Her Mistletoe Minotaur: A BWWM Paranormal Holiday Romance (A Very Alpha Christmas Book 1) Read online

  Her Mistletoe Minotaur

  ‘Tis the Season to be Grumpy

  by Erin St. Charles

  Her Mistletoe Minotaur

  Copyright © 2019 by Erin Martin

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact:

  [email protected]

  http://www.erinstcharles.com

  ASIN: B07Y8Q734V

  First Edition: November 2019

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Baby, It’s Cold Outside

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Mistle-Tow

  CHAPTER THREE

  Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Over the River and Through the Woods

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Naughty and Nice

  CHAPTER SIX

  You're a mean one, Mr. Mitch

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Scared Grinches

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  All I Want for Christmas is You

  CHAPTER NINE

  Deck the Halls with...

  CHAPTER 10

  Falalalala lala...

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Oh, the Weather Outside is Frightful...

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A Hazy Shade of Winter

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Walking in a Winter Wonderland

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Baby, it's Cold Outside

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Oh, Christmas Tree!

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Stuck in Her Chimney

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I really can't stay...

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It's Christmastime in Perdition

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kissin’ by the Mistletoe

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Here Comes Santa Claus

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Santa's Little Helper

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Don We Now our Ugly Sweaters

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Ugly Christmas Sweater

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  All I Want for Christmas is You

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Hey Sis, It's Christmas

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Blue Christmas

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Grandma got run over by a reindeer

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  O Christmas tree!

  EPILOGUE

  What Christmas Means to me

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Baby, It’s Cold Outside

  Petunia Greene had an uneasy feeling in her gut.

  First, her expectation of mild Texas winters had been dashed by the gently falling flakes of the white stuff on the road from Dallas to Perdition. While it wasn't a blizzard like the ones she'd grown up with, it did make driving difficult.

  Second, the rented trailer of her belongings, which she towed behind her Ford Focus, was not as stable as advertised. Even on this windless night, the ground was slippery enough to make the trailer careen whenever a heavy truck rumbled past.

  Growing up in Ohio, she was used to snowy weather, she reminded herself. She reckoned they weren't used to snow in Texas, so the powers that be didn't have efficient snow removal protocols. The road was more slippery than she'd noticed when she'd set off from Dayton two days ago.

  Third, she'd forgotten her Omni didn't work in the little pack town that was her destination. Furthermore, she hadn't yet purchased a smartphone, which would work in Perdition. It had been her intention to purchase one after she'd arrived in town and could touch the merchandise, play with the device, etc., etc. Because of this, she could not call her sister Jasmine, nor her aunt, whom everyone called Auntie, to consult one of them about whether she should push through or seek shelter.

  All of these happenstances combined to create a giant knot of apprehension in her belly. She needed to distract herself.

  "How do rabbits get to their vacations?" she asked into the darkness, her voice tight with tension. Then she answered her own corny joke. "They take a hare-plane!"

  Of all the child-friendly jokes she'd learned in preparation for moving to Perdition and teaching third grade, that was one of the corniest.

  Tu knew she could drive in inclement weather, but she was feeling less than confident in her ability to drive in this weather. Still, she kept her hands at the two and ten positions on her steering wheel, as she was taught when she took Driver's Ed back in high school.

  She jumped suddenly, as an alarm flashed in her dashboard.

  Warning: Inclement weather. Dangerous driving conditions ahead.

  The electronic voice warning system helpfully informed her of what she'd have to be blind and deaf not to realize.

  "Thanks for sharing," she told her car drolly.

  With clammy hands and sweat-bullets in her armpits, Tu now wished she had allowed her family to help her with the move. Her parents had pleaded with her to let them ship her belongings to town and help find her an apartment. They'd argued that if she must move away from home, she shouldn't try to do it alone.

  Translation: Tu cannot be trusted to run her own life.

  She had rejected the intrusive, patronizing offer. "I can handle it," she'd said.

  "It'll be easy," she'd said.

  Now, as she slip-slided along the interstate, it seemed her parents might have had a point.

  She could be settled in the cute little cottage behind the rambling Tudor Jasmine shared with her fiancé, AJ, right this very minute. She could be sipping hot chocolate, or warm cider, or even a hot toddy, snuggled in a warm blanket in her little cottage, watching Christmas movies on whatever device they used in Perdition to amuse themselves. She could be helping Jasmine deck the halls in her sister's house.

  Instead, she faced an uncertain future on a snowy Texas highway. Her car chose that moment to slide to the left on the slick road. Her heart hammered as she eased up on the gas. It stopped sliding, and she looked at the side of the road. She couldn't tell where the road ended, but the trees were several feet away. She must still be on the pavement.

  Ahead of her, a sign warned that the bridge ahead would freeze before the road. The sign depicted the outline of a car, with what appeared to be snakes following the car.

  "What do snowmen eat for lunch?" she asked out loud. "Icebergers."

  The snow continued to fall, the flakes deceptively fluffy and harmless-looking, but in truth, she was driving in near whiteout conditions. She approached the bridge with care and trepidation. A truck passed her, creating a gust of wind that had her little car rocking on its wheels. Tu pumped her brakes to gradually slow down and, heart pounding, she gripped the wheel firmly until the car stopped shaking.

  She let out a sigh of relief when the car came to a full stop. Still on the downside of the bridge, she needed to get moving before another vehicle came along. Thank God, the truck hadn't passed her on the bridge.

  She stepped on the accelerator cautiously
. The car's wheels turned and turned, and she realized that in the few seconds the car had been at rest, the ground had started to freeze. She gave the car a bit of acceleration in order to gain enough traction to crest the hill. "It's all downhill from here," she said out loud, letting out a loud sigh of relief.

  The map she had consulted indicated the bridge spanned a small body of water called Wolf's Bane Creek, only a few short miles out of town. Almost there!

  She smiled.

  As she descended the hill, her smile turned into a full-on grin. She started singing "Jingle Bells" while bouncing in her seat. Her parents had been such naysayers, but it all worked out, didn't it?

  As she hit the "Tra la lalas," Tu felt the familiar rumble of a heavy truck barreling up behind her.

  "Oh, shit!" she swore, both hands firmly in place on the steering wheel. On the bridge, she had no protection from wind gusts. Her car rocked when the semi blew past her. She felt the back of the car move sideways as the trailer pitched and caused the car to fishtail.

  Tu gritted her teeth and fought to control the car. She skidded and slid, remembering from her high school Driver’s Ed classes that the best way to manage any vehicular emergency was to hold the steering wheel firmly at the two and ten positions. She kept calm as her car slipped once again and went off the side of the road in a slide that seemed to take an hour, but realistically only took 30 seconds before the car rolled once and landed on its side.

  She hit the headrest hard, the airbag deployed with a loud pop, and she realized her parents might have had a point, after all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Mistle-Tow

  Mitch Wayne saw a faint, white glow pointed up at the ghostly sky and knew instantly it was what he'd been looking for.

  He'd been out in his wrecker all night, ostensibly to look for stranded motorists. A knot of tension had throbbed in his chest when he'd set out in the wrecker; he knew somehow that someone would need his help.

  Sensible people avoided the roads on nights like these. He had no reason to believe there’d be anyone on the roads in this weather. Mitch often roamed the roads at night, even more so in the past few weeks. He blamed the Christmas season, when humans and shifters alike refused to leave him the fuck alone, insisting on assaulting him with their holiday cheer. Living outside of town like a hermit did nothing to dissuade the nosy townsfolk who often showed up at his house to sing Christmas carols, offer to put up his lights, invite him to a holiday gathering, or whatever the fuck struck their fancy.

  Avoiding home worked well to get people to leave him alone. He'd explained over and over to the good people of Perdition that as a minotaur, he had no use for excessive human contact. He could take it or leave it, but mostly leave it. A lupine-dominated town, Perdition’s citizens suffered the affliction of pathological friendliness, which became worse during the holiday season. He’d seen a car go sliding off the road, the size of the headlights indicating a small car. He had driven past the place on the road where he'd last seen the small car, taken the overpass road that crossed the median to the other side, and parked the wrecker up the hill where he’d last seen the headlights. He found the small blue car halfway down the steep hill, headlights pointed up at him through the dark and the swirling snow. He hiked down until he reached the car. A small rental trailer lay wheels up a bit farther down the hill, and he suddenly realized how this accident had happened. The owner of the blue car had been towing the trailer, was hit by the wake of the semi, and had gone off the road. The car appeared to be relatively unscathed. He peered into the windshield, but he couldn’t see the driver around the deployed airbag.

  Looking around, he realized he would have to pull the car up at least a few yards before he could hitch it to the wrecker. The trailer he was pretty sure he could just drag up the hill, no problem. But only if he shifted to his beast first.

  He hiked back up the hill, left his winter coat in the wrecker, and rolled his neck. He shifted, and his 6'5" 300-pound frame morphed into a 400 pound seven-foot body. His Henley and jeans were made of a stretchy fabric that flexed as his body got larger and would snap back to their usual proportions when he shifted back.

  He trudged down the embankment to the car. In the time it took him to go up the hill and return, the driver had deflated the airbag and struggled to open the door.

  "Hey, wait." His voice, already a deep bass, sounded louder and gruffer when he shifted. The figure in the car froze at the sound. He'd been told his voice sounded like a foghorn when he shifted, and he realized he needed to be cautious when he approached this person. minotaurs were the rarest of all shifters, reclusive by nature, and thus few humans had ever encountered one shifted. Mitch approached the car cautiously, hands up and palms facing the car so the driver could see his empty hands.

  A small woman jerked on the door, unable to open it on her own. He opened it with a firm jerk, and she tumbled out of the car and hit the ground. She wore a blue sweater, jeans, and a baseball cap, but no jacket. And combat boots. She landed on her hands and knees, then looked up at him, eyes wide with astonishment, mouth flapping with silent words.

  Pretty.

  It was the first thought he had when her eyes landed on him and skittered over the features of his face, taking them in, in a rush. He waited for a negative reaction, which, sad to say, had happened to him before.

  She had beautiful smooth skin the color of a walnut shell, giant brown eyes that put him in mind of a Japanese Anime character. Her high cheekbones, bountiful bosom, and blow job lips caused a sensation that mixed desire and nostalgia in his gut. She looked like some kind of cute, brown animal. Like a baby fox. Or maybe a meerkat.

  Mitch was struck by the uncomfortable idea that she was the reason he had felt compelled to roam the highways for the past few weeks. He put the strange notion out of his head.

  Snow continued to fall, landing gently on her shoulders. The ground around her had a thick layer of snow, which reflected the moonlight and illuminated her face.

  Yes…pretty.

  Also.

  MINE.

  "Am I awake?" A weird thing for her to say, but it snapped him out of his bizarrely possessive thoughts. He gave her a long, long look.

  "Of course, you are," he told her gruffly. "Why wouldn't you be?"

  "Why do you look so grumpy?" she asked, squinting at him.

  He said nothing to this, annoyed by the question. If he had a sawbuck for every time someone mentioned his Resting Grumpy Face, he'd be a wealthy, wealthy man. Or more accurately, an even wealthier man. The woman looked around herself, confused. She put her hand to her head, pushing the baseball cap off. It had the logo of the Cleveland baseball team on it. If she noticed his giant, horned beast, she gave no indication of same.

  She picked up the baseball cap, shook the snow off, and placed it back on her head, giving it a little adjusting wiggle.

  "Some truck passed me like I was standing still,” she said. “Drove me off the road.” She didn't seem frightened of him, so he stepped closer to her.

  "I kind of fishtailed, and the trailer...kind of...I don't know. I slid, and I think I hit my head," she finished.

  "I saw it happen," he said. He offered her his hand to pull her up.

  Now, she looked wary. But also, cute. Very cute. She did not take his hand.

  "My wrecker is up the hill," he said, hooking a giant thumb to indicate where.

  She still looked confused. "Why are you shifted?"

  He wasn't expecting her to say that. Most people didn't mention a man’s beast, even seven-foot-tall minotaurs. Most people tried not to be rude, but clearly weren't used to the sight of a seven-foot-tall talking shifter.

  "I can't get my wrecker down here," he told her, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. The compulsion to touch her rode him hard. "I can drag your car and trailer up the hill, no problem. It would be impossible with my truck."

  She took in this new bit of information with a nod.

  "Aren't you cold?" he
asked her. Even covered in bristly, coarse hair, the weather got to him. "Huh? No, I'm from Ohio," she said, like that explained everything. A little less dazed now and on her feet, she brushed herself off, smoothing her hands over round, shapely hips, and making the spit in Mitch’s mouth dry up. Her jeans appeared to be painted on, and he sent a mental prayer to the gods that she would turn around so he could please, please, please look at what had to be a world-class butt. How had he ever thought she looked like a meerkat?

  When she looked around at her own ass to brush off the snow, he bit the inside of his cheek and looked away. But he did check her out with his 330-degree visual field, his eyes drawn to her body as a sunflower seeks the sun. He needed to do something to distract himself, so he didn't hoist her over his shoulder like a cave man, give her a hard slap on the ass, and carry her away to sex her up among the stalactites.

  He was suddenly aware of what he could offer as a man, or rather, what he couldn’t offer. His moodiness, his taciturn ways, his age. All were wrong for her. This woman, whose name he didn’t even know, was not for him. The thought made him immeasurably sad, and emotion welled painfully in his chest.

  The woman was too everything. Too pretty. Too young. Too sexy. Too much of all that was good in a woman. He wanted her. He did not deserve her.

  "I'm going to go have a look at that trailer," he said grumpily. "You can wait in the wrecker if you like. It's warm."

  Then he stomped down the hill, not sparing her a single look as he left her behind. He found the trailer at the edge of Wolf's Bane Creek, wheels facing the sky. He bent over, flipped the trailer over, and started to drag it up the hill.

  Mitch, a big, strong man, was bigger and stronger when shifted. The trailer was fucking heavy. Did she load it with anvils before she hit the road? How on earth did she manage to hook it to her car? He paused to get a better hold on the trailer, then headed up the hill again...

  ...and nearly mowed the little woman down because she had planted herself in the path up the hill. She had her hands on her hips, mean-mugging him.