One Christmas: (BBW Military Romance) (One Soldier Series Book 3)

by Christin Lovell

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  Merry Christmas To Me

  Kelsie is a sassy, smart, and curvaceous event planner with a thing for a certain hot Brit.

  Enter said sexy English man, William. Best friend to Kelsie’s brother, Ryan, for six years, he’s four years her junior, funny, available, and, it turns out, he has a thing for her too.

  Discover what can happen when you skip the family Christmas scene, much to your mother’s horror, and let the bloody sparks fly.

  Warning: This book contains banter, butt slapping and overuse of the word ‘bloody,’ but, like any good Christmas story, it’s full of good cheer.

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  Merry Christmas To Me

  Chapter One

  Kelsie

  My heart pittered a little faster as I watched him approach. A structured jacket over well-fitting khakis highlighted his athletic physique. His blonde hair was mussed to perfection, as always. He didn’t do it on purpose; he was blessed. He’d always had a model’s face and an underwear commercial-worthy body. Had he been a woman, I would have been green with envy, but, as he was, I just drooled a little from time to time.

  He swung open the coffee house’s glass door and made a beeline for me.

  I stood and threw open my arms to welcome him. “Get over here, you sexy beast.”

  He laughed, enveloping me in a tight hug. “I am, aren’t I?” His English accent never left my pussy dry.

  “You’re sexy, but you’re late.” I cut my eyes at him as he released me, giving him a chiding glare.

  He didn’t miss a beat. “Sorry, love. Can I buy my forgiveness with a cuppa?”

  I pursed my lips, keeping my gaze trained on his. “I suppose.”

  A grin split his face. He pressed his palms to his chest. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” he sang, drawing the attention of fellow patrons.

  I tried to conceal my smile as I slapped his upper arm playfully. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

  He chuckled heartily, throwing his arm around my shoulders.

  I glanced up at him sideways. “You’re lucky Ryan isn’t around.”

  His clear blue eyes glittered as he tightened his hold on me, sending my heart fluttering. “He’s my best mate and your bro. I’m sure he’d wish us well with a box of condoms and a stern warning for me not to knock you up.” He winked.

  I harrumphed. “As if you could get me in bed. I may be extra curvy with a side of extra curvy, but in no way does that make me extra easy. You’ve got to work for this.” I broke away and sashayed to the counter. “A medium hot chocolate with extra whip, please.”

  I froze as Will pressed his front against my back. He kissed the side of my neck, the bit exposed above my scarf, sending chills chasing down my spine. “You always were a bloody tease.”

  He straightened, giving me a moment to breathe. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

  The emo college student-turned-cashier rang in the order; he kept giving us odd, speculative glances, but, then again, most people did.

  Will and I flirted non-stop. Yet, despite him being sexy as sin, and my full figured self not being bad in comparison, we’d never pursued more. He was my younger brother’s college room mate all four years at university, and his best friend since; somehow that made him taboo. It didn’t stop my heart from reacting each time he was near, even six years later.

  Will paid and we stepped to the next counter to wait for our drinks.

  “Did you put up a tree in your apartment?” I asked, clutching my wristlet.

  “Afraid not. It’s a lot of boxes and no cheer this year.”

  I shook my head in dismay. “It’s been two weeks since you moved in.”

  He shrugged, giving me a coy smile. “I’ve been a lazy lad.”

  “Clearly.” I nudged his side with my elbow.

  “Order up!” the barista called.

  We grabbed our drinks and made our way back to the table I’d originally occupied near the front; it gave us a perfect view of the sunset outside. The air was clear, cold and crisp this time of year, and today was the perfect icy winter day, a picture-perfect Christmas Eve.

  “How’s the bridezilla farm goin’?” He gazed across the table expectantly.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m an event planner, you nut head.”

  “Whatever you say, love.”

  “It’s going well. I rushed over from my last event before Christmas.”

  His brows furrowed. “The choco isn’t working I see.” He took a hearty sip of his beverage.

  “Like I said, I’m not easy. You can’t buy me, bud.”

  His eyes twinkled with something indefinable. “I’ll wear you down.” He sounded as confident as he looked.

  Blowing on my steaming drink, I used my exhales to shift the whipped cream around, letting the brew cool. “How does it feel to have an adult job?”

  “It bloody sucks. Long hours, not enough pay and only pudgy retirees and middle-aged baldies to look at.” He scrunched his nose.

  I bit back a smirk. “Certainly there’s at least one executive secretary for you to ogle on occasion,” I teased.

  “None.” He stared deadpan at me, not an ounce of humor present.

  “You poor baby.” I feigned compassion for a moment before cracking. “Welcome to my world. The only men I work with are married business men, middle aged dads or engaged bachelors looking for one last hurrah. It can be hell on a girl’s ego.”

  “Aw, you’ve got nothing to worry about, love. You’re a gorgeous, sassy and smart stunner! The bloke who ties you down will be a lucky bastard. I’m gonna be anxious as a camel on Tuesday when the day comes.” He nodded his head, as if to punctuate his words.

  “You know, flattery gets you nowhere with me.” I winked, taking a sip of my hot chocolate.

  His features turned down. His gaze fell to his nearly empty cup. “I know,” he mumbled.

  “How many days off do you get for the holiday?” I asked, wanting to distract him from whatever saddened his spirit. I hated seeing Will upset. He was a genuinely nice guy who always went out of his way to make me smile.

  “Just tomorrow. It’s back to the retirement home on Thursday.” He didn’t pout about it, but he wasn’t happy either.

  My smirk broke through. “It can’t be that bad. It’s a very reputable accounting firm.”

  He curled his upper lip, lightly shaking his head negatively. “Nice blokes, but everyone has wrinkles.”

  Considering him, I pressed. I wasn’t giving up. “Did you get a holiday gift or a bonus this year?”

  “A bloody fruitcake. Who the hell eats fruitcake?”

  I laughed, raising my hands in defeat. I sat back in the chair and grabbed my cup of cocoa, content to just sit with him.

  He gazed at me, watching me for a long minute. “You’re the only one who gives me something I’ll love each year.”

  Staring at him above the rim of my cup, I searched him. I saw nothing but sincerity. “It’s just a gift.”

  His lips turned down at the edges slightly, but he pushed past it. “How’s your mum takin’ your first Christmas away?”

  I pursed my lips, tapping them with my pointer finger in consideration. “Let’s see. She sent me a box of decorations for my condo, a box of cookies for Santa, as if I was still eight, and threatened bodily harm if I didn’t at least put up a tree, then she had a tree delivered, followed by a box of lights and ornaments; she’s left me nearly a dozen messages in the past three days and even roped my dad and Ryan into guilt-tripping me.” I clasped my cup tightly. “I think that about covers it.”

  “The woman’s a machine.” He sounded impressed.

  “Seems like it sometimes.” I took another sip of my drink, letting the rich goodness slide down my throat. “How’s your family?” I perked up.

  “Good. My brother just got engaged. He threatened castration if I didn’t make the trip home for the wedding.”

  “Brutal.” I smiled against the rim of my cup, taking another
small swig of my beverage.

  He nodded his head in agreement.

  “Is it that girl, Bridget I think her name is? The one you told me about.” I set my hot chocolate down, pushing the rest towards him.

  “Yeah.” He swallowed the last of it in one go.

  “I never asked you. What brought you to the U.S.? There are plenty of respectable colleges in the U.K..” I laced my fingers, placing them in my lap as I looked at him.

  “The weather. A bloke can only take so much grey.” He sat back, stretching his arm across the table. He toyed with the colorful paper cup.

  My womb tightened as I stared at him. His gaze was fixed on me. I swore a flicker of electricity sat between us, a gentle current connecting us, filling my mind with thoughts that could sizzle bacon.

  Abruptly, he sat forward. His energy shifted, seeming to reach out and sweep me up in sudden excitement. “What are you doing tonight, Miss Kelsie Hughes?”

  I was taken aback by his question, but charmed nonetheless. “The truth?” I quirked a brow.

  “As if I’d want rubbish,” he bellowed. His depths held mischief and mystery, a sexy – and thrilling – combination.

  I leaned in conspiratorially. I lowered my voice to just above a whisper. “First, I’m going home to strip naked and soak in a hot bubble bath until my skin shrivels up like a prune. Then I plan to trot around the kitchen in my most comfortable pajamas, you know the kind, the ugly ones that aren’t fit for other humans to see, popping popcorn while sipping wine. I’ll then plop my bodacious booty on my sofa, turn my phone on silent and shamelessly indulge in a marathon of cheesy Hallmark holiday movies until midnight, when my mother will undoubtedly call.”

  He beamed at me. “That sounds delectable, especially the stripping bit.” He wagged his brows suggestively at the end.

  I rolled my eyes, straightening my back. “You would focus on that.”

  He angled closer to me, his gaze sweeping over me. “Where’s my invite?” He puckered his bottom lip, giving me sad puppy dog eyes.

  I hesitated, leaving him hanging just a little longer. No girl wants to sound eager, and I was so eager. “I don’t know if I can be shameless around you.”

  He dropped the act. “You bloody well can and you know it.” He smiled devilishly, turning on the charm.

  I laughed. “Guilty.” There were few moments I wasn’t comfortable with Will. There was something about him that disarmed me. I could never hide from him, and I had never wanted to. I trusted him innately.

  Abruptly, he tapped the table’s top. “It’s settled then. We’re going to your place. We’ll strip and enjoy a hot dip. You’ll make the popcorn and I’ll pour the wine. Then I’ll let you cuddle on the couch with this hunk of manliness and we’ll both wish your mum a Merry Christmas at midnight.” He was suspended over the table.

  I swore he was holding his breath, waiting for my acceptance. “Two questions,” I countered.

  “Go.” His focus never faltered.

  I puckered my lips, watching him just long enough to make him sweat. “Is this platonic?”

  “Absolutely not.” He shook his head, ensuring I understood his intentions.

  It was hell trying to appear calm when my heart was racing, as hope catapulted me, swept me up and carried me away into a firm, gospel-singer-worthy and Baptist-preacher-shouting hallelujah inside. “How long have you wanted this?” I nibbled my lip seductively, testing the waters.

  “Six bloody painful years.” His nostrils flared on his exhale. He shifted uncomfortably.

  I narrowed my gaze as though I were eyeing my opponent across the poker table. “One condition.”

  He copied my intense gape. “Anything.”

  “You’re telling Ryan.”

  His face split into a broad grin. “Merry bloody Christmas to me! Let’s go, love.” He shoved out of his chair. He helped me up, slid a possessive arm around me, grabbed our empty cups and whisked me out into cold, uncharted territory.

  —

  End Teaser

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  And now, please enjoy this sneak peek of another holiday delight, A Were, A Bear, and Mistletoe.

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  A Were, A Bear and Mistletoe

  Curvy Ember is not having a good Christmas. She was jolted awake by her brother, whisked off into the woods – against her will – to a secluded cabin, and then locked inside…by her own flesh and blood.

  On the other side of that door, trapped with her, is her true mate, a werebear named Mack. He’s sexy, arrogant, and hates fat women, which means they could never work. Ember knows that, but darn if Mother Nature will let her turn off her attraction to the handsome grizzly. She’s drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even when she doesn’t want to be.

  The holidays have always been a time for magic and miracles, though, and this Christmas, the sparks will fly, the claws will come out and the truth will be revealed. After all, Mother Nature never gets it wrong.

  Warning: This title contains a feisty werewolf with plenty of excess sexiness, a smoking hot werebear who could charm the panties off of any granny, lots of sass, lots of banter, lots of growling; oh, and lots of flaming hot sexy scenes.

  Please Note: Author assumes no responsibility for any e-reader damage.

  —

  A Were, A Bear and Mistletoe

  No Chapters

  Ember

  “Don’t you dare!” I dug the heels of my shoes into the ground as my brother dragged me along the dirt-covered path.

  “The moment you stop being stubborn, it’ll be the best Christmas gift I ever gave you.” He tightened his grip on my scruff. As the alpha of our pack, he was the strongest. As my older brother, and the leader of our family, he had all the right leverage. As my best friend and the one who knew me better than anyone, he had the advantage; he was the only one who knew that my true mate wasn’t a werewolf like us, but a werebear.

  “No, it won’t. Nothing could top the Hitachi Magic Wand I bought myself last year.” I stuck my nose in the air defiantly.

  He halted, pinching the back of my neck. He glanced at me, no humor remaining in his depths. “Except the real thing.”

  I frowned, reality setting in. I puckered my bottom lip, dread gathering in the pit of my stomach. “C’mon, Jake. Please don’t make me do this. It’s embarrassing.” My bravado began to slip away, and the truth was close to surfacing.

  Assessing me, his brows furrowed. “What’s embarrassing about acknowledging and claiming your mate, Ember?”

  Tenderly, nervously, I worked my bottom lip. The truth was, I longed to be with Mack. Sweet cherry pie, the fantasies I had about that man could wet the panties of a nun before she could spew the first ‘Hail Mary.’

  “I don’t have all day, Em. Taylor’s waiting on me.” He arched a single brow expectantly.

  This was he and Taylor’s first Christmas together. They’d mated a little over two months ago and had been inseparable ever since, despite Taylor being human. My brother worked hard to woo his mate, and worked even harder to keep him happy.

  Admittedly, I was green with envy, and not the merry, cheery Christmas green either. The dark kind.

  I loved Taylor. He balanced my over-the-top dominant brother well. He knew when to push and when to give in. Jake smiled as often as Taylor, and, despite many pack members being disgruntled over their alpha’s sexuality, no one could deny Jake’s improvement since he met his mate. He was a better man with Taylor, a secondary confirmation that he’d found the right person to spend his life with.

  Sweet cherry pie, I wanted what they had. I wanted Mack with every fiber of my being. Despite having a mute wolf, she let me know of her desire for him and his bear in her own way, too.

  But we weren’t what he wanted.

  And I had a hard time bringing myself to speak the awful, humiliating truth I knew. “Please, Jake.” My voice was low, calm; I was trying to appeal to his alpha side, the business side of him that took all personal interest out of the equation.<
br />
  “Give me one good reason, and I’ll consider a stay.” He loosened his grip on me marginally.

  Dang it! There was no way around it now. I had no choice. “He doesn’t like fat girls, Jake. I overheard him and a few of the pack frat boys talking.” My chest tightened. I felt the color in my cheeks as I cast my gaze at the ground. I couldn’t look at him right now. I was too ashamed. I’d never met or heard of anyone who didn’t meet the standards of their designated mate, nor a couple who defied nature’s intended fate forever.

  He stood deathly still for a long minute before issuing a clipped, “No.” Abruptly, he began moving, dragging me along like before.

  My head shot up into his tautened grip on me. “Jake.”

  Nothing.

  “Jake.”

  Still, he didn’t respond.

  “Jake!” Panic surged within me, sending my heart racing and my wolf clambering.

  Arriving at the cabin, he yanked a set of keys from his pocket, unlocked and opened the door. The log cabin had been built as a hurricane shelter. It was a home with no windows, reinforced roots and all the supplies one would need to weather a storm.

  And now it would be my prison.

  On Christmas.

  Fan-freaking-tastic.

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  End Teaser

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  About The Author:

  Christin Lovell was born and raised in Charleston, SC, but now lives in the hottest place on earth: Orlando, FL. She has three beautiful children who keep her running non-stop, but would love to adopt a few more. When she’s not juggling life and kids, you'll find her huddled away somewhere writing her next book or happily reading someone else's. Like most authors she’s come across, she’s a coffee addict, owns far too many books than she can fit on her shelves, and she goes to work in her pajamas a lot.

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