“It’s not the least disposable part of you at the moment,” she said, writhing against him. She could feel the orgasm building force, circling and circling, but just out of reach. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and squeezed her feminine muscles around him, trying to hold him longer inside of her.
Hank’s grin faded and he upped the tempo, pounding into her. His hardened balls slapped against her aching flesh, the sensation one of the most wonderfully erotic things she’d ever felt.
“Hank, I need--“
He reached between their joined bodies and fingered her clit. She fractured.
“--that,” she finished in a long keening cry. The orgasm plunged her into pleasure, then lifted her beyond joy. Her release triggered his and with a few more determined thrusts, Hank’s big body shuddered above hers.
The idea that she could make this big man quake was one of the most hedonistic things she could have ever imagined.
Viv trailed her fingers along his back, then bent and pressed a kiss against his chest. Hank rolled to her side, quickly disposed of the condom with a napkin from the nightstand, then drew her up next to her. Her head fit perfectly in the crook of his shoulder, as though the space had been divinely designed with her in mind.
He doodled on her upper arm. “Can I tell you something?”
She snuggled closer against him and sighed contentedly, the weight of release making her boneless and rested. “Sure.”
“You scare me.”
She drew back. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that the first minute I looked at you, I saw a future with you in it.”
Though she knew exactly what he meant--she’d had a similar reaction to him, after all--she managed a shaky laugh. “And a future with me is frightening?”
“It is if you’re not feeling the same thing I am. It’s...intense. I’ve never been this invested this early in, you know what I mean?”
Boy did she ever. She released a shaky breath. “I do.”
“Am I scaring you?”
“Not too much,” she admitted. “I’m pretty...invested already, too. More so than I’m used to. Frankly, more than I’ve ever been. But I’ve got to tell you, Hank, I’ve got a history of spooking easily. I’ve got a bad habit of holding my breath, waiting for something to go wrong. I’ve always done it.”
And it was true. In everything, right down to this airline ticket she had the money for but had yet to buy. She was waiting on the other shoe to drop. It was awful, really. Why couldn’t she just accept things at face value? Why did she always think things would go wrong?
“Forewarned is forearmed,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Just know that if you run away from me, I’ll give chase.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “This is special.”
Inexplicably tears burned the backs of her eyes. “Even if I hate Christmas?”
“I’ll convert you.”
Viv chuckled. “You know, I actually think you could.”
Hank nuzzled the side of her neck and muttered another suggestive ho-ho-ho. “I should probably start working on that right now,” he told her, but before he could complete the promise his cell phone rang.
He drew back and frowned. “Sorry. I’m not expecting a call, but I’d better see who it is.” He slipped from the bed and located his jeans, then fished the cell from his pocket. She watched him, lazily admiring his naked form. Dear Lord, the man was beautiful. Dark brown hair over a fabulously muscled chest, flat masculine nipples and a stomach that would make a washboard envious.
And then there was the rest of him.
She swallowed, suddenly hit with the urge to taste him there, to feel that hard hot skin in her mouth.
“It’s Brody,” he said, a line of concern emerging between his brows.
Viv sat up, her lascivious train of thought derailed. She’d spent a good bit of time with the teenager over the past couple of days and had developed a fondness for the kid.
“Hey,” Hank said. He listened, his frown deepening. “Right. Sure. It’s no problem at all. I’ll be right over. No, no really, I don’t mind at all. I told you to call if you ever needed me, didn’t I? Stay put. I’ll be there to get you in a minute.”
Hank disconnected. “I hate to do this, but I’ve got to leave.”
She drew her knees to her chest. “What’s wrong?”
“His mother’s been gone for the past three days, there’s no food in the house and the utilities department has turned off the power.” His voice throbbed with anger. “The kid’s sitting over there in the dark, hungry and, while he won’t admit it, scared. His mother needs her ass kicked,” he said, hurrying into his clothes.
Viv completely agreed and would be happy to do the ass-kicking in question. How could a woman treat her child that way? What the hell was wrong with her? “Where’s his father?”
“He split when the boy was five. He hasn’t seen him since.”
Viv’s eyes widened significantly. “That certainly sounds familiar.” Unbidden an image of her little brother developed in her mind’s eye. Dark curly black hair, much like her own. Big blue eyes, much like her own. He’d be about Brody’s age, Viv thought now, swallowing. She imagined Brody’s sweet smile, that dark hair and blue eyes and her heart began to pound. Dear God... It wasn’t possible-- It couldn’t be...could it?
Her mouth went dry and she had to clear her throat to speak. “Hank, what’s Brody’s last name?”
He shrugged into his shirt. “Foster. Like yours,” he said as though it was just a coincidence.
But it wasn’t. She knew it in her heart of hearts, in the very fiber of her soul.
A stifled cry broke from her throat. Brody was her little brother. Abandoned, hungry, in the dark and alone. Hands shaking, she scrambled from the bed. “Do you mind if I come with you?”
“No, of course not.” His brow furrowed with concern. “Hey, are you all right? You’ve gone white as a sheet.”
Viv took a deep breath. “Hank, I think Brody might be my little brother.”
CHAPTER 10
“Wow,” Jase said. “Her brother?”
Hank stood on the porch of the trimming shed as Viv and Brody stood next to her car.
She was leaving, presumably without saying goodbye to him.
Naturally Hank knew that in the grand scheme of her life finding a little brother took precedence over telling him goodbye at the moment, but somehow he knew with Viv it was more than that. She’d been distant with him since last night and he imagined that raking up those old wounds will her father had set her off.
“Yeah,” he said. “Small world, isn’t it?”
She’d told him about seeing her father with a little boy a few years after her dad had walked out, but that periodic searches in the phone book for his name had been fruitless and she’d just assumed that they’d all moved away. Evidently not. James Foster had moved, but had left another broken family behind.
In Viv’s case, their mother was a gem. In Brody’s, his mother was a meth addict. The reason that the woman hadn’t been home in three days had been because she’d been in jail. Because he’d always had a good rapport with area officials, getting temporary foster care parent status had been merely a couple of phone calls away and Hank had brought the boy home with him last night.
Last night Viv had confided that at some point in the future she’d like Brody to come and live with her--telling her family was a hurdle, of course--but said she knew for the moment that Brody would more than likely prefer to stay with Hank.
Watching the kid’s big smile now and the hug he was giving Viv, Hank seriously doubted that. The boy had a family now and instinctively trusted his big sister.
Honestly, the resemblance was striking. He didn’t know how any of them had missed it. Same dark hair, same deep blue eyes, same penchant for getting into trouble. He smiled softly. Funny how they’d both ended up here, Hank thought, as though it had been part of some big, cosmic plan.
“You’re not just goin
g to let her leave, are you?” Jase asked.
“What do you mean?”
Jase laughed as though he were a moron. “It’s obvious you’re crazy about her.”
He could lie, but what was the point, so he merely nodded. “She’s special.”
“Then don’t let her special ass drive away. Go talk to her.”
Brody turned to walk away, so Hank made his move. He leapt down from the porch and have a little holler at Viv. “Hey,” he said, loping over. “You’re leaving without saying goodbye?”
A forced smile shaped her lips. “I’ve got to get all this sorted out with Brody,” she said, by way of an explanation. True, he knew, but it was just as excuse. “You know, go and talk to my mother and sister. I think that my sister will be as thrilled as I am about him and my mother will accept him into our family because he’s a part of us...”
“I imagine it would be hard for her. Brody’s the son of the woman your father left her for, right?”
She nodded. “I don’t want Mom to be hurt.”
“Do you think she knows about him?”
“You know, dad left without looking back and mom had to look forward. I’d like to think that if she’d known she would have told us, but then again she might have thought it would be too painful for us.” She lifted a small shoulder. “Having a brother, then not being able to have anything to do with him. I know this--whatever her reason she had our best interests at heart, which is more than we can say for Brody’s worthless waste-of-carbon mother.” She smiled at him and touched his sleeve. “Thank you for taking him in. Like I told you last night, I want to talk to my family first--and give him the option--but I’d love for him to come live with me.” She smiled and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “We’re a lot alike, me and Brody.”
Hank nodded. “Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.” He paused. “Can I see you tonight?”
Her expression froze and a cloud moved behind her gaze. “Er--“
Hank chuckled. “Spooked, are you?”
“I am,” she admitted, wincing regretfully. “I just need a little time to sort all of this out, you know?”
He nodded, a bit hurt, but understood all the same. She’d warned him after all. “I’m not going to stalk you, but I’m not going away either.”
She grinned. “I didn’t think you would.”
Hank bent and gave her a lingering kiss. If she needed space, he’d give it to her. “Call me when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.”
It was the noble thing to do, Hank thought. The exact move a guy with Gold Member standing on the Nice list would do...but he’d get Naughty if necessary.
Because there was no way in hell he was losing her.
* * *
I’ll be waiting...
With those words ringing in her ears, Viv got into her car and drove away. He would wait, she knew, which was so much more than she deserved considering she’d gone from making love to him to needing a little room. Honestly, she wished there was some way to permanently disengage her self-destruct button because her life would be so much better if she could.
She’d just found her little brother. She should be celebrating. She should be happy. And she was, truly, at the heart of it all. But all of those issues and insecurities when it came to her father had risen like Lazarus from the dead with this happy news and instead of being able to sort the two out, they were hopelessly intertwined. She was an emotional schizophrenic and Hank Bailey deserved better.
On the surface, Viv was a strong, successful young woman. She knew that. She was proud of her accomplishments, proud of who she’d become. But somewhere deep down inside of her, there was still an abandoned little girl who felt like if her own father couldn’t love her, then what man could?
Hank, a little voice whispered. Hank could love you.
Viv wanted to believe that more than anything in the world. She really did. She wanted to--
Her car suddenly made an ominous sound, then sputtered and died. Black smoke billowed from under the hood as she carefully nursed it to the side of the road.
Viv looked heavenward, then rested her forehead against the steering wheel and laughed darkly as the backs of her eyes burned. Been here, done that, bought the T-shirt.
Predictably, the other shoe had just dropped.
She’d been waiting for it, hadn’t she? Had known it was coming?
A bark of laughter broke loose in her throat as she reached for her cell to phone a tow service. It was a good thing she hadn’t bought that ticket after all. She’d need the money to fix her car.
Goodbye London.
Goodbye...Hank.
CHAPTER 11
Christmas Eve
“Have you heard from her?” Jase asked as they closed down for the night.
Hank shook his head. “Not a word.”
He’d been patiently waiting for the past week for her to come to her senses, but evidently that wasn’t going to happen. He knew that, of course, because he knew her. She was afraid of getting hurt, afraid that he’d change his mind, just like her sorry bastard of a father had done. Thankfully he’d kept up with her via Brody who’d talked to her every day. He knew that her car had broken down on her way home last Friday and that she’d spent the money she’d planned on using to go to London on the repairs. That damned shoe she was always talking about, Hank thought.
Jase slapped him on the back. “Sorry, bro. I know you had high hopes for this one.”
“Who says I don’t still have high hopes?”
Jase frowned. “You mean you do?”
He nodded. In fact, he’d already decided on a course of action and was merely waiting until quitting time to put it into action.
Jase blew out a breath, then leaned in as though he were about to confide something important. “Look, I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but I hate to see you make a fool of yourself over nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
Jase straightened, seemingly gathering his nerve. “She hates Christmas, Hank. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you, but she mentioned it to Mom and Angelica and the way you’ve been mooning around here all week-- Well, I just had to tell you.”
Hank laughed. “I knew that already.”
Jase’s slackjawed expression was priceless. “You knew? Then why are you still pining away? Isn’t that a deal breaker?”
He shrugged as though it hardly mattered. And it didn’t. “I’ll convert her.”
“You couldn’t convert the artificial tree girl?” he asked, his voice climbing in shock.
“She wasn’t worth the effort.”
A slow grin slid over his brother’s face and he inclined his head knowingly. “All right, then. Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
A thought struck. “As a matter of fact, you can. Could you bag up some ornaments for me and lend me a few strings of Christmas lights?”
Puzzled but willing to help, Jase nodded. “Sure.”
Excellent, Hank thought. It was time to get naughty.
* * *
Spent but happy that their evening had gone so well, Viv pulled out of her mother’s drive and began the short trek home. Though she’d taken Brody along with her to her family Christmas celebration, her sister Frannie had insisted on taking Brody back out to Hank’s herself. Citing all the time that Viv had had with the boy, understandably Frannie wanted to do a bit of catching up. Her brood of nieces and nephews--all four of them--had been utterly enchanted with the new male addition to the family and had welcomed Brody into their fold with open arms.
Predictably, so had her mother, who had suspected that the child existed, but was never certain. Viv had told her mom her plan to bring Brody into her home and her mother was very supportive. “This will be good. I worry over you being alone,” she’d said. “You’re sister recovered.” Her mom had put her palm on Viv’s cheek. “But, despite my best efforts, you didn’t.”
The confession had slayed her. It had never occurred to her
that her mother would feel responsible for Viv’s inability to truly risk her heart, but she did.
And that was a guilt she couldn’t let her mother carry anymore.
Viv had made a decision in that instant, one that had made her so gloriously happy that she’d literally felt the peace of it slide through her limbs and settle warmly around her heart.
Hank Bailey, the man she loved, was waiting on her.
But he wouldn’t be waiting anymore.
Viv planned to go home, wrap a small but significant gift and then go to his house. She knew from Brody that the Bailey’s traditionally celebrated Christmas tomorrow morning, so with luck she should catch him at home.
She turned onto her street and noticed something strange. She gasped and leaned forward over her steering wheel as she neared her house.
Christmas lights festooned her house. Automated reindeer, snowmen and Santa’s played music and moved. Fake snow had been sprayed all over her yard and lighted candy canes lined her sidewalk and drive. The bare tree that had stood in her window for the past week was covered in clear lights and beautiful handmade ornaments.
Most importantly, a red Santa hat on his dark brown locks, Hank Bailey sat on her front porch steps, a big smile on his face.
Her heart threatening to pound right out of her chest, Viv wheeled the car into her driveway, shifted into park, then exited the car and made her way up the walk. He stood as she approached and handed her a large red envelope with a foil bow on the corner.
Grey eyes twinkling, he smiled and she thought she’d expire from happiness. “Merry Christmas,” he said simply.
“Hank,” she breathed.
“This isn’t stalking,” he said. “This is creating a new Christmas memory.”
She chuckled, blinked back tears and looked at everything he’d done for her. “I don’t know what to say. It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”
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