by Chelle Bliss
“Just do it,” Mia orders me with a piercing stare while she cuts Stone’s food into the smallest pieces possible. By the way she’s stabbing at the meat, I’d say I pissed her off.
After pouring Lily a glass of milk, I collapse into the chair next to my lovely wife and begin to fill my plate without talking. Everyone is chattering around me, but I’m too hungry to do more than grunt.
“Should you be eating all those carbs?” Izzy asks, pointing at my plate with her fork.
“It’s Christmas. This is my cheat day.” I narrow my gaze at my nosy sister. “Mind your own business.”
“When’s the next fight?” James asks as he hands me the giant pan of lasagna.
“In a month,” I tell him, scooping out the biggest helping I can get away with without getting yelled at by Ma.
“We’ll all be there, son,” Pop says, which makes me smile.
My big and sometimes annoying family has been nothing short of amazing. They’ve always supported my choice to fight, and even after I quit and decided to go back, they followed my every move. Even Mia. I thought she was going to have a coronary when I told her I missed it, but the woman told me to follow my dream, even if it included pounding someone’s face in. I remember when we first met, she hated the idea of me being a fighter. She said it went against her oath or some bullshit as a doctor to watch me beat the piss out of another man. But I saw the fire in her eyes the first time she saw me fight. It turned her on, and she couldn’t deny it. Even to this day, she protests violence, but I always get pussy after a match.
Max wipes Asher’s face. I’ve never seen a baby eat as much as that little man does. When he gets older, he just may give me a run for my money.
“Let me do that, baby. Just eat,” Anthony tells her, taking the napkin from her hand.
His unusual selflessness and tenderness earn him funny looks from the entire table. Anthony isn’t known for his soft side, but he’s changed over the years. Between Max and his kids, he’s turned into a smartass teddy bear instead of the reckless manwhore he used to be.
If I’m being completely honest, all of us have changed. I’m still an asshole, but Mia makes me want to be a better person. I’m still a work in progress, but I’m getting there.
“Fine spread you have here, Mar.” Bear jams a chunk of meatball into his mouth and moans. His lack of table manners sometimes makes me look like a gentleman. I think it’s why I like him so much.
“Thanks, Bear.” Ma smiles. “Shit. We didn’t say a prayer and our thanks. Sal, sweetheart, can you start?”
There’s a collective groan before forks clank against everyone’s plates. I bow my head and hope the kids get so out of control that we eventually skip finishing and go back to eating.
“Behave,” Mia says and puts her hand on my knee.
“Higher,” I whisper with a smirk.
“I’ll go first,” Fran says, standing up and looking around the table. “I’m thankful for my family and my new husband. I never thought life could be this good.”
“Babe, I love the hell out of you,” Bear tells her and then stands. “I’m thankful for my wife and friends around this table and those who couldn’t be with us tonight. And thanks to Maria for the amazing food that’s getting cold.”
I knew I liked this guy. My stomach rumbles, and in order to speed shit along, I stand next before Bear can put his ass in the chair. “I’m thankful for my family and my little surprise, Stone.” I glance over at my little man as he shoves lasagna in his mouth with both hands.
The kids are eating at the next table, but no one seems to care. Back in the day, Ma would’ve knocked us into next week for not listening and saying thanks, but not the grandkids—they always get a pass.
I tune out after Mia says her thanks and stare at my plate. It’s like the food is taunting me, the aroma wafting up from the dish, making my mouth salivate.
Pop stands, clinking his fork against his wineglass, even catching the attention of the kids. “Let’s bow our heads for a prayer.”
Everyone grows quiet, even the kiddos, and we bow our heads and wait. Pop clears his throat before he speaks. “Today, as we’re gathered here together, I want to thank God for the amazing lives we have and that everyone is happy and healthy. Not only am I blessed with such love, but…”
He pauses and gets choked up. I roll my eyes because I know where he’s going before he even says the words. There’s only one thing Pop loves as much as his family. The Cubs. I’d never seen him as happy as he was the day they won. His life had been made.
“But my Cubbies winning the World Series was the best day of my life. I can die a happy man.”
“For the love of God,” Ma mutters. “I wish everyone a happy and healthy New Year. May we continue to be blessed in the coming year. Amen.”
Joining everyone else, I say, “Amen.” And I quickly do the sign of the cross before grabbing my fork and digging back into my food.
After twenty minutes of gorging ourselves on an obscene amount of food, the women clear the table and kick our asses happily back to the living room, putting us in charge of the kids. We spread out around the room, leaving enough space for our other halves when they return.
I settle into the couch with Stone in my arms. He’s in that familiar food coma too. His eyes are heavy and his blinks long and drawn-out. He’s fighting it, unlike me. I prop him on my shoulder and rub his back, making tiny circles until he’s fast asleep
I doze off somewhere in the middle of the conversation about the Cubs. The topic has become boring to me, although Pop is still as excited as the night it happened.
“Daddy.” Lily yanks on my pant leg.
“Yeah?” I don’t open my eyes.
“Can I snuggle with you, or are you still mad at me?”
I glance down at her and smile. She’s chewing on her index finger and staring at me while she turns her body from side to side. I pat the cushion next to me, careful not to wake Stone. “Come here, sweetheart. I always want your snuggles. I love you.”
A giant smile spreads across her face. She looks so much like her mother that she takes my breath away sometimes. She climbs on the couch, settling in the crook of my arm and resting her tiny hand on my stomach. “Do you have a baby in there?” she asks into the fabric of my shirt.
“No, Lily. No baby. It’s only food. Only girls can have babies. Remember Mommy and I told you that when she was pregnant with Stone.”
“That’s not fair. I don’t want to ever have a baby. Men should be able to have them too.”
Joe chuckles next to me after hearing Lily’s statement, and I pull her closer to my side.
“Just stay away from gross boys, and you won’t have to worry about getting pregnant.”
She sticks out her tongue and makes a gagging noise. “Boys are gross, Daddy.”
“That’s my girl.” I pray she’ll always feel this way.
“I’ll never love a boy the way I love you,” she says, melting my heart into a pile of goo.
I lock this memory away because I know soon she’ll be dating and will forget the words she just spoke. Someday, I’ll have to have a man-to-man with her new beau, and it isn’t going to be pretty. Soon, probably sooner than I want, I’ll be threatening the life of some asswad horny teenager about putting his filthy hands on my daughter, and Lily will hate me for it.
If she’s ever going to get married, it’ll take a hell of a man to survive my hazing. I don’t know of many fools who will willingly subject themselves to me for a piece of ass. The way I figure it, if he sticks around after dealing with me, then he’d have to be doing it for love.
When the ladies return, gift opening starts. Only the kids get gifts anymore. The main event, as I call it, takes hours. There are so many gifts in the room we’d need twenty Christmas trees to set them under. It’s obscenely beautiful. The kids are glowing as they take turns opening their presents.
“We have a great life,” Mia says, curling into the spot where my little
girl had been an hour earlier.
“I wish we could freeze time, Doc. I don’t want them to ever grow up.”
“I know.” She kisses my cheek, nuzzling into my neck with her face. “I love you, Michael.”
“Love you too, Mia.” I pull her closer, careful not to smash Stone. Somehow, he’s sleeping through all the noise and shrieks as each present is opened.
“We gotta wake him up.” She strokes his cheek. “Stone, baby, wake up, sweetheart,” she whispers. “He’ll keep us up all night, otherwise.”
“We’re going to be up all night setting up Lily’s presents anyway. Might be nice to have him with us.”
“I thought we could make love by the fire.” She smiles up at me and bites her lip.
She doesn’t have to say another word. I pull Stone from my shoulder and cradle him in my arms. “Stone,” I whisper repeatedly until his tiny eyes flutter open. He smiles up at me in a sleepy haze before Mia takes him from my arms.
I glance around the room, taking in the moment. My parents are on the floor with the kids, happier than I’ve seen them in years. Ma’s beaming with pride, and Pop’s already trying to make sense of the chaos of wrapping paper, boxes, and presents.
Joe and Suzy are snuggled on the floor beside the tree with Rosie, Gigi, and Luna. I don’t envy the man. There’s so much estrogen in that house, I’m surprised he hasn’t gone mad.
Max and Anthony are whispering to each other with Asher and Tamara in front of them, ripping open their presents and throwing the wrapping paper backward onto them, but they don’t seem to care.
Thomas and Angel are next to us on the couch. She’s sitting in his lap with her legs hanging over the side closest to us. Nick’s by Pop, showing him the new baseball glove as they talk about how someday he’ll play for the Cubs.
Izzy’s leaning against James as she sits between his legs with the kids near her feet. Trace, Mello, and Rocco are like three hellions, throwing things and tossing presents to their cousins like wild animals.
When I look to Fran and Bear, they’re oblivious to the chaos in the room. They’re into each other. It’s nice to see them both finally happy. I never would’ve imagined that they would be a perfect match, but they are. He balances her nutty with his crazy, and somehow, they work perfectly.
Even my cousin Morgan showed up with his beautiful wife Race. They were late, which is normal for them. Their excuse this time is Race’s ovulation schedule. Instead of being here with us, they’ve been at home fucking like animals, trying to get pregnant. It’s a reason I can get behind.
I take it all in and try to memorize this moment. The room is filled with so much love and happiness, it’s almost too much to comprehend.
I wish I could hit pause and keep us here, in this moment, forever.
How I’ve become this lucky is beyond me. I know the moment is fleeting. Time moves on. We’re getting older. The kids are growing up and will soon take our place.
~STANDALONE~
ENEMIES TO LOVERS ROMANCE
* * *
CLICK HERE TO ORDER
Agent: Kennedy Barnes
Target: Phoenix ‘Nix’ Ash
Crimes: Hacker and Heartbreaker
Mission: Get Close and Survive
* * *
GET A RELEASE DAY ALERT
Kennedy
While smoothing my sleek, chin-length bob in the mirror, I briefly consider getting my long black hair permanently colored this shade.
“I look kick-ass with bright blue hair,” I murmur.
My roommate Olivia scoffs as she walks into our tiny bathroom.
“You look kick-ass with any color hair, darling,” she says, struggling to pull down her tight black leather pants.
“Did you hit the chocolate a little hard in Switzerland?” I ask with a smirk.
“Fuck no.” She shimmies to get the pants lowered and then sits down to pee. “These pants are just plastered to my skin. I’ve been wearing them for, like, forty hours now.”
“Problems with your op?”
She sighs heavily. “You might say that. But I got what I needed.”
“Good.”
“Do we have any food? I haven’t eaten in forever, unless that shitty little bag of peanuts on the plane counts.”
“There’s leftover Chinese takeout from last night.”
“Sweet. I’m inhaling it after I take a shower.”
I walk into our living room and adjust my short black skirt so the lacy tops of my stockings show. My dark top has three-quarter sleeves, but it’s tight and low-cut, revealing the roundness of my breasts.
“Heels or hooker boots?” I call out to Olivia.
She walks into the living room and looks me over. “Boots.”
As I sit down and slide my black leather boots on, she’s kicking hers off.
“Holy shit, it feels good to get those off,” she says, rubbing the sole of one foot. “And what the hell is up with us flying coach, anyway? We’re out there risking our asses for intelligence information, the least our government can do is fly us first class so we can eat a decent meal.”
“You had a really shitty trip, didn’t you?”
She groans. “The shittiest. I got busted by a security guard, and he kicked my fucking ovaries into my throat.”
“You’ll have to catch me up later,” I say, grabbing my bag. “I’ve got to hit the office.”
“Good luck,” Olivia says, pulling the pins out of her dark blond hair.
The two of us have only known each other since we were paired up at the academy a year ago, but it feels like longer. The training to become a field agent for Greenlight, a black ops intelligence agency, brought us together quickly. We learned how to fight, use weapons, speak several languages passably, and covertly surveil people.
It beats the hell out of the boring desk job I’d probably have if I hadn’t been recruited by Greenlight. I have my brother-in-law Jude to thank for that. He recommended me for this job through his connections on the Senate intelligence committee. Only Jude and my sister Reagan know what I really do for a living. The rest of my family and friends think I work as a personal assistant to a demanding and very private executive. It’s how I explain working crazy hours and not being able to talk about what I do.
As soon as I step onto the sidewalk in front of our SoHo loft, a woman glances my way. Drawing attention as an undercover agent seems counterintuitive, but I learned in the academy that the best way to hide is to stand out.
And that, I’m damn good at.
Tonight, I’m meeting my handler, Rae, and then going to the Loft, a trendy nightclub with a massive underground operation. When I say underground, I’m talking in the basement of the club. Down there, high-dollar drug deals are made, illegal weapons are bought and sold, and more money is wagered in nightly poker games than most people earn in a year.
I got down there once with Alex Hassan, an arms dealer who loves coke and threesomes. Motherfucker bit down on my lip ring while he was kissing me and almost ripped it out.
I hail a cab, and as I’m waiting, a couple frat-boy types in shorts and T-shirts walk past.
“Hey, doll, you all alone tonight?” one of them asks me.
“Fuck off.”
“Bitch,” he mutters.
“Asshole,” I say loudly, turning to meet his gaze.
A cab pulls up just then, and I step in, giving the driver the address of a downtown bar.
Why do men always assume women are looking for a man? I can’t have an actual relationship because I can’t tell anyone about my work. But I knew that when I accepted this job, and I’m good with it. Hell, I’m only twenty-three. And I don’t think I’m meant to be tamed anyway.
The city is lighting up for the night. I love living in a place where anything can—and does—happen. I was lucky to score New York City as my Greenlight location.
“Right here okay?” the cab driver asks me as he pulls into a parking place near the bar.
“Sure.” I
pass him a twenty and slide out of the car.
I walk down the alley next to the bar and find Rae leaning against a brick wall, hidden from sight by a dumpster. There’s no one around, but we still have to be on alert.
“I like the hair,” she says, almost smiling.
“Thanks.”
“There’s buzz about a big weapons deal going down soon. Report back to me immediately if you hear anything.”
“Got it.”
“Have you heard from Alex?”
I shrug. “He texted me at two a.m. the other night. Total booty call. I didn’t respond.”
“Good. He’s all about the chase.”
I glance over at her. “Did you ever…”
With a low, single note of laughter, Rae shakes her head. “No, but I knew his older brother. Be careful with him. The Hassans are a ruthless bunch.”
I nod, my heart pounding. Rae has been my handler the whole six months I’ve been on the job, and she’s never warned me about anyone. She’s not the nurturing type. At nearly six feet tall, she’s lean, fit, and imposingly beautiful. Her long blond hair is always back in a ponytail, and her green eyes are sharp and knowing.
Rae was Greenlight’s top agent until two years ago. Someone at the office told me she was kicking ass and taking names on every assignment when she was injured while off duty. A gunman opened fire at a bank, killing seven people and injuring many more before shooting himself. Rae was shot in the leg and was left with a permanent limp, leaving her unable to work in the field.
“Have you ever heard the name Phoenix?” she asks me.
“Phoenix?” I consider before shaking my head. “No.”
“He’s a cyberthief, but on a massive scale. We think he stole more than fifty million dollars in Europe over the past year. There’s chatter that he’s here now.”
“What does he look like?”
“H-A-F.”
“H-A-F?”
“Hot as fuck, but he covers his tracks well. Report back on anything you hear about large sums of money being stolen or laundered.”