His Christmas Angel: A Sweet YA Holiday Romance (Christmas Snow) Read online

  Table of Contents

  His Christmas angel

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  His Christmas angel

  The Christmas Snow Series

  FORCED TO VOLUNTEER at the hospital is the last thing Chase Masters wants to do over the Winter Break. He’d rather be spending his days on the snow with his friends. After all, it was only a little trouble that he caused...

  Christmas is Angelina’s favorite time of year. She loves the bustle of helping out at her family’s Christmas Tree Farm. It doesn’t seem fair that she’s scheduled for chemo treatment the week of Christmas.

  When Chase mistakes Angelina for a fellow volunteer, the two don’t exactly get off to the best of starts, but the Spirit of Christmas is a wondrous thing...

  Can Chase and Angelina open their hearts and find the joy of Christmas together?

  Copyright © 2020 by Kylie Key

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Other Books by Kylie Key

  THE YOUNG LOVE SERIES

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08454JT1D

  The Songs We Sing

  The Path We Take

  The Lies We Tell

  The Hearts We Break

  The Dreams We Share

  THE BOYFRIEND SERIES

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B087KW9P14

  My High School Christmas Boyfriend

  (RIVER VALLEY HIGH)

  My High School Fake Boyfriend

  My High School Billionaire Boyfriend

  My High School Rebel Boyfriend

  My High School Royal Boyfriend

  Chapter 1

  CHASE

  TRYING TO FIND A PARKING spot at the Snow Ridge Public Hospital two days before Christmas was nigh on impossible. Circling the perimeter for a third time, I accelerated sharply on seeing the lights of a white sedan flash. Too bad if I was now driving in the wrong lane, I’d go insane if I had to make one more loop of this place. My squealing tires gained a few curious glances and my parking skills were a bit haphazard, but I hardly cared.

  It was the day before Christmas Eve, and I should have been at a party at Blanche Coburn’s house, not here at the hospital about to do volunteer work in the children’s ward.

  Did I say volunteer work? No, volunteer work indicates a willingness to do something, to freely undertake a task. This was by no means volunteering.

  I’d been forced to come to the hospital—by forced, I mean a mandatory sentence for my crime. Crime—it’s a little harsh. Perhaps transgression would be a better word. Maybe misdemeanor was more accurate. Whatever, in the scheme of things, it wasn’t really that big of a deal.

  Apparently my parents thought differently.

  And when your parents are Boyd and Aileen Masters, Mayor and Mayoress of Snow Ridge, driving 26 in a 25 mile zone will get you ratted on. In fact, someone was probably ringing town hall right now telling them that my shiny black truck, personalized number plate—CHA5E ME—was about two inches out of alignment.

  Okay, yeah, my bad for having a vehicle that sticks out like a shining beacon, but hey, a boy needs these things. You know, for carrying snowboards in winter, waterskis in summer, mountain bikes for the trails.

  You know, I wouldn’t even count my ‘crime’ as a misdemeanor. I mean, it was so minor, so minute that if I hadn’t been the mayor’s son, nobody would have given one iota. However, my father and mother, pillars of the Snow Ridge community, outstanding citizens, role models and future saints, believed I needed to be punished.

  Which is why I was about to spend two weeks of winter break not at the ski fields, not at my friend’s mountain cabin, not even lazing around at home gaming or soaking in the hot tub, but ‘volunteering’ at Snow Ridge Hospital.

  I was twenty five minutes late to my four o’clock meeting with May Taylor, the nurse I was reporting to. I shrugged dismissively at the clock at the front counter—it was hardly my fault that the parking lot was undersized. Directed to the third floor, I huffed out a heavy sigh as I waited for the elevator. Fifty hours I’d been sentenced to, fifty hours over the next two weeks. It was like a full time job! My friends were going to be hitting the slopes without me, I’d be missing out on all the fun. The day after Christmas was traditionally when a crowd of us went to my best friend, Toby’s family cabin. Days on snowboards or skis, nachos and hot chocolate around the fireplace, soaking in the jacuzzi. Sleep. Repeat. For a whole week.

  This year they’d be doing it without me.

  Yeah, so you can see how punctuality for my volunteer job was not a priority.

  I leaned against the reception desk, the woman in the Santa hat busy on the phone. Patience was not generally one of my strong points, but the longer she talked, the less I worked. I scanned around the walls of the waiting room, brightly colored, cute pictures around the place and a string of fairy lights flickering. Hardly a festive feel considering it was two days till the Big Day. A couple more minutes passed, and I tapped my fingers against the orange counter top. The woman looked over and waved a hand, nodding repeatedly as if she was trying to end her conversation as quickly as possible.

  I hope I don’t have to wear a stupid Santa hat.

  That’s what was going through my head, plus the fact that Savannah Adlam, newly single after her breakup with quarterback Oliver Blackwell, was now available. And she was going to be at the party. The party I wouldn’t be going to. Yeah, not only was I doing volunteer work, the parents had grounded me. For the whole of winter break. The children’s ward of the hospital was going to be my only destination.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Mrs. Santa swung her chair to face me, her eyes giving me the once over. Something I was used to, mind you. Yeah, I get checked out...a lot. Not being arrogant, it’s the truth.

  “I’m Chase Masters,” I said, “I’m here to see Mizzzzz Taylor.” I’m not sure why I drawled it out like that. May Taylor had gone to nursing school with my mother back in the day. They weren’t besties, but they were more than acquaintances. May was going out of her way to accomodate me, my mother made it known, so I’d better not make her regret it. She obviously lacked confidence in the Chase Masters charisma.

  “I thought you might be,” she said, already punching buttons into the phone, now looking at me like I was a ketchup stain on a white shirt. “May? He’s arrived,” I heard her say with a laborious sigh, her eyes pointedly staring at the clock.

  I wanted to roll my eyes at her, I mean I was here, wasn’t I? I’d turned up. Give the kid some credit I was going to be spending most of my winter break in this place, cut me some slack!

  It was the last day of school, so tradition was that the gang would hang out, and the girls would hand out cute little gift boxes to all of us, usually peppermint bark, gingerbread or candy canes which they made themselves. I loved that stuff! And then we’d all party at someone’s house, this year being the Coburn’s, which I was missing.

  So yeah, excuse me for being a little late.

  “I couldn’t find a parking spot.” I felt compelled to just
ify my tardiness, but she tutted as if she’d heard it all before.

  May Taylor was not who I was expecting in my mind. She was an officious looking woman with dark skin and short black hair interspersed with wisps of silver. She probably hadn’t smiled since last century and seemed immune to my charm. I gave her a good view of my straight, white teeth and fluttered my baby blues at her, but she addressed me as Mr. Masters and bustled me through the swinging doors like a woman on a mission. Frowning at my inability to coax a smile from her, I dashed ahead to open the second set of doors for her.

  “Mom says that you set my arm when I broke it, back when I was eight.”

  “Oh, I seem to remember that,” she said. “Fell off a roof, am I right? Lucky for you I was punctual and you didn’t have to wait around too long for your cast.” Her clipped enunciation filled me with a slight pang of contrition.

  “I’m sorry, ma’m, but the parking lot was full and I had to-”

  May Taylor cut me off. “There are a lot of sick kids in here, Chase,” she said, her tone reminding me of my art teacher’s that time I’d used all the black paint for my project, leaving none for the rest of the class. Hey...my creation had been a plain black canvas, I’d needed a lot of paint, okay? “And it’s Christmas. And nobody wants to be in the hospital at Christmas time. So next time, if you’re to be here at four o’clock, kindly be here at four o’clock.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I mumbled. The woman was about to have a cow over a few minutes? Didn’t seem like the type Mom would’ve hung around with. I mean Mom was cool, fun, awesome, or she had been until I’d gotten into the bad books.

  “The children’s lounge needs decorating,” May said, pushing through another door and switching on a light. She signaled to a nine or ten foot Christmas pine in the corner of the otherwise lackluster room. Dated brown couches and recliners were positioned in front of a large television screen on the wall, and several tired looking beanbags and pillows were scattered along the uninspired wall. Shelves of books and toys lined another wall. “Santa will be in here on Christmas Day,” May said. “We need to jazz it up a bit. Think you’re up for it?”

  I’d never decorated a tree in my life. That had always been Mom’s job. It seemed like a daunting task. “Now? On my own?” I asked, hearing the buzz of my phone vibrating in my jacket pocket. I resisted the urge to answer it as May gave me a look of daggers and shuffled back out the corridor. I guess that meant yes.

  “Help yourself,” she said, unlocking a cupboard and gesturing to rows of cartons stacked on shelves. “There may be another volunteer coming in later, but I definitely know there’ll be more tomorrow. What time are you in tomorrow?” May rummaged through a box and held up a soft Santa bear. Suddenly her eyes blinked rapidly, and she produced a tissue and held it up to her nose.

  “Uh, nine till five,” I said, immediately regretting my honesty. Should’ve said ten till three. If there were other volunteers, May surely wouldn’t check on me every minute of the day.

  “Okay, I’ll let you get to it,” she said, but her voice cracked a little and she dabbed at her eyes. The woman who had spent the past five minutes acting like a heartless bootcamp instructor was now on the verge of sobbing. Chase Masters didn’t have the skills to deal with a blubbering woman.

  “Uh, I’ll take this box first,” I said, reaching for the one closest to me and high-tailing it back to the lounge. Whoa, tears and crying wasn’t something I could handle. Putting up decorations was suddenly appealing.

  I carried all the boxes into the lounge, and May said she’d find a stepladder. I sat on the recliner and checked my phone. There were a bunch of messages and photos from the party. I smiled at the videos, kids were standing in a flurry of snow around a fire pit. Man...it sucked to be missing out. There would be some awesome snow fights later.

  I jumped when May came back, heaving a stepladder. Disappointment was written all over her face as she glared at me sitting down, texting on my phone. She exhaled loudly through her nose, shook her head and said, “I have patients to see.” And, leaning the ladder against the wall, she turned briskly and exited the room.

  I wasn’t sure why she’d gone all uppity, surely answering a few texts wasn’t a crime. People needed to chill, after all it was the holiday season. Opening a box, I pulled out a string of tangled lights. A few minutes later I abandoned them in frustration. I opened a second box and found an assortment of hanging ornaments, baubles and the sort. Okay, I could spread them around the branches and the tree would be decorated in a flash. Then I’d be able to drop by Blanche’s house for an hour, and Mom and Dad would be none the wiser. I had randomly hung a few decorations, quite pleased with my efforts when the door opened. A girl wearing a woolen hat popped her head in.

  “Oh great,” I said. “I could use some help here.” She stepped inside. She was wearing red leggings and long red reindeer socks. Okay, each to their own, but you’d have to be brave—or crazy—to wear those out in public. “There’s some lights that need untangling.”

  “What?” Her hands were stuffed in the pockets of her oversized hoodie.

  I had no hesitation in giving orders, well I was the first volunteer here, so it made sense that I’d be in charge. “Over there,” I pointed to the lights I’d given up on, “you can start on them.”

  She must’ve been here under obligation too, because she moved at the speed of a sloth. Though, she didn’t look like someone who’d turn a bonfire into a firebomb, or get caught doing it. She looked around at all the boxes before moving towards the lights. She eased herself down into a kneeling position and picked up the monstrosity which I’d quite possibly made worse in the few minutes that I’d tried to sort them. I told you patience wasn’t my strong point.

  “These?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

  “Uh...yeah. If you can manage to stay awake.” My response wasn’t supposed to come out quite so sarcastic, but I could feel my phone constantly buzzing in my pocket, which meant I was missing a lot of notifications.

  I was intrigued when she offered no comeback, instead she completely ignored me and focused on the task in front of her. She didn’t go to Snow Ridge High, of that I was certain. I’m sure I would have remembered someone with such large gray eyes and fascinating heart-shaped lips.

  I rummaged in the cartons, hanging the ornaments as quickly as I could. A message had come from Savannah asking when I’d be arriving. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.

  THE BONFIRE HAD BEEN at Ronan King’s house. The Kings had been at the same dinner party as my parents, and they’d left a mountain of food and snacks. There had been about twelve of us, girls and boys, hanging out, loud music, a few were drinking, but those of us driving knew not to take the risk.

  It was Blanche who had thrown a marshmallow at Toby first—her attempt at flirting. And then suddenly everyone was chucking them at each other, and then throwing them into the bonfire, watching them melt instantaneously. Then Savannah had gotten all dramatic because she’d just broken up with Oliver, and she opened her purse and threw a photo of her and Oliver into it, followed by a strawberry lip balm that apparently she wore because he loved the taste of it on her lips. Yeah, that was hard to hear. But into the fire it went. Lots of laughing, lots of drama, lots of squealing.

  Then I found myself right beside Savannah, obviously she needed comforting in her time of distress.

  “Ugh, look, we had matching ones,” she said, ripping a blue and gold friendship bracelet from her wrist. I held her purse as she threw it into the flames.

  Now, who knows what made me dig in amongst the items and pull out a can of deodorant spray. But I did, and I said, “Suppose this was his favorite too?”

  “Yep, that too,” she said, snatching it from me. “Lotus Passion.”

  “Wa...wait!” I had cried, grabbing it back. “No, no, no, that’ll blow up. You can’t throw that on!”

  “My life has blown up,” Savannah wailed, “Ollie blew up my whole life.” Yeah, she’d had a f
ew drinks, and I could see how upset she was, and Chase Masters wanted to be her knight in shining armor. Blonde and beautiful, Savannah Adlam was one of the most popular girls at Snow Ridge High, and even though I rated myself pretty highly in the popularity stakes, the quarterback topped everybody in our school. Yep, the quarterback was king.

  But Savannah Adlam was no longer dating him, and I saw an opportunity to step up.

  “Yep, that guy was a jerk,” I said, putting a comforting arm around her. “And this is what he deserves.” And before I had a chance to consult my chemistry notes and recall that deodorant sprays contain both alcohol and butane and are highly flammable, I threw the can onto the bonfire.

  And only then did I let out an expletive.

  “What?” Toby said, panicked, “What’d you throw, Chase?”

  “Savannah’s deodorant,” I said, because in the ten or so seconds that had passed, I suddenly remembered every science class I’d attended. A popping noise sounded from the flames.

  “Back everyone! Back! Now!” Toby yelled like a crazed maniac, making me join in, shouting louder, “Run everyone, get back! Get away from the fire!”

  I frantically pushed the girls out of the way, herding them further from the flames. There was confusion all round, Toby now yelling, “He threw a can of Axe on the fire! It’s gonna explode.”

  As the flames doubled in size, there was no time to argue that it wasn’t Axe but some girly stuff.

  “Nah, nothing’s happening,” Ronan said, “it’s cool.” And with a stick in hand, he took a step forward. That’s when the fireball exploded, a loud bang that drowned out the shrieks from the girls.

  I don’t know the order in which things happened. Kids scrambled, girls cried, Ronan swore. The flames tripled, quadrupled in size, and the neighborhood houses lit up.

  There was no real damage done, or that’s what I tried to convince my parents and the Kings. Ronan’s right sleeve and forearm was singed, but didn’t require a hospital visit, and a tree that started to burn was quickly doused by the next-door neighbor’s hose. The one who called the fire brigade.