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

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

PIPER

As the first official participant arrives at the community center to draw a name for the Secret Santa event, I tuck my gift bag into the holiday tote I lovingly call a purse and slip it under the table. I want to appear as professional as possible, despite how hard my heart is pounding with the combination of nerves and excitement.

Grandma nods at the newcomer. “Give it a go, dear.” I send her a nervous glance, and she adds, “I’ll be right here to help you. But you’re ready.”

Thankfully, the first person to show up is Addison, one of my four-flex neighbors and close friends. I let out a silent sigh of relief. It helps take some of the pressure off. But then I remember that she was personally invited too. This matters more than Addison realizes.

“Addison, hey!” I wave at her, perhaps a little too eagerly. Be cool, Piper. I drop my hand. “Guess who’s in training?”

Addison’s gaze bounces between Grandma and me.

“I’m retiring after this season,” Grandma explains, holding a clipboard out to Addison. Oops, already forgot the most important step. Focus Piper. “Piper’s going to take over.”

“Retiring?” Addison looks as though she just swallowed sour milk.

“I’m not moving away,” Grandma says, calming an internal fear I hadn’t even considered. “Or selling the four-plex.” She’s the only family I have left in Alpine Valley. My parents moved to Rhode Island two summers ago, after my younger sister left for college abroad. It’s been just the two of us ever since.

“Oh, good.” Addison’s relief seems a little excessive, but I’m not here to question her emotions. I’m here to help her through this process and prove I’m capable of handling the event next year. She asks, “How does this whole thing work, anyway?”

“You draw a number from this bucket,” I explain, holding it out to her.

“A number?”

“Yeah. There’re gift bags on the back table with numbers. You won’t know your name until you pull it out of the bag.”

With the clipboard in one hand, Addison reaches into the bucket and blindly chooses a wooden token. She shows it to Grandma and me. Seventeen .

“Oh, seventeen. A good number indeed,” Grandma says, taking the chip from Addison. She catches my gaze and nods toward the clipboard, directing me to encourage Addison along. I hand over a pen and wonder if Addison is as confused as I was by the random assortment of questions. I can’t imagine how knowing my favorite Christmas present will aid in next year’s event. But I trust Grandma Wilma has a plan she’ll reveal to me later.

“Do you really need to know if I’ve been arrested?” Addison asks, circling no three times with the red pen.

“Can’t be too careful,” Grandma says.

Addison shrugs, and continues filling out the questions. “What’s my favorite Christmas cookie? Do we get cookies?”

“Piper, you got this one?” Grandma asks.

I lean over the table, pointing at the top question. “We’ll use the answers next year. To help us—or I guess help me —better plan the event. To give us more ideas and things like that.” I’m totally winging it, since that’s all the information Grandma gave me ahead of time. “I know it seems silly, but go ahead and fill it out. There’s nothing top secret in there, promise!”

Addison makes quick work of the questions, and hands over the clipboard when finished. “There.”

I give the survey a quick scan. Satisfied that it’s filled out in its entirety, I turn to Grandma to ask if the bags on the back table are in order, only to find a green and white striped gift bag in front of me. The glittery number seventeen dangles from its handle. Guess I’ll learn that step later. I offer it up to Addison.

My friend starts to dig in, but I cover my hand with hers before she can get a hold of anything inside. “I recommend waiting until you’re alone.”

“Why?”

“Rule number one,” Grandma chimes in. “You can’t tell anyone whose name you drew. Including us.”

“But don’t you need to know since?—”

A door slams, and all three of us snap our attention toward the culprit. A tall, dark-haired man in a snow-dusted jacket struts into the room like he owns the damn place.

WTF…The Asshat.

My heart pounds violently in my chest, the mixture of emotions too extreme to separate. Eli Winchester sports an all-too-familiar smug grin as he says, “Sorry about that, ladies.”

“Can we help you?” I practically growl the words, like some feral animal ready to attack. Considering the last time I saw him, he promised we’d run away together— liar !—I don’t even attempt to dial it back. The Asshat skipped town without so much as a goodbye eleven years ago.

“I believe you can,” he says, his words directed at me. Any hint of shock in those dark brown eyes quickly dissipates. The smooth, bad boy twinkle dances in his gaze, taunting me. There was a time when that twinkle could convince me to make some very bad decisions. Don’t even pretend you regret anything. I feel a blush creep up my neck.

“You need to leave,” I spit the words at him like daggers.

“Piper,” Grandma’s gentle tone has a warning edge to it. It’s enough to widen my gaze beyond Eli, and I notice that not only has Addison left, but three other Alpine Valley residents have entered the room in her place. This would not be an ideal time or place to cause a scene.

“Why don’t you take a short break,” Grandma insists, making a shooing motion with both hands to urge me away.

“Right, okay.”

“I’ll handle this. Ladies, I’ll be right with you. Eli, condolences on your loss. How can I help you?”

Grandma’s words blur in my brain as I snatch my purse from under the table, nearly tossing the gift bag out in the process. I focus all my energy on the bag, refusing to look back at the man who broke my heart all those years ago. Determination to find my true love this Christmas has increased tenfold, if only to rub it in Eli’s smug face.

I slip out the side door and follow a narrow hallway as far away from the main event room as possible. I don’t stop until I find an empty meeting room on the opposite end of the building. After flipping the deadbolt so I can’t be followed, I drop my purse onto a table and fall into a chair.

My body shakes from the sudden jumble of emotions: surprise, anger, resentment, hurt. Plus half a dozen more I’ve yet to identify.

“It doesn’t matter that Eli’s back in town,” I tell the little gift bag, focusing on its glittery green dots. In this bag, the name of my true love awaits. And there’s nothing Eli Winchester can do to fuck that up for me. This gift bag contains my Christmas miracle, dammit. “It’s not like he’ll stay long anyway. It’s not like he cares about Alpine Valley.” Or me.

I gently dump the contents out onto the round table, discovering a sparkly green business card-sized card face down.

“This is it.” I take a deep breath and flip it over.

My heart plummets into my toes.

Either there’s been a horrible mistake or Santa is playing the cruelest of jokes on me this Christmas. Because the card contains the name of the last man on earth I’d ever marry:

Eli Winchester .