by Seton, Cora
“So if I make you more Christmas cookies, you’ll eat them?” She had to tease him, because, oh God, she had too many feelings bottled up inside her right now. She was boneless from the pleasure he’d given her, and yet she wanted to cry. Babble inanities at him. Grab him by the shoulders and ride him like a cowgirl. Because, the problem was, she didn’t know if this was a one-time, temporary thing, their being in bed together, or if it truly was the start of something more. He’d claimed he wanted the something more, but what if he’d changed his mind?
“For you, yeah.” He tightened his arm around her. “But only if you let me eat them in bed. And you’re naked.”
She could work with that plan.
“So,” she said, feeling like there was so much more to say. Even if she had no idea what or where to start.
“Tomorrow’s the fourth day of Christmas. Four calling birds.”
Was that his mouth she felt brushing over the top of her head?
Maybe he’d bring turkeys. Or more Peeps. She was almost certain he wouldn’t clean out a pet store just to be literal.
Almost certain.
“What’s my present tomorrow?”
Better safe than sorry. Not that she’d ever played it safe around Zack.
“I was hoping we could skip ahead to the fifth day,” he said.
She tried to remember what the days were, but drew a blank. That was what amazing sex did for a girl. It wiped her brain and left her scrambling for useless Christmas trivia. Lords and ladies a-leaping? Maids a-milking? Drummers drumming? God, she hoped he wasn’t planning on playing the drums on her front porch.
“Jog my memory?”
“Wait.” He leaned up and pressed a kiss on her nose. “You, the Christmas aficionado and expert, don’t know the words to the song?”
“Sue me,” she grumbled. “I’m more of a Joy to the World gal.”
“Yeah, but I like that about you.”
She closed her eyes. She liked his sense of humor. Okay, she liked everything about him. More than like, the little voice in her head said gleefully. Was she the only one who felt the sense of connection between them? How did she deal with the emotions he woke in her, especially if it turned out to be one-sided? Because, as new as the being lovers part was, he was the same man she’d spent the last thirty-six months getting to know through his letters. Blurting out I love you seemed…
Right. Wrong.
God. She had no idea.
“What’s the fifth day of Christmas?” At least she could get one of her questions answered.
“Five gold rings.”
That got her eyes open. She splayed her hand out. “Are you planning on investing in gold futures? Decorating me like a pasha?”
“I think that’s the guy in charge of the harem and there’s only one woman I need. So, I was thinking…” He hesitated.
Her breath caught because that pause had to mean something, right? Don’t over-analyze. Don’t rush into this.
“I’d like for us to pick out an anniversary band together,” he said, pulling her on top of him and tugging the faux fur throw from her bed around her. His big, hard, naked body stretched out beneath her and she was in the best of happy places. Staying like this for the next hour—or year—seemed absolutely perfect.
“Why?” She didn’t need jewelry or fancy presents. Honestly, she was more of a chicken nugget girl than a diamond girl anyhow. He didn’t seem to mind, because that was definitely a smile she saw in his eyes.
He held her gaze. “Because I love you.”
Oh. Wow.
But he wasn’t done.
“I’ve missed you for years and I don’t want to miss out on any more time with you. I should have come home eighteen months ago and I’ll have to live with that mistake. You should know, though, that I plan on sticking to you. With you. If you’ll have me.”
“Oh. God.” She didn’t know what to say. Her brain was a blank and she blamed him entirely.
“Say yes? Give me a second chance at us?”
Her heart did something. Something painful. It squeezed and she felt a hot, happy burst of something…the something—no the someone—who was holding her. Even in her head, she didn’t make any sense to herself. Breathing was next to impossible because, oh God, there were all those emotions spilling out of her heart and there was only one thing she had to say.
She smiled. “I love you too.”
The End
This is a stand-alone story in the SMOKE JUMPERS series. Turn the page for more information on Anne Marsh’s sexy firefighters!
Other Titles by Anne Marsh
If you enjoyed Bree and Zack’s story, read the rest of the SMOKE JUMPERS series:
Burning Up (The Smoke Jumpers, 1)
Slow Burn (The Smoke Jumpers, 2)
Burns So Bad (The Smoke Jumpers, 3)
Smoking Hot (The Smoke Jumpers, 4)
Sweet Burn (The Smoke Jumpers, 5)
Other Anne Marsh firefighter books:
Reburn (The Hotshots, 1)
Hot Zone (The Hotshots, 2)
Fired Up (The Hotshots, 3)
*
And don’t forget to sign up for Anne’s newsletter to receive updates about new releases!
SEALed until Christmas
A Lucky Thirteen novella
S.M. Butler
Keep up with all news and updates via the S.M. Butler Newsletter of the Fabulous.
Chapter One
Jesse
‡
I stared out the windshield of Kyle’s truck. How long had it been since I’ve been home to Sugar Falls? Two years? Three? At least three. It felt weird being there. Deep in my stomach, there was a stabbing touch of fear. It ached.
I shouldn’t have taken so long to come home, but it was hard to be there without thinking of Jane.
The house stood just as it had when I had left, with the addition of a couple rosebushes along the front of the porch, and a small lantern by the door. They were probably new, because Mom wasn’t much gardener, even if she wanted to be. Though Dad definitely had the green thumb in the family, so maybe he had done it.
“Hey, man, you good?” My friend, Kyle Lewis, asked. I nodded, but I wasn’t sure that was the answer. Being home was weird. Maybe it was the fact that I’d been done for so long. Or maybe it was the new growth of the town. So many things had changed since I’d been there before. All the houses were similar in that cookie-cutter way. Same shingles. Same brick. Same siding on the upstairs part of the house. It wasn’t like the South Trophy subdivision that had million dollar homes in it, or was it the slums. Hell, Sugar Falls didn’t even have slums.
Yet, despite that cookie-cutter feeling of the neighborhood, my family still managed to make the house their own. I suspected the fresh paint on the porch was probably Mom. Maybe even the hanging plants that looked like they hadn’t been watered in a week.
I stepped out of the truck and grabbed my bag from the bed and shouldered the strap. I leaned in through the window. “Hey, thanks for picking me up from the airport.”
“No problem,” Kyle said. He jerked his shoulder up on one side in a nonchalant shrug. “Jason wants to hang out tomorrow. Drinks or something. You in?”
I nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll probably be suffocating by then.” I cracked the joke, and smiled, but I wasn’t feeling it. In all honesty, I was scared. Thinking of my family, it made me want to get back in the truck, and drive away. I wasn’t ready for this. I swallowed, hard, and wondered if I’d made a huge mistake coming home this year.
Not that I’d had much of a choice. Master Chief had sent us all home. He said it had been stressful this year, and we all deserved a break. Then Mom had called, and all but strong-armed me into coming home. I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with family. It figured. I could deal with a murdering psychopathic terrorist without batting an eyelash, but coming home to spend Christmas with my family? Holy shit.
Kyle had barely driven away when the front door to the house opened, and
a blur of brown hair, accented with a tulle skirt burst out and race down the porch steps. “Jesse!”
I caught Sophie in mid flight as she launched herself at me, and swung her around once before setting her down once again. “Hey, rugrat. Where’s everyone else?”
“I beat them all,” she said proudly. In three years, my little sister had gone from a squirrely seven-year-old to “slightly awkward and not quite ready for teenager-hood” ten-year-old in a tulle skirt and Doc Martins. She’d lost some of her chubby cheeks and child-like innocence, replaced by a mischievous, almost impish grin.
The entire picture of her fell in line with what I had heard about from my mother. Sophie was a lot like me when I was a child, a born troublemaker. It wasn’t until I was older that I’d grown out of those troublemaking ways.
Sophie glanced back at the door. “They’re coming. Slowpokes.”
“Jesse!” My mother’s voice carried out in the quiet afternoon. She wasn’t alone. My entire family poured out after her. My two brothers, my twin sisters, and finally my dad. Jesus. Did I always have that many people in my family? I swore it didn’t seem so big before.
But even with the sheer number of them, just the sight of them lifted the nervous weight on my chest, and filled me with relief. Maybe being home wouldn’t be so bad… or maybe those would be my famous last words.
As soon as she was within reach, my mom wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, forcing me to bend down to her five foot height. It was uncomfortable, but I’d have never told her it hurt. She’d have stopped if I had. “Your email said you would be here this morning.”
“Sorry, Ma. Flight was delayed,” I said, chuckling as I breathed in the soapy scent of her mixed with her perfume. The smell took me back years, back to childhood when I’d buried my head in her stomach when I was upset or when I gave her a hug. The smell had followed me for years, almost like she was protecting me even to adulthood. “It’s only noon, though. Kyle and I got caught up in traffic out of Dallas.”
She harrumphed like a small child, her lip almost protruding in a pout. She hadn’t changed much in the last few years. Her hair was longer, pulled back in a messy bundle and secured with a clip at the crown of her head. She stepped back from me, and grabbed my hands, holding them out from my body as she made her inspection. “Well, let me look at you.”
“Ma, Jesse’s too old for that,” my brother Vince said and clapped me on the back. “Welcome home, dipshit.”
Mom glared at Vince. “Language.”
“I think we’ve all realized that Vince has a problem with language,” my other brother, Coby said. “Mostly, speaking it in complete sentences.”
“Shut your mouth!” Vince scowled.
Mom frowned as she looked me over.
I bit the bullet and asked, “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Did you lose more weight? I told you to eat more. You burn too many calories.”
“I haven’t lost weight,” I said, resigned. We went through this at least once a week when we talked over video. She thought I didn’t eat enough. I’d always had low body fat. I’d been a scrawny little shit growing up.
“You look like a twig.”
“Thanks, Ma. Nice to see you too.”
She smiled at me. “I’m so glad you’re here, Jesse. I’ve missed you.”
“Me too.”
She made a strangled noise of joy in her throat, and threw her arms around me again. When she finally let me go, she sighed. “Let’s feed you. That airline food is crap.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that airlines didn’t serve food on domestic flights anymore unless you paid for it. She’d have probably dragged me into the kitchen instead of letting me walk on my own.
The rest of the family converged as soon as Mom relinquished her hold on me. My twin sisters, Melanie and Ivy each hugged me first. I shook my head as I looked at them. So much bigger than the last time I’d seen them. Matching dark brown hair and blue eyes, bright and happy. At least two feet taller than they were three years before. “Look at you two. You’re almost like grownups or something.”
Both rolled their eyes in unison. Melanie heaved a dramatic sigh. “We’re sixteen, you know. We’re practically done growing at this point.”
Vince slapped my back again. “Good to see ya, bro. I gotta get to work, but we should go grab a beer tonight.”
“Where you working now?”
“Harry’s Garage. Mechanic.” Vince shrugged. “It’s just for the break. I go back to school in January. Not all of us are cut out to be big, bad SEALs.”
Thanks, big brother. He walked toward the house before I could reply, and Coby punched me in the arm. “Dude.”
“Sweet,” I replied automatically, punching him back.
He laughed. “You remembered.”
“We loved ‘Dude, Where’s My Car?’ when we were kids. Best movie ever.”
“Yeah, considering I was like five and we weren’t supposed to be watching it.” Coby flashed his trademark troublemaking grin. “I saw it again recently. I’m pretty sure the appeal was that we were not supposed to be watching it.”
“Blasphemy!” I told him.
Sophie grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the house. “Come on!”
“Where?” I asked her.
“In the house. It’s like a bazillion degrees out here!”
“It’s like fifty degrees, Sophie. Did you forget it’s winter?” I asked as she pulled me toward the steps. “Totally not a bazillion degrees!”
“Sophie, let your brother get his things,” I heard from my mother. She stood in the doorway, leaning with a contented smile on her face. Okay, now that look was probably worth the trip to see.
“Nah, I’ll get them,” Vince said, taking my bag from me. “I’m kinda looking forward to Sophie being occupied this week and out of my hair.”
Sophie turned a nasty glare on our older brother and then her little pug nose lifted up in dignified annoyance. However, she didn’t even slow the way she dragged me inside, talking a million words a minute about all the things she’d been doing since the last time I’d been home.
Suddenly, I was wondering why it had taken me three years to come home. I’d missed every damn one of them. It was almost enough to forget exactly why I had avoided coming home. Almost.
*
Charlene
In my life there was one constant, and strangely enough, it was from the one man in my life that wasn’t constant. It was a full fledged guarantee that my birth father would always get into trouble and I would always have to save his ass. I’d always thought that my adoptive parents would be the ones to save me from my mistakes. And they did, fairly often. Now my birth father, Brent Sanders? He was more of a kid than I was.
Staring down at the necklace in my hand, I was thinking of that a lot at the moment. I tapped my foot on the gravel path, nerves flaring in my body as I glanced around the park. Children screamed and laughed in the distance. Dogs were barking. The sun shined down on the Sugar Falls City Park. And still, no Brent. Where was he?
It was our normal meeting time, I’d left the signal in the same place as usual. I knew everything was the way it was supposed to be. The only problem was he was thirty minutes late. And as unreliable as my biological father could be in all things life, he was never late for our lunches. I worried my lower lip between my teeth, rolling it back and forth.
My phone rang, but I didn’t jump for it. Brent never called. He was overly paranoid. That was why we’d set up these weekly meetings. So I could check in with him and he could show me that he was still alive and well. I glanced at the screen. It was my mother, my adopted mother. My birth mom was long gone. I sighed and answered it. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, Charlie. Are you going to be home for dinner tonight?”
“No, I think I’m going to grab something quick before I go to work tonight.”
I glanced down at my watch. I might not even have enough time for that, actually. My shift started
in half an hour and I’d been waiting on Brent for almost an hour.
“You need to quit eating all that fast food.”
“Mom, it’s not exactly fast. It’s Bo’s, and he takes a good ten minutes for easy stuff, so I’m going to have to let you go so I can get in before the crowd.”
I didn’t hear what she said in response. That paranoid itch Brent had donated in his DNA tickled the back of my neck, making my hairs stand on end. I glanced around while my mom told me of the dangers of fast food and how it would clog my arteries. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I felt like there was something I was missing. I took a calming breath, and scanned the area.
There.
On the far side of the park, on another bench, a man was playing on his phone. Normally, that shouldn’t have been a big deal, except he kept looking up and casing the park. So, maybe he was waiting on someone too… But he didn’t have the look of someone expecting anyone. He also didn’t look like a Sugar Falls resident. Most of Sugar Falls was ex-military—which he might have fit—but he didn’t have the look of a man who had settled here because of its proximity to the base and the VA and that was our primary population besides the college crowd. His black coat was bulky, made for more winter than Sugar Falls saw all year combined. It was only December, and real winter—as wintery as Sugar Falls got, anyway—was usually in February. His jeans were too nice, not worn by machine or farm work, two of the main occupations in the town. The guy didn’t belong.
I was probably just overreacting, a product of Brent’s overactive paranoia he’d apparently drilled into me. But as Brent said, safety first. I needed to get to work anyway.
“Mom, I gotta head out. Time for work.”
“Okay, be careful coming home, alright? They found that creeper out on the McIntyre place a few months ago. There could be more.” In the last big thunderstorm of the summer, one of my biology classmates and friend—Maddie Benson—had been attacked outside the McIntyre house. But that had been the summer, and I wasn’t sure why Mom was bringing it up in December, a week from Christmas.