Wicked Night Before Christmas by Tierney O’Malley

Chapter One
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    Oh, yeah. Eat my snow dust!
    For the first time, Cara St. Regis took the lead. She glanced back to check on Amy. Her friend was still a couple yards behind. Feeling victorious, she squared her shoulders and faced the bottom of the hill.
    Downhill skiing wasn't her favorite activity. But the rush, challenges, cold air biting her exposed cheeks, concentration and butterflies in her stomach helped her forget Amy's brother, Lucas. He had opted to stay with his ex-high school sweetheart, Rochelle, at the Mongolian Restaurant, who wrapped her arms around him like a barnacle on a wet rock, batted her lashes and pouted her lips. In a annoying tone that sounded like a spoiled annoying brat, Rochelle whined she didn't want her two hundred fifty dollar Ugg Gissella Espresso to get wet. Most likely they just want to ogle each other, exchange memories and create more to come. Like French kissing in the restaurant. They'd been lip-locked since they had arrived in the morning so what would stop them from doing it in a restaurant.
    Just like Seattle's unpredictable, ever-changing weather, the thought soured her already curdled mood and quickly changed it to anger. Her agitation contrasted that of the serene view of the mountains.
    Earlier, Amy whispered that Rochelle and Lucas were only friends now. Friend. Yeah right . Some friend she is . She wouldn't French kiss and share saliva with Lucas unless something beyond friendship was going on between them.
    And dratted Lucas obviously enjoyed the kiss . He just smiled and kept his hold on Rochelle's hips. She bet he had a hard-on for that more than friendly kiss. If they were that noxiously sweet with each other in front of people, she couldn't imagine what they'd been doing while in Florida.
    Tiny, painful pricks, like getting stuck in a blackberry bush, jabbed her jealous heart. Chest hurting from the painful scene she had witnessed, Cara planted her pole forcefully into the thick snow then pushed hard. She picked up speed and for a few seconds felt airborne. Powdered snow sprayed and spattered her goggles, obstructing her view. Visibility became low, but she didn't care.
    Stop, damn it ! It was stupid to care about what those two were doing anyway. So what if they were exchanging saliva and bodily functions? Lucas wasn't hers. He was free to do his own bidding, sleep with anyone, French kiss anyone.
    She had shared a night with Lucas. That night had been wonderful, but it had been just that. One night together. A result of drinking large cups of Margaritas on her part and single malt Scotch on his. Cara wondered if her inexperience in bed had turned him off. Maybe he liked the kind who knew how to suck tongue and maybe dick, too, like Rochelle.
    A gossip magazine had printed a snippet about Rochelle sleeping around to get what she wanted, including her beauty queen crown, and something about diet pills. She could believe the diet pills part. The woman looked like a telephone pole with D cup bra size and hips that reminded her of the popular pop singer and dancer, Beyonce.
    Cara never liked the woman not because she could be the human counterpart of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of beauty. It was a female instinct and unspoken hate that the woman had been sending her. They'd met twice, both times she gave her a silent evil message she could only interpret as, touch Lucas, and I'll kill you, bitch .
    Would Rochelle really kill her if she found out she had touched Lucas? Well, she'd be happy to know touching Lucas had resulted in their friendship going down the drain. Despite his promise that they would talk, she never heard from him again. Lucas must have regretted sleeping with her.
    Uh-huh. They would talk. Bull . If Amy had not given her updates about Lucas's job with the Drug Enforcement Agency, his recent hookup with Rochelle and that they were coming here together for the holiday, she'd still be waiting for him, for his call. Lucas just went to his assignment in