A Bad Boy for Christmas

by Jessica Lemmon

  “Look at you,” this came from Donovan, who sounded at least half as awestruck as Connor felt.

  Connor had yet to unhinge his tongue from the top of his mouth to say anything.

  “Faith,” Donny said with clear appreciation, “you look stunning. Almost as stunning as my wife-to-be.”

  Sofie’s easy laugh carried down the stairway as she took the steps. Donovan met her halfway and took her hand. The big-hearted brunette was in a floor-length black dress, her hair pulled back, curls around her face, but that was all of the details Connor took in before his eyes tracked back to his girl at the top of the stairs.

  Taking a cue from his buddy, who had apparently become a gentleman over the last year or so, Connor took the stairs next.

  “You got her?” Donovan asked him.

  He scaled a few more steps, his eyes glued to hers. “Yeah, she’s mine.”

  He felt a smile grace his mouth, grateful any words made it past his lips. His girl was a knockout. A vision draped in a sea of shining pink.

  Faith looked too scared to move, her hand wrapped tightly around the banister, a worried look on her face.

  “Why didn’t I buy black?” she asked as he joined her.

  Eye to eye with her again, he suspected in thanks to a pair of tall shoes hiding under her dress, Connor pressed his lips to hers, heedless of the glittery gloss being transferred to his mouth.

  When he pulled back, her worried expression had faded. She lifted her thumb and brushed his bottom lip. “I really need to not wear lipstick around you.”

  “I agree.” He leaned in and stole another kiss. “Why are you thinking you should be wearing anything other than what you have on? You are going to steal the show down there.”

  “That’s what I’m concerned about.” She twisted her fingers with one hand. “I thought black tie meant very formal, not literally wear black.”

  “I’m sure some of the other ladies are wearing colored dresses. Anyway, what do you care? Your only concern should be what I think. And I think you look like you need to be loaded into a stagecoach drawn by horses.”

  “Thank you.” Her smile was almost shy as she looked at the floor. Her long blond hair appeared a little bit shorter than usual, every piece of it wound in big springy curls covering her shoulders and pouring down her arms.

  “Although, if you really want to get out of that dress…”

  Not missing his meaning—and how could she when they tore one another’s clothes off at every opportunity?—she swatted his arm.

  He offered his elbow. “Come on, Cupcake. You may look good enough to eat, but I’m saving that for later. We’ll dance instead.”

  They took the stairs one by one. “You dance?”

  “Well.”

  “You are a man of many surprises, Connor McClain.”

  He glanced at her as they stepped into the foyer. “I hope you’re not saying that because you are easily impressed, Faith Garrett.”

  There was a kid—probably not a day over twenty—dressed in a smart black suit manning the door. When the bell rang, he pulled it open and ushered in from the cold a shivering Gloria Shields.

  “Oh my gosh, could it be any colder here? I’m from Chicago and I’m freaking freezing.”

  The kid’s face flinched into a smile, and Connor didn’t miss when the guy’s eyes dipped to Gloria’s assets the moment she slipped out of her long black coat.

  “Oh, thank God,” Faith breathed, pressing a hand to her chest. “You wore purple. I could kiss you.”

  The kid at the door lifted his eyebrows in a look that said, I’d pay to see that.

  Not Connor. Faith was all his. He didn’t want her lips being kissed by anyone, male or female, ever again. Faith scuttled over to Gloria and while they complimented each other and laughed, he stood statue still as that last thought echoed in his mind.

  He didn’t want Faith to be kissed by anyone other than him. Ever again.

  After they’d made love last night, he had determined there wasn’t another word for it. Sex was one thing, screwing was another. But being in her bed, under her gaze, wrapped in her arms and legs, sharing the same air…

  It was a done deal. Faith was it. Too soon to tell her, but he did not have a problem showing her. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Glo, you’d better let me escort you.” Connor offered his free elbow to Gloria, when Faith took his other arm. “I can’t let you walk around unchaperoned looking this beautiful.”

  “I got her.”

  Asher Knight, out of his required uniform of torn jeans and a threadbare black T-shirt, stepped into the foyer. His tux was black, his shirt was black, and he had even worn a bow tie.

  Connor felt Gloria’s hand tighten around his forearm as Asher’s eyes clashed with hers. He knew that look. It was the way Connor looked at Faith. Difference was, Faith didn’t recoil from him the way Gloria was recoiling from Asher now.

  Fuck if he could blame her. Ash had not only slept with a girl shortly before he and Gloria started their thing, but he’d gotten the girl pregnant. Maybe. Connor wondered how soon Ash would find out if the boy was his.

  “Come on, Sarge.” Asher offered his hand. “We can be professional. We are here on business.”

  Stubborn as she was beautiful, Gloria lifted her chin in defiance. Her sleek black hair slipped over her shoulder as she regarded Connor with earnest blue eyes. Earnest, but hard. She struck him as a woman who had seen a lot of hell. Maybe not as much as him, but this wasn’t a contest. Hell was hell depending on who the person was. And Connor guessed some of that hell was hell Ash put her through.

  Helping his buddy out, because quite frankly everyone made mistakes, and Asher struck him as a guy who was at least trying to make up for them, Connor jerked his chin at Gloria. “Go with him. He gives you any trouble, I’ll beat his ass.”

  To his surprise, the normally sharp-tongued, smirking rock star nodded his agreement. “I accept those terms. Sarge?”

  Loosening her hand from around Connor’s forearm, Gloria slipped her hand into Asher’s palm. He tucked her arm into the crook of his, turned with her, and walked through the foyer. As he did, he dipped his head and whispered into her ear.

  A shiver overtook her shoulders in the strapless purple gown she wore, suggesting Asher affected her on a far deeper level than she would ever admit.

  “Ready?” Connor asked his date.

  Faith took her eyes off her friends to look over at him, a sentiment in their depths suggesting she had not missed what happened between Gloria and Asher, either. Question was, was she going to continue avoiding her feelings in the same way after Connor admitted his?

  Too soon, part of him warned. He may be younger, but he was wise. He had a lot of life experience. Experience that made him more mature than he should be. Still, if she couldn’t see what was between them now, part of him wondered if she ever would.

  “Ready,” she confirmed.

  He breached the few inches separating them and caught her lips in his. But he noticed she leaned in and kissed him a little bit longer than was polite. He noticed because the kid at the door cleared his throat.

  Connor didn’t care. Her leaning on him was a good sign. He’d like her to lean on him a bit more.

  A lot more.

  CHAPTER 19

  Connor was not kidding about being able to dance. She’d noticed before he was both big and agile, and as he spun her around the dance floor, she became more convinced that his agility was somewhat superhuman. Even when the beat picked up, he was able to hold her tight, lead with confidence, and avoid stepping on her toes.

  The bright fuchsia dress she had worried about wearing, while yes, beautiful, was an eye-catching garment. She didn’t think she had met a single person in the room who didn’t compliment her on it. Fitted at the bodice, it hugged her small curves from chest to knee, where the mermaid-style skirt flared subtly into a pile of pink fabric that just brushed the floor.

  A slit up the side allowed her
to walk normally, in the long-legged stride she was accustomed to. Every time her leg poked out of the material, Connor looked at her with such heat she wanted to drag him into a closet and show him what was underneath her skirt.

  What was it about him that turned her into a horny teenager again? Come to think of it, when she was a teenager, she wasn’t horny. She’d been reserved. Probably due to the fact she couldn’t have sneaked much past her mother. Oh and speaking of which, look who was at the bar…

  Faith had pointed out Linda Shelby’s arrival mid-dinner to Connor, who commented that she was beautiful. He was not wrong. Linda was stunning. Both Faith and Skylar had their mother to thank for good genes.

  “Wine, Cupcake? I’m parched.” Before she could answer in the affirmative—she did need wine, and a lot of it—he leaned down and took her lips in a very intimate kiss. “Although, I do believe I could subsist on you and you alone if pressed.”

  She tore her gaze from the sexy smile decorating his face, her lust fizzling as she met eyes with her mother. Linda stood across the room, giving them both the evil eye. Connor took Faith’s hand and started for the bar—toward her mother.

  “Uh”—Faith stopped him by bracing her hand on his arm—“maybe we could drink the water at our table instead.”

  He didn’t miss a thing, his gaze going over to her mother. He lifted a hand to wave. Reluctant, but bound by the rules of polite society, Linda raised a manicured hand and wiggled her fingers.

  Connor lowered his arm. “She can’t be that bad.”

  Faith let out a choked laugh. “Oh, yes she can.”

  He threaded his fingers in hers as they walked across the room, his stride confident. Faith watched as Linda’s chin drew higher and higher. Faith’s height was the one thing she did not get from her mother. Like her younger sister, Skylar, Linda was petite and several inches shorter than Faith.

  “Well, well,” Linda said when they reached her. “My daughter moves out of my house, I hardly hear from her, and the next time I see her”—she tilted her chin down to take in their linked fingers—“she is with a man that is definitely a different man from the one she thought she might marry.” That derisive glare slipped over to Faith. “What are you wearing, dear? Did you need attention so badly that you’d put on the equivalent of a fluorescent road sign?”

  Connor tensed. Well, Faith had tried to warn him. Ignoring her mother’s insults seemed to be the best plan of attack, so she plastered a smile on her face and said, “Mother, I would like you to meet Connor McClain. He is a professional landscaper, and he returned recently from Afghanistan.”

  “A soldier.” No telling if Linda was impressed by this fact, though she did utter a practiced, “Thank you for your service.”

  “You’re welcome.” He didn’t offer his hand for Linda to shake. Instead he held on to Faith and said, “I was wondering when I would get a chance to meet you, Mrs. Shelby.”

  Faith noticed he didn’t say it was nice to meet her. Probably because it wasn’t.

  “Mizz,” Linda said, heavy on the Z sounds. “Shelbys do not marry. You have a living testimonial of that fact hooked on your arm.”

  Before things got ugly, Faith needed to get him out of the snares of this woman. Faith had thirty-one years of learning how to deal with world-famous, best-selling author Linda Shelby. He’d only had a few minutes. But before she could interject, he spoke.

  “I assume, given the beautiful creature hooked on my arm,” he said smoothly, “that Shelbys do dance.”

  “Oh yes. We dance. I saw you two twirling over there.” With the lift of one fair brow, Linda said, “Light on your feet for a big boy.”

  Lord help her. Her mother was flirting with her boyfriend. Or…whatever he was.

  “She had to learn it somewhere.” He let go of Faith’s hand and offered both of his to Linda. “I’m guessing from you.”

  Eyebrows rose high on Linda’s Botoxed brow. “Surely, you don’t mean to take me out there.”

  “I have a feeling you and I have a hatchet to bury. May as well do it civilly.”

  Where. Had. This guy come from? She knew Connor was smooth with her, but the way he handled her mother was…well, it was impressive was what it was.

  Faith watched with disbelief as her mother accepted. Before he swept Linda onto the dance floor, he turned, palmed Faith’s jaw, and dropped a kiss onto her mouth. “I’ll be okay, Cupcake. I’m a trained professional.” That delicious mouth of his quirked into a smile, then he went to the dance floor, taking Linda’s fingers gingerly with his. Faith watched in silenced awe as her mother swayed to the rhythm and gave him what appeared to be a genuine smile.

  “What is going on there?” Sofie asked, appearing at her side. And, thank God, with a glass of champagne.

  Faith accepted it, guzzling down half its contents. “Connor McClain, Linda Shelby Whisperer.”

  Sofie laughed. “He is a smooth operator, I will say that. I didn’t know that woman was capable of being charmed.”

  “Yeah well, he’s in the right age bracket for her.”

  “Nah. He’s far too mature for your mom.”

  “Fact.” They watched the dance floor a moment longer.

  “He’s been through a lot,” Sofie said introspectively. “Life has a way of aging people unevenly.”

  Those words were still rattling around in her head when he finally came back to her. Linda didn’t appear to be completely tamed as she swept in the direction of the bar, but she wasn’t bucking in her saddle any longer.

  The evening winding to a close, Faith didn’t feel badly about allowing Connor to lead her out of the ballroom.

  “My feet hurt,” she grumbled.

  “Let’s get those shoes off.” Again, he gave her a look like she was made of melted chocolate and he wanted to lick her off his fingertips. She quivered. They walked from the ballroom, only to stop in the hallway. Raised voices were coming from the opposite end.

  Asher and Gloria.

  “We should go back…” she whispered.

  “No, I have plans for you. Their drama is not my problem.”

  Hoping that Gloria heard her heels on the parquet floor, Faith clipped down the hall alongside Connor. She didn’t mean to overhear, honestly she didn’t, but it was kind of hard to miss the conversation. She clucked her tongue, pained by what she’d heard.

  Connor pulled her closer and promised, “They’ll be okay.”

  She wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know the details of Asher and Gloria’s affair a few years back, but she did know Glo found a half-naked woman in his house in the middle of the night. As a woman who had experienced firsthand the pain of a cheater, Faith couldn’t side with Asher on this no matter how much she wanted to.

  Hand in hand, Connor and Faith moved from foyer to the great room. Immaculately decorated in gold and cream and with white lights strung everywhere, the room was elegant in its simplicity. Since this was where guests brought the presents, it was filled with wrapped packages of all shapes and sizes. A few oddly shaped gifts weren’t wrapped: basket- and soccer balls, a hockey stick, and a pink bicycle standing in one corner.

  There were so many donations, the packages wrapped around half the room. And, like its name suggested, the “great” room was sizable, which meant lots of presents. The drive was a success.

  The double doors clicked closed behind her and when she turned, Connor was flicking the lock.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need a minute alone with you.” He came to her in three steps and caught the back of her head gently. Then he kissed her, and like she always did, she leaned into him, putting her hands on his crisp suit jacket.

  “You look so handsome tonight,” she said, resting her forehead on his. “Never thought I’d see you in a tux.”

  His eyes, filled with heat and wicked intent, perused her silk-covered body. “Never wanted to tear a dress to shreds before.”

  She laughed as his palms squeezed her hips.

  “Wi
th my teeth.” He caught her next laugh against his lips, and she hummed as she fell into him again.

  “I’m in. Whatever you want to do in here. Under the tree? On the couch? That table looks sturdy.” She shrugged one eyebrow into a come-hither lift.

  Palm splayed across her back, he pressed his lips to hers. “All of the above. But first, we need to talk.”

  * * *

  Faith’s dark blue eyes popped wide the moment he said they needed to talk. He realized belatedly he may have scared her by that announcement. No good ever came of those words.

  “Linda Shelby,” he said, and he watched as her shoulders relaxed.

  “Oh man. I thought it was something serious. Okay, hit me. What did she say to you?”

  “It wasn’t what she said to me that matters. It’s what I said to her.”

  Her thick black lashes blinked. “What did you say?”

  He pushed the length of her blond curls off her shoulders and took her face in his palms. “She told me you were cursed.”

  A smile that was almost a smirk lifted the corners of her pink mouth.

  “And she said if I ever wanted to be married, I’m wasting my time with you.”

  The smile was gone. He kissed her top lip. And, very carefully, said, “I told her I did want to be married and I didn’t believe in curses.”

  “Connor.” A whisper.

  “I wanted you to know exactly what I said so she couldn’t turn it around.” He let go of her.

  Faith’s eyes swept to the side and her hands clutched together in that nervous habit she had. “She’s not wrong.”

  “She is.” Linda was very wrong. Faith was the girl he should be with. She may not know that yet. He couldn’t say he was ready to march down a white aisle right this second, but that possibility was not out of the question. For him.

  “You have such a big, beautiful family. And mine…” She shook her head, her empty stare locked across the room in dismay.

  “Cupcake, look at me.”

  She did, reluctantly.

  “I didn’t mean I want to get married today. We’re seeing what happens. We’re all in for as long as you want. Don’t jump off a bridge, okay?”