Shonna
Shonna had been thinking about Jason ever since the night she spent wrapped in his arms.
It was the first time she had ever slept that peacefully. Shonna's mind was always racing, so she found it hard to settle at night. She would usually stay up late, mulling over a case or watching late-night reruns on TV. But when she was curled up by the fire, head resting against his bare chest, she fell into a deep slumber, and it had been nearly noon by the time she'd awoken to the sound of Veronica's incessant pounding.
She didn't have Jason's number, but she needed to talk to him about her grandmother's will. He never mentioned it, so she wanted to believe he didn't know, but then again, after learning about the letter her grandmother wrote to him, there was no way to know for sure until she talked to him.
It was hard to be angry with him. He had been there for her grandmother when she wasn't. He was the last one to see her alive. He knew her grandmother better than she did. It made her envious, but she had no one to blame but herself.
Shonna's phone rang. Since they had the same phone, she was able to use Veronica's charger to give hers some juice. She glanced at the caller ID, and Devin Longfellow was calling.
Again.
He had been ringing her every day since she quit, but she wasn't ready to talk to him. She wanted him to sweat it out a bit, and when she was good and ready, she would listen to whatever gibberish he had to say.
In the meantime, she would stay through the holidays as she planned to. Help Jason remodel her grandmother's cabin, then rent it out. Maybe she could visit from time to time to make sure the place was well looked after. She considered selling it and being done, but she would need Jason's consent since he was a partial owner. She wondered what his reaction would be.
Veronica had taken Penny for her evening walk, so Shonna was in the room alone, looking at the urn that sat on the bedside table. She and Veronica had spent the last day and a half exploring the small town and reminiscing about YoYo.
What were you thinking, YoYo? What is it about this man that made you think he and I were meant to be?
A knock on her door jolted her out of her thoughts. It was an inn employee with a pushcart.
"Room service, miss."
"I didn't order anything."
"Compliments of Mr. Locklear." He wheeled the tray and then excused himself, refusing the tip she tried to hold out for him.
Shonna removed the lid, revealing two dishes − chicken smothered in gravy and eggplant Parmesan. For dessert, two decadent slices of chocolate cake drizzled in chocolate syrup. Her mouth instantly pooled with saliva.
When Veronica returned, her eyes lit up, and she was pleasantly surprised there was a vegetarian meal for her since she didn't eat meat. The two crammed down their dinners before tearing into dessert.
The chicken was bursting with flavor, still simmering in its savory juices, while the cake melted over her tongue. Before she knew it, she had eaten every last bite of food, yet she was unsatisfied. Her craving wasn't for food but for the man who fed her. She would give anything for another taste of her Goliath mountain man intent on proving to her romance hadn't died but was alive and well.
Shonna wanted to repay him for his generosity, but she didn't want to show up unannounced at his room for one, because she knew where that would lead, and two, because that was not her style. She called down to the front desk to leave a message for him, but the receptionist informed her that he and some of the staff had gone out for the evening to Fisherman's Bar.
"Feel like going out tonight?" Shonna extended an offer to Veronica, who was already in her pajamas and deep under the covers, Penny lying in bed next to her.
She shook her head. "Three's a crowd. You have fun. Use a condom!"
Shonna ignored that remark and bundled up, hopped in her rental can, and let her phone guide her down the street to the local hideaway lit up with colorful twinkly lights. It seemed like the whole town was there. When she walked in, Beth, the server from the diner, along with a group of young adults who looked to be around her same age, was belting out the words to Santa Claus is Coming to Town, and the audience chimed in.
It was impossible not to notice Rigby by the bar chatting up a group of women who were hanging on his every word and laughing a little too loudly. Shonna had no clue what he was saying, but she was sure none of his jokes were that funny.
When he saw her standing by the entrance, he stepped away from his fan club to greet her.
"Hey, miss lady. Is your cousin with you?" He smiled wide, glancing over her shoulder.
"No, she isn't. But it looks as if you have your hands full anyway." She nodded toward the trio of ladies gaping in his direction and pea-green with envy that Shonna had soaked up so much of his attention.
He laughed. "Didn't think we'd see you tonight."
"Well, I certainly didn't want to miss... whatever this is," she said, gesturing to the lively and happy drunk people singing played-out Christmas songs.
Rigby tried to explain, "It's cold and gets dark before four, so we gotta find some way to entertain ourselves. Can I buy you a drink? Alcohol helps the notes find their key."
"Thanks, but I'm looking for Jason. Have you seen him?"
"Yeah. He's..."
As if on cue, Jason exited the bathroom, and his eyes immediately fell on her. Their eyes locked, and it was as if there was no longer a crowd of people. It was just them. He sauntered over to her, his face stoic, unreadable.
"Hey," he said casually, totally oblivious to the fact that his presence was making the heat rise to her face.
"Hey," she responded back.
Eloquent.
"Alright, well. Enjoy your night, kids." Rigby slapped Jason on the back and returned to his groupies.
As soon as it was just the two of them, Jason's hungry eyes raked over every inch of her body, causing the warmth to spread like wildfire over every inch of skin his gaze fell on.
"Dinner was amazing," she said, nearly forgetting why she stopped by. "Can I buy you a drink?"
It was uncanny how flustered he made her. She was a litigator, used to arguing cases on a regular in front of a judge, a jury, and a gallery full of spectators. How did this colossal hunk of a man leave her feeling bashful?
"Only if you have one with me," he said.
"Deal."
They took a seat at two empty bar stools and were immediately greeted by the bartender.
"Hey, Jason. What'll it be?"
"Two White Christmases," he ordered.
"White Christmas?"
"Eggnog."
Shonna couldn't help but twist her face at the words. In her book, eggnog was by far the most disgusting drink ever created. She never understood why people insist on serving it at every Christmas party and holiday function.
"Trust me," he said softly, placing a hand on hers.
Since he had somehow gotten her to change her mind about fish, she decided to go with it. How bad could it be?
The bartender returned with two crystal mugs of frothy liquid, topped with a tiny gingerbread man on the edge of the glass. Cute, but she knew it would still taste like armpits. She sipped hers cautiously, letting the creamy liquid slide down her throat, the powerful taste of bourbon hitting her tongue. The drink was surprisingly smooth, and the touch of cinnamon gave it a spiced kick that sent her taste buds over the moon.
"Oh, my God."
"Do you hate it?"
"No, I love it," she admitted. "This might be my new favorite drink."
The smug smile on his face made it clear he enjoyed proving her wrong a little too much. Shonna was steadfast in her beliefs and always right, except when it came to Jason, who kept surprising her. It was infuriating.
They sipped their drinks as they listened to song after song from the world's worst Christmas karaoke album.
"Are you going to sing?" she asked Jason.
"Not my thing," he responded.
"Then why did you come?"
"It was one of YoYo's favorite things to do around the holidays. Listen to Christmas music performed by Blackstone's most talented," he explained with a laugh.
But she could see the sadness in his eyes, and she knew how badly he must miss YoYo. She placed her hand in his and squeezed it gently, and they sat like that for a while.
Charlie was next to sing. She chose Silent Night, but it rather than the popular ballad she remembered, it sounded like a cat was dying a very painful death.
"I like this song," she blurted, the eggnog kicking in.
Not this version, however.
"Wanna dance?"