by Lauren Smith
“You’re very welcome, Mr. O’Shea.” She handed him back his card. “Your girlfriend is a very lucky woman. She’ll love the things you bought. I promise. Any woman would.”
Assured by her words, Connor left the store grinning. The urge to get back home and shower Zoey with these gifts was so strong that he nearly used his preternatural speed to return to his car. The drive home took far too long. His usual patience evaporated long before he pulled into the driveway. The sun was below the horizon now, and the streetlights illuminated the nearby houses. The warmth of their glow mingled with those of the Christmas lights. He was struck by the beauty he’d taken for granted far too long. With a shake of his head, he turned back to the car.
Connor retrieved the shopping bags from the trunk, hurried to the garage door and ducked inside. He kicked the snow off his boots and headed to the living room. He ground to a halt when he saw Zoey curled up on the couch covered in a blanket. Lizzy, the tabby, lounged on Zoey’s lap, little white-tipped paws kneading the blanket. Ian was in the kitchen staring at the bare cupboard with a scowl.
“There you are. You didn’t answer your phone. We need groceries. Food.” Ian’s eyes dropped to the bags Connor carried. “But it seems you’ve been shopping already.”
Connor walked over to Zoey and set the bags at her feet.
“I have. For Zoey.” He let his voice caress the name as he’d done earlier when she’d melted into his kiss. Her eyes flicked from the bags up to his face.
“Oh… I couldn’t… Whatever you bought you have to take it back.” She tucked her feet up under the blanket, as though to get as far away as she could from the bags, like they were filled with poisonous snakes.
The anticipation that had been slowly building in his chest as he waited to see her pleasure died a swift death. His chest tightened and his features reverted to a mask of stone.
“I bought them for you.” His tone was harsher than he’d meant it to be.
Her eyes narrowed and a flush of red accented her cheeks. “And I can’t accept them. I have no way of repaying you.”
Repay him? Repay him? What a stupid notion.
“I don’t want your money.” Again his tone had more of a bite than it should have.
“Oh, I see. You expect me to pay you some other way?” Her tart reply made him bare his teeth. His fangs slid down in anger.
“Bloody hell, woman, I would never expect you to… It’s Christmas!” He snatched the bags up from the floor and marched off to his room. His pride was wounded, his good intentions sullied by her black assumptions. When he reached his room, he threw the bags down and slammed the door. The wood splintered a little as it crashed into the frame. The anger in him deflated, replaced by the empty pang of disappointment.
I was a fool to think I could show her I care…that I want her as much as Ian does.
He wished he could go back to yesterday, when he’d first laid eyes on her. If only he’d sent her away and never looked back. But she’d stayed and the walls of ice surrounding his heart were nearly melted through. She was a damned ray of sunlight determined to pierce him clear through his soul.
He’d done something nice, and she’d thrown it back in his face. Perhaps she wasn’t the sweet, warm-hearted woman he’d believed her to be. Did she mean to play him against Ian? Or worse, she might want only Ian. He didn’t want it to be true, he wanted…
Damn. He wanted her, just wanted her to like him the way she liked Ian.
But Zoey wasn’t Lara. Zoey had rejected him and chosen Ian. There wasn’t anything he could do to change that. He and Ian were like brothers, and he wouldn’t fight to take a woman who didn’t want him. There was only one thing left to do. He’d leave tonight and spend the holidays somewhere else until Zoey left his home.
What if she didn’t leave? He couldn’t come back if she was still here. His self-control was fraying and he wouldn’t last if he had to be around Zoey and not have her. A heavy weight pressed on his chest. He was thankful, however briefly, he wasn’t mortal, or else he’d have trouble breathing.
Connor sat on the edge of the bed, propped his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes. A sigh of defeat escaped his lips.
Chapter Eight
“Not that I want to encourage you to choose him over me,” Ian said slowly, “but you must believe Connor’s intentions were good.”
Guilt gnawed at Zoey’s insides. She kept making mistakes, such big mistakes when it came to these two men.
“Even if he’s just being kind, I can’t take these things. I don’t want to owe him.”
“Zoey.” The exasperation in Ian’s tone was surprisingly thick. “Twas a gift. You can’t owe someone for a gift. You need those clothes. I threw yours out because they were in a sorry state. You might as well take what Connor bought for you.”
“You threw out my clothes?” She set Lizzy on the couch next to her and tossed the blanket off her body. As she jumped up, the edges of his buttonless shirt fluttered, threatening to fly open. She snatched the shirt ends and wrapped them tight around her. Grudgingly, she realized he had a point. She needed clothes.
Ian walked over to her and cupped her face with his palms.
“It’s been thirty years since he’s shown any interest in life. I was worried I was losing him, Zoey. He was turning more animal than man. But with you, I see the old Connor, my friend. He’s trying to reach out and connect with you. Please let him, for my sake.”
Ian’s eyes were bright with emotions—love, regret, longing, and determination. He was asking her to share herself, at least a part of herself, with Connor because he loved the man like a brother and would do anything to save him, even share her.
It should have bothered her to think that a man would share her with his friend, but it didn’t. She found it wondrous, sweet even, that the two of them would go so far in order to ensure the other’s happiness. How many people could say they’d do the same?
Zoey’s throat burned. “Okay,” she agreed. Not for Ian’s sake, but for Connor’s. He needed her, more than Ian needed her, at least on some level. The realization that she could help him made her pride regarding his charity irrelevant.
Ian dropped his head and placed a kiss on her lips. “Thank you.”
It burned like a well-kept fire by the hearth, a reassurance that he would be there when she returned. The parting of their lips was a tender thing, full of longing. When it ended, the flutter of lashes and the softening of his eyes became only a sweet memory as she turned down the hall and approached Connor’s room. She rapped lightly on the door, using her free hand to hold her shirt together.
“Go away!” he bellowed. It would probably have been wise to leave him alone, but she didn’t. Instead, she opened the door.
Connor sat on the edge of his bed, elbows propped on his knees, chin resting in one palm. He dropped his hands and stared at her as she entered. The glare on his face would have turned a less determined woman into stone. Zoey knelt at his feet by the shopping bags and looked up at him. A small black cat peeped out from under the large bed, yellow eyes wide and unblinking.
“Mreow?”
“Hush, Cleo. I’ll make her go away,” Connor promised. The cat slunk further back under the bed, vanishing from view. She appeared to be a sweet but timid thing.
Zoey ignored Connor’s brusque tone. “Well? Aren’t you going to show me what you bought?” Where she summoned the casual curiosity in her tone, she didn’t know.
Connor glared at her.
“Fine. I’ll just look myself.” She reached for the bag closest to her. Connor snatched it from her hands.
“You said you didn’t want them,” he snapped. “You rejected them.”
“And now I’m unrejecting them.” She plucked the bag from his hands and set it down, reaching inside to pull out a pair of brown leather ankle boots and a cou
ple of comfortable-looking jeans.
“You can’t just unreject something,” Connor growled. He seemed to be under the foolish belief that his side of the argument had merit.
Zoey ignored him and stroked her fingertips over the butter-soft leather boots before raising her gaze to his with admiration.
“These are lovely.” She meant it too. They were beautiful boots, and she couldn’t wait to wear them. Hopefully, they fit.
Connor leaned forward, tore the boots from her hands and held them aloft.
“A pity you like them now, because you cannot have them. You cannot go around changing your mind.”
Zoey rose to her feet and leapt at him to get the boots. “I’m a woman. We’re allowed to.”
He lifted the boots higher. When she jumped to reach them she fell into his body, knocking them both onto the bed. Connor groaned as she wriggled up him to get at the boots. When she slid back down, a hard bulge in his trousers rubbed against her. She fought off the wave of desire that swept through her with all the danger of a riptide.
“Easy, pet. You’ll be the death of me.” Connor dropped his head back onto the bed as she got off him, kneeling by the rest of the bags, her new boots clutched to her chest. She dared him with an aggressive stare to come after them again.
“What else did you get me?” She started pulling items out of the rest of the bags.
Connor gave in and watched her, quiet and pensive, his brown eyes dark with turbulent emotions. Zoey held up a bag, offering it to him.
“Would you like to show me what else you bought? I’d like to see. It was really very thoughtful. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I’ve been on my own for too long. Everything has a price, usually one I’m not willing to pay. All of this is just so…insane. I mean, I got rescued by vampires who are buying presents. I think I’m allowed to overreact a little, right? Say you forgive me. Please, Connor.” She peeped up at him, praying he’d forgive her for acting like a fool. His gesture really had been grand, and she’d been a fool to treat his kindness so suspiciously.
The hardness in Conner’s eyes was not the least bit comforting. After a long moment, however, a hint of warmth returned. His eyes became like a fresh pot of brewed coffee, dark and hot.
“I’m sorry, lass, I reacted like a wounded bear. I should have been more understanding.” He cleared his throat, then waved at the bags. “I bought a little of everything…” He took the bag she offered, pulling out a classy black cocktail dress that had a low dip in the back that would almost reach her backside if she were to wear it. Understated, yet incredibly sexy, just the way she wished to be when she pictured herself with a normal life. How had he known?
Sometime later, Zoey sat back on her heels, surrounded by a small mountain of clothes. Only one bag remained untouched, a small red bag with fancy tissue paper. Her fingers caught the handles at the same time Connor’s did.
“Oh, that’s not for you—”
“But…”
“Go on, Connor. Let her open it.” From the doorway, Ian peered in, his tone more dangerous and seductive than it had ever been before. A knowing grin crossed his lips. He leaned against the doorjamb, wearing only a pair of faded blue jeans, the top button undone. Something about that, the half-dressed man in front of her, sent shivers through her. These men would surely drive her mad. Her perception of both of them was changing. She should take neither man lightly. Like it or not, she was at their mercy.
“Go on, Zoey, open it,” Ian encouraged. His look was almost feline and highly predatory, as though he hungered at the sight of her.
Her hands shook as she removed the tissue and brushed over something soft and furry. She gripped the item and pulled it out of the sack. It was a babydoll, a thin red piece of lingerie, the hem of the flowing skirt-like top lined with white fur.
“Oh!” Her lips parted with a little gasp.
Connor’s face paled, and he tugged at the collar of his black sweater.
“I’ll take it back,” he muttered and reached for it.
Zoey shook her head and clasped the lingerie to her chest. “No! I like it. I’ve just never worn something like this…before.” The blush that followed her breathless words must have reached the roots of her hair.
“I wouldn’t worry. You won’t be in it long.” Ian’s dark promise sent a shiver through her. Zoey didn’t know what to say to that. She swallowed and gathered the mountain of clothes and stood.
“Thank you, Connor. These are wonderful.” You are wonderful, nearly spilled out as well. The last thing she needed was to make a spectacle of herself by revealing how much she liked him. How much she liked them both.
“You’re welcome.” His gruff reply made her smile for some reason.
“You should shower and change,” Ian said. “We can go out when you’re done.” She nodded and tried to slide past him through the doorway, rubbing against him as she passed. A riot of heat spiked through her when his masculine scent and the barest hint of aftershave drifted beneath her nose. Her body flushed, eager to finish what every one of his kisses had promised her.
Zoey forced herself to flee to the bathroom and escape the temptation Ian presented. She needed time to gather her thoughts and steel herself against the advances the two vampires made against her. She had to be sure her mind was her own. Knowing what she knew now about their glamour, and how it affected her reaction to them, it was easy to doubt what she was feeling. They were sex on a stick to her, but was that actually how she felt? Or just a chemical manipulation of her body reacting to them? The last thing she wanted, the last thing she could afford, was to be swept away by her hormones and getting confused about what was real. If she had time to think with some distance, she might be able to figure out what she really felt about Ian and Connor.
* * *
None of the trees in the lot were right. They were all too perfect, too flawless. A Christmas tree ought to have character and be unique. Zoey rubbed her new mittens together and glanced around, looking for her pair of tall Irish vampires. She couldn’t help but smile when she spotted them hovering at the back of the lot, shoulders touching as they stared at something she couldn’t see. Zoey attempted to sneak up on them, trying not to laugh.
“’Tis the sorriest looking twig I’ve ever seen,” Ian said to Connor.
“More like driftwood than a tree,” Connor agreed. “What do you think, Zoey?”
So much for being sneaky. They hadn’t even glanced in her direction. Zoey put her hands on their shoulders and gently nudged them apart so she could what they were looking at.
“It’s perfect!”
“You must be joking,” Connor said.
But she wasn’t, and she couldn’t stop smiling. Clearly neither of them had ever watched A Charlie Brown Christmas. It was the perfect tree. More like a large, five-foot high twig with some misplaced branches.
“Can we get this one?” she pleaded. Ian and Connor’s mouths opened slightly.
“Really?” they asked in unison.
“Of course! My father always said that the perfect tree was the one that was unique, different. The saddest looking trees are usually the ones with the most character.” Zoey stepped up to the tree and reached out to touch the nearest branches.
“It looks a bit like Ian’s—”
Ian silenced Connor with a light blow to his stomach.
Zoey ignored them as the two vamps tussled like overgrown boys; she looked instead at the tree. The pine needles feathered over the thick wool of her mitten. So many memories of other Christmases, ones that were bittersweet to recall. Her mother at home with chili cooking in the crockpot, while Zoey and her father made the annual trip to the tree lot to find the right tree. God, she’d missed the heavy scent of evergreen.
She bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Her breath caught in her throat. It was all too much, too soon. She turned away an
d bumped into Ian’s chest. His arms curled around her, pulling her into his body. The sobs came, and though quiet, they wracked her body.
“Shhh…” Ian soothed.
“Ah, it means that much to you…” Connor muttered from somewhere behind her. “We’ll get the twig…er…tree.”
A laugh bubbled in her throat, and she stared up at Ian. Connor was right behind her, so near that she was suddenly, intensely aware of how close all three of them had become. It struck her in that moment that the three of them felt right. She shared the intimate space with them and there was no awkwardness, no competition or concerns. She’d been so worried and ashamed for wanting them both before, but the temptation was too great to resist. Why should she fight something that felt so right?
She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and managed a watery smile.
“My dad and I used to buy the least perfect tree on the lot. It was our tradition.” She looked away, shy and a little embarrassed by her reaction. “I wasn’t prepared for how sad it made me, to be here without him.”
Ian stroked her hair back from her face and brushed a kiss over her forehead.
“Let’s make a new tradition then. Connor, get the tree.”
* * *
Two hours later, Zoey was sitting in a lawn chair in the driveway laughing as Connor and Ian argued about how to rig up the Christmas lights on the roof. The two century-old vampires couldn’t agree on traditional lights or icicle lights.
“Zoey, love, tell Connor here that these are more appropriate…” Ian came toward her, holding a string of traditional lights.
Connor growled and tripped Ian as he passed by. Ian face-planted in the snow, only to jump up and leap at his friend like an animal. The two men wrestled like tiger cubs. Zoey wasn’t worried; she heard laughing amidst their scuffling.
“Calm down, you two! Go with the icicle lights.” Both men stilled. Ian had Connor in a head lock. They both raised their heads, reluctant grins on their faces.
“Fine. Icicles it is. You can make it up to me later, Zoey. But I only accept payments in kisses.” Ian winked.