A Bad Boy for Christmas

by Jessica Lemmon

  The sight of Connor walking away from her had one very big advantage. Dat ass.

  She grinned in the wake of that swagger. His butt was snugly gripped in denim, along with his other, and her most favorite, appendage. And, man, could he use it. The man was sex on legs, and if that wasn’t impressive enough, he’d excavated into the depths of her purse to find her last packet of Starbucks Via and made her a cup of coffee.

  Curling her hands around the mug, she took another precious drink. Caramel flavored and he’d even poured in a splash of almond milk. And now, he was making her breakfast.

  Something about him being a keeper flitted through her brain, but she pushed it out again. Dangerous thought, that.

  The sun came out from behind the clouds, pouring in through the open curtains, and she turned to squint outside. Drawn to the window by the bright, almost blinding amount of white, she carefully kicked the blankets off and went to see what the day looked like.

  A long stretch of land dotted with trees—both evergreens and those without any leaves—was covered with piles of fluffy snow. Unmarred by animal prints, or human shoe prints—not even Connor’s from last night. The early hours must have brought more snow and filled in his tracks. The wind had drifted a white curve like a wave over the window’s edge. Snow weighed down the pine bows and maple tree branches, and settled several inches on a wooden slat fence standing on either side of the driveway. Connor’s massive truck was buried, snow almost to the wheel well.

  Unable to keep her feelings in about how gorgeous the landscape was outside her window, she muttered, “Wow.”

  “Nature’s majesty,” she heard behind her. Big arms looped around her waist as he relieved her of her coffee mug and took a drink. His front warmed her back, and she enjoyed the luxury of leaning against him, of being totally folded against his body. “Been a while since I’ve been snowed in,” he said. “Eighth grade, maybe.”

  “It’s beautiful here.” She sighed, grateful they had nowhere to be.

  “It is.”

  “Why do we live in apartments?” she wondered aloud. She hadn’t expected an answer, and was surprised to get one.

  “Don’t know.”

  “Especially you. You must love being out here, surrounded by this landscape. Imagine it in the summer. Green, full trees, the field out there covered with high grass.”

  “Not hard to imagine considering I’ve been caring for the land for a year now.”

  “Really?” She didn’t know that. As he talked about the tasks of clearing felled trees and thick brush, she could hear the excitement in his voice.

  “If not for the paperwork,” he grumbled.

  “Mmm. I saw the pile on your kitchen table,” she said. “I cleaned it up as best I could the night I…decorated myself for you.”

  His arms squeezed a little tighter. “Like how you decorate.”

  Like. See? Maybe everything was back to normal.

  “You should get a handle on your invoicing. There are a lot of write-offs for a business, you know. I’ve learned a lot from Sofie.”

  “Bet you have,” he said noncommittally.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to offer to help him get his business in order, but then, that wasn’t really on the table, was it? They were doing…well, each other, quite frankly. So it wasn’t like she should meddle in his business affairs. But part of her called her a liar. Because since she’d stepped out of that bathroom with tears in her eyes, things between them were way beyond “doing each other.”

  When that thought settled uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach, she opted to change the subject. “Tell me your favorite Christmas memory.” Outside, the sun glistened on the snow, making it glitter in the golden light. A breeze shifted the pines and flurries swirled in the air.

  “Hmm.” His low timbre vibrated pleasantly along her ribs. “Probably the Christmas I spent with Donny. Christmases with my family when I was a kid were nice—the way you get gifts and favorite toys. But the time I spent out on my own, doing things my way, was the best. And it was the only Christmas I spent like that. Then I was back home with Mom and Dad.”

  “Maya.”

  “Yeah. Maya.”

  “What was special about yours and Donny’s Christmas? That you got to drink way too much?”

  He chuckled and she liked how happy and relaxed he sounded. She drew a deep, satisfied breath.

  “I made him get a tree.”

  “Drag it in from the out-of-doors, did you?”

  “Basically. I did go to a tree farm to pick it out, but it was last minute and it was a sad, sorry-assed tree. You know, like the one at your apartment.”

  She elbowed him gently. It was like elbowing a brick wall. His laugh was soft and low and warmed the center of her chest as well as any cup of coffee.

  “Anyway, it was a scraggly tree. You think we’re having a Charlie Brown Christmas? You should’ve seen that collection of twigs.”

  She smiled at the idea of two bad boys cobbling together Christmas. “And then you two, what? Roasted chestnuts?”

  “Nah.” His voice went quiet and he handed back her mug, then wrapped both arms around her. “We talked about family. About girls. He told me bits and pieces of his past. I told him about Maya. We’d been split up for a while, but I was missing her. Or not her, but someone. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing back then.”

  “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing most of the time,” she admitted. She didn’t. She was firmly planted in adulthood and she still felt under-qualified to make major life decisions.

  “I think that’s normal.”

  “You seem to have it together.” He had his family, his friends, his own business. Sloppy paperwork aside, he seemed to be doing a hell of a lot better than most people twice his age. She felt as if she’d latched on to everyone she knew. She worked for her best friend, her mother had let her move back home last year, and now she was relying on Connor to taxi her around, to take care of her on Christmas…

  “Trust me, Cupcake. I am figuring things out, too. I didn’t even unpack my shit until you made me.”

  “Just one box.”

  He was quiet for a bit before asking, “What about you? Favorite Christmas?”

  She chewed her lip, stared into her light brown coffee, and drew in a deep breath. Then she told the truth. “This one.”

  “Faith.”

  “You’ve turned something potentially awful into the best holiday I can remember.” Eyes focused on the glittering snow outside, she smiled.

  “Sweetheart.” His hands left her waist and palmed her hips.

  “It’s true, Connor,” she said to the window.

  He moved her hair with his chin and kissed the side of her neck. She helped him out by tilting her head, giving him enough space to continue the exploration. He did, turning her so he could glide his tongue along her collarbone, to the hollow of her throat, back up until it curled around her earlobe.

  A sigh drifted from her lips.

  Earlobe in his teeth, he groaned into her ear. “Have an idea.”

  “You do?” she asked on a gasp. His mouth was intoxicating. Her body was already going pliant as she leaned into him.

  “Xmas nookie.”

  Her eyes flew open and she laughed, loud. She smiled at him and he smiled back. “Charming.”

  “You prefer eloquence?” he asked.

  “Are you capable of it?”

  Mock surprise colored his features. He stole her mug and put it on a nearby side table. “You kidding? Full of it.”

  “You’re full of something.”

  He flattened his hands on her back and tugged her closer. “I’m full of you.”

  Breath hitching in her throat, she tried but couldn’t make light of that statement. Like she’d been honest with him when she told him this was her favorite Christmas, she could see he was being just as honest. His eyes were sincere. His gaze intense.

  He didn’t let up.

  “My life is full wit
h you in it, Faith,” he said, his voice low, his eyes glued to hers. “Been a lot of years since I’ve felt anything but hollow.”

  Sensing something big was coming, she felt her body go from pliant to tense.

  “Especially in the winter.” His eyes slid to the side. “Everything dies. Different season than Afghanistan, but it has the same effect. Over there everything is dead because it’s so freaking hot. Here, it’s dead because it’s colder than a witch’s tit.”

  She wanted to tease him about his lack of eloquence, but couldn’t. His face was too serious, his eyes lost in memory.

  “Whenever I was home for the holidays, my mood was shit. The indoor greenhouse Donny let me build in his house last year helped. He knew I needed it. Having my hands in the soil, having a project, made the winter more bearable. But this year, hell…I didn’t have to bury my hands in the dirt to find life.” He focused on her. “I found it in you.”

  Oh. Oh, wow. She wanted to say something to ease the tension between them, but her mind was a blank. Her heart beating fast, her mind trying to process what he was telling her.

  “Watching you with my family”—his brow creased as his eyebrows drew together—“watching you light up when we decorated the mansion for the toy drive…I’ve never seen anyone in my life get so excited over lights on string. And the way you smiled when we sat down to It’s a Wonderful Life, listening to the way you laughed when I teased you. Can’t get any more life into the moments I’ve spent with you.”

  Her eyes were burning with unshed tears. She blinked frantically. It was the season. Christmas made everyone softer, drew people together, made them more sentimental. Maybe he meant what he was saying, and maybe he didn’t. She wouldn’t allow it to penetrate her heart. She couldn’t.

  “Wasn’t going to tell you this last night because I was afraid you would think I was feeling the holiday spirit—”

  Oh no.

  “But I can’t not tell you the truth, Cupcake. You deserve it. Regardless of the crap timing, the holiday, or the two negative pregnancy tests in the bathroom trash can.”

  “Connor, don’t do this.” It was a plea. Her eyes on his, she begged with them, too.

  “I don’t care if you feel the same way or not, but you need to know—”

  “Connor.”

  “I’m all in, babe. I fell for you so hard, my head’s spinning. I know it in my gut. The way I knew overseas when danger approached. That pit of my stomach certainty I can’t deny.”

  But he hadn’t known about the terrorist that almost shot and killed him, she thought automatically. His focus had been on the mother and child. On something beautiful, something pure. His attention had been elsewhere, not on his gut.

  She shook her head, sure she shouldn’t say that.

  “Quit freaking out and kiss me.”

  “Connor.” It seemed to be the only two syllables she was capable of speaking. He didn’t care.

  “I love you, Faith. Kiss me.” The pressure increased on her back. His hand left her to snag the coffee mug. “Or else I’ll drink the rest of it, I swear.”

  The tension broke and she laughed, a few stray tears leaking from her eyes.

  “Ah, there she is.” His smile was so pure, so genuine, she returned it. His lips came closer to hers. “This is as good as it gets, baby. Give me a kiss and tell me Merry Christmas.”

  He stole her lips and she went, careful not to spill the precious coffee he’d bribed her with. Pressing into him, she enjoyed his strength, his arms, his heat. She kissed him and decided for today, for now, in this peaceful, perfect landscape where they were together, she would allow his words into her heart.

  Just a little.

  It was the best kiss of her entire life.

  When they parted, his eyes were heavy, his gaze hot.

  “Merry Christmas,” she whispered.

  He handed back her coffee.

  “Breakfast,” he reminded them both. “Almost forgot.”

  “I almost forgot my own name,” she joked.

  He shook his head, smiled, and turned, walking to the kitchen. She watched him go, but this time didn’t admire his attractive form. This time, her mind was latched on to three words she hadn’t expected to hear from any man ever again, let alone this man.

  I love you.

  He’d really said it. Blurted it out like it was the truest thing in the world. And she hadn’t returned his sentiment. Because she felt a lot of things for Connor, but love…love was dicey.

  Love left her in shambles, practically at the altar.

  She agreed what she felt for him was an intense emotion, but in her experience, love wasn’t intense. Love was an emotion that was sure and strong, but subtle. The way she loved her sister, Skylar, or her best friend, Sofie.

  Maybe what she felt for Connor was lust. Okay, no maybe about it. What she definitely felt for Connor was lust. And what he felt for her? Probably the same thing.

  By the time she turned to study the snow outside of the window again, her coffee had gone cold.

  More proof that the longer things go on, the less appealing they become.

  CHAPTER 23

  The phone calls and texts started as they sat down to breakfast. Connor made omelets, loaded with ham and cheese. They were incredible.

  Sofie started texting first thing in the morning, right around the time Donny called Connor. Faith was sure Donny’s call had everything to do with a reconnaissance mission to dig them out, whereas Sofie’s back-and-forth texts were an attempt to extract sexy details out of her.

  Not long after Sofie promised to let her get back to Connor, Skylar called and encouraged her to call Linda Shelby. So, at her sister’s prodding, Faith hung up and called her mother. Linda may not celebrate Christmas, but she was glad to hear her eldest daughter was “alive and well” as she put it. She nearly made it off the phone without mentioning Connor when the man stood, lowered his lips to the phone, and said, “Merry Christmas, Mizz Shelby.” Then he winked at Faith while she rolled her eyes and did her level best to answer her mother’s prying questions.

  One thing was certain: Somehow, he’d won over her mother on the dance floor.

  Connor’s mother called next, and he told her he needed to finish eating his breakfast, then handed off his cell to Faith. Lyn wished her happy holidays before passing the phone to Kendra who tried to pressure her to come over for post-Christmas dinner and gifts. Faith didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no, and the only reason she got away with that was because Pennsylvania-based Dixie was not in town yet. Ken jokingly wished her a Merry Christmas with “my stupid brother,” then ended the call.

  Faith slid his cell across the table while he finished his omelet in two big bites.

  She’d seriously never seen him as at ease as he was right now—even in bed—and she’d seen him plenty at ease there. Something shined in his eyes—something relaxed and easygoing. He thought he was in love. In love with her and enjoying his first Christmas in a long, long while. And she’d made that possible for him.

  She wanted more than anything to let go of fear and jump off the cliff with him. He’d catch her. Probably.

  “What are you thinking so hard about?” he asked from the sink as he rinsed his plate. “I smell something burning.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “This morning, I’m guessing,” he said.

  He really wasn’t going to let this go. Further proving her point, he came to where she was sitting and knelt in front of her chair, scraping the metal legs when he pulled her around to face him.

  “Told you, Cupcake, you don’t have to reciprocate. You just keep doing what you’re doing. You keep being your sweet self, keep smiling at me, laughing at my jokes, and screwing my brains out.”

  Shocked, she drew a hand back and slapped one rounded shoulder. Her hand stung. She swore. The man was solid rock. Except for his gooey center. Gosh. He’d fallen for her. She loved the idea of that. Falling. As if he’d had no control. He was so much braver than she
was.

  In her mind, she clung tighter to the crumbling edge of the cliff.

  “There she goes again,” he muttered. His hands went to her pants where he flicked the stud of her jeans.

  “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

  He undid her zipper. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She gestured to her half-full plate of food. “I’m trying to eat.”

  “So am I,” he said, tugging at her jeans.

  She’d walked into that one. He untied her tennis shoes, then her jeans were off and he tossed her shoes, followed by her pants, over his shoulder.

  “Legs, Cupcake.” He pointed at his shoulders with both hands. “Now.”

  “I thought you were eloquent.”

  “I thought you were ready to come ten times.”

  She bit down on her lip and her hips jerked. A totally involuntary reaction.

  “See? I know you.” He did. Already, he knew her. Her body and, most of the time, what she was thinking. It was unnerving. He pointed at his shoulders. “Cupcake. Legs.”

  Giving in, because who could turn down this offer? Not her, that was for darn sure. She propped her sock-covered feet on Connor’s shoulders. He slid down, his width parting her legs wider and wider as he lowered his face between her thighs. He hummed in the back of his throat, and she felt that hum on her most private part, before the hot slick of his tongue was dancing over her skin.

  Then she forgot about her breakfast, dropped her head over the back of the chair, and tilted her hips toward his exploring mouth. She didn’t count ten. She didn’t count at all. She just let each and every electric shock tear through her body as she endured the assault of his incredible mouth.

  When he told her to touch herself, she obeyed. Impervious to the chill of the house, she took off her shirt and tugged at her nipples while she watched the man who had fallen for her work to delight her in every way imaginable.

  * * *

  He supposed it was a cheap shot to continue convincing Faith to do things his way via breath-stealing orgasms. Cheap, but sure as hell was fun. He could tell she was hesitant ever since he’d let her have it this morning. But he wasn’t the kind of guy to keep things in, timing or no. Her body was willing. Her brain, however, was resisting him.