There are two more duffel bags that look like they’ve seen better days. Reason tells me they’re Colt’s and Morgan’s, but it’s the matching suitcases, one in silver and one in black, that get my attention. Those we definitely didn’t get from the airport.
“Aunt Elisse! Aunt Clarissa!” Perry storms into the living room, where two undeniably Bradford women are untangling the Christmas lights.
They drop the strings and hug Perry as if it’s been years since they’ve seen one another. Maybe it has.
“Squirrel!”
Perry flies through the air, squealing with delight.
My gaze lands on Colin, who is taking in the scene with fondness. His gratitude for his family is almost palpable.
He cuts his eyes to mine. The expression in them becomes something unreadable, but I can’t look away.
He stalks toward me, and my heart beats in time with his steps.
“Welcome to the chaos.” He brushes his thumb across my cheek.
Briefly, I close my eyes, savoring every millisecond of his touch. It’s powerful. More so than it should be since we’re practically strangers.
Yet it feels as though I’ve known him my entire life. As if I’ve been in this living room every holiday to decorate. And I don’t understand the sensation at all. It makes no sense.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” The truth comes out without thought, but I don’t want to take it back.
His eyes flare as they flick to my mouth. It’s a completely inappropriate time to beg him to kiss me, but I open my mouth to do it anyway.
“I found the first orna-ment,” Perry says, yanking on my hand.
The spell should be broken. It’s not.
I feel Colin everywhere, and his daughter is a part of that. The moments we’ve spent together . . . are special. When I wasn’t looking, they snuck their way into my heart.
He clears his throat. “We need to put the lights on, Cupcake.”
Everyone stares at us. His palm is still on my cheek. When he realizes it, his face turns that glorious shade of red I adore before he quickly drops it.
“I know, Daddy. But now we don’t have to search for it later,” she says reasonably.
“Think you two can stop making googly eyes long enough to untangle some lights?” one sister asks with a mischievous grin. “I’m Clarissa.” She points at the other woman. “That’s Elisse. And you’re the unicorn.”
I’m pretty sure my face is red too, considering it feels like it’s on fire.
“I want to make googly eyes.” Perry crosses hers, then makes them bulge.
I laugh and copy her.
“You’re not making googly eyes until you’re older,” Colin says.
“We’re doing it now.” His daughter crosses her eyes for emphasis.
Soon, we’re all doing it. Perry’s sweet giggles fill the living room. I could’ve missed this, but I’m here, and I’m loving every single moment.
Mrs. Bradford puts on a Christmas record—yes, a real old-fashioned record—and Bing Crosby serenades us as we string the lights on the tree.
“It’s time.” Perry holds out the star-shaped ceramic ornament with The Bradfords painted on it, along with each of their names. As crowded as it is, there’s room for more names someday.
“You should do it,” I say quietly. I’m an outsider. This is something special. It should be family.
She smiles and hooks the ribbon around my finger. “I want you to.”
I pace around the tree, looking for the perfect spot. And then I realize eye level in the center is exactly where it belongs. Carefully, I hang it on a branch, making sure it’s straight.
Strong hands land on my shoulders. “Perfect,” that rumbly voice says against my hair.
Everyone nods in agreement.
I belong.
It’s a dangerous thought, one I should snuff out faster than I can say candle . . . but my heart grips onto it with everything it has.
“Yo, Unicorn. When are you going to bake more cookies? It’s almost snack time at the B&B.” Colt beans me in the head with a piece of popcorn he’s supposed to be stringing.
“That’s your job,” I protest half-heartedly.
“I’ve handed it off to you.” He grins. “And all this decorating has made me work up an appetite.”
“Me too,” Morgan chimes in.
“Are we decorating the tree or eating?” Mrs. Bradford asks good-naturedly.
“Both!” Perry shouts.
“Morgan, you’d better share your secret stash of cookies because it will be at least an hour before we can have any ready,” I warn.
He narrows his eyes on me. “You weren’t supposed to tell anybody about that,” he whisper-hisses.
“Son, Becky already told us,” Mr. Bradford says with an eye roll.
“She promised it was our secret,” he pouts.
“Give up the goods, big brother,” Elisse says, motioning in a come on gesture.
I stifle a laugh. This is what family is. Giving each other a hard time while doing anything to make one another happy.
I’ve grown to hate the holidays because they hold no meaning. It’s just another day Mom and I eat a meal together. We don’t even do presents anymore. Why bother when we can eat dinner and exchange gifts any day of the week?
Even before Dad left, we never had this.
“Psycho” blares from my pocket. Why didn’t I turn off my phone?
It’s like Aurora has a bead on when I’m happy and is determined to destroy it.
“No phones on decoration day,” Clarissa scolds even as her own chimes with a text. She makes no move to check it.
“It’s my boss,” I lament. “Or maybe my ex-boss.”
I grip the phone, which goes blessedly silent before it immediately starts again.
“You can use the kitchen for some privacy, honey,” Mrs. Bradford offers. “Well, as much privacy as this family will allow.” She grins.
I hesitate as I slide to answer and slowly press the phone to my ear.
“Do you think this is a joke, Audrey?” Aurora’s nasty voice shatters my happiness in an instant.
I white-knuckle the phone and fantasize about all the ways I could destroy it so I never had to hear this witch’s voice again.
Do you want to get fired?
It doesn’t matter. I can’t afford it. Not with this repair bill.
“Are you listening to me?”
The Bradfords all look at me with concern. It’s impossible not to hear Aurora’s shouts. Perry worries her lower lip between her teeth, and guilt as I’ve never known swamps me. She shouldn’t have to deal with my stress. This is a happy day.
“I hear you loud and clear,” I say, directing all my anger for hurting Perry down the phone. “I will get you that contract when I find the owner. Until then, there’s no reason for you to continue wasting my time with these threatening calls.”
This time, I hang up on her.
Yep. I definitely must want to get fired.
Chapter Seventeen
Audrey
“Do you ever think about changing jobs?”
Elisse ices a cookie with precision.
I stir another batch of dough with more force than necessary.
“More and more often,” I say through my teeth.
“The boys told us what she wants,” Clarissa says, passing me the chocolate chips. “They also mentioned how determined you are to find the owner of the B&B.”
I’m beginning to care less and less about it. My curiosity spurs me on more than anything. And the fact my bank account will have nothing more than an echo in it if I don’t.
Elisse places a hand on my arm. “You need a plan B.”
A plan B? I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. I pursued a degree in hospitality management and didn't stop until I found the career I wanted. Branding and compliance excite me. It’s what I'm great at. The six years I’ve tolerated Aurora and her impossible ways because the day-to-day gr
ind is fulfilling were worth it. At least it was until I crashed into Winter Valley.
It must be the snow. Or all these damn cookies. I haven’t eaten this many since I was a kid, and maybe not even then. My mother probably wouldn’t have let me.
“Um, Unicorn?” Clarissa points at the bowl in front of me. I’m no longer stirring the dough but stabbing it.
I drop the spatula. The wooden handle clangs against the side of the glass bowl. I brace my hands on the edge of the kitchen counter.
“All this stress isn’t good for you.”
Like Elisse is one to talk. She’s received so many text messages today that she finally turned off her phone. Clarissa has done the same. They work with bridezillas all day long, but they look . . . happy?
I’m sure if I saw myself in a mirror, I would not. Well, I would have a few hours ago because I’d forgotten about my job and been consumed by this family.
“Is it always like this here?” I ask quietly.
“Cold? And full of nosy neighbors?” Clarissa shrugs. “Pretty much.”
I snort. The cold isn’t so bad. And the nosy neighbors aren’t either.
“It’s impossible to do anything without Mrs. Pollard knowing,” Elisse chimes in. “Though I’ve never had my lover caught sneaking out of the B&B.”
Unlike me. Does everyone know about that?
“That’s because you’ve never slept with anyone there.” Clarissa gives her a pointed look. Elisse is smug, and her sister’s eyes round. “You have? Who?”
“The best man at the Franklin wedding two summers ago.”
Clarissa smacks her on the arm. “Shut. Up.” Then she smacks her again. “How could you not tell me?”
“I broke a rule. We don’t sleep with anyone in the wedding party. Or guests.”
Clarissa scowls as she swipes a glob of cookie dough onto her finger. “You should’ve told me.” She pops it into her mouth.
“You can’t blame me.” Elisse waves her hand around. “This place isn’t exactly brimming with eligible bachelors. All three of your ex-boyfriends are married.”
“There’s a reason they’re my exes.” Clarissa shoves more cookie dough in her mouth. “And a few single men are in town . . . or out.”
Something in the way she says out gives me pause. There are a lot of ranches and compounds outside town limits. Or does she have someone long distance?
I want to hug these sisters. For a fraction of a second, I’ve forgotten my predicament.
“But there might be one less.” Elisse has a tease in her voice directed at me.
I’m tempted to yank my hoodie onto my head. The rainbow horn would distract them from any further inquisition about what is or isn’t going on between their brother and me.
“Girls, I’m headed for a nap.” Mrs. Bradford pokes her head into the kitchen. There’s a slight look of terror at the mess in the room.
“Rest well, Mom.”
Elisse and Clarissa flounce over to give their mother smacking kisses on each cheek. I want to throw my arms around the woman for giving me a place to stay, for being so kind even though I ruined the dinner she’d prepared, and for making me feel a part of their family.
Instead, I remain rooted against the counter.
Mrs. Bradford is having none of that. She marches across the kitchen and gives me some of those same smacking kisses on the cheek.
“We’re glad you’re here, honey,” she says, holding me at arm’s length for a moment before releasing me.
“Where’s Dad?” Elisse asks.
Mrs. Bradford rolls her eyes. “Asleep in his chair by the fireplace.”
We all laugh. And even though I have no positive memories of my own father, I can see that Mr. Bradford is a great dad. There’s no anger on his face when he looks at his wife or his kids. He knows what’s going on in their lives. He cares. They all adore him. It’s so . . . foreign to me, but I can admit I wanted one of the hugs he gave when he saw his girls earlier. It makes sense why Colin is so good with Perry, and also, I guess, why his brothers are equally attentive. They all love Perry. They all love each other. Do they know how lucky they are? Maybe I’m the lucky one tonight too. If only for this moment.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The oven timer makes me jump. I quickly remove the batch of cookies from the oven and place them on the counter to cool.
“The guests are going to love those,” Mrs. Bradford says. “I’ll be down for dinner later.”
I box up some of the iced cookies and add some warm ones after she disappears. “I’m going to take these over to the B&B. Better late than never, right?”
“No,” Elisse says quickly. “I’ll take them. You’ve had a hard day.”
“The fresh air will help clear my head.” I’m hoping the cold will freeze my brain on the good parts of this day.
“Take a walk around the square,” Clarissa suggests.
I pick up the containers. “I’ll be back in a few.”
They glance at one another, and for a second, I think they’re going to block the exit.
“Be careful.” Elisse finally sighs. “It’s slippery out there.”
I change into my dried clothes and make it to the B&B without incident, slick steps and all. When I trudge into the foyer, it’s quiet. Like silent night kind of quiet.
I peer in the parlor, the breakfast room, and even up the stairs.
This place is booked, so where are all the guests?
There is a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. Maybe they’re taking advantage of all the outdoors has to offer. Why would anyone come to Winter Valley to stay in bed all day?
I can think of one good reason. He’s tall, ridiculously handsome, talented . . . in so many ways. And he’s kind. With an irresistible smile. And loves his family.
I have to get out of here before I do something weird like go back to the room where the magic happened and fantasize about every detail. Because that wouldn’t be cool, especially when someone else is staying there.
I display the cookies on a pretty tray. The guests don’t deserve a haphazard box of treats thrown on a table. Even if they are a little late.
I expect someone to return or stir. But there’s no one.
Not even a fire crackling in here as there was during the few days I stayed. Weird.
After dinner, I slip back to the B&B to clear the cookies and make sure everyone is happy. It’s not my job, but I need another task to distract me. I dread going to bed. I’ll never sleep with Aurora constantly screaming at me in my head.
And I never got around to snooping in the office that no one seems to occupy. I should’ve done it earlier when the place was deserted, but I’d wanted to get back to the Bradfords’.
Once again, it’s beyond quiet inside. The only light is a lamp in the foyer. I flip a switch to the chandelier so I can see to get to the breakfast area.
I nearly trip when I find everything exactly as I left it. Not a single cookie has been taken.
Where is everyone?
Chapter Eighteen
Colin
Everything in Winter Valley is within walking distance, which is why I don’t pay much attention to what I take to my parents’ when I stay overnight. Not that I do it often. Perry is the one who usually has slumber parties with her grandparents. So, of course, I forgot to bring a change of clothes for myself. Since I have to leave town at the crack of dawn, it’s best to run back home and grab what I need. I’d hate to leave tomorrow morning like a college guy doing the walk of shame before his seven o’clock class.
On my way home, I pass the B&B and notice Audrey coming out of the place. Wasn’t she already in bed?
“Hey, gorgeous.”
She jolts and stares at me with wide eyes, looking like a kid caught opening the cookie jar. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s what I’m wondering about you,” I respond. “Did you forget something when you moved out?”
She glances back at the house and shakes her head. “N
o, I . . . I wanted to clean up the cookie service. What about you?”
“I forgot a few things at my house,” I say in a low voice, leaning closer to dust some crumbs away from her mouth.
The caress makes her open that sweet mouth slightly. Her lips part, and a hint of pink from her tongue appears when she delicately touches her top lip with it.
As I run my thumb along her jawline, her breath hitches. Those noises stir something inside and get me hard. I want to make her moan, thrust, and scream my name tonight. There’s nothing or no one to stop me. Unless she doesn’t want it to happen.
I slide my hand into her hair, letting it fall through my fingers as I lean forward, my other hand lifting her chin slightly. Our shared gaze locks before I slant my mouth to hers. The cold around us disappears. I’m on fire, combusting as I kiss her without restraint. My heart quickens as my tongue sweeps across hers. Her arms wrap around my neck as we deepen the kiss while mine lower to her perfect ass, pulling her body closer to mine.
We’re wearing too many clothes, and I wish . . . I shouldn’t want it, but I can’t remember why this is pointless. All I know is I need her.
We have the night to ourselves. I’m so hard and ache to be inside her, dying to claim her. My head swims with lust, and I suddenly stop, remembering where we are and where I want to be. Inside her, in my bed—or any place.
“I want you so much,” I say between breaths, controlling the desire that threatens to push her inside the B&B and take her against the door.
If only I could yank her clothes off and have her fast and raw.
“Let’s go to my house?” It comes out like a question.
She clears her throat. “We shouldn’t . . . it’s late, and we’re staying with your parents.”
“Which is why we’re going to my place,” I repeat, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with me.
Holiday with You Page 9