join us in the kitchen.

“What are we talking about?” a young woman asks, hopping onto a barstool. She looks similar to Axel and Ridge.

“Nothing,” Axel says quickly, sending a glare at his brother at the same time Ridge says, “Axel’s trying to cheat, again .”

“No,” the woman mocks, smacking her hand on her chest with gusto. “Not Axel!”

“Uncle Axel!” A little boy giggles as he sprints into the room, running so fast he nearly crashes into my legs. Instead, he uses them as a pole to swing around before shooting back out of the room.

“Hi, Jeremy!” Axel calls after him, but he’s already gone.

“Jeremy, slow down! Hey, Ax,” another woman says as she comes into the kitchen, going straight to him for a hug.

“Hey Care,” he greets, smiling warmly. From over her shoulder, our eyes meet. “Carrie, this is Holly. Holly, my sister, Carrie.”

“And Holly is?” She raises one eyebrow, her voice full of curiosity as she walks to me next. Without hesitation, she pulls me into a hug.

“My girl—date.”

“Your girl date?” She laughs.

“Smooth, dipshit,” Ridge chimes in.

“We haven’t defined things yet,” I insert, hugging Carrie, feeling the need to come to Axel’s rescue even though I can tell it’s all in good fun.

In my ear, she whispers, “If you need reinforcements, I’ve got you. These two can be relentless together. I’m not afraid to kick either of my brother’s asses.”

Immediately I like her, and as she rears back, she gives my shoulders a squeeze and winks. There’s a smile on my lips when my gaze meets Axel’s again. He’s watching me with amusement as I meet his family one by one.

“So, I caught the tail end of that as I was coming in.” Carrie looks over at Ridge. “What’d Axel do now?”

“Nothing,” Axel grumbles. Picking up his pie, he starts to walk out of the kitchen. “C’mon, Holly. Let’s go. I can see that they don't want us or our pies here.”

“Oh, now, don’t you wrap Holly into this, Axel! Ain’t nothing wrong with her or her pie,” Martha, Axel’s mom, teases.

“Woooow,” he groans. “I see how it is.”

“Hey, that’s not even a normal sized pie,” the younger woman, who still hasn’t been introduced, points out.

“Let me see it!” Carrie steps forward, grabbing the pie from Axel’s hands. Trying to keep it in his grasp, he pulls it backward, but doesn’t anticipate Carrie letting it go.

Within seconds, the pie lands upside down on the floor and is smashed within its plastic wrap.

“My pie!” Axel bends down to see if it’s salvageable. Thankfully, it’s been contained within its packaging, but it’s turned into a giant mess.

“There’s no way you baked that. They don’t make household pie-pans that big.” Ridge squats beside his brother to study the pie closer.

All the while, I watch from my place and lean against the table, trying not to laugh. My eyes track the movement of Axel’s father as he walks over to a drawer by the refrigerator and pulls out a handful of forks. Passing them out, he then goes and picks up the smashed pie, placing it on the counter.

“Alright, everyone. Have a taste. If we’re going to keep Axel’s pie in the contest, we need to at least know if it’s worth the kerfuffle.”

“Ew, Dad, that was on the floor.” Axel’s younger sister wrinkles her nose in disgust, setting the fork down. “No way.”

“Annie, it’s still wrapped in plastic. It’s fine.”

“C’mon, Holly, we still have time to make a run for it,” Axel jests, coming up behind me.

“No way! I’m invested now. I need to know if you cheated.” I giggle, swatting at Axel’s chest playfully. It’s sort of an intimate gesture, but Axel feels like an old friend.

Holding my fork expectantly, Axel’s dad peels back the plastic and in unison, we both, along with Carrie, and Ridge, dig into the smooth, deep orange pie.

The room is silent as we take our bites. Delicious, sweet pumpkin explodes on my taste buds, with notes of cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

“Definitely store bought,” Ridge concludes.

Nodding her head, Carrie agrees. “Yeah, you didn’t make this.”

“It’s Costco,” I hum, and shamelessly dig my fork in for another bite. “I’d recognize a Costco pumpkin pie anywhere.”

“Wow, cool, thanks everyone for ganging up on the best baker ever to grace this family.” Axel tosses his hands into the air, his voice full of sarcasm. Turning to Martha, he swings his arm over her shoulder, and tosses me a quick wink. “What’s my prize, Ma? You all know I won. Nothing beats Costco pie.”

A bubble of laughter rises through me as I watch the exchange.

This is how my family was. I’ve missed this.

So many pieces of me were terrified to go on these holiday dates with these men—being around their loving families, their co-workers—I was afraid it would hurt so badly and cause the hole in my chest to widen further.

But being here, in a family that clearly loves each other so much, and is willing to accept strangers into their home with open arms, gives me a slight shift in my perspective.

My heart aches, but the Harris family has also healed something in me, just like Mateo and his date did, and that’s a Christmas gift in and of itself.