A Very Merry Christmas: WITH Do You Hear What I Hear AND Bah Humbug, Ba

by Lori Foster

  She tipped her head, unsure where he was going with that disclosure, but hopeful all the same.

  “What about you?”

  “Like Lucius, I’m on vacation. This close to Christmas, women aren’t that interested in exercise. They’re too busy shopping and baking and fitting in all the holiday craziness. I have the next seven days free.”

  “Good.” He glanced at her, then away. “Will you spend Christmas with me?”

  Her heart soared, her face warmed. But suspicion niggled. “Because you want to spend time with me, or because you’re worried about the guy following us?”

  “Both.”

  At least he was honest. She looked at his mouth—and wanted to melt. “And because you want to have sex?”

  “Definitely.”

  Her toes curled inside her shoes. She gave it quick thought, but really, the way she saw it, it was a win-win situation. She smiled, and said, “Okay.”

  Four

  They returned the rental truck first, then went back to Marci’s apartment so she could throw some clothes and other things into an overnight bag. He should have been exhausted, Ozzie thought, but instead, anticipation sizzled inside him.

  While he waited impatiently, his mind abuzz with what would soon happen, he called the station and explained that the donkey was now at his rightful home. Someone else would take over, to figure out how the funeral home came into possession of the donkey in the first place.

  When he finished that, Ozzie roamed the living room and kitchen of Marci’s tiny apartment. Everywhere he looked, he saw surprising little clues to her personality. Tidy surfaces. Organized drawers. Light, feminine touches.

  Even her bathroom was devoid of the clutter typical to women. Everything had a place, and was in it.

  It seemed his sentimental, whimsical little elf was a neat freak. He’d honestly expected her to be scattered and somewhat disorganized. Ainsley had been so chaotic all the time, in her emotions and in her surroundings.

  But then most of what he’d learned of Marci today had proved she was not only different from Ainsley but from most other women he’d known.

  Her incredible vulnerability, combined with her compassionate tears when Magnus finally reunited with his family, had pushed Ozzie right over the edge. Marci was one of a kind.

  He’d have her today, and to hell with what Lucius had said.

  To hell with his own misgivings, too. Getting too involved with her might be a bad idea, but he couldn’t resist the sexual lure any longer.

  As he left the bathroom, he thought he heard her muffled chatter. Cocking a brow, he called out, “Marci?”

  “Be right there.”

  Curious now, Ozzie wandered to her bedroom door and silently pressed it open. He found Marci on her knees beside the bed, looking under it.

  The position elevated her sexy backside and put thoughts of sex on the fast track in his brain. “Damn, I love your ass.”

  Laughing, she looked over her shoulder at him. She balanced herself on one hand, and with the other she held a phone to her ear. “Sorry. I can’t find my car keys. They’re here somewhere. The donkey sort of bumped things around so I think they must’ve fallen off the nightstand—”

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “My sister.”

  “So your sister knew you’d stolen a donkey? Does that mean Lucius knew?”

  Suddenly Marci blushed and whispered into the phone, “No, Bethany. No, that’s not what he said.”

  She cast an uncomfortable look at Ozzie, but he wasn’t about to budge.

  In an even lower tone, her face red-hot, she said, “Not me, my ass.”

  Ozzie grinned. So, Bethany had heard his comment about Marci’s backside.

  “It’s not at all the same thing,” Marci argued while turning her back on him. “I have to go. Yes, I know. You, too.” When Marci faced him again, she wouldn’t meet his gaze, and that bothered Ozzie enough that he decided not to tease her.

  “You don’t need your keys. I’ll drive.”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. You’ll be at work at night and I don’t want to be stranded.”

  That made sense, so he let it go. “Then let’s find the keys and get out of here before the roads get any worse.”

  As he started to bend down to help her look, she straightened with the keys in her hand. “Got ’em.” Still flustered, she started to close her overnight bag, and Ozzie noticed the thermal pajamas she’d included.

  “You won’t need those.”

  She nudged him aside and shoved the bag shut. “Maybe not tonight, but after that…Um. I am staying more than one night, right?”

  Damn, but her uncertainty got to him. Catching her shoulders, Ozzie drew her toward him and kissed her soft mouth. “Through Christmas, if you like.”

  “I like,” she whispered back.

  She tried to kiss him again, but he leaned out of reach. “If we start that, we’ll never get out of here.”

  Her tongue came out to slick over her lips. Her big blue eyes darkened. She laid one hand lightly on his chest. “Well, my bed is right—”

  “No.” She’d be the death of him. From one second to the next, he got so primed he hurt. “I don’t want to start anything here, because I haven’t been to bed yet. Let’s get to my place so I can sleep afterward.” If she objected to his third-shift lifestyle, better to find out now.

  Her touch went from seducing to soothing. “I bet you’re pretty exhausted, huh? You’ve been up so long now.”

  He was horny, not sleepy, but he didn’t say so. “If it’d been a normal day, I could just stay up and sleep tonight. But it’s been nonstop since I got to work.”

  “How come?”

  He shrugged. “We had a barricade/hostage situation with lots of gunfire. Everything worked out, but that kind of situation gets the adrenaline pumping. When it fades, so does the energy level.”

  “And then I dragged you into my donkey adventure.” She looked up at him with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “Actually, returning Magnus to his rightful owners was nice.” The highlight of the day—if he discounted the intimacy he’d shared with her.

  He kissed her again, quick and hard, then hauled up her bag. “Let’s go.”

  On their way out of the bedroom, she said, “I just need to let the others know where I’ll be.”

  That stalled him. Telling her sister was one thing, but, damn Lucius, the apartment building overflowed with busybody women. He didn’t want them all privy to his business. “You’re going to advertise what we’re doing?”

  She looked up at him, saw his discomfort, and laughed. Catching him by the front of his shirt, she towed him along.

  “I won’t shout it from the rooftops, but all the tenants are close and I don’t want anyone to worry when they don’t see me around.”

  “Why would they worry?”

  “We’re all single women, so we look out for each other. Now, come on, quit dragging your feet.”

  A minute later, Ozzie stood still in the hallway, surrounded by curious female gazes. After the first knock on her next-door neighbor’s door, every other door opened.

  Marci said, “I’m going to spend Christmas with Osbourne,” and that started a barrage of questions, accompanied by several skeptical glares in his direction.

  A lesser man would have withered under such scrutiny, but Ozzie held tough. When the babbling finally calmed, he said, “Ladies,” and he took Marci’s arm to lead her outside.

  It was like walking the gauntlet.

  Women of various ages and professions watched them every step of the way, some of them whispering, some laughing, one whistling, and overall acting bawdy and suggestive.

  When they were out of sight of prying eyes, he allowed himself to grin. It pleased him that Marci had such close friends. She often seemed so dreamy, that he’d worried about her. But she was obviously very well liked.

  “I’ll follow you,” she said, breaking into his thoughts,
“since I don’t know where you live.”

  “All right, but stay close. And keep your cell phone on. The road crews might not have gotten out yet and the streets could be bad.”

  She put a wool-covered finger to his mouth. “I know how to drive in the snow, Osbourne. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”

  Snowflakes gathered on her nose and lashes again. He shook his head, opened the driver’s door to her blue Dodge Neon, and set her overnight bag on the passenger seat.

  Marci got behind the wheel to start the engine and turn on the heat. Ozzie went to his truck, got a windshield scraper, and came back to clean away the ice and snow so she’d have a clear view.

  Rather than sit in the car as it warmed, Marci got out with her own scraper and helped. It was a good ten minutes before her car was drivable.

  The roads weren’t as bad as he’d feared. They made decent time, all things considered. He drove cautiously, constantly checking on her and at the same time watching for that idiotic reporter. He thought he spotted the van once, but with so much blustering wind and drifting snow, he couldn’t be sure.

  The house his grandma had left him sat on an isolated twelve acres, surrounded by woods and overgrown fields. Not since her early days had she done any farming, but she’d been too content with her privacy to sell the land. She hadn’t been rich, except in spirit and love, but she’d never really wanted for anything, either.

  When they reached the long driveway, Ozzie pulled over and instructed Marci to precede him. He wanted to make sure no one followed them. She looked at him curiously through the frosty window, but did as he asked. No other cars came into view, so after a few minutes, Ozzie joined her under the sloping carport roof.

  In the gray light, the house showed its age. All along the foundation and walkway, dead, brittle weeds and wild shrubs poked up from the snow. Stark, multipaned windows were in desperate need of cleaning. Ancient patio furniture had all been moved to one side of the porch, giving the appearance of a salvage yard.

  He’d have to explain to Marci, to make her understand that he’d wanted to update his grandmother’s house, but she’d refused to let him spend a dime of his own money. As he stepped out of his truck, she got out, too, and she looked around with awe.

  “Osbourne,” she breathed, “it’s incredible.”

  Explanations died on his tongue. He retrieved her bag, saying, “It needs some work.”

  “It’s charming. And look at all that land. How much of it is yours?”

  The temperature hung in the twenties, and Marci had her arms around herself. Yet she still stood staring out at the vast expanse of snow-covered acreage.

  “All of it. In front of us, it goes all the way to the road. To the sides, it includes the woods, and some into the clearing, up to the fence line. Behind us it runs to the creek. Twelve acres in all.”

  “A creek.” She whirled to face him. “Maybe tomorrow you can show me?”

  His mouth, half-frozen, lifted into a smile. She was the charming one, so delighted with everything, so nonjudgmental. “Sure. We’ll make a snowman. Come on. It’ll be a lot warmer inside.” He led her to a door on the other side of the carport. “I usually park in the barn, but this is closer.”

  She stared down at the bottom half of the door. “Is that a doggie entrance?”

  “Yeah. Grimshaw uses it. He was Granny’s dog, but now he’s mine.”

  The carport opened into a heated mudroom, so that when Ozzie worked, Grimshaw could get into the warmth of the house or outside to run, as his mood led him. Another doggie door opened into the main house, and when Ozzie was home, he kept it unlatched. But for reasons of safety, he secured it whenever he was away from the house. He’d had everything from raccoons to skunks try to enter and root around.

  Expecting Grimshaw to come greet him as he usually did, Ozzie unlatched the door. But there wasn’t a single sign of the dog.

  “He must be out playing. He does that. And with me being late, he probably got tired of waiting for me. The area is all fenced, but even if it wasn’t, he knows his perimeters. He’s safe enough. And I’ve found out that he loves the snow.”

  Stepping from the mudroom into the kitchen, Marci asked, “What kind of dog is he?”

  “I don’t know. A mixed breed. That was the only kind Granny ever had. I grew up with all kinds of animals, but now there’s only Grimshaw.”

  Marci turned a circle to take in the spacious country kitchen with lots of wood trim. As she tugged off her boots to leave by the door, she said, “Wow.”

  “When I find the time, I plan to refinish all the wood trim, replace the cabinets and countertops, and install new appliances.” Never taking his eyes off her, he removed his snow-covered boots, too.

  “It’s amazing.”

  At the end of his tether, Ozzie relocked the main door, set her bag on the table, and put his arms around her from behind. “My restraint has been amazing. But no more.” While kissing the nape of her neck, he deftly began opening her coat.

  At first, she melted, but she quickly rallied. “Osbourne, wait.”

  “Can’t.” He pushed his groin against her bottom and wanted to groan. “I need you.”

  “I’d like to shower first.”

  “I hope you’re joking.” He got her coat free and stripped it off her.

  She turned to face him, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright. “But…I smell like a donkey.”

  Anticipation growing in leaps and bounds, Ozzie looked her over. “Trust me, Marci, you could smell like the donkey’s…”

  “Osbourne!”

  “Foot.” He smiled at her. “And I wouldn’t care.” She giggled, and that was enough to send him into a frenzy of lust. Scooping her up and over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll shower with you. After.”

  He bounded up the winding stairway two steps at a time, his hand on her behind, caressing her. Thank God, Grimshaw was out playing somewhere, otherwise he’d need to spend a few minutes greeting the dog and he just didn’t have the patience right now. Poor Grimshaw had become especially needy since Granny’s passing, and Ozzie never ignored his feelings.

  But right now, he had only one thing on his mind.

  After moving into Granny’s house, he’d taken his old bedroom, the first at the top of the landing. That’s where he went now to dump Marci on the big brass bed.

  She surprised him again by withholding all arguments. Instead, she began stripping away her clothes with the same frenzied need he felt.

  Perfect.

  Watching Marci as she twisted and turned on the bed in her efforts to get rid of her sweatshirt, Ozzie reached over his shoulder, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and yanked it off.

  With her sweatshirt bunched above her breasts, Marci paused to watch him.

  “No, don’t stop.” Putting one knee on the bed, he hauled her into a sitting position and easily removed the roomy top, leaving her in low-slung jeans and a sexy white lace bra.

  To Ozzie, she looked like an advertisement. She looked like raw temptation. She looked…like a fantasy about to happen.

  A small, feminine smile tilted up the corners of her mouth and her eyes grew smoky as she watched him through lowered lashes. Baby-fine hair hung over her naked shoulders and her breasts quivered with her deepened breathing.

  He could see her nipples, stiff and rosy, against the thin bra cups. His chest expanded, his erection grew. Blindly, his gaze glued to her breasts, he popped open the front closure of her bra and at the same time, bent to take one nipple into his mouth.

  On a soft gasp, Marci arched her back. Her fingers sank into his hair and together they went down onto the mattress. He wished they were already naked, but he couldn’t seem to give up this pleasure to advance his position. She tasted better than perfect, and the small sounds she made, the way she squirmed, burned him.

  He switched to her other breast, then stroked one hand down her narrow rib cage, to the waistband of her jeans, then onto the denim to stroke that fine behind.


  “Osbourne?”

  He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

  “I’ve waited long enough,” she whispered. “Let’s get naked.” Her hands roamed his shoulders before going to his neck and back into his hair. “I want to touch all of you.”

  A shock of electricity couldn’t have jolted him more. In a nanosecond, Ozzie was off the bed. Their hands tangled as they both tried to attack the fastenings to her jeans. Ozzie gripped her wrists, pressed them upward to lie beside her head, and said, “Let me.”

  With another contented smile, she settled into the covers and let him take over. Impatience had her squirming as he opened her jeans, got them down as far as her knees, and paused to look her over again.

  “Osbourne…”

  He stripped away the jeans.

  Her panties matched the now-open bra. His gaze scorched her; his hand followed in the same path. From the inside of her left knee, up her thigh, over her belly and to a plump breast. She felt silky and warm, and so damn soft.

  He actually trembled.

  Forcing himself to a modicum of patience, Ozzie cupped his hand over the crotch of her panties.

  Hot.

  His guts clenched, and he accepted the inevitable. “I’m sorry, babe, but this is going to be fast and hard.”

  “Good.”

  Her agreement nearly laid him low. “I’ll make it better later.” And with that, he skimmed off her panties, and knew he wouldn’t last more than a minute.

  Marci edged her arms out of her bra straps while he finished undressing. He placed his pager, cell, and gun on the nightstand. When he dropped his jeans and boxers he heard her sharp inhalation, but he didn’t look at her. Not yet.

  Women always got giddy over his size; he’d learned to take it in stride. In fact, sometimes their enthusiasm almost seemed demeaning. Dumb as it sounded, and he’d never admit it to another guy, he wanted to be seen as more than a well-hung stud.

  Doing his best to ignore Marci’s stare, he pulled out a condom from the dresser drawer and ripped open the foil packet with his teeth.