The Bad Boy’s Secret Santa (Christmas in Alpine Valley #9)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

PIPER

I hug the red envelope to my chest and let out the squeal of delight I’ve been holding in for over twenty minutes. Ever since I pulled the special Christmas card out of my mailbox. I didn’t dare let my four-plex neighbors see just how excited I was about this turn of events. They truly believe that participating in this year’s Secret Santa event is all about a free month of rent.

I know better.

This is the Christmas that I finally find my true love.

There’s a rumor circulating Alpine Valley that Grandma Wilma is a matchmaker. That she uses these special events to help couples find one another. Most people laugh at it, despite there being five newly minted couples from last year’s event. But I noticed something they haven’t. The women who were personally invited to participate were the ones who ended up with engagement rings last Christmas.

And I’ve been suspecting that Grandma is up to something this year too. Ever since our Sunday night pot roast last week. Why else would she have asked about my neighbors’ Christmas plans?

I reread the card once more, unable to tame my cheek-to-cheek grin of excitement. I’m willing to bet there’ll be four more happily-ever-after successes to add to the event’s tally come Christmas Day.

I change into my favorite red sweater, the one that accentuates all my curves, add a few curls to my long blonde hair, and touch up my makeup. I stare indecisively at the lipstick tube in my palm. Red might be overkill. But I also feel confident and sexy when I’m brave enough to wear it.

If I’m going to discover who my true love is today, I want to look and feel like a million bucks.

I apply the lipstick.

Slipping on my coat and cute, fuzzy red stocking hat, I opt for walking.

Light snowflakes fall from the sky, ever so gently dusting the world around me. Everything sparkles. I can feel the Christmas magic in the air.

Is today the day I get to star in my very own Hallmark movie? Well, hopefully mine will be less wholesome because I would really, really like some mind-blowing sex this Christmas. Hey, I’ll admit it. The drought has been embarrassingly long. Besides, Santa has a naughty side. Right?

I scan the sidewalk as I head downtown, wondering who my perfect match might be. Has he been in Alpine Valley this whole time, right under my nose? Or will it be some mysterious stranger who gets stranded in town? Maybe some hot single dad will need a nanny for the holidays and his daughter will help the match along.

“Or maybe I’ve watched too many Christmas romances lately.”

But my smile only stretches wider as I turn a corner and the Alpine Valley Community Center comes into view.

No one knows for sure how the names for the Secret Santa event are chosen. Grandma has been very tight-lipped about it all.

“Piper, you’re the first one here!” Grandma Wilma straightens out a red tablecloth across a long table. Behind it, I spot a couple dozen or more tiny gift bags. All of them holiday themed and glittery.

“Can I help?”

“Actually, I was hoping to ask you something.”

“You need a favor?”

“It’s a little more than a favor, sweetie.” She waves me behind the table, and my pulse jumps.

I cautiously meet her on the forbidden side of the table and a shiver runs up my spine. It’s kind of like a kid getting a peek into Santa’s workshop. Wow, I’ve really built this thing up in my head. “What’s going on?”

“I thought you might like to be my apprentice this year,” she says.

“Oh?” I’m not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, I’ve been dying to know how she does it all. On the other hand, I was really hoping to draw a name and get my happy-ever-after. Will I still find my true love if I can’t participate?

“You still need to participate if you want that rent waived,” she says, as if she can hear my silently shouted fears. “But if you have some time this morning, I’d love to show you the ropes. This will be my last year running the event. I’d hate for it to go away in the future. It’s been such a success.”

Yeah, it has . “I don’t have a lot of work due right now.” I purposefully wrapped up most of my current projects so I could take some time off over the holidays. “I’m free for a while.”

“Oh good! So, you’ll do it?”

I eye a metal bucket filled with wooden tokens. I’ve often wondered how many numbers are in there. Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me, but I’m pretty sure there are more tokens than gift bags. Oh, I have so many questions.

“I’ll do it.”

Grandma squeezes me in a hug, her grip surprisingly strong. “This makes me so happy.”

“But I still get to draw a name?”

“You get to go first,” she says, holding out the bucket to me.

Looking away from the bucket—I don’t want to risk cheating. Not that I even know how to cheat at this—I dip my hand into the sea of wooden tokens. I don’t want to rush this very important step, so I take my time combing through the options until one settles in my palm. My hand tingles.

Overactive imagination or fate?

Fate . Definitely fate.

“Nine,” Grandma says, her expression glowing.

“Now you just match the number to the gift bag, right?”

“First, dear, you must fill out this questionnaire. It’s the most important step of the entire process. Remember that when you’re the one handing them out.”

I scan the list of random questions that might’ve been pulled out of a first date questionnaire. First car: 2004 Oldsmobile Alero . Have you been arrested: no arrests to date . Okay, there was that one time I almost got arrested. Doesn’t count . I keep scanning the questions and scrawling quick answers. Favorite Christmas tradition: The annual tree lighting ceremony.

I glance up with a couple questions to go. “What’s this for, anyway?”

“To help plan an even better event next year.”

“Why do you need to know if I’ve committed any felonies?”

“Would you want a convicted felon to be your Secret Santa?” Grandma holds out a silver and gold gift bag with glittery green polka dots to me. The number nine dangles from a tag. “We’ll go over the questionnaires when the event is over. It’ll make more sense then.”

OMG. This is it. The moment I find out who my true love is. Fingers shaking just a bit, I start to open my gift bag, but Grandma clamps a hand on my wrist.

“Don’t open it here.” Though her voice is still sweet as ever, there’s a firmness in her tone that I know better than to test. Lesson learned when The Asshat dared me to climb Grandma’s apple tree after she told us not to. Huh. Where did that memory come from?

Grandma squeezes my wrist, refocusing me back to the moment. “Everything you need is inside the bag. You must emphasize that the rules are very important. Especially rule number one.”

“Which is?”

“Not to share your name with anyone . Not a soul.”

“Not even you?” I find this hard to believe, because she should already know who I got.

“Not even me.”

“You really don’t know?—”

The door to the community center opens, and my heart gently pounds. This is it. It’s beginning.