A Christmas Reunion - Nic Starr Page 0,1

proximity to him meant Hunter could see them a few times a year without having to come up to the mountains. He much preferred the quick trip to LA from his home in San Francisco. But his mom and dad returned every year to stay for at least a month at what was now their vacation home. They spent time with the rest of the Cavendishes and participated in all the Christmas activities around town. Hunter always thought it strange that his parents didn’t want to vacation somewhere larger and more prestigious, somewhere with more parties and with more people to make an impression on. He could hear his father’s voice in his head. Appearances are everything, Hunter. Or they could even stay and have Christmas home some years or visit one of the company’s other resorts. But his mother liked the idea of a picturesque white Christmas, and he could only assume that both his parents liked the fact they were treated like returning royalty in Cavendish Crossing.

Royalty. What a joke.

The final approach to town meant facing the music wasn’t far away. A headache nudged at Hunter’s temples, no doubt the result of the tension that had been building for weeks in the lead-up to his trip. He rolled his shoulders and straightened his back as much as he could in the confines of the vehicle in an effort to loosen up.

Please, please, please let the next two weeks be bearable.

He knew it was too much to hope for a pleasant vacation, so bearable would have to do.

Someone must have been listening to his pleas about the Jeep or luck was on his side, because he made it to the main street. By the time he pulled up outside the auto repair shop, the temperature gauge was maxing out. Unfortunately, his luck stopped there. The closed shutters didn’t bode well for getting the car fixed tonight. Fuck!

Hunter didn’t want to risk driving any farther in case the Jeep blew up or he couldn’t get it back in the morning, so he moved it into the parking lot outside the shop. He made a quick call, although just the thought of asking his father for help made his skin crawl, as did the thought of being trapped with no quick escape. After arranging for his father to come and pick him up, Hunter shrugged on a coat and gathered the things he needed immediately—his duffel and his suit bag (God help him if he forgot the suit)—unplugged his cell, and shoved it into his messenger bag alongside his laptop. Confident the Jeep would be okay overnight, he locked up and lugged his belongings across to the sidewalk, his breath clouding in front of him.

The town was quiet at this time of the late afternoon, and the weather no doubt kept most people inside. It was freezing and overcast, dusk well and truly on its way. It had been raining during the day, and the pavement was wet. The only thing keeping the town from looking bleak and unwelcoming was the twinkle of fairy lights up and down the main street. Every business had gone overboard with the holiday spirit. Windows glowed with Christmas displays; even the streetlamps were adorned with boughs of pine, giant red-and-white-striped candy canes, and sparkling red baubles.

Hunter caught a smile at his lips—the whole place looked like a postcard. He had to give the town that. For a moment, he appreciated his mom’s love of Christmas. Red, green, and silver decorations in store windows, twinkling lights reflected in the glistening surface of the street, remnants of snow piled along the sidewalk, giving that white Christmas feel.

Ice-cold water put a dampener on his happy thoughts. Literally.

“Fuck!” Hunter automatically jumped back as the water, a veritable torrent, hit him from the waist down, drenching his clothes and luggage. It immediately soaked through his jeans, icy-cold. “Fuck!” Curses tumbled from his lips as he held his belongings high. “Watch where you’re going, you idiot!” he shouted at the slowing truck.

The truck pulled over, its taillights reflecting on the wet surface of the road before the ignition was turned off and the door opened. “Sorry,” the guy called as he got out of the vehicle.

“And so you goddamned should be. Driving like a lunatic—”

“Hey, there’s no need to curse me out. It was an accident. It’s not like I intentionally— Hunter?” The guy paused as he rounded the car. “Hunter Cavendish?”

“Aaron?” Holy shit. He took a step or two back,