The Christmas Bride (Brides of Holland Springs Book 4)

by Marquita Valentine

  Okay, that was slightly dirty, but she liked it. She liked it so much that she got even wetter, he got even bigger, and the two of them finally got to moving like old lovers.

  He touched her clit, rubbed it so hard that stars sparked behind her eyes.

  She gasped.

  He moaned.

  She screamed his name, her body simultaneously bursting apart and melting. It took forever for her to be put back together, but she didn’t care. She simply felt and loved every bit of it.

  Loved the way he moved.

  Loved the way he held her close.

  Loved the way he loved her body.

  “You’re going to make me come so hard, darlin’,” he said before letting out a groan. “Squeezing me so tight I can’t think straight. Haven’t been able to think straight since I first saw you here by the pool.”

  Another groan from him as he shoved into her so hard that the mattress hit the headboard. He held himself rigid over her, his throat working and his eyes closed in pain.

  Or maybe pleasure.

  Finally, he opened his eyes and gazed down her, a smile on his lips so caring that her breath fled her body. “You okay?”

  She blinked up at him and nodded.

  “Guess I’ll go get something to clean us up.” He made to leave, but she wrapped herself tightly around him. Their skin was slick with sweat, and she was hot. Hotter than she’d ever been. But she didn’t want him to go, didn’t want him to pull out of her.

  A low laugh rumbled in his chest. “Guess I won’t be going anywhere.”

  “Nope,” she said, suddenly lethargic. She yawned. “You have to stay.”

  He lightly kissed her nose and forehead, then rolled them on their sides, legs becoming tangled up in one another.

  She let out a dreamy sigh—she was full of those tonight. Hopefully, every night would be full of dreamy sighs for now on.

  Logan began to massage the back of her neck, not saying a word. He didn’t have to. Based on what had just happened between them, there was no need.

  “I love you,” she breathed as his fingers stilled.

  His reply was a snore.

  Chapter Six

  There was nothing like waking up to a soft woman in his bed with her tits against the arm he had wrapped around her. She was scooted up so tightly against him that his dick was practically surrounded by the cheeks of her ass.

  Automatically, he thrust forward, enjoying the friction.

  Wait a minute. Whose bed was he in?

  Squinting, he opened one eye and found Willow curled up next to him like a kitten.

  Why was she— Memories of last night crashed over him. Dinner, Penn & Teller, the traveling bar, the chapel...

  “Fuck me sideways,” he growled. “We’re married.”

  “Can you keep it down a little?” his wife said in an adorable, sleep-filled voice. “I’m not ready to wake up.”

  “Try to anyway. We got married.”

  She nodded, turning toward him, her perfect breasts sliding along his arm and making him even harder. “I know.”

  “And you’re okay with that?” His question came out more accusatory than he meant, but he was in panic mode, and, unlike in military situations, he wasn’t trained for this.

  “Well, now that you’ve said something, I’m not.” A frown marred her lips. “Can you let go of me?”

  He moved over, way over to the other side, and watched while she covered up her sweet curves and silky, pale skin. He had his mouth on her last night. His dick in her, too.

  He glanced down, then back at her. Shit, had they used protection? He couldn’t remember wrapping it up.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  Dark hair tumbled around her shoulders while the lavender circles under her eyes made them seem bluer. She looked like a nymph, a winter nymph who’d come to seduce him.

  “No.” She shrank back from him, her eyes wide and her mouth trembling. “I didn’t think about it because we got married, and I’m... I was a virgin, so ...”

  A virgin? This had to be some kind of joke.

  “Obviously, I was stupid to not think of protection,” she added.

  “You weren’t the only one,” he said, earning a look of pure outrage from her.

  “You don’t have to be a jerk about it.” She stood up, taking the sheet with her. It dipped low enough in the back that he could see her plump ass and smooth back.

  “One of us has to quit being stupid and think of the consequences. You could be pregnant,” he said, equal parts terrified and pleased. Except being pleased made him even more terrified.

  What in the hell would he do with a baby?

  “Is that all I could be?” she asked, her lashes flickering to his crotch.

  His lips twisted. “Always used protection... until last night. Always got tested, too. Thought I was doing the right thing because I was worried about what shit I might have picked up when someone bled all over me.”

  Some of the anger left her gaze, then she sighed. “Can we start all over again?”

  “And not get married? I wish.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was the worst possible thing to say to her. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  ***

  Her cheeks heated and cold embarrassment invaded every pore of her body. Her husband, with his messy, black hair, whiskey-colored eyes, and muscles for days, didn’t want her. Worse, he wished he never married her.

  Worse still, she might be pregnant.

  The air was sucked right out of her. So stupid. Why hadn’t she spoken up?

  Why would she have? They were married, for goodness sake, and it wasn’t on her mind. Only her hormones were.

  “This was obviously a mistake. A really stupid mistake,” Willow said as she got dressed. Cool air hit her, making her nipples pucker in the lace cups. She slipped on her dress and zipped up the back. “I’ll leave you alone so we can think, separately, on how to best resolve this.”

  The knowledge of having to make the walk of shame to her own hotel room was mortifying. Especially after spending the night with her husband.

  She wasn’t a floozy, but right now, she sure felt like one.

  “It wasn’t a mistake.”

  “Then what was it?” Turning to him, she fisted her hands on her hips. “The dream of a lifetime to get hitched in Vegas? A wedding that only one of us can remember? I’ll be sure to tell all of my clients all about it. They’ll be sure to recommend me to their friends.”

  Gosh, no one would hire her ever again if this got out. She couldn’t even plan her own freaking wedding. Worse, she got married in a sundress and without a bouquet, at the chapel of perpetual love and fake Elvises!

  His lips thinned, his dark eyes glittering in the afternoon sun. “Willow.”

  “That’s my name, and, luckily for you, we don’t have to worry about changing any of it back,” she said flippantly, bending down to grab her shoes.

  Or she tried to be flippant. But it was hard when her heart was on her sleeve. Oh, forget her sleeve. It was on the floor, under his feet, where he’d stomped all over it.

  “I see you’re not willing to listen to reason.”

  Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. “I already know what you’re going to say and I completely agree.”

  “You do?” He didn’t look too convinced.

  “An annulment.”

  “Nope.”

  Shocked, she took a step back. “Excuse me?”

  He took a step forward. “I said no.”

  “B-but you were ... aren’t you the same man who pitched a hissy fit after finding out what we did?”

  A guilty blush colored his cheeks. “Yeah, but now that I’ve cooled off, I figure we should stay married.”

  “You figure?” She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to let hope take hold in her heart. “What else do you figure?”

  “I made vows, drunk or not, and when an Ambrose makes a vow, he keeps t
hem.”

  She pursed her lips. “So being married to me is not only an obligation, but also just a family tradition? Wow, I feel so flattered. You really know how to sweet talk a woman, Logan Ambrose.”

  “Didn’t have to talk so sweet to you last night,” he pointed out.

  The nerve of him to point that out. She tossed her head. “I wasn’t in my right mind.”

  “That makes two of us.” He grabbed his duffle bag and began to pack up his stuff. “Whether you like it or not, we’re married.”

  She did like it, or she had, until his stupid reaction. “What do you plan on telling your parents?”

  “What do you plan on telling your parents—dad?” he snapped.

  Uncrossing her arms, she fisted her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Why can’t you answer first?”

  “Same reason why you won’t answer last.”

  ***

  It was odd to be driving her husband home after luck, that dirty bitch, put them on the same flight to Holland Springs. Odder still that she wasn’t sure if he would be her husband for much longer.

  Disloyal as anything, she couldn’t share what had happened in Vegas with Haven or Lily, especially considering that when Haven and Lily married, their husbands were in love with them.

  Willow didn’t have that. The love that existed in her marriage was completely one-sided. Just like her parents’ marriage.

  She sighed.

  “What’s wrong?” Logan asked, speaking for the first time since they’d gotten in her mid-sized SUV.

  “Nothing you can fix.” Harsh, but the truth. She couldn’t force him to fall in love with her, couldn’t force him to see her as more than an obligation and a promise to fulfill.

  He shifted in his seat, and she could feel his gaze on her. “How do you know?”

  “Call it women’s intuition.”

  “So it’s about feelings?”

  Did he have to make the word sound so nasty, like he was talking about pickled pigs’ feet in a jar? “Yes,” she admitted.

  “We can still sleep together, if that’s what you’re worried about ... even after we figure out what we want to do,” he said slowly. “I think we really connected when—”

  Oh, he did not just say that. Furious, she slammed on the brakes. “Get out.”

  “What?”

  Turning to him, she narrowed her gaze. “Get. Out.”

  “You want me to walk home? It’s fucking freezing.”

  Giving him her sweetest smile, she said, “I feel like you should.”

  “No problem, sweetheart.” Jaw clenching, he shoved open the door, then slammed it closed. She waited while he grabbed his bag from the back. “You’re really going to do this?”

  Glancing up at him through the rearview window, she smirked—something she’d never done in her life. “A big, bad Navy SEAL can’t handle a half-mile walk home in the cold?”

  “Former SEAL,” he reminded her.

  “Bless your heart, Logan.”

  He didn’t answer her. Instead, he closed the hatch.

  As soon as she heard it click, she jammed her foot down on the gas pedal and sped off.

  She thought she heard Logan shout her name, but, this time, she wouldn’t let him sweet talk her into giving him another chance. The last time he did that, she wound up married to him.

  Who knew what would happen this time?

  Chapter Seven

  Logan prayed that no one would be home, but God must have had other ideas when his momma opened the door before he even stepped foot on the porch.

  Leah Ambrose was the epitome of a southern momma, in his opinion. She was always dressed for the occasion, always wore her blonde hair up, and had firm opinions on everything pertaining to her children.

  “Did you walk here from the airport?” she asked, her sharp gaze going to the one bag he managed to save.

  “I had a ride. Dropped me off at the end of the driveway.”

  “In the dark.”

  There was still sunlight left, not much, but it was there. “I could see fine.”

  “Who dropped you off in such a hell-fire hurry?”

  “Willow Vaughn. She was out in Vegas for a wedding convention. Ended up on the same flight. So... she offered to drive me home. ” She’d driven away with his bag hanging out the back, one strap flapping in the breeze. No matter how fast he had ran after her, shouting her name, she hadn’t stopped.

  He hoped like hell it wasn’t on purpose. Although, he guessed he might have deserved it with his bonehead comment about sleeping together. He did deserve it, and a hell of a lot more. They were still married and there was a chance she could be pregnant.

  “That’s odd. She lives clear on the other side of town.”

  Oh shit. His mother was in nosy-as-hell mode and she wouldn’t stop until she got the answer she wanted or was satisfied there was nothing more to a woman driving her only non-married son home. He wasn’t sure how she would react to another child getting married without her. What he was sure of—he didn’t want to experience a tenth of what his oldest sister had gone through.

  While he loved his mother and knew she would do anything for any one she loved or considered a friend, she was not someone you crossed. He actually liked that about her. She was the one who’d gone to the school to stick up for him and Luke, when they wanted to stick them in the slow classes due to the language barrier.

  Hell, both of his adopted parents had raised a ruckus over that, then they’d gotten tutors and held firm on their sons staying put. He didn’t know many biological parents who would have done that, much less adopted ones.

  The Ambroses weren’t the kind of people who were well-connected in Holland Springs. For the most part, they were simply farm folk, content to live and let live while helping their fellow man.

  “Well?” she asked.

  His mind raced and found the most reasonable excuse for Willow to be on this side of town. “Had a client meeting.”

  “On Christmas Day?”

  He shrugged. “She’s very dedicated to her work.”

  “Bless her heart, but that woman needs a break.”

  That seemed to do the trick.

  His momma smiled at him. “Have you had supper?”

  “Nothing as good as what you’ve made.”

  A rosy blush fused her cheeks. “Such a charmer. You get that from your father’s side, you know. All Ambrose men are. It’s in their DNA.”

  He followed her inside the house, not bothering to point out that he didn’t share that DNA. No way would he hurt her feelings, especially at Christmas.

  “Then I must get the looks better and younger every passing year from your side, Momma.”

  With a smile, she shook her head at him. “That Corrine was a fool. She didn’t know how good she had it.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “So you say, but I think if you could meet the right woman, then you could get right back on that horse and—”

  “Ride off into the sunset.”

  “Don’t you sass me,” she said sternly, but he didn’t miss the twinkle in her blue eyes. “Go wash up and I’ll fix you a plate. Your daddy’s in the living room, watching the game.”

  If his mother was the epitome of the southern momma, then Lawton Ambrose was her male counterpart. He loved God, his wife, his kids, farming, and East Carolina University.

  In that order.

  Growing up, Logan wanted to be exactly like him. Still did.

  But could a military man become a farmer? He knew his dad wanted to retire. He also knew his dad didn’t have a son or son-in-law interested in taking over.

  Logan wanted to say something, but he wanted to speak with his brothers first. Make sure there were no hard feelings or that one of them, the biological ones, didn’t have plans for taking it over one day. He wouldn’t begrudge them that. It was their birthright, not his.

  At least he didn’t think it was his.

  Logan dropped his bag in the laundry room a
nd washed his hands in the sink, then moved to the living room. He found his dad sitting in his favorite chair, newspaper in hand while he kept one eye on the game.

  “Who’s winning?”

  “State.”

  Logan sat down on the sofa, stretching out his legs and arms. He tilted his neck to one side and then the other, cracking it and relieving the pressure. “Man, it feels good to be off that plane. Not much leg room if you’re over six feet.” Willow hadn’t much for company either. Since they’d flown on one of those pick your seat companies. He’d sat down right beside her and she’d promptly put on headphones, an eye mask, and ignored him the entire non-stop flight home.

  “Prefer driving myself.”

  “Me, too. How was Christmas?”

  “Fine. Your momma missed you, but—”

  “We understood you needed a break,” she finished, walking in the room and carrying a tray. She set it on Logan’s lap. “Next year, however, you won’t have that excuse.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Unless you’re married and have husbandly duties. I guess I need to make some changes to accommodate everyone.”

  “I don’t know. You pick the date and we’ll try to make it.” Guilt hit him over not attending, but the plate full of Christmas dinner leftovers helped.

  “Christmas is for families, but you kids have your own families now and I shouldn’t be so selfish making everyone do as I say.”

  Logan eyed her in disbelief. “You feeling okay?”

  His dad laughed. “Major guilt trip happening. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

  Leah narrowed her eyes. “You are no help!”

  “Leave the boy alone, Leah. He’s had enough to deal with. Can’t be easy being alone during this time of year.”

  She was alone? “How well do you know Willow Vaughn,” he asked his mother.

  “Well enough to let her plan weddings for my children.”

  “What about her parents?”

  His mother’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Oh, well, that. I shouldn’t talk but it is well-known. She only has her daddy left and he keeps to himself. Her momma left them both, when Willow was little. On Christmas Day of all days. Have you ever?”

  “But that’s today.”

  “And?”

  “Do you have anything planned?”