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

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

PIPER

“You seem extra cheerful today,” Becky Sue, one of the bakery employees, playfully accuses as she slides the bag of snickerdoodle cookies across the counter to me. “ Everyone is so cheerful lately,” she adds in a murmur, not bothering to hide her smile. “Must be something in the air.”

“Christmas magic?” I sheepishly suggest, feeling a blush creep up my neck. I haven’t had an orgasm that great in a long time. I should be scanning the bakery for my potential true love, but right now, finding a nice, boring guy feels…forced. Like a chore I really don’t want to do. And just plain…unexciting. Despite Eli becoming an accountant, what happened in my kitchen this morning proves that the bad boy I fell in love with all those years ago is still alive and well.

He's just more…grown up. Mature. Confident. Sexy?—

“Expecting someone?”

“No…”

“You’re just really fascinated with the door?” she teases.

“I need to get these cookies to Grandma,” I say, as though that explains everything, waving a goodbye as I go.

Dammit, I really have been watching the door for Eli.

Never mind that he’s at Roy’s house meeting with the realtor, which is why we had to cut the afternoon short.

The tiny fact that he’s selling his uncle’s house and not asking me to be there proves he’s not staying. It’s not like he’s secretly looking at houses to buy or anything.

So why is my chest fluttering with hope? Why am I so antsy, wishing it were already tomorrow morning so we’d be together, headed to the animal shelter to make another donation?

I can’t fall for him. Not again.

“I know better,” I say to myself as I pass the park and make a left turn onto Grandma’s street. The grand evergreen tree in the center of the community park is…bare. Odd. Usually the tree lighting ceremony happens a good week before Christmas. There should be volunteers decked out in elf costumes all over the tree. Frank Wilbur is usually up a too tall ladder, stringing garland while Wanda Perkins holds it steady with a white knuckle grip.

A minute later, I pull into the driveway of Grandma’s house and all of my errant thoughts melt away. My world shifts on its axis and I’m a teenager all over again; sitting on my Grandma’s porch swing while the tears flow and she makes hot chocolate.

Eli. Everything keeps coming back to Eli.

I know better than to get swept away when it comes to the bad boy who broke my heart. At least I do this time. Eli may have given me one helluva orgasm this morning, but that doesn’t mean anything’s changed. Drawing his name for the Secret Santa doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together. His life is in the city. As soon as he’s donated the last of his uncle’s money, he’ll pack his bags and jet right out of town again without a second thought.

Christmas is only three days away. I’ve mostly caught up on my Secret Santa duties, aside from finding the perfect gift for him. What was Grandma thinking? Putting a price limit on the gift. I’m having a hard time staying within the twenty-five dollar limit.

It did occur to me, sometime after my orgasm brain settled, that I should be learning more about the event I’m going to take over next year. Participation can only take me so far. I have questions. So many questions.

And I desperately need a distraction where Eli Winchester is concerned.

“Piper, what a pleasant surprise. Come in!”

Grandma’s house smells like freshly baked poppy seed bread and… pie ? The bread is my favorite Christmas treat. “Baking today?” I hold up my gift in offering, hoping she hasn’t made a batch of cookies yet. If I’m lucky, the snickerdoodles might be enough to entice her to make a trade for a loaf of that delicious, sweet bread.

“Just some pies for the food bank.”

“Just pies?” I ask, twisting to try and see past her to the cooling racks just beyond the pies on her dining room table.

“Maybe some poppy seed bread.”

“Aha, I knew it!”

“It’s just some Christmas baking.”

“I thought we might chat about the Secret Santa event over cookies,” I say, handing the bag to her.

“Oh?” Her eyes light up when she opens the bag and realizes they’re her favorite kind.

“You said there was a bunch of behind the scenes things.” I follow her into the kitchen, surprised by the number of pies that cover the counter. Damn, Grandma’s been busy. “Plus, I have a few questions. Wow. Are these all for the food bank?”

“I may have made an extra one.”

“I’m sure they’ll be really happy to receive these.”

“Say, a little birdy told me the food bank received a sizable donation earlier today. One that’ll ensure all the families in need will have plenty to eat over the holidays. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Eli.”

“Ah.”

“He’s been donating the money his uncle left to him.” I bite my lip, cutting myself short, before I confess that I’ve definitely fulfilled the “spend time with him” Secret Santa rule. The last thing I want to do is break Rule Number One: tell no one.

“What a lovely gesture.”

I nod, feeling my color rise a bit at the thought of how we’ve been spending our time together. I mean, it’s not just been of the hot and bothered variety. I have been getting to know more about his life. Like how he decided to go back to college after he turned twenty-one to get his accounting degree and finished in two years. I heckle him for being a total nerd, but the truth is, his intelligence only makes him hotter.

Grandma Wilma brings a fresh loaf of bread over to the counter where I’m sitting, knife raised to slice, when she pauses to look at me. “What’s wrong sweetie?”

“How do you know if people follow the rules?”

“Pardon?”

“For the Secret Santa event. How do you know if someone, say, spends the required time with their recipient? And what happens if they don’t? What if someone spends more than twenty five dollars on the gift? What happens if someone accidentally breaks rule number one? Not that I have! But what if someone accidentally slips and tells someone the name they drew? What are the consequences?”

“These are all great questions. We’ll get to them soon enough.” Grandma slides a dessert plate with three small slices of fresh poppy seed bread in front of me, along with a tub of butter. I’m suddenly glad I forgot to eat lunch. “Tell me how you spent your day.”

My day with Eli was packed full between the food bank, the toy drive, and the community center. “We ran out of time to stop by the animal shelter today, so we’ll do that tomorrow.”

“You two seem to be getting close,” Grandma says, alerting me to the fact that I said that last bit out loud. Her even tone betrays nothing. I can’t tell if she approves or if she’s worried about me. “Would you like some coffee to go with that poppy seed bread? I just put on a pot.”

“Sure.” Try as I may to savor the treat in front of me, the first buttered slice is gone in two bites. “Grandma, do you have something against Eli? I know he broke my heart and all. But that was a long time ago. I think he’s changed. At least, he’s matured.”

“I think he’s turned into a fine young man,” she says, filling two mugs of coffee.

“But?”

“But, there’s something you deserve to know.” She pours a generous amount of creamer into my cup, stirs it with a peppermint stick, and carries it to the table. She does the same for her cup and joins me. “I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say.”

Well, that sounds ominous.

“He did come for you. That night after the tree lighting. Just like he said he would.”

The coffee mug freezes halfway to my lips. “What?”

“I found out about your plan to run away together, and I…stopped it.”

I’m too stunned for words.

All this time, I thought Eli abandoned me.

I told myself he didn’t want me weighing him down. Because if it had been for any other reason, he would’ve come back for me. I waited for months after graduation, refusing to apply for college. Convinced that he’d return. When I finally gave up hope, I just wanted out of town. I just wanted to leave. Enlisting in the Army seemed like a good way to see the world, so I did.

“I won’t apologize for what I did,” Grandma says after I’ve had a moment to absorb the truth. “I wanted what was best for you, and Eli understood. That I commend him for. It wasn’t easy for him, but he did the right thing.”

It still doesn’t explain why he let eleven years go by without so much as an email. If Roy hadn’t passed away earlier this year, how much longer would he have stayed gone? “And now?” I ask her.

“Now you’re both full grown adults.” She pats my hand on the table. “You don’t need me to meddle in your lives.”

“Meddle?” The single word is a lighthearted accusation. Even if she’s tightlipped about some of the inner workings of her Secret Santa event, I strongly suspect she’s the mastermind behind it all. Meddling ought to be her middle name.

“I like Eli,” Grandma admits. “Honestly, I always have.”

I finish my poppy seed bread, feeling oddly…okay.

The betrayal or hurt I expect to feel at such news doesn’t gut-punch me. Maybe it’s because this explanation makes the most sense. It’s a piece of closure that’s been missing. Eli and I were in love.

Still are .

I quickly shake that thought away. What we have now is fun and familiar. But in a few days, Eli will return to his normal life, and I’ll stay behind in the little town that has come to mean so much to me.

“Do you want to talk about the questionnaire?” I ask, hopeful that I can distract myself from these troubling thoughts. If I start to get my hopes up that Eli might actually be my true love after all, I’m doomed just to get my heart broken again.

“Not tonight, dear. I need to see to these pies.”

“Need any help delivering them?”

“Thank you, but I have it handled.” She wraps a loaf of poppy seed bread and hands it over. “We’ll talk about the questionnaire another night, okay? You’ll come over for Christmas Eve dinner?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Bring Eli.” With a quick hug, she rushes me out the door. I nearly tease her about having a hot date, but the door closes in my face before I can. It’s only then I realize she didn’t answer a single question I had about the Secret Santa event.