Stealth Storee.
Quick Storee.
Invisible Storee.
I must stay out of sight—my life depends on it!
Because I didn’t have enough all-black items, I’m wearing Aunt Cindy’s black winter fisherman’s hat, her black scarf wrapped around my neck and forehead, and her gloves with the fur on the wrists. I tried sunglasses but realized it would be far too dark for me to see anything, so I took those off.
I tug on the scarf, tightening it to make sure it doesn’t unravel, and then I head to the corner of the yard where the loose fence plank is located.
I’m on a mission, and it’s to save Christmas!
Well, save Christmas from being stolen by a conniving, tricky man who’s toying with the hearts of people in town to win him favor—and yes, I know, I was doing the same thing with Aunt Cindy, but this could be Aunt Cindy’s last Christmas, we don’t know…the broken hip could very well send her to an early grave—as she put it.
And sure, the doctor doesn’t think that’s the case, but we have to live this Christmas as if it’s her last. So…if that means using her toour advantage when it comes to these competitions, then yes, we’re going to make her look frail and wheel her around with a blanket over her lap.
“Okay, she said it was the third plank from the corner,” I whisper to myself. Thankfully the glaring bulbs Taran hung on the house offer some light to the back corner of the yard—not enough to reveal myself, but enough that I can find the loose plank and easily pull it up. I glance at the slot I’m supposed to squeeze myself through and then down at my body.
Has Aunt Cindy lost her mind?
This is only about four inches wide. My thigh is not going to fit through this, let alone my ass.
Jesus.
I put the plank back down and then rest my hands on my hips. Looks like plan B is in order.
I tiptoe down toward the front of the fence to the gate, my feet crunching in the snow. This godforsaken white stuff, does it not ever melt?
I pause when I reach the gate and slow my breathing as I listen for anyone who might be outside. When all I hear is the wind whipping through the trees, I unlock the gate and attempt to pull it open, but because of the snow, it doesn’t budge.
“For the love of God,” I mutter and then bend down and start scooping snow away from the gate.
Immediately, my hands turn to ice since I’m wearing cotton gloves for better finger dexterity and not water-resistant ones. But I’m determined. There’s no way I can let Cole take the W on this, not when our display looks so clinical.
Freaking Taran.
I continue to shovel and kick snow away until I can open the gate just wide enough to slip through. I stand next to the fence and adjust the tightness of my scarf as I glance around the neighborhood. Paula andPeach should be making their way over here any time now, which means I need to move quickly and get the job done.
Back at the fence, I plaster my body against it and move around the corner, leading me right into Cole’s yard and the magnificent display of lights he and Max created. Of course they did a good job. They’re two hunky men who aren’t afraid to fall off a snow-covered roof. Whereas Taran convinced me it would be more elegant to stay off the roof and really focus on the gutters. I think I was so tired of fighting with her that I just went with it.
Big mistake.
Now look what I have to do—schlep around in the freezing cold, my fingers about to fall off from frostbite, with a ridiculous scarf dangling over my line of sight, tempting me to make a fool of myself.
Not my ideal evening.
I eye the lights in front of me, hoping they are just dim enough they don’t give me away as I look to my right, then to my left. The coast is clear. Light as a feather—well, in my head I tell myself that—I spring across the crunchy snow to a large, prickly bush that I bear-hug, attempting to camouflage myself against the dark leaves.
Oof. I can tell this bush does not want to bear-hug me back.
I have branches poking me in the nose, in the hip, and right in the chest. If it wasn’t for my puffy coat, I would say this bush is trying to cop a feel.
Despite the handsy bush, I focus and assess my next move.
This mission will only be successful if I reach the lights at the front of the house, so I shimmy along the bush, taking a branch right to the old crotch, and I have to hold in my startled yelp while I jut my ass away.
The way I must look…
