Unholy Knights (Forever Safe Christmas Village)

CHAPTER 1

MISSY MISTLETOE

It’s finally Christmas! It’s my time to shine and the time of year I feel most alive. I firmly believe that there is palpable magic in the air between the Friday after Thanksgiving and January 2nd. This year is my year, I can feel it. I bounce into the Christmas party thrown by my best friend Anna’s new boyfriend, Chris. I’m so excited. What could be better than a Christmas party? In Candy Cane Center, my home away from home. Candy Cane Center is an adorable Christmas Village nestled in Celebration, Florida. Just outside of Orlando, we are busy year-round. We offer inexpensive family fun activities that people utilize after spending tons of money at the nearby theme parks. We offer kiddie rides, Santa Claus, as well as all the trimmings you’d expect to find in a Christmas village, except for the snow. My family owns and operates the center’s shipping center. We also handle all of the charity initiatives the center participates in. This is the first year my mom is letting me handle the Angel Tree donations. It’s our biggest undertaking of the year and I just hope I don’t fuck it up. There are thirty children depending on this in order to have any Christmas at all. My parents are just as Christmas Crazy as I am. We decorate early and leave it all up until mid-January. Scanning the room, I spot Anna over by the DJ. She’s dressed like a sexy Mrs. Claus. I should have dressed up. My t-shirt is worn, and my jeans have holes in the knees. My Converse have seen better days. I look like a slob compared to Anna, my Amazonian goddess bestie.

“Hey, Anna!” I shout over the loud Christmas music. The DJ is playing Justin Bieber’s Christmas Love, and he’s turned into a techno/dance situation, but it’s not terrible.

“Hey, girl. Welcome. Have you had a drink yet?”

“Not yet. I just got here.” I look around the room. My skin sizzles and I know something is about to happen.

“You have got to try the signature cocktail, The Christmas Margarita. I’ve had four already,” she says, giggling.

“Oh, I will,” I tell her. She flits off and I smile. Mr. Jerry, the seventy year old postman of Candy Cane Center catches my eye and waves me over. His wife of fifty-five years passed away earlier this year. He’s not the same man he was last year, but that’s to be expected.

“Hi Mr. Jerry,” I say, accepting the hug he gives me.

“Merry Christmas, Missy.”

“You too! Are you having a good time?”

“Oh, it’s better now.”

“You’re such a charmer,” I say.

“I try.”

He looks so sad. I wonder what it would be like to be so in love. To be so in love that you can barely function when the other person dies. While I don’t want to think too much about that part of it, I still want to be in love. Walking over to the bar set up in the corner, I order a Christmas Margarita and down it. Then I order another.

My mama once told me that if I want love, I have to find love. In my slightly intoxicated state, I decide there’s only one way that’s going to happen. Excitedly, I move around the room and start kissing guys I know are single. Why? Because I’m Missy Mistletoe and if you can’t enjoy having a name like Missy Mistletoe, what’s the point of living? Suddenly, I feel eyes on me, okay pretty much everyone is staring at me, but this is different. This is more intense.

“Hey Missy. Long time no see. What have you been up to?” Jason Klein, a guy I went to high school with asks after I kiss him. Ugh. If I had realized it was him, I never would have kissed him. He doesn’t know how to talk about anything but himself. “I’ve been in real estate,” he says, not giving me a chance to answer him. Typical. I wonder how I am going to extricate myself from him, when I feel a large, warm hand wrap around my upper arm. Before I can say anything, I am wrenched around, coming face to face with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. He’s tall, blonde and has intense green eyes. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would be wearing a Santa hat, but the fact that he is makes him endearing.

“You shouldn’t go around kissing strange men. It’s not safe,” he reprimands me. His voice is low and growl. Before I can say anything in my defense, he lowers his lips to mine and kisses me. Holy shit. This isn’t anything like the chaste kisses I’ve planted on a couple of unsuspecting guys tonight. This magical kiss makes my blood boil and my pussy flood. Holy shit.