Cotton sheets, and my normal nightgown, remind me that the dream world is just that, a dream. Although I can’t help but wish it was real this time. The beastly man who led me around his palace under the mountain makes me wish I had a man of my own to lead me around beautiful gardens somewhere.
I enjoy the time I get to spend at my parents’ house, but it’s really nice to be back in my kitchen with my fancy coffeemaker. This morning I really need to make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on food for the week.
Once I’ve finished breakfast, I head out on a short run and then it’s time for me to get ready for the store. I call Huxlee to let her know I won’t be at work today to have time to get myself set up for the week. She tells me to have fun and she’ll see me back at work.
Maybe I’ll stop by the bookstore and snag myself something to read. My dream last night reminded me I haven’t read a good book in a while, maybe one of my favorite authors has released something new recently.
I’m washing my hands when I realize I have a cut on my hand. It’s in the exact same place as the one I got from the rose in my dream last night. I probably just scraped it on something and don’t remember. I’m constantly finding bruises and scrapes I don’t remember getting.
My phone rings and makes me jump. I walk into my room to grab it from my nightstand where I left it last night. The number on the caller ID isn’t one I recognize. “Hello?”
“Callie? It’s Mason. I hope you don’t mind. I ran into your mom today and asked for your number.”
That little scheming mother of mine is going to get a piece of my mind, or not. I know she loves me and that’s why she’s interfering. “Oh, hey, how are you?” Considering I just saw him yesterday, I’d assume about the same as the last time I left him. But hey, who knows?
“I’m good. Thanks for asking. You?”
“Same,” I respond, because really, we did just see each other yesterday afternoon.
“Well, look, I was calling because I just so happen to have some business in your neck of the woods today, and I thought I’d stop by. Since your mom said you’d gone back home last night, I thought I might see if you wanted to go grab lunch?”
“Lunch? I eat lunch.” I smack my forehead at my stupidity. Of course I eat lunch, what kind of idiot doesn’t eat lunch? I’ve certainly never been one to miss a meal.
“Great, meet you at twelve at The Grill downtown?”
“Absolutely, I love that place! Their burgers are amazing!”
We say our “See you laters” and I rush to finish getting ready. I have plenty of time to make it to the store and home before I need to meet him for lunch, but I don’t want to look rushed when I get there, either.
My phone rings again and it’s my mom calling. “Hey, Mom.” I keep a neutral tone in my voice. While I’m slightly irritated she just handed my number out to some guy she had never truly met before, I do love her.
“Hey, honey, I wanted to let you know I gave that cute guy from the sleigh ride your number today. He seemed pretty bummed you’d left last night.” At least she recognized him and didn’t just give it to a complete stranger.
“I know, he already called. He’s gonna be in town today. We’re grabbing lunch.”
“You didn’t tell us you’d run into him again yesterday.” Maybe because I didn’t want to have this exact conversation.
“Must have slipped my mind when I was packing up my car.” Yeah, let’s go with that one.
“Give this one a chance, will you, Callie? I’m not getting any younger and I need some more grandbabies!” Not the grandbaby guilt trip again, good grief. My brothers are like fucking rabbits and yet, I still get guilt-tripped.
“Mom, I just met him. In fact, he just got out of a relationship.” In front of the entire town, I don’t add.
“Callie, clearly it wasn’t serious, or he wouldn’t be asking for your number a couple of days later.”
“Mom…”
“Callie,” she lowers her voice, like she’s admonishing me. I’m immediately five years old again and getting caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “Just remember to give him a chance. Remember, I met your dad right after he broke up with a girlfriend and look how that turned out!”
I can’t help but laugh at the reminder. But I’m also tired of her pressuring me to get married. Some people just aren’t supposed to be with someone. And really, what are the odds that I would end up married under the same circumstances my parents did?
I’ve dreamed of my husband, wedding, and kids since I was a kid. At one point, I even made a scrapbook with pictures I cut out of my mom’s magazines. My brothers made fun of me endlessly for it.
As I got older, though, it felt like a distant dream. Then more like an impossibility. Throughout high school and college I would date but, no one was ever the right guy. No one ever clicked with me. I could absolutely never see myself long term with any of the boys I grew up with, or met in college.
Once I started working, it just felt like I didn’t have the time or opportunity to meet anyone. I am 100% against dating apps—gross. Seems like a better way to meet a serial killer than a future spouse.
“If it’s meant to be, it will be, Mom. I don’t think either of us wants me marrying the wrong guy. Marriage is forever, right?” Immediately, I roll my eyes. Isn’t the divorce rate like fifty percent?
“Of course, honey. You’ll let me know how it goes, right?” I roll my eyes at her eagerness.
“I’ll call you later,” I say, intentionally not promising her every detail. Some things I’d rather just keep to myself.
* * *
I’m rushing through the grocery store since my mom took more of my time than I would have liked. Once I’ve reached the checkout, I feel like I finally have a chance to breathe. It’s not until this moment I realize I’ve left my purse at home.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I just realized I left my purse at home,” I tell the cashier. She looks at me with a pitying look. I hate that look.
“We can keep your stuff for you in the walk-in until tomorrow morning, honey. Do you think you can get back by then?”
“I’ve got it,” I hear from over my shoulder. Immediately, I recognize the voice and hang my head in shame. Of course, I would run into him here before our lunch date.
“No, Mason,” I turn and respond to him. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes,” I say to the cashier as I walk out the front door.
Footsteps and the sound of a cart’s wheels behind me a moment later make me turn around again. Mason smiles at me, pushing my cart of food. I am beyond embarrassed at the turn of events. How the fuck did I leave my purse at home? This has never happened to me before, and it sure as shit won’t be happening to me again.
“Please don’t be mad at me.” His eyes and smile have an apology written all over them.
“I’m not mad, Mason. This has never happened to me before and I am beyond embarrassed it happened in front of you.” Seriously, I can feel the heat in my cheeks, which means they are probably blazing red right now.
“It’s no big deal, really. More selfish on my part. I was hoping I could hang out with you more before lunch?”
The sly smile he gives me makes my heart flip over in my chest. It’s been a long time since I’ve been out with someone so damn charming. The last guy I dated was nothing to write home about, that’s for sure.
He helps me load my groceries into the back of my car, then gets in his own to follow me home.
* * *
When we get to my house, he helps me unload the groceries from my car and put them away in the cabinets. I have to point him to where everything goes, but he does his best and thankfully is well mannered enough to not just open every single one of my cabinets in his search. We talk the entire time, and I’ve never found conversation so easy with anyone before.
“So, Callie, what do you do for work?” he asks. And really, I think it’s funny we haven’t talked about things like that and yet we haven’t lacked for conversation.
“I work in a bookstore, stocking shelves, helping with customers, and spending my days reading and enjoying stories.” I have liked it more than pretty much every job I’ve ever had. Every time I talk about my job, I talk faster, more excited, my hands gesticulating as I do. I love what I do.
“Really? Sounds like you’re pretty passionate about it.”
“I’ve always loved books, getting lost in a story, getting to spend one day as a servant who falls in love with the master of the house, the next day riding on the back of a dragon and learning magic.”
“So, a little romance, a little fantasy?”
“And a little of everything else, too. I’m an equal opportunity reader.” I wink at him and start giggling.
He smiles the biggest smile I’ve seen from him. His dimples are especially prominent on his clean-shaven face. I’m a sucker for a man with dimples.
“What do you say we have food delivered instead? I’m enjoying the company and I would hate to have to fight to be heard over the sounds in the restaurant.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. I think SpeedyDelivery delivers The Grill here.”
Quickly, we place our order using the app on my phone. When I’m exiting out of the app, I decide to shoot off a quick text to the Besties Group Chat while I continue talking to Mason while we wait for the food.
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I look up when Mason clears his throat and quickly tuck my phone back into my pocket. “You know, I’ve heard people around Jackson say that your parents’ house is the talk of the town when it comes to Christmas decorations. Why does your house look so…” He trails off.
I can’t help but laugh. “Well, if you must know, I helped my parents decorate while I was in town. I haven’t had a chance to get my tree yet.” Glancing around, I realize how few personal items I have in my house. I really need to remedy that.
“I could help, if you want?” He looks at me like he really wants to.
“Sure, if you don’t mind following me around the Christmas tree lot for hours while I find the perfect tree.” Because really, I am very picky when it comes to picking out my tree.
“How perfect are we talking?” He leans in closer to me in interest, then his brown eyes move to my lips and I hold my breath. It’s been a while since I’ve kissed anyone, or wanted to kiss anyone, in real life at least. My mind wanders back to the warmth of the beast as his arm wrapped around me from behind. The feel of his fingers in my hair while I wished he would kiss me just last night.
Slowly, I lean forward. He brings his hand up to rest on the side of my neck, and I feel a jolt. Butterflies start to go crazy in my stomach and I glance away. My eyes move around the room. How is it I’ve never felt a jolt until the last couple of days and now it’s happened with two different men, one in real life, the other in my dreams?
“Everything okay?”
“I… don’t know.” A knock on the door saves me from my thoughts. I pull away from him, stand, and make my way to the door, greeting the delivery driver and grabbing cash from my wallet for a tip. “Thank you,” I say as he leaves.
We divide the food between us. Mason ordered a spicy burger and French fries. I got a mushroom burger and sweet potato fries, my favorite. Biting into the juicy burger, a moan escapes me and Mason glances over at me before quickly taking a bite of his burger.
* * *
When we’ve finished lunch, I shoot off a quick text to the Besties.
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I shove my phone into the front pocket of my purse before we bundle into our winter gear to head to the tree lot. I’ve been using my fake tree for a couple of years now. It will be nice to have the scent of a real Christmas tree in here again. It is a bit of a pain to dispose of it by myself at the end of the season, though.
It takes a couple of hours to look, but I find the perfect tree for my house. I let Mason have the pleasure of chopping it down. This is my favorite kind of Christmas tree lot, the ones where you get to pick and chop down your own tree. That way, you know it’s extra fresh.
Once we’re done at the tree lot, we strap the tree to the top of my car and drive back to my house. We wrestle the tree inside and I drag him back out for one more important Christmas tradition.
“We just need to stop at the store for a minute,” I say.
He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Weren’t you just at the store?”
“Well, yes, but not this store.” I grin and I walk back out to my car, waiting for him to climb into the passenger seat.
We enter the store and see every decoration, wrapping tools, and supplies one could need or want for Christmas. I make my way to the ornament section and think back on my year. What is something I want to remember from this year for years to come?
I’ve looked through most of the aisle when I see it, a tiny wooden chest. I also grab a second one that looks like a tiny journal. It feels like some weird kind of fate.
“These are perfect.” I beam up at him, and we make our way to the register.
“I’m glad you found them. What are they for, exactly?”
“Putting on the tree, silly.” He gives me an expression that could only mean duh. I decide to throw him a bone and explain, “In my family, we have a tradition every Christmas. We pick a special ornament that represents something monumental that happened to us during the year.”
“A chest and a book?”
“It’s personal.” I’m not ready to share this new part of my life with anyone yet, let alone someone I’ve barely known for a few days.
Back at the house, as soon as I’ve removed my coat and gloves, I pull my phone out to let the Besties know I’m safe.
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Setting my phone on an end table, he helps me pull all my boxes of decorations down from the attic. It’s nice to have a second person to help me this time. I usually do all of this by myself, sliding the boxes down the attic stairs and hoping they don’t break at the bottom. It’s so much easier with a second person to catch—and less destructive.
I always start my tree decorating with lights and any garlands I plan to use this year. A different colored strand of lights in each hand, I turn and let Mason choose the color scheme for this year.
Once the lights and garland have been hung, I carefully pull out each of my specially chosen annual ornaments. I place them on the tree at perfectly-spaced intervals. I’m a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to decorating for Christmas. A few years ago, I picked up some colored and sparkly ornaments to fill in my tree the rest of the way, since my ornament collection does not quite rival the one my parents have.
Standing back, I check around the tree to make sure I have left no large ornament free gaps in the foliage. Satisfied, I take a step back and look at the tree from further back.
The last ornaments I place on the tree are the ones to represent this year. These I place right at the front so I can see them and remember this year’s weird special moment.
Finally, I pull out my star tree-topper. Since I don’t want to pull out the stepladder, I try to hand it to Mason. “Would you like to do the honors?”
He looks at me shocked. “You’d give me the honor of topping your tree? You just met me.”
“It’s that or go grab the stool.” I shrug.
“Come here,” he motions with his hand for me to come to him.
Still holding the star in my hand, I move to him, unsure of what’s coming.
“Turn around,” he gently grasps my shoulders and turns me around to face the tree. “I’m going to count to three and I want you to jump.”
“What?” I turn and look at him, pretty sure he’s lost his damn mind.
“Will you just do it?”
I turn around and wait for him to count.
“One, two”—he places his hands on either side of my waist—“jump.” As I do, he helps to lift me up to place the star on top of the tree. He carefully lowers me down, my back gliding down his body. I hold my breath as I feel him against me. Those damn butterflies in my stomach fly all around and my spine tingles everywhere we make contact. Safely back on the ground, he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. “Why don’t we turn it on?” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm against my cheek at the close proximity.
I move away from him toward the plug, illuminating the tree and brightening up the room. My body returns to normal at the loss of contact. I don’t know if I should feel relieved or disappointed.
“Wow! Do you go all out every year?” He spins in a circle, observing the room we’ve been decorating for the last couple of hours.
“Christmas is my favorite holiday.” I shrug. “I can’t help but decorate my house every year, just like I grew up with. It helps me get into the Christmas spirit. And I love watching the lights as they flicker and glow when I sit on the couch at night with my tea and a good book.”
“That’s nice,” he has a wistful tone in his voice.
“What traditions does your family have?”
“I don’t remember my family.” He looks away, seemingly ashamed of this.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I don’t want to pry but, his response makes me want to ask so many questions. Questions I have no right to have answers to. I’ve only known this man for a few days.
After several moments, he finally speaks. “Do you ever feel you’ve lived entire lifetimes in the span of moments? Or maybe you feel you’ve met someone before, in another lifetime? Or maybe it feels like déjà vu.”
This feels deep for our third day knowing each other. But somehow, I know exactly what he’s talking about. “I know what you mean. I’ve been having these baffling dreams lately that feel so real. In fact, I woke up this morning with a cut on my hand exactly like I got in the dream. I’m such a klutz, though. I must have injured myself before bed and just don’t remember it.”
“I have to go,” he abruptly says, moving away from me. I’m so startled by his sudden need to leave, I feel like I’ve said something wrong.
“I’m sorry to have offended you.” I can’t keep the disappointed tone out of my voice.
“What are you talking about?”
“I feel like you’re leaving because of something I said…” I look down at my feet, dejected and wondering what I could have possibly said to make him leave, at the same time feeling I don’t have the right to feel this way. It’s stupid how quickly I’ve started to fall for this guy.
“I’ll talk to you soon.” He pauses. “I want you to remember, looks can be deceiving.”
“What does that even mean?” I cross my arms, huffing in agitation.
He stands at the door, holding it open, one foot outside my house already. “Goodbye, Callie.”
Well, that was ominous and confusing. “Bye, Mason.”
In an attempt to clear my head, I send off a text to Jen.
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