Jingle Page 3

  “Oh!” I jump a little in my seat as the kitten leaps onto my lap. He rubs his little head against my stomach, purring a hushed, steady purr. “Well, hello,” I say, tickling him beneath his chin; he turns his big green eyes up toward my face.

  “Careful,” Silver says, smiling softly. “Don’t let that cuteness fool you. He looks like a troublemaker to me.”

  As if to prove her point, the kitten jumps onto the tabletop, stomps all over the plate of pie—leaving paw prints in the ice cream—and then sails back down to the floor, making a beeline for the Christmas tree.

  Before Silver or I can react, he’s scuttled beneath the tree and climbed it, all the way to top, by scurrying upward along the trunk and gripping hard with his sharp little nails. A rain of ornaments falls to the floor, clanking on the hardwood.

  “Oh, no, he’ll break them—”

  “It’s okay. They’re plastic,” Silver laughs, as we both abandon our ruined pie slices and rise to detangle the kitten from the tree. “My cat Jack was just like this when he was little. Loved the Christmas tree. Climbing it, batting it, chewing on the branches. That’s how I learned to never put anything breakable on the hooks.” She reaches past the tinsel and the lights and carefully pries the kitten from the pine. He complains but complies, curling against her chest; as she strokes him, he begins, again, to purr.

  “My heart still hasn’t recovered from losing Jack.” Standing by my side, shoulder to shoulder, she glances at me with a sad smile. “Cancer. God, that hurt worse than breaking up with Angela—and I’d been with Angela for ten years. I only had Jack for eight.”

  Angela…

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I mean, about Jack. I…I kind of know how you feel. When my girlfriend Tasha left me last year, she took our dog Bennie with her, and I’ve never stopped missing him. It’s weird. I even miss his snoring. It was soothing, I guess, just knowing he was nearby.”

  “That’s rough.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. I’m… Okay, I’m not over it yet, but I’m…” I look at her, and a blush steals over my cheeks. “I’m getting closer. A lot closer.”

  Silver holds my gaze.

  Then her mouth curves into that wide, slow, roguish smile.

  “Look up, Snow White.”

  Returning her smile suspiciously, I flick my gaze toward the ceiling—and my heart does a somersault in my chest. Because dangling from a red silk ribbon directly above my head is a sprig of mistletoe. “Oh…” I exhale, and my smile grows softer as my eyes flit over Silver’s face.

  “I swear I didn’t set this up,” she says, still smiling, though it’s a smaller, more earnest curve now. “I wasn’t in cahoots with the kitten or anything—right, kitten-without-a-name?” She makes the cat’s small head bob up and down, and I laugh softly.

  “Lily,” she whispers then, placing the kitten on the floor and, hands in her pockets, taking one step nearer to me, “I don’t know about you, but I’m kind of a traditional person—when it comes to the holidays, at least. I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with this year, so I rented this cabin to make myself feel like I was at a Christmas party. Kind of pathetic, now that I think about it.”

  “No, no, I get it,” I tell her quietly. This close, I breathe her scent in the air between us: sugar and vanilla, as sweet as her apple pie. “I was on my way up the mountain to my family’s cabin, where we celebrate Christmas every year. After my dad died, I started the tradition because…” My voice catches; I shake my head, blinking the tears away. “Because it’s important to have something stable, something lasting, you know. And something…soft,” I whisper, falling into her warm, intense eyes. My fingers reach for hers, weaving between them. “Something that makes you excited to wake up in the morning—”

  “Or someone,” Silver murmurs, drawing nearer, placing her hand on the small of my back as she presses her mouth against mine in a deep, comfortable, lingering kiss. My hands lock around her neck, and my hips push hard against hers as we stand connected, entangled for seconds that effortlessly turn into minutes…but feel timeless—like a moment, like forever.

  When we part, panting, Silver touches her forehead to mine and laughs gently. Between our feet, the kitten has sprawled with a bell ornament that fell from the tree. He’s batting it between his paws, making the ringer inside of the metal jingle loudly.

  “You were right,” I smile, kissing Silver again.

  “Right about what?” she asks against my mouth, teasing a finger beneath the hem of my sweater.

  “His name is Jingle. And…” I kiss her harder, and she melds against me, smiling as, over and over, our mouths collide. “I think this was fate.”

  Silver draws back to press her lips to the back of my hand. “Merry Christmas, Lily,” she whispers.

  Merry…

  I do feel merry.

  One year later, and I’m finally ready—for love, for life, for whatever comes after today. But right now, all I care about is this moment—and all of its sweet-as-sugar possibilities.

  Silver wraps her arm around my waist, and I tilt my head onto her shoulder; it fits there so naturally. Every second of this evening with her has felt like that: natural, right. Soft rather than sharp. Warm rather than frozen over… We gaze through the window together, watching the snow drifting down as Jingle rolls onto his back on the floor, ringing the little silver bell until it starts to sound like a song.

  The End

  The following is an excerpt from The Ghost of a Chance,a romantic novel by Natalie Vivien about a woman who learns to love again, available now! If you enjoyed “Jingle,” you will love The Ghost of a Chance!

  I bump open the swinging dining room door, balancing a tray of hors d’oeurves on one hand while gripping the neck of a chilled bottle of wine with the other. "Alis, where should I put these—" The wine nearly slips from my fingers and the tiny cucumber sandwiches slide all over the tray as my eyes fasten to Alis standing beside the picture window, her hands clasped lightly before her, her dark head piled with curls and tilted sweetly to the side.

  The sight of her, for a measureless moment, stills my heart.

  "Do I look all right?" She tugs at the narrow belt of her shimmering blue sheath, flicking uncertain glances in my direction. "I thought about buying something new, but then I remembered this dress… I got it years ago, for a party at Jason’s co-worker’s house, but Jason made me take it off before we left home. He said it looked cheap."

  "Jason’s an idiot." I swallow, meeting her questioning, hopeful gaze. "You look radiant, Alis. Beautiful."

  She laughs nervously, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "Well, I’ve always loved this color, but Jason—"

  "Forget Jason." I toss the tray to the sideboard beside the rest of the hors d’oeuvres and put the wine bottle on the dining table. The table looks festive, set with a white tablecloth, white china, and gold napkins, lined down the center with squat silver vases full of sumptuous red roses on a shimmering gold runner. The chandelier above, the room’s only illumination, throws flame-shaped, undulating shadows to the wine-colored walls.

  I move toward Alis and, breathing deeply, reach for her hands, my eyes lingering over the blue beauty of her curves.

  "Is it too much?" she whispers, staring down at our clasped fingers and anxiously stroking the back of my hand. "Should I change—"

  "Never change. This dress was made for you." My voice is low, and I try to smile at her, try to lighten the mood, but my lips won’t cooperate: they part, longing…and I take small breaths, unable to remove my gaze, unable to let go of her hands.

  "Darcy..."

  "Alis."

  "That was the doorbell. Just now. I think a guest has arrived."

  I blink, dazed, staring into her wide, bottomless blue eyes. "Doorbell?"

  "Didn’t you hear it?"

  I catch her scent in the space between us. A lush floral perfume. Jasmine, I think. "N
o. I didn’t—"

  But the doorbell rings again, and, for better or for worse, I do hear it this time. Our hands fall away as we fall away from each other, our eyes roaming the laden sideboard and the sparkling, expectant table, looking everywhere, at everything, except at one another.

  "I’ll get it," I say, gruff, turning to leave the room.

  "Darcy, wait."

  I glance at Alis over my shoulder, heart skipping, brain shrieking at me to go, to leave, to ignore my impulses and be rational, to remember Catherine.

  Alis smiles softly, shyly. "I just wanted to say—you look beautiful, too."

  I stare at her for a moment longer before flicking my gaze to my A-line dress—the red dress that Alis found in my closet months ago, the one I had refused to wear. Its neckline plunges daringly low, but I suppose I’m feeling daring tonight, careless. Reckless. It’s Christmas Eve, and my life is a ghostlike thing; none of this feels real, so I’ve begun to treat it all like a dream. In dreams, nothing matters. Nothing lasts. In dreams, the whole world vanishes the moment you open your eyes, and all that’s left is a weak remembrance of something once known, now forever lost.

  I breathe out, catching Alis’ eyes and smiling faintly. "Thank you."

  Find The Ghost of a Chance on Amazon!

  Also by Natalie Vivien:

  Drawn to You –Could you learn to love—and trust—again after suffering a painful betrayal? A novel, told in three parts, about two women who, after the course of one eventful week, realize they were meant to be together.

  Love Stories –Escape for an hour or two in the tender, passionate pages of Love Stories. In her first collection of lesbian romantic short stories, Natalie Vivien offers nine romantic tales of love found and broken hearts mended. Each story features a woman who finds herself altered--and empowered--by love.

  The Thousand Mile Love Story –Would you take a thousand mile road trip with your best friends…and the ex who broke your heart? A novel, told in three parts, about two women who fall in love all over again, and the funny mishaps a thousand mile road trip can bring.

  For the Love of Indiana –It all started with one crazy, disaster-prone dog… A funny, romantic novel, told in three parts about a very bad dog, and the two women he brings together!

  Falling for Hope: The Hope Stories Collection –A sweet, romantic series of stories about a group of women who go camping, and the two women who fall in love.

  More coming very soon!

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  About Author Natalie Vivien

  I live in the northeast in a small, colorful house with a few cats and dogs, my saintly wife, and more weeds in the garden than anyone should ever have to tackle. I have two great loves: my wife and writing, and I’m so grateful to be able to marry the two in the stories I write, about two women who have a connection, who fall deeply in love with one another.

  I’d love to hear from you! Send me an email at miss.Natalie.vivien@gmail.com You can also visit my site at http://natalievivien.wordpress.com

  I would appreciate, so much, if you would take a minute or two to leave a review on “Jingle,” and thank you so much for reading it! Please look out for my other releases, coming soon! Please sign up for my newsletter to be notified when new novels are released!

  Learn more about Rose and Star Press, publishers of lesbian romance and fiction of distinction at http:///www.LesbianRomance.org