Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology

by Christine Bell

  “Merry Christmas,” she murmured instead.

  Ryan had kissed her forehead and walked away—shoulders strong, head held high. And she’d let him go.

  She thought of nothing but him all day yesterday—Christmas Eve. Checked her phone a thousand times while helping her mother cook the Christmas Eve meal. Considered sending her own message. Even looked for him at the candlelight church service but didn’t see him. The disappointment had been acute, her chest constricting.

  Now, lying here in her bed alone, she pictured herself married to Ryan. The image crowding her mind loomed crystal clear—living in his house, sharing meals, working side by side on the ranch or the books, playing with their children. An aching need consumed her.

  Christmas was supposed to be a season of hope and belief.

  High time she believed—in herself and in love.

  Ashley had no idea when she had fallen in love with Ryan McAdams. It had come on slowly perhaps, over the years, or all in a rush when they’d made love, or perhaps a little of both as she came to recognize the fun- loving, kind, strong, dependable man she’d been friends with as a child, and whom she’d been too blind to see as an adult. Until now.

  She flipped her comforter back, shivering in the chilly morning air, and hopped up. As fast as she could, she showered and dressed in her favorite red sweater paired with black slacks. She took the time to do her hair and makeup, wanting to look good. Then she grabbed her purse and the wrapped gift she’d left on her dresser days before and rushed out of her room.

  “Mom?” she called.

  “In the kitchen,” came the muffled response.

  She hurried to the back of the house and found her mother already whipping eggs for breakfast.

  “Merry Christmas.” Linda Hughes smiled over her mixing bowl.

  “Merry Christmas. Mom…. I have to go out.”

  Though she didn’t appear too surprised, her mother raised her eyebrows. “Ryan?”

  Ashley nodded. “It’s important.”

  “Should I be concerned?”

  At this point the answer to that question was a toss-up. Fifty-fifty she’d come home thrilled or heartbroken. “Don’t wait for me.”

  Linda put down the bowl and gathered Ashley up in a hug. “Whatever you need to do, I hope it’ll work out.”

  “Me too,” Ashley whispered.

  “I suspect Ryan will be happy to see you.”

  God, she hoped so. She gave her mother another squeeze, then headed out through the garage to her car, parked in the driveway.

  The trip over to Ryan’s house took forever. She rehearsed what she planned to say all the way there and still wasn’t entirely sure of the words. Her hand shook as she raised it to ring the doorbell.

  Was she about to make a total fool of herself?

  Ryan frowned mid-swipe of the razor over his jaw. Did someone ring his doorbell? He cocked his head, listening. Silence. With a shrug, he went back to shaving. He’d been up before the dawn, getting his work done before coming in to eat and shower. As he made one last swipe, the doorbell chimed again. This time he was sure he heard it.

  He grabbed a towel to wipe off any residual shaving cream and made his way through the house. Who’d come to visit on Christmas morning?

  He opened the door, and his heart stuttered to a stop as he got an answer to his question. “Ashley?”

  He’d been damn tempted to take her back to his place after the wedding. He wanted to ask her if she meant it—her happiness for Eric and her sister. Because on their date, he would’ve sworn to a judge in court that she wasn’t over her ex-love. The longing in her face when she watched Taylor and Eric cuddle each other had been like a knife to his heart.

  But then Ashley showed that video at the wedding. Seemed to him a woman couldn’t put together something so emotional—and make it as nice as she had for Taylor and Eric—if her feelings were still tied up with the guy in question.

  Basically, she had Ryan twisted into knots.

  Late night after the wedding hadn’t been a good time to talk. And yesterday one of their cows had got wrapped up in a broken barbed wire fence, requiring his full attention with the vet until late.

  “May I come in?”

  She appeared nervous, her gaze not quite meeting his. He fought to contain the urge to yank her into his arms and kiss the questions from her eyes. What was she doing here?

  He stood to the side and waved her in. “Of course.”

  She stepped inside, and he closed the door behind her. With a deep breath, she pivoted to face him, her sweet, strawberry scent wrapping around him. She searched his face for a moment before she held out a small square box wrapped for Christmas.

  He glanced at it, then at her. “For me?”

  “Yes.” She thrust it toward him.

  Curious, he ripped the paper off and opened the box to discover an ornament. Three separate pieces of metal hung off a ring. One in silver was shaped like a house, with the words “1st Christmas at Home” etched into it. One was copper and shaped like a key, with his address engraved along the long edge. And the third piece was gold and shaped like a heart with “McAdams” engraved in the center.

  Hope and excitement thrummed through him, though he hardly allowed himself to believe. “My first Christmas ornament.” He glanced up from the gift to find her watching.

  She smiled and reached out to run her finger over the heart. “I saw it at the jewelers and had to get it for you after you reminded me about your tradition.”

  “You left your family on Christmas morning to come give me a gift?”

  Again she searched his face for a long moment, and he stared back, waiting.

  “I’d like to give you something else, if you’ll have it.”

  He glanced down, but her hands were empty. “Okay. Where is it?”

  In answer, she took his hand and placed it on her chest. “My heart.” The words came out in a whisper.

  Every cell in his body froze at her words, his gut clenching in reaction. Did she mean what he thought she meant?

  His palm warmed despite the soft sweater between her skin and his. He stared at her hard. “I need you to be very clear. What are you saying?”

  She drew back her shoulders, and the sweetest smile curved her lips. “I’m saying I’m in love with you. I’m saying what you thought you saw as longing for Eric was really for you—”

  She let loose a squeal of delight as he swept her up in his arms. “Thank God,” he breathed before claiming her lips. He meant the kiss to celebrate having finally won her, but it quickly caught fire, as the sweet taste of her burst on his tongue.

  Ryan groaned low in his throat but, managed to pull back enough to gaze into her beautiful face. “I love you, too.”

  Ashley giggled, even as tears sprang to her eyes, the sound and sight shooting straight to his heart. And his dick. “I hope so. Because if this is how you let a girl down easy, we need to work on your communication skills.”

  He chuckled but shook his head at the same time. “I’m never letting you down again.”

  She reached up to frame his face with her hands. “Let’s get one thing straight…You have never let me down.”

  “I was too harsh. I cut off our friendship—”

  She placed a finger over his lips. “You were a true friend, and you wanted the best for me.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I was jealous as hell and wanted you for myself.”

  He received a quick kiss for his effort. “Now you have me, what are you going to do with me?”

  He swung her up in his arms, heading for his bedroom with purposeful strides. “I’m going to open my Christmas present.”

  Laughter bubbled out of her. “Both of our families are waiting for us.”

  His steps didn’t even falter. “Mine aren’t. I was going over to your house this morning.”

  She unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and laid her hand inside against his skin. “Really? Why?”

  Slowly, he lo
wered her down on his bed, her dark hair fanning out on his comforter, a come hither look in her eyes inviting him to join her. Knowing she was his now, that he’d get to do this with her often—see her lovely face in the mornings—filled him with happiness. Sure they had some dating to do, and they had to figure out her job in Dallas. However, he didn’t intend to wait long before putting a ring on her finger. He’d waited over ten years for Ashley. They didn’t need a long courtship.

  “To convince you to give me a chance, Hughes.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you always call me Hughes?”

  Ryan laughed. “Ever seen The Princess Bride?” He leaned down and nibbled kisses up the side of her neck.

  “Uh-huh.” Her response came out breathy and distracted, and he smiled against her skin.

  “Hughes is my version of As You Wish.” He cupped her breast, enjoying the weight of it in his hand.

  She arched into his touch. “But you’ve called me Hughes since high school.”

  He tugged her earlobe with his teeth, delighting in her shudder. “Yes.”

  She pushed at his shoulders, so he leaned back. “You’ve been in love with me since high school?”

  “I was going to ask you to Homecoming our sophomore year. But Eric beat me too it.”

  Ashley’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” she whispered.

  Ryan shrugged. “You seemed happy with him at first, and then you never broke up. Besides, I did say something. Lots of somethings which you took as—”

  “As you criticizing me, lecturing me, and hating me.”

  He smoothed the hair back from her face. “I never hated you. Ever.”

  She licked her lips. “I think I took your disappointment in me hard because I wanted your approval. Maybe I’ve been in love with you this entire time too and just too blind to see it.”

  Ryan gathered her to him and kissed her with every ounce of love in his heart. He pulled back. “No more looking back, blaming, or wishing. We have our entire lives to be together now.”

  She feathered kisses along his jaw. “You are a good man, Ryan McAdams.”

  He shifted position, settling between her legs in a way she couldn’t fail to notice how much he wanted her. “This good man would like to do very bad things with you.”

  She wiggled under him in a delicious way. “I think it’s time to open your present, McAdams.”

  THE END

  Holiday with a Billionaire

  Mandy Rosko

  1

  It was December the twenty-seventh, definitely not Christmas, but it smelled and sounded like Christmas in the kitchen while Martina opened the oven, using a baster to pour some of the juices the enormous turkey was being cooked in all over the fat breast.

  “This will keep it from getting dry,” she said.

  Isla nodded, impressed as she watched, even though her face was close enough that she could really feel the heat. She had no idea how Martina was handling it, but the older woman seemed determined before covering the turkey again and closing the oven.

  She stood, smiling up at Isla.

  Isla wasn’t much taller than her, so she was still sometimes left with the impression that she was staring down at her mother.

  A mother who wasn’t constantly fighting with her father and in the middle of divorce proceedings, that is.

  “Are you sure you can do that?”

  Isla nodded. “I can do it.”

  “At least every half hour, otherwise the meat will dry.”

  Isla stared around Martina at the oven. It wasn’t that she was a terrible cook. She knew how to do the basic things, and she was the all time queen of a microwave, but the way Martina seemed to go about everything put all of Isla’s efforts to shame.

  Apparently, the silence was too long for Martina’s liking. The older woman sighed. “You, peel more potatoes and put them in that pot. We’ll boil them an hour or so before the turkey is ready.”

  The tone to Martina’s voice left absolutely no room for an argument. Isla ducked her head, nodding. “Right.”

  She was already in her apron, so it wasn’t like it mattered.

  Peeling the potatoes turned out to be a relatively easy process, at least. Isla’s family had been well off her entire life, but everything Arturo owned was worthy of a Gordon Ramsey style kitchen. The knives and utensils were professional. Isla’s wrists didn’t so much as get tired while she peeled the potatoes, and it allowed her to read while she worked. At least this was something she could do for Martina and do well.

  Isla looked at the brand name on the peeler. She was going to have to buy whichever set this peeler had come from. Martina, meanwhile, pulled out glass bowls of varying sizes before measuring her spices, onions, and garlic, putting some of them into bowls so tiny Isla had to wonder what the point of them was outside of holding spices. They were like the tiny bowls used in cooking shows, more there for decoration than anything else. Martina seemed to know what to do with them, however.

  Isla quickly checked her phone when she felt it vibrate. A quick glance at Martina to make sure she wasn’t about to get in trouble was all for nothing when she spotted the other woman, still focused on measuring her spices, but with the corner of her mouth curved up in an entertained smile.

  Isla ignored the heat in her face, which was almost comparable to what she’d felt when her face had been so close to that industrial oven.

  It was a text from Arturo. Okay, now the heat was a little worse.

  Miss you <3

  The heart emoticon made her insides melt. It was just a stupid text, but Isla couldn’t help herself.

  Ever since they’d gotten back together, and started dating again, for real, Arturo had been a little more open about everything. That included sending her sweet nothing texts like they were in high school.

  He hadn’t done that at first, however. He’d needed some gentle coaxing from Isla, which she was able to get away with whenever she texted him first. Then she sexted him a couple of times, and he was more than on board with it. No contracts required, except he did make sure to show her how to prevent her phone from backing up pictures to the cloud before she sent him any nudes.

  God, had she ever been happy he’d done that.

  Isla texted back a quick message, that giddy feeling she got whenever she was messaging him during work rising up in her stomach.

  Miss U 2. Cooking right now. Come home soon.

  Can’t wait to eat you ;)

  There was no way in hell that was a texting error or that he was talking about the food, and that caused heat to pool between Isla’s legs.

  Right, leave it to him to get her all hot and bothered when she was literally heating up in his kitchen and trying to concentrate with knives all around.

  He could be so sweet sometimes.

  Fool. Don’t distract me!

  Kisses

  She was going to make him pay for this later tonight.

  Isla resolved to ignore her phone for now, even when it buzzed again. Arturo was probably trying to tell her where he was specifically sending those kisses, and she needed to concentrate.

  She was just getting to the chopping part when Martina finally spoke up. “Why don’t you leave the rest of this to me?”

  Isla tensed. “What? No, I should be helping you!”

  Martina smiled, cleaning up the cloves of fresh garlic and lemons. “It would not be my first time cooking a meal by myself.”

  Except this time Isla had made sure the rest of the staff would have the day off, and it would be the first time that Orlando, Silvio, and hopefully Sebastian would be here to eat as well.

  “This is different. I should be helping you.”

  “You are.” Martina took the leftover spices and put them on their shelves. Everything else went to the double door stainless steel refrigerator. “This is very helpful, but you are the woman of the day here.”

  Isla shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

  Martina turne
d back to face her. She still had on that mothering smile on her face. There was something so light and pure in her expression that Isla didn’t have the words for it.

  “But you are. For the first time in years, all the boys have a chance at eating a meal together under the same roof, and they won’t have the weight of their father hovering over them. I think this will be their first proper Christmas meal together. I can already imagine them enjoying it. That is because of you. You did this for them.”

  Isla laughed nervously. “Well, next year I’ll hopefully be able to get this to happen on Christmas day.”

  Three out of four brothers worked for Calendri Corp, with Arturo leading that well oiled machine, so he had the most work. She didn’t know what Sebastian did for a living, other than he owned his own small business as well. Even a small business would require a lot of time away from home, and since Sebastian didn’t have the best relationship with his brothers, Isla could very well be praying for an after Christmas miracle here, but she was still going to hope for the best with this one.

  “The boys will be happy no matter what day it’s on. I know I am very happy right now. This was a wonderful thing you did, Isla.”

  Isla smiled at the other woman, and she decided to accept the compliment. “I’m glad you approve.”

  Martina didn’t seem to realize how important her approval was in this house.

  Isla still wanted to stay in the kitchen and watch over things, but the doorbell rang, and with no one else in the house to answer it but the two of them, that left Isla to go get it.

  “I’ll be right back to help out. Don’t do anything else without me.”

  “Like open the bag of baby carrots and put them into the pot? I can manage.”

  Isla really wished she was a better cook. All the little things Martina had wanted her to do were so trivial in comparison to everything else.

  She didn’t argue. The doorbell rang again and she had to go.

  Isla already knew who was there before she opened it, and in a gush of wind and snow Silvio and Orlando rushed inside. Flurries followed them before Isla shut and locked the door again, as if that would keep winter from breaking into the house where it was nice and warm.