Be My Christmas Treat : A BWWM Christmas Romance

by Nia Arthurs

  “Yes!” Tan and Moe leap with joy.

  Maxine laughs. “All stinky bottoms report to the bathtub!”

  Shrieking with glee, the girls take off.

  I face Maxine as I climb out of the chair. “Levonte will meet us there, right?”

  “Right,” she says confidently. “He promised.”

  But Levonte doesn’t show up before the pageant.

  We send Moe backstage with half-sincere promises that her dad is late in Christmas traffic.

  Mave arrives soon after, holding a bouquet of flowers.

  He meets my eyes. Smiles hesitantly.

  I smile back.

  He seems to relax.

  We file inside.

  The pageant starts.

  Maxine’s shoulders get more and more tense as the program continues and there’s no sign of Levonte.

  Mave holds my hand. Leans over. Whispers, “Do you want me to find him?”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  The program ends.

  The curtains fall.

  Parents get up to collect their children from the wings. We join them, finally spotting Moe in her little angel costume.

  She rushes toward us, her dark eyes jumping from me to Mave to her mom before they swerve over our head.

  I hold myself completely still.

  Mave offers the bouquet. “That was amazing, Moe. Really awesome.”

  “Thank you.” She accepts the flowers. Glances past him. Where’s my daddy?

  Maxine rubs Moe’s head, plying her with praises about what a gorgeous angel she was and how Hollywood producers would come knocking down our doors.

  Moe nods. Looks around. Where’s my daddy.

  We all bear smiles that will shatter.

  Moe stops. Studies us.

  Her eyes lose their spark.

  Her shoulders slump.

  The angel wings dab forward as if to protect her.

  Mave slaps his hands together, trying to salvage the disaster. “Is anyone hungry? If you don’t have any plans, my cousin and his wife arranged a Christmas feast.” Mave moves over to Maxine. “I would really appreciate it if you all could come.”

  “I want to go!” Tan lifts a hand.

  Maxine sighs. “Sure.”

  Moe falls into step with me as we follow Mave to his car. Max and Tan are further ahead so they can’t hear us.

  With her chin on her chest, Moe mumbles, “Dad’s gone again, isn’t he?”

  I want to tell her that her father couldn’t spell the word ‘commitment’ or ‘responsibility’ if I hit him with a dictionary. I want to tell her that he’s the scum of the earth for hurting her. That she deserves way better than that.

  But, looking into her sweet brown eyes, I can’t bash Levonte.

  My voice is as gentle as my arm around her shoulder. “He’s just busy, sweetie.”

  The excuse does nothing.

  As I knew it wouldn’t.

  Moe’s countenance remains heavy when we enter Leanne Antaya’s absolutely breathtaking mansion and meet Mave’s cousin Brendon and his beautiful wife Kayla.

  Kayla makes everyone feel welcome and her adorable baby girl breaks the ice immediately as she and Maxine bond over childbirth and childrearing.

  It surprises me that we’re the only guests today, but I think that helps with Moe’s mood. She and Tan explore the house like two adventurers and I even see her crack a smile when Leanne Antaya’s golden retriever, Buffy, barrels out of the backyard to play with them.

  Soon, the wounds Levonte inflicted are set aside, not because it doesn’t hurt but because we’ve all been through the routine before.

  It gets easier to focus on the moment when Kayla places a virtual call to Make It Marriage, all hilarious women who have us cracking up—especially the one with reddish-brown hair called Venus.

  Sunlight wanes on a Christmas dinner filled with warmth and laughter. I catch Mave giving me long, tender looks several times throughout the day, but I pretend not to notice.

  Maxine’s warning that I shouldn’t hold in my hurt has been riding around in my mind all day. Loving him doesn’t make me any less angry about his deceit. I’m finally embracing that.

  Mave and I need to talk.

  Unfortunately, there never seems to be a good time.

  Until later in the day.

  I’m looking out over the huge acreage where Moe and Tan, dressed in thick coats and gloves, are chasing Buffy, while Kayla and Maxine are watching them from the warmth of the downstairs patio.

  A pair of brawny arms ease around me and the scent of cologne overtakes the crisp scent of snow.

  I take in a deep breath, melting a little as Mave presses against me. Flashes from last night play in mind and I wonder if he’s going to ask me to go somewhere private.

  “Hey,” he rumbles in my ear.

  “Hey.”

  “Can I take you somewhere?”

  I turn. Face him. “Where?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Puzzled, I allow him to drag me down to the garage.

  On the way, I text Maxine to let her know that I’ve left with Mave.

  My phone chirps in response.

  MAX: Take your time, girl.

  MAX: Let him have it.

  I grin. Put my phone up. Study the landmarks outside.

  A familiar stop sign greets my eyes.

  My head whips around to meet Mave’s gaze. “Why are we going to my bakery?”

  “I want to show you something.”

  He nears the building and my jaw drops.

  The front’s been done with a coat of paint in a beautiful blue tone. An awning stretches over the front door, a perfect match to the hue of the walls. On top of the building, where the name placard should go, is a banner that says ‘I Love You’.

  My jaw drops. “Mave.”

  “Come on.” He eagerly hops out of the vehicle and opens my door.

  My eyes jump to the row of neat plants in front of the building and the brand-new door with the jangling bell.

  The moment we get inside, I almost faint.

  All my furniture’s been taken out and neatly arranged into a gorgeous set up. Photos of my cakes and pastries are framed on the walls. I can peep the kitchen from here and it seems like that room was decorated too.

  Mave takes both my hands and lowers his head. “Last night was—”

  “Intense.”

  “I was going to say illuminating.” His lips twitch with worry. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “It wasn’t last night that hurt me.” I pull my hands back and stare at his handsome face.

  The dark brows that knit when he worries. The piercing brown eyes that can flare with sadness or glint with desperately wicked intent. The lips that can kiss me to oblivion and turn my knees to jelly.

  Balling my fingers into fists, I swing at him.

  My hand bounces off his clothes harmlessly, but it feels good.

  “You jerk.” I take another swing. “You lied to me.” Another. “You made me fall in love with you without telling me who you were. “Another. My hair flings into my face as I put my all into it. “Don’t think you can just hire movers to set up my bakery and it’ll be alright, Mave.”

  “I don’t.” He allows me to let my fury out.

  I stop. Breathe roughly.

  His fingers caress my wrist. “I love you, Clark. I’m sorry for lying to you. And I will never lie to you again.”

  “Good.”

  “Which is why I want you to know that I bought your building.”

  My eyes bug. “What?”

  “And I’m giving it to you.” He produces an envelope from his pocket.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m not taking it.”

  “That’s too bad. Because it’s already yours. You can do what you want with that.” He hands the envelope to me.

  “Mave, it’s too much.”

  “It’s not even the beginning.” His eyes burn with conviction. “Everything you need, e
verything you want, is yours. This life,” he flings his arms to the ceiling, “the company, it means nothing if I don’t have you, Clark. If I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I’ll do that.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t breathe if you’re not with me. I can’t even bear the thought of losing you, so you can hit me every day. Until we’re both grey. Until our kids are grown and have kids of their own. Until we’re both walking with canes and rocking on porches. But I’m not letting you go.”

  Emotions clog my throat.

  My eyes fill with tears. “I’m scared.”

  “It’s okay. So am I.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re the most precious person in my life. Apart from Brendon and Kayla, you’re the only family I have left. I want to put you in a bubble where no one can hurt you.”

  “You are not doing that,” I say, laughing softly.

  “We’ll compromise. Three bodyguards.”

  “No.”

  “Just Will, then.”

  “That man has worked hard taking care of you all his life. He needs to retire.”

  “Should I move my office here? Keep working in the same building with you?”

  “You think I’d get any work done if you were here all the time?” I stroke his jaw. “It’s a miracle I didn’t burn every cookie I baked the way you kept hauling me out of the kitchen to the employee lounge.”

  “Now I really need an office in this building.”

  “Very funny.” I wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Will you accept me, Clark?” Mave nuzzles my nose.

  “Your past, your present and your future,” I whisper. “I’m trusting you with my heart, Mave. Only because you’ve taken good care of it until now.”

  “I won’t stop.” He leans down and plants a hot kiss on my lips. “I won’t ever let you down.”

  28

  Epilogue

  Mave

  I roll to my side. Run my fingers down Clark’s spine as I inhale a shaky breath.

  My pale hand against the near-golden luminescence of her skin hardens my body again. I drop my lips to her shoulder, sweeping over the curve and making a line down her arm.

  She’s so soft.

  So incredibly precious.

  Despite my rising desire, I’m careful with my touch.

  Clark barely got any sleep last night as it is, and I knew it was a sacrifice for her to come over to my place.

  The woman works harder than anyone I know. It’s the sexiest and most exasperating quality about her.

  In contrast, I’ve always known when to turn work off.

  Probably because I spent so much of my life running away from it.

  Clark’s in desperate need of a lesson in balance. She’s putting in a ton of effort with her bakery, running on full steam and insisting she’ll pay me back every cent I invested—a refrain I usually end very quickly with a kiss that drives her breathless.

  I tell myself to be patient and that Clark won’t be a workaholic forever. Just until she has the bakery on its feet.

  But it’s freaking torture when all I want is to whisk her away for a minute so we can both breathe.

  In place of that, snatches of time have to do.

  At the very least, it makes our brief encounters feel more urgent. I want to stretch out every moment I can spend with Clark. Especially right now when we’re both crushed with unforgiving workloads.

  This past week alone has been filled with activity for the company. On top of sorting the accounts and new projects Gran was working on, I had to deal with the police investigation.

  The cops found a way to get the video feed off the cameras I installed.

  The footage identified none other than Mrs. Linsdey traipsing through my office dressed all in black, spreading gasoline like a flower girl at some cult-like wedding.

  When they took her in for questioning, she admitted to stealing from the company. She was still torn up about the divorce and pretty bitter about the fact that she’d lost so much money pumping her own savings into the bakery.

  In order to make back the money her husband had spent buying into the franchise, she invented expenses to siphon funds and scrape the top off profits.

  Austin found enough evidence in the accounts to prove that Vulture had helped her cover it up. I had a feeling Vulture was responsible for hacking into the portal and switching the numbers too.

  Although he’s still ‘vacationing’, the minute he sets his foot back home, he’ll be arrested and charged with fraud and embezzlement.

  His bank accounts have also been seized and the money returned to the bakery. With that influx of cash, the bakery is now officially turning a profit.

  A happy ending if I ever heard one.

  Because of my newfound place in the spotlight, every step of the investigation was covered by the press. I had to give out statements and also appease the other franchisees who had lost faith in the company’s ability to choose liaisons.

  There’s a heap of documents on my desk filled with new policies the board is waiting for me to sign.

  Just thinking about work gives me a headache.

  I have no idea how Gran did all this with such grace and class. Most of the time, I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water.

  My only consolation is that I can do what I want.

  I’m not Gran.

  I won’t do things her way.

  I’ve already met resistance to my style of leadership. Which is to be expected. It’ll be hard for people to accept at first, but I’m hoping that I, the board, and the shareholders can meet in the middle.

  “Mave, it’s freezing.” Clark digs her fingers into the blanket. Reaches for me in a silent instruction to cuddle her. “Come closer.”

  “Might I remind you that I’m not one of your workers at the bakery?” I tease while obediently moving behind her and tucking my knees under her thighs.

  “Aren’t you?” she murmurs, her eyelashes fluttering as she hauls my arms around her. “You’re there all the time.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.”

  “Ask Francesca.”

  I chuckle.

  I told Clark she could have any employee she wanted from our main branch while she got her business up and running. Instead of grabbing Leona, Rosa, or even Stacie, she requested the woman who had come looking for a job a few weeks before Christmas.

  “I can’t bring Eva’s father back,” she said, “but I can help her mother out.”

  When Francesca got the call, she cried loudly and thanked us for giving her a chance. All the hardships she’d faced after her husband’s passing poured out of her. I was so moved, I asked Moe and Tan to help me pick out late Christmas presents for Eva and her siblings.

  We made a day of it, chilling at the playground for a bit, eating ice cream and roller-skating at the ice rink.

  Moe and Tan call me ‘Uncle Mave’ and although I’m not their father, I plan to step in and be there for them every chance I can get. That’s part and parcel of being in their lives and it’s a responsibility I take seriously.

  Clark moans. “What time is it?”

  “Early.” I brush my fingers down her silky brown skin. “Sleep a little longer.”

  “How am I supposed to do that with you rubbing on me, DeMarco?” she grumbles.

  “Is that a complaint?”

  She arches her back, wiggling against me like she’s trying to start something. “No, it is not.”

  “Naughty girl.” I roll her to face me. Kiss her deeply.

  When I pull back, she stares at me with eyes full of fire.

  Except this fire isn’t from annoyance and the need to strangle me.

  It’s with love.

  She laughs and her giggling breaks me out of my thoughts.

  I tilt my head. “What’s so funny?”

  “We’re meeting Kayla today.”

  “And?

  “I just remembered Maxine’s face when Kayla told her she’
d set her up with someone.”

  “You think she’s still hung up on Levonte?”

  “I don’t think she’s considered anyone but Levonte. Like maybe she thinks he’s all she can get.” Clark shakes her head. “I’m rooting for Kayla to find someone. Maxine deserves a man who can treasure her and love her for the amazing woman she is.”

  “It sounds like you have personal experience with that kind of man.” I tug on her bonnet.

  She grins. Climbs on top of me. Seals our lips in a kiss. “I do.”

  “Are you seeing someone else, Clark?” I narrow my eyes in mock anger.

  “Ridiculous.” She shakes her head. Runs a finger down my abs. “You’re the most amazing man, Mave DeMarco. I’m so glad I met you.”

  I reward her for her sweet words by pulling her into me, making her moan, and watching her writhe and beg for more.

  After, we shower and prepare for the day. Kayla, Maxine and Clark head off to their brunch and spa date while me and Brendon stay home and babysit.

  “This isn’t where you thought you’d be, huh?” Brendon asks, adjusting his glasses after getting drop-kicked in the face by a very excited Tanisha doing cartwheels in the yard.

  “Nah.” I swoop Moe up and tickle her belly. “But I’m loving it.”

  She roars with laughter.

  “Uncle Mave!” Tan jumps at me.

  “What?”

  “Me too!”

  I lift them both up and run around the yard.

  When I set them down, I return to Brendon who’s watching me closely as he holds his daughter to his chest. “You’ve got the bug.”

  “The love bug?”

  “Fatherhood.” He nods at Moe and Tan. “You’d be great at it.”

  I grin. Imagine a future where Clark comes home swollen with my child. Rubbing her feet in the evenings after work. Running out at odd hours of the night because of her cravings.

  I imagine holding her hand while she’s in labor and kissing her forehead after telling her what a good job she’s done. Waking up to rock a baby with her eyes and her smile and my amazing personality.

  The dream of a family with Clark persists long after Kayla and Brendon go home. It stalks me through January to November. It refuses to let me go through another year and another four seasons.

  So I do something about it.