The Southern Comfort Christmas: A Heartwarming Christmas Romance (Windy CIty Romance Book 6)

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The Southern Comfort Christmas: A Heartwarming Christmas Romance (Windy CIty Romance Book 6) Page 5

by Barbara Lohr


  “Feels so good, honey,” he whispered. How he loved this woman. Oh, those first days after he hired her had been rough. Some of the nannies only lasted three days. But Harper? She hung in there, putting up with Bella’s crazy eating and tantrums. Harper helped bring peace to his house. Didn’t take long for him to see her as much more than a nanny.

  Finished with his neck, she started on his chest. Just kept squeezing out warm water onto his skin and then sponging it up. Swirled it. Her hand’s sexy rhythm sent a shiver through his whole body. “Feels so good, babe. So damned good.” She knew just what he liked. And she was being thorough, going over everything two or three times. “Should have been a nurse, Harper.” But he sure didn’t want her doing this with any other man.

  “Not gonna happen,” she whispered, blowing a bit on his wet chest. “You know I love my work.” The sponge skated across his chest again. She was so sweet and careful when she lifted his arm. Both arms felt like lead weights to him. What must they feel like to her?

  “Darlin’, you think I should be manscaped?” He and Rick had been talking about that lately, getting a good chuckle. But now the chuckle didn’t come. Stayed in his head. Was she talking to him? “What do you say, Harper honey?”

  “I say you’re getting goofy. Don’t you dare. I like it. All of you.” Her nails slid up one arm and down over his chest. She chuckled as he drifted back out, enjoying this oh, so much. He was lucky, so lucky that her stupid ass boyfriend Billy had moved to California and left her heart-broken. She’d needed a job. A miracle when she showed up to interview for the nanny position, after she’d done a terrible job trying to be a stripper at the bachelor party.

  Terrible but funny. Funny. Funny. The words echoed in his head that felt like one of those stills his daddy and brothers used to keep deep in the woods. The kind of crap he left behind him.

  The activity on his legs brought him back out of it. The cool scissors inched up one leg with a cool, shearing sound. “Pants cost a small fortune.” Could hardly get his fat tongue around the words.

  “They’re ripped, baby.” And her fingers skated from his chest to his waist. “Just like your six pack. Ripped.” And she laughed. Harper could be such a tease. Flirty and fiery. Should have known it from the red tint in her sherry-colored hair. A chill of excitement swept over him while she worked at getting the slacks off. She’d turned on the overhead fan. Glancing at the whirling blades made him dizzy. So he shut his eyes. Didn’t have to see. Just feel. That sponge on his legs. God, how could she make him so hot when his body was so useless right now?

  Reaching for her hand, he fumbled until he felt his ring on her finger. “Oh, babe.”

  “Ye-ah-ess?” Only she drew it out, slow and sexy. Southern, not Chicago. She liked to tease him.

  “Can’t. Wait.”

  “Me too. Soon.” But she sighed. He’d let her down. So much to do.

  But she was getting to the personal parts. His shivers worked deeper. Soul-deep where they damn near combusted. Never knew he could love any woman so much. Like he’d given her his soul. She’d changed his home with her sassy ways. Her cute, crazy way of dressing. Bella adored her. He did too. Worshipped the ground that she walked on. Danced on. Loved on. On and on.

  Words tumbled in his head while feelings washed over and under his skin. Even dulled the ache in his ankle. Dimmed the fear that he wouldn’t be what he’d been, dancing with her, making love to her. When he squinted up, the dim light flickered over her face from the fan blade. Her hair had come loose from her braid. Cute smile on her face, Harper worked that sponge, dipping it into the warm water, squeezing it and coming back.

  Always coming back.

  Doing such a good job.

  Then no more sponge. Just Harper. Settling herself over him. Smelling like Harper, feeling like Harper, loving him like only she could––just when he thought he couldn’t be a man. That ankle hurt so bad. Then she made everything hurt so good. Better than he’d ever had it. “Watch the family jewels, okay?” he murmured. Or did he say that in his head?

  “Oh, honey. I sure will.” She was oh, so careful. Slow and careful.

  ~.~

  Next morning, all hell broke loose. Harper tripped down the steps from her third floor bedroom to get Bella up. She could hear Connie banging pans around in the kitchen and the rumble of Cameron’s voice.

  Last night. She blushed to think about it. That memory would last a lifetime. “Bella, you up?” She poked her head into Bella’s bedroom.

  “I don’t want to go to school.” Bella cowered under her blue Ninja blanket, and Pipsqueak peered out too.

  Of course she didn’t want to go to school. In all the fuss about Cameron, Harper hadn’t gotten around to mentioning the pink slip or the problem. And she didn’t want Cameron taking on more right now.

  Time for her to step up to the plate. “Not to worry. But let’s not bother Daddy, okay?”

  “Okay.” No questions asked.

  Opening Bella’s top dresser drawer, Harper pulled out some clothes and tossed them on the bed. Bella scrambled out of bed and into a pair of red leggings and a navy and red-striped top. Suddenly alert and aware that breakfast awaited downstairs, Pipsqueak scampered from the room, paws clicking on the hardwood. She was headed for Cameron, no doubt. Harper knew the feeling.

  “You look good enough to eat,” Harper teased Bella, helping her on with her tennis shoes.

  “I want a ribbon in my hair. Can I have one?” Bella pointed to the lime green scarf holding back Harper’s own hair.

  “Hmm. Are you old enough for this?” Her wild ways were rubbing off on Bella, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

  “Harper. Pretty please?” Bella pleaded, but Harper was already pawing through a drawer and came out with a red headband. A few minutes later they were headed downstairs, Bella bouncing down the Oriental runner in front of her.

  Harper’s stomach turned squishy, going back to last night. Talk about making lemons into lemonade. Or love into making love. Or something like that.

  At the kitchen door, she pulled to a halt. Cameron was sitting at the breakfast table, the Savannah Morning News in hand. He looked so cozy and casual in his gray tracksuit, the light jacket partially unzipped. This could be Sunday morning with toast and eggs, except for the cast on his right foot. The rings under his eyes indicated he'd had a rough night.

  “Daddy, Daddy. Are you all better?” Bella looked about to launch herself at her father when Harper grabbed her.

  “We have to take it easy, punkin. Daddy’s still healing.”

  Stirring something on the stove that smelled like oatmeal, Connie turned. “Such a surprise to see him on the sofa in fresh clothes.” She gave Harper a knowing look.

  “Amazing, right?” Harper wasn’t offering any details. Connie would have been even more surprised if he hadn’t been wearing the tracksuit. Sleep had almost claimed the man when she helped him ease on his sleeping pants. That cast wasn’t easy. “Slit it. Rip it,” he’d mumbled. “Woman you’ve worn me out. Just leave me.”

  “Okay, Boss Man.” She kind of liked Rick’s nickname for Cameron. Usually he needed to be the man in charge. But now? She might have to take on some things for him, not that she wanted him to know that.

  “Oatmeal?” Connie held up a bowl.

  “Just coffee, thanks.”

  Sliding onto her seat, Bella said, “Me too. Coffee, please.” Then she giggled, wrinkling her nose.

  Cameron exchanged a look with Harper and pursed his lips into a pretty please. Harper melted, although she was trying to diet to fit into her mother’s wedding dress. “Yes, please Connie. I’ll have some of that delicious oatmeal and so will Bella.”

  Smiling, Connie ladled oatmeal into two bowls. “Bananas and brown sugar on top?”

  “Oh, yes. Yum,” Harper said for Bella’s benefit.

  “Yes, yum,” Cameron murmured. But those words were meant only for Harper’s benefit and had nothing to do with oatmeal. Her ears bu
rned and her breasts tingled.

  “Anything good in the paper?” she asked, pouring juice for herself and Bella.

  “Not as interesting as what’s right here.”

  “You rascal.” She bent to kiss him. “Your face is scratchy. I may have to shave you later.”

  Cameron grinned. “Later.”

  Patting her back, or thereabouts, he nuzzled her neck. “I’d say this is what interests me most right now.”

  “You two,” Bella said with mock disgust.

  Connie just smiled and the morning felt so warm and cozy. Why couldn’t life always be like this? Filled with sweet moments. Just the two, well, three of them. Four if you counted Pipsqueak. She ruffled Cameron's hair. “Got a plan,” she asked. “I’m taking Bella to school. I can drop you off. Maybe the guys can drive the Bentley back later.”

  “Sounds good to me. Thanks.”

  Harper felt Bella’s questioning eyes on her and gave a little shake of her head that Cameron didn't see. This wasn’t the time to bring up Mrs. Powers, the principal. Taking the seat next to Bella, she poured milk on her oatmeal and picked up a spoon.

  Although Cameron did his best to negotiate the stairs when they left the house, she could see everything would be an effort for him. Cameron definitely would not be able to help decorate anyone’s house next weekend. Maybe that had been wishful thinking anyway. She’d have to talk to Rick or maybe Adam, her buddy from college.

  Once Bella was fastened into her seatbelt, they took off for the Buchanan mansion, where Cameron had been working. “Talk about returning to the scene of the crime,” he murmured when they arrived. Jumping from the car, Harper helped him out and handed him his crutches.

  “I can do this, darlin’.” He started up the walk. Rick’s pickup was already in the driveway, and he appeared on the porch.

  “Have a good day, Daddy!” Bella called from the back seat. The crutches stopped thumping and Cameron turned, the sun catching his blue eyes. As Harper got back in the SUV, he threw a kiss and Bella sighed. “Isn’t Daddy the most handsomest man?”

  “Yes, sweetie. He sure is.” But Harper had work to do, and she threw the SUV in gear. Time to go to school. She would talk to Mrs. Powers and explain the whole thing. If the principal didn't accept it, well then she would take another course. But she wasn't about to bother Cameron about this right now. When they reached the low, brick building that was Bella’s private school, Harper didn’t join the student delivery line. Instead, she pulled into the side lot and parked.

  “What are you doing, Harper?” Bella leaned forward in her seat.

  “Taking you into school.” Jumping out of the SUV, Harper went around to open the back door. By that time, Bella had already unclipped her seatbelt. She was growing up, and Harper had mixed feelings. The toddler she’d met at that first interview was becoming a little girl. Bella didn’t need her quite so much. But today she did.

  Hand in hand, they walked inside together, where it sure smelled, sounded and looked like school. A teacher stood primly at each door, greeting students.

  “Hello, Bella.” Mrs. Davenport called to them, and that was a good sign. Squatting, Harper looked Bella right in the eye and handed her the lunch Connie had packed so carefully. “Now you have a good day, you hear?”

  Uncertainty clouded Bella's eyes. How could she have a good day after yesterday? If she were truthful, the little girl reminded Harper so much of herself. She'd been a rascal in grade school. After the boys and McKenna, Big Mike and Maureen Kirkpatrick thought they could coast on this one. Hadn’t they seen everything with their other children? Harper proved them wrong.

  “Can I have a kiss?” Harper turned her cheek for the peck bestowed on her then grabbed Bella for a quick hug. “Bye, sweetheart. See you tonight.”

  “Later.” Trying so hard to be a big girl, she trotted off. How could anybody be mean to this little angel? Taking the pink slip from her purse, Harper headed for the office door with Principal, Mrs. Elaine Powers etched on it in gold. When she entered the room, two other people sat on the wooden bench. Clearly, they were waiting and one older girl, probably in third or fourth grade, was having a heated conversation with the receptionist. But no matter how high her voice rose, the student got nowhere.

  “You just wait until I tell my parents about this,” she finally said. So young and such an attitude. Cameron still wasn’t sold on the private school. Said they’d have to see. The receptionist’s eyes remained glued to her screen. Looking down, Harper checked the nameplate. Lucinda Krebs obviously wasn't taking any guff from this girl. Turning, the girl stomped toward the door, her blonde curls bobbing.

  The receptionist looked at Harper as if to say, Do you believe this?

  “And what can I help you with?” Lucinda Krebs’ eyes flitted over her lime green sweater and black miniskirt with lime and black-striped leggings. Too late, Harper realized this probably wasn't the type of outfit mothers wore. Not here. This school was more a country-club casual school. But this morning Harper had been preoccupied, and all her good intentions were forgotten. “Could I see Mrs. Powers, please?”

  Making a great show of checking her desk calendar, the receptionist asked, “Do you have an appointment, Mrs...”

  “No, not really.” Did the pink slip in her hand count? She waved it. “But I do have this.”

  Stretching out a hand, the receptionist took the note and scanned it. The waiting couple, probably parents, were all ears. “But Mrs. Powers has asked that you call at your earliest convenience.”

  “Oh, I know. But I thought, you know, meeting face-to-face would be better. More personal.” The last part wasn’t cutting any slack in the woman's eyes. Harper watched her eyebrows rise like bristling caterpillars.

  “Please have a seat.” The phone on the desk buzzed, and the receptionist motioned to the couple. “Mr. and Mrs. Vander Gann, you may go in now.” Hmm. Were they the same Vander Ganns that owned the jewelry stores?

  Sitting on the bench the Vander Ganns had just vacated, Harper felt her black miniskirt inch up. Thank goodness for the leggings. It didn't escape her that the receptionist was taking this all in. Picking up a magazine, she began to flip through the pages. Duller than dirt. No shoes. No fall fashions. Crossing her legs, she admired her new Jessica Simpson platform heels. Cameron had complimented the black she now wore, and she figured these shoes were a step in the right direction. Then she caught the receptionist eyeing them. Was there jealousy or contempt in that glance? Whatever. Harper was used to both.

  She looked at the title of the magazine. Education Today. Yep, duller than dishwater, as Connie would say. So she checked her phone for messages. She had something from Adam, old friend and former neighbor, and she started to text. What are you doing later this morning? I think I need an intervention.

  Adam’s salon didn't open until eleven. Certainly by that time, she'd be finished here at school. Name the time and the place zipped back.

  Her thumbs got busy. Tied up now but I'll get back to you pronto.

  Tied up? Sounds like fun. I’m on pins and noodles.

  Harper smiled. She needed some time with Adam. She’d gotten a lot more than a cup of sugar from Adam when they were neighbors...some of the best advice ever. Her friend called it like he saw it. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Yikes, that couple had been in there for twenty minutes, which slowly turned into thirty. She wondered what their kid had done. Keyed the principal’s car? Gum on a teacher’s chair? Not that she’d know anything about any of that. Giving in to one of her worst habits, she began to gnaw at a nail. After all, Lucinda Krebs was busy with her computer screen.

  Time dragged on. Had that clock hand moved at all? She picked at her dark aqua nail polish. Once in a while, the receptionist would hit her with a self-satisfied look that said we are so important in this office that you cannot expect to just get in without an appointment.

  Not that Harper was reading a lot into one glance. The woman sure seemed up tight, her fingers typing awa
y on the keyboard. Maybe Lucinda just needed a bathroom break.

  Phone still in hand, Harper went on her Facebook page. Took a picture of the magazine she'd pitched aside and typed... For your Christmas List. Added a smiley face or three. Then she shared some of the funnier videos her friends had posted. The cat and dog ones were favorites. A lot of her former SCAD classmates had interesting, creative jobs. That’s just how they rolled. They’d had their act together and scored jobs in New York, hub of the fashion industry. She kept up with them on Facebook.

  That wasn’t Harper. She’d never even gotten an interview. Her resume had some holes, or so she was told. Something about those missed classes.

  But the way things turned out, she didn’t regret staying in Savannah. Not since Cameron entered her life. Holding out her left hand, she wiggled her fingers, enjoying the way the light hit her diamond. What fun that dinner had been when Cameron popped the question. Crazy, but fun. Selena Ruiz, who dated her brother Seth, had come to town for a break. Seth had messed up bad, so Selena had been there, along with Cameron’s mother and sister, who just about slid under the table when he brought out the little box. But Bella got so excited. Harper had been over the moon. Happiness flooded her just thinking about that night, followed by a good dose of lust. Cameron just did that to her.

  When the door to the principal’s office clicked open, she slipped her phone into her handbag. Time to move this along so she could meet Adam.

  The couple exiting wore satisfied smiles, as if the meeting had gone well. Maybe they’d softened up Mrs. Powers for her. “Thank you for coming in, Mr. and Mrs. Vander Gann,” Lucinda stood as they passed. Yep, the woman was wearing enough gold to tempt a Brinks’ guard. Hands down, they owned the jewelry stores.

  “So good to see you, Lucinda.” Mrs. Vander Gann breezed past, her perfume stinging Harper’s eyes. Fumbling around in her bag, she grabbed her inhaler and took a quick whiff. Passing out in the principal’s office? Not an option today. Although Harper expected to be shown back, that didn’t happen. In fact, she sat there another five minutes before Lucinda motioned to her. “You may go in now. But Mrs. Powers has another appointment at ten.” Oh, goody. That left five minutes.

 

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