The Christmas Groom

by Taylor Hart

  He just stood there, not moving.

  She tried to get past him, limping on her foot.

  He got in her way. “I don’t care if you want help or not. You need it, so I’m helping you.”

  Blame it on the blood loss, the adrenaline, or the fact that she felt more than a little bit like the princess in a fairy. For whatever reason, the fierce look in his eyes did something to her. Before she knew what she’d done, she slipped her hands onto his bare chest and leaned up, touching her lips gently to his.

  Bam. Boom. It was like feeling fireworks. It was nothing like she’d ever felt before. His hands gripped her waist and pulled her to him.

  The kiss deepened.

  She’d never felt such physical strength in a man before, and never had any kiss been so intoxicating. So blatant about claiming her. So addicting that she wanted more already.

  Abruptly, he pulled back and stared at her like he’d just woken up. Mesmerized.

  She did the only thing she could think to do. She reared back and slapped him.

  Pulling back his hands, he took two steps back, looking stung.

  She wanted to die.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked, holding his cheek.

  But she daren’t answer, getting into the car and peeling out, letting the dust cover her sins in her taillight as she raced back to her cabin.

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  Excerpt The Faithful One: Billionaire Bride Pact Romance

  by Cami Checketts

  Trin hurried into the entryway of the Cloverdale bed and breakfast. She felt like she was in Gone with the Wind every day in the exquisite southern style mansion. She’d worked hard to make sure that the twelve guest suites were immaculate and always rented. At five hundred to a thousand dollars a night she knew the bed and breakfast was profitable for Mr. Keller, but the billionaire probably didn’t care with all the luxury hotel chains he owned and who knew what other businesses and investments. Yet he’d always treated her and the Cloverdale as if they were something special. She hated to think of him as a surrogate father because that was just cheesy, but he was a really cool guy.

  He’d personally called and told her about the important guest they had coming to stay. A young man who was going to stay for a few weeks and participate in triathlons in the area while he trained for an Ironman. Trin prayed it wasn’t Mr. Keller’s son, Zander. She’d watched The Bachelor, along with every other besotted woman in the nation. Zander was too handsome for his own good and though he had an understated wit and she’d been impressed with the considerate way he treated all the candidates, it was obvious he was free-loading off his dad and she had a hard time respecting someone like that.

  “I finished polishin’ the big ole Sunny Suite, those stompin’ grounds are cle-ean, not a tassel out of place,” Moriah’s petite yet shapely form swept down the grand staircase. “It’s fit for the queen of Bathsheba.”

  “I think we need it fit for the king.”

  “That too. Yes, ma’am.”

  Trin swatted at her. Children, teenagers, and young adults in the south seemed to have it drilled into them from birth to yes, sir, and yes, ma’am, any adult, even if the person they were addressing was barely an adult. Moriah did it to tease Trin more than anything, but Trin did love the manners the children here displayed.

  “Don’t you yes ma’am me or I’ll dock your pay.”

  Moriah giggled. “You know I’m the best housekeeper and cook in any county in the state so I don’t think you’d better be fixin’ to mess with my pay.” Moriah laid the accent and sass on thick.

  “You watch the attitude, friend.”

  “I’m a Southern girl. Attitude is what draws the men in.” Moriah snapped her fingers.

  “I wish I had a little of that sass.”

  “Naw. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

  “Thanks.” Trin clapped her hands together. “Okay. I think we’re all ready. Mr. Keller said this man is a very special guest of his so I don’t want to mess anything up.”

  “Mr. Keller thinks you bathe in wine, bless his heart. His special guest better be on their best behavior.” She placed a hand on her hip and tossed her black cornrows.

  Trin laughed. “Is bathing in wine a good thing?”

  “It means you are tasty and intoxicating. Yeah, girl.” Moriah threw a hip out and her hands up. A dance move ensued that Trin couldn’t accomplish if someone pushed her rear in the right directions.

  “Oh, my, goodness.” Trin shook her head and hurried behind the large check-in desk. Her open office was directly behind the desk. Her employees teased her about Mr. Keller having a crush on her and it just weirded her out. He was older than her stepdad and was truly like a favorite uncle or father figure.

  She tapped on the keyboard to bring up the reservations for the week. The house was full. They had another couple coming in tonight, but everyone who was staying here added to the charm of the place, in Trin’s opinion. She hoped their special guest agreed, a Mr. Jason Hunley. Nice name.

  The door sprung open and Marcus tugged one bag behind him, shouldering a garment style bag. Marcus winked at her and Trin chose to ignore it. He was a great employee. She’d found him on the Riverwalk downtown. He’d asked her to spare some change. She’d given him five bucks and told him if he could clean up, she’d give him a job at the Cloverdale Mansion. It had been the bravest thing she’d done in a long time, opening her home to someone who may or may not respect it.

  He’d shown up a couple hours later. Somehow he’d taken a shower and put on clean clothes. He now shared the refurbished slave quarters at the back of the property with her. They each had their own apartment and she made sure to lock hers every night.

  Marcus was a good guy who’d just gotten down on his luck. Trin knew exactly how that felt. If she worried that he also seemed to have a propensity for alcohol and weed, she kept it to herself. He’d only missed work a few days and that was all right. She and Moriah could keep everything going without him. It was just really nice to have him help with yard work and being a bell hop, plus he could fix anything. He’d saved Mr. Keller all kinds of money tinkering with things. She knew above all else the billionaire cared about things being in the black so she made sure to keep it that way.

  Walking behind Marcus with an athletic style bag slung over his shoulder was none other than Zander Keller. The air seemed to suck out of the two-story foyer as he focused in on Trin and those smoky blue eyes penetrated to her very soul. His perfectly-sculpted lips turned up in a smile that just radiated appeal. It was like those lips were sucking her in and saying, You’d give anything to kiss me. She gave herself a shake. No need to react like a drama queen just because a fine man walked through their door.

  Trin broke from his gaze and glanced over at Moriah. Her mouth was honestly hanging open. Trin tried to get her attention, but it didn’t work. Yes, Zander was one of the best-looking men on the planet, but they had to be professionals.

  Zander walked forward and extended his hand. “Miss Dean? I’m Jason Hunley.”

  Trin placed her hand in his and plastered on her professional face. Huh? She wanted to spit out something like, Come again? Why were Mr. Keller and Zander lying about who he was? His normally dark hair was highlighted and longer than usual and he had a few day’s growth, probably attempting to cover that handsome face, but none of it really worked as a disguise. Either he thought she lived under a rock or he didn’t really care if she recognized him.

  “We’re thrilled to have you here, Mr. Hunley.” She gestured to Marcus and Moriah. “If there is anything any of us can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let us know.”

  “Thank you.” He released her hand, those blue eyes regarding her solemnly.

  “Marcus. Will you please take Mr. Hunley’s bags up to his room?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Trin didn’t scold him, though she wanted to. Marcus had picked up on the ma’am thing and was rollin
g with it nicely, though he was from upstate New York.

  “Would you like a glass of lemonade?” Trin asked Zander.

  “Sounds great.”

  She walked with him to the north side of the house where a long, spacious gathering room took up the front part of the house with an archway into the large dining room. The kitchen was at the rear of the north wing. That was Moriah’s haven.

  “Moriah?” Trin nodded to her friend. “Would you please bring some refreshments for Mr. Hunley?”

  “Of course. I’m on it, ma’am.” Moriah rushed through the gathering area, the dining room, and into the swinging door of the kitchen.

  Trin didn’t let herself look at him as they walked into the living room and each chose a plush straight back chair to sit in. What was he doing here? Was Mr. Keller checking up on them? Why? He had hotels all over the nation, no probably all over the world. She’d always wondered why he’d taken an interest in Trin’s home, bought it from her mom after her grandparents’ deaths, promoted Trin to manager, and then sunk exorbitant amounts of money into it. Now she had no clue why he would waste his time sending his son undercover to monitor them. Their reviews were fabulous on Trip Advisor and Yelp and honestly they were too small of apples to even be in the barrel of Mr. Keller’s responsibility list.

  Her eyes raised to meet Zander’s again. His eyes were impossibly blue. Women had described them like the ocean or the sky, but Trin thought they looked like the gorgeous blue butterflies that she used to chase at home in Wisconsin. Smoky blue in the middle and almost gold on the edges.

  His face had been sculpted into irresistible manly lines and currently was covered with dark stubble. The recent pictures she’d seen of him were clean shaven, but he’d always had that sexy Hollywood-style stubble when he did The Bachelor. Trin couldn’t say which she preferred. Both, please. He had a really nice build, but he looked like he’d filled out a little bit since The Bachelor as well. She’d heard he had gone through a high dollar rehab not too long ago and it was obvious he was in peak physical condition.

  She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to overcome an addiction as strong as alcohol or drugs. Moriah always teased her because Trin couldn’t walk away from a plate of cookies and she was pretty sure there were no addictive chemicals in them, but maybe Moriah had a secret ingredient she wasn’t sharing.

  He smiled at her as she studied him and the room’s temperature spiked. My, oh, my. “So, Mr. Hunley.” Did he think they lived under a turtle’s shell? She knew exactly who he was. She wondered if Marcus and Moriah had already figured it out too. “Are you here for business or pleasure?”

  “More of an escape.” He smiled that devastating smile again and it was all Trin could do to not sigh dreamily. “I’m doing some triathlons in the area and training for the Ironman in Australia the first week in December. My training takes up most of my time.”

  Trin’s eyes widened. A full grown man who spent most of his time training for a race? As she worked most days from sunup until she dropped into bed, that bugged her a little bit. She didn’t need a training plan to stay in shape. She could put him to work on the grounds and he’d have all the exercise he needed.

  Maybe she should just make him a sign that read, Non-Contributing Member of Society, and hang it on his forehead. Okay, that was mean and judgmental. He seemed nice, she’d had that impression when he did The Bachelor and tried to let the girls down easily. She remembered the relief, like a boulder being taken off her shoulders when he had chosen a finalist but then later came out and explained that they were not a couple. Which was silly because she didn’t know him. She knew and loved his dad, but she’d never met Zander before today.

  Moriah brought a tray of lemonade and her Snickerdoodles. Darn her. Trin could never eat only one.

  Zander took a cookie and a glass of lemonade, thanking Moriah and giving her that trademark smile. Moriah’s dark eyes lit up and she ducked her head in a completely uncharacteristic Moriah move. Normally, she’d be batting her long eyelashes and swiveling her hips. “My pleasure, sir. I hope they tantalize your tasting buds.”

  Trin rolled her eyes at Moriah’s blatant flirtations. She broke a piece of a cookie and placed it on her tongue, savoring the spicy cinnamon, rich butter, and sugar. Yum. “They’re fabulous as always, Moriah.”

  “Thank ya kindly, ma’am.”

  Trin shot her a warning look. Moriah’s throaty laughter rang through the room. Trin swatted at her behind as she walked away.

  “You seem to have a good relationship with your employees,” Zander said.

  Trin raised an eyebrow. “They’re my friends.”

  Zander took a long swallow of his lemonade. “Then you’re even luckier.”

  Trin wondered at the longing note in his voice. The famous Zander Keller probably had women vying for his attention every second of the day. Surely, he didn’t need friends. No, everybody needed friends. Maybe he wanted a real friend, not just someone who wanted his body. But who wouldn’t want his body? Darn, she needed to think professional thoughts and stop checking out the striations in his arms.

  “What do you do for work, Mr. Hunley?” There she went again, being judgmental and trying to box him into a corner.

  “Please, call me Jason.”

  She pursed her lips. “All right.”

  He stood and walked around the room, checking out the white mantle above the fireplace framed with bookshelves and then looking through the French doors out at the wrap-around porch and sweeping lawn. Trin loved all the windows in the house, even though they were drafty when the temperature dropped, but for the most part they had great weather so the windows just embraced the sunlight and made her happy.

  “I feel like I’ve stepped back into the 19th century. I love how you preserved the authentic feel of that era yet everything is fresh and clean-looking.”

  “Why do you assume I did it?”

  He shrugged. “It just feels like … this is your house.”

  She glanced away from him. “It was my grandparent’s home. My mother inherited it, but sold it to the current owner, Mr. Keller, after they died. I was already basically managing the house and Mr. Keller,” Your dad, she wanted to say, “was generous enough to keep me on staff. Helping me finish my degree and allowing me to continue to manage the house that has been in my family for generations.” Talk about an info dump. Why did she need to tell him all of that?

  He looked sharply at her. “I don’t know that it’s generosity when you’re obviously doing a great job of taking care of the place and keeping it rented. The reviews I read were all glowing.”

  “Thank you. Mr. Keller has been a blessing for me. He spared no expense refurbishing the home and grounds.” She’d been able to be part of the details and it made her so happy—from refurbishing the wood floors to painting the white trim—her house was perfect.

  “How long has the home been in your family?”

  She didn’t remind him that it wasn’t in her family anymore, it was in his. She rarely remembered that fact herself. “It was built in 1860 by my great-great-great …” She half-laughed. “I can never remember how many greats.”

  “So right before the war?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Spoken like a true southern child.” He smirked. “So you grew up here?”

  “No, sir.” She smiled, liking teasing with him, but then her smile slipped quickly as she thought of her childhood. “We lived here until I was five then my daddy died, my mom remarried, and we moved to my stepdad’s home in Wisconsin.”

  “When did you end up back here?”

  “I graduated from high school and immediately came back here to be with my nana and papa.” No need to tell him her stepdad had given her enough money for a bus ticket and told her good luck being an adult. “Went to Huntingdon College just down the street and helped take care of the house. But Nana had a stroke and passed away my senior year and Papa died a few weeks later.” She smiled wistfully. “He couldn’t liv
e without her.”

  She glanced up at Zander. His face had tightened and his blue eyes were cool.

  She cleared her throat, guess he didn’t want the romance story. “My mom didn’t want to deal with running the bed and breakfast, even though I promised her I could do it. My stepdad just wanted the money, so they sold it.” Again on the telling him too much and he was lying to her about who he was. A sickening thought washed over her—Mr. Keller didn’t trust her and had sent his son in to check on her. Then a worse thought came—Mr. Keller was going to sell the house and had sent his son in to figure out if it would be profitable. She wanted to call Zander out right here and now, but would that force his hand?

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Zander’s gaze wandered out the windows to the expansive yard and oak trees shading everything. She had one spot at the back of the property for her garden, but everything else was nice and tree-covered.

  “It’s a beautiful place.”

  “Thank you. I’m grateful to be here. Don’t know what I’d do without it.” Now, that was a fabulous idea. Lay on the guilt. They couldn’t sell her home. Maybe she’d still have a job if they did, but there were no guarantees, and nobody would be as good of a boss as Mr. Keller. He gave her the freedom to run her house the way she liked and she almost felt it was still hers, as if her grandma would walk out of the kitchen any moment or her grandpa would poke his head in the front door and have Trin snitch him a cookie.

  Mr. Keller had sunk a ton of money into the place with renovations, but she knew they were in the black now. Was it making enough money for him to justify those renovations or was he just wanting to sell and be done with such a small property?

  She forced herself to smile at Zander. No reason to make him suspicious. “We should get you checked into your room.”

  Zander stood, taking the hint, holding aloft half of his cookie. “I only took one because I know about southern hospitality and didn’t want to offend anybody, but you were right, these are fabulous.”