Moody’s Grumpy Holiday Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Lane Hayes Advertisement1

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I’d given my uncle my notice, put my condo on the market, and spent the past two months transitioning between jobs. My friends were excited for me. I think they realized I needed a change.

My mom agreed, but she wasn’t thrilled with the move. “It’s so sudden. Where will you live? When will I see you? Will you be home for Christmas?”

I hadn’t had the heart to tell her no. I had bigger worries on my mind.

See, I hadn’t planned on moving to California. Not right away. I’d figured I’d travel between Denver and Santa Ynez and ease into the transition. But they needed me.

Tanner Spade and his brother, Jax, were my new business partners, along with a few family and college friends of theirs. Everyone had a lane and stuck to it at Oak Ridge Ranch. They were all in their early to midthirties and had real ranch experience. Tanner was the livestock guru, Jax was finance and marketing, Waylen was dairy operations and sales, Mills headed the vacation destination program, and Santiago ran the winery.

They’d taken what was once a small family-owned operation and brought it into the twenty-first century in a way that honored the past yet allowed for new ideas and substantial growth.

“We’re busier now than ever. Between the new winery, sold-out packages for the dude ranch, and the overflow of interest from tourists in Christmas Town, we’re stretched thin. I could use your help with the livestock and horses immediately. We bought a bull from a ranch in Austin, and we’re hoping to mate him with—doesn’t matter, just…think about it. Please.”

Tanner had even offered the use of a bungalow on ranch property to sweeten the deal. I’d still thought about it long and hard. Not only was this a big move, but I’d grown up on a working ranch with direct ties to reliable distribution channels. We fed people. Dude ranches were for entertainment, and wineries just weren’t on my uncle’s radar. Investing in Oak Ridge was one thing, but actually working there was almost rebellious.

I supposed that made me a rebel ’cause here I was, whistling to holiday music in sunny California on a beautiful December afternoon with nothing but blue skies for days. And you know, I was feeling pretty pleased with my decision.

The only thing that would have made it sweeter was Moody. I’d thought about him every damn day since that night in my hotel room.

Odd things reminded me of him—the rack of mysteries at the local market, my mom’s homemade chicken noodle soup, the Santa hat one of the attendants had worn on my flight to California. Honestly, anything Christmas-themed conjured an image of the sweet man with adorable glasses who got feisty as hell at the mention of the holidays.

Like this song on the radio.

It was almost obsessive. Sure, he was a great guy and I’d love to see him again, but his good-bye at the hotel hadn’t been wistful in the slightest. He’d practically bolted out the door without bothering to give me his number…a strong indication that he wasn’t interested in a repeat. I couldn’t seem to take the hint.

I’d googled his shop for the listed number and left a message for Moody with someone named Katie. I never heard from him. I’d tried emailing him. Nothing.

That should have been it. Message received, loud and clear. So what was wrong with me? Maybe I had a fetish for being dumped. Or maybe the fact that he was unavailable was somehow an extra turn-on. Weird. Trust me, I knew it. But I also knew there was no way I could live twenty minutes away from Christmas Town and not see Moody.

Just once.

And then I’d move on.

I veered off the now-familiar exit and drove down the evergreen-lined Reindeer Lane, smiling when I reached Santa’s Corner and the biggest Christmas tree in the west. Holy…cow. It was decked for the season, with enormous red and silver balls and colorful twinkling lights and surrounded by giant presents with glittery bows. I slowed to take in the mass of poinsettias, the fake snow, and the star affixed to the top. The statue now donned a real Santa hat too. It was very festive.

I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Tourists milled at the base of the tree and around the statue, posing for pictures.

The season was officially on, I mused, continuing uphill to Holiday Lane.

And…oh, my God. I’d never seen anything like it. My breath hitched audibly.

Christmas had literally thrown up all over town. It had already been pretty Christmassy in October, but they’d turned up the volume to the max. Every lamppost was wrapped in garlands and bows, every window had a wreath, lights were strung on every tree and crisscrossed the streets, the rooftops were covered in faux snow, and every shop had some kind of holiday-themed artwork drawn on the windows.


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