Christmas in His Bed

by Sasha Summers

  Law enforcement. It made sense. Spencer’s father and grandfather had both been cops. Why shouldn’t Spencer? It also explained why he left for work in the middle of the night and why he’d been on assignment for so long. She’d been too lost in a lust-induced haze to find out what he did for a living—about his life now.

  Spencer sighed. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “I feel bad to cause problems, especially this close to the holidays,” Tatum jumped in. She did feel bad, which she didn’t like, for forcing him out of his home, even if it was her house. And if—if—she did decide to proposition Spencer, it would be a hell of a lot more convenient if he was here.

  Spencer’s gaze met hers. “There’s nothing to feel bad about.”

  Had his eyes always been so blue? So...unrelenting?

  “I love it when people put up trees outside.” Lucy steered the conversation back toward decorating. “Ooh, or those giant light-up nutcrackers?”

  “Nutcrackers?” Mrs. Ryan didn’t look pleased with the suggestion.

  “My car’s too small for that,” Tatum said, eyeing the space in front of the window and remembering her father’s pleasure in big, flocked trees that made a mess but looked bright and cheery glowing with colored lights.

  “I can take you,” Spencer offered. “To get a tree, I mean. Or two. One for inside, one for outside.”

  “He’s got the truck,” Lucy agreed. “It can fit all three of us, right?”

  She caught the arched eyebrow he turned on Lucy before he answered, “Yes.”

  “Can’t you shave before you go out in public?” Mrs. Ryan sighed heavily. “You’ll have to excuse his appearance. I can’t stand it when he’s undercover, putting himself in harm’s way. Not only is it dangerous, but he looks like a...a gang member.” She waved at her son.

  Tatum grinned. All she saw was a powerfully built man, a man with an amazing body and equally amazing hands. “He did surprise me last night.” She felt delightfully wicked as she added, “I was a little shell-shocked when he left.”

  Spencer looked at her, blue eyes narrowing. “Oh, it was mutual, believe me.”

  The look in his eyes made her tingle. She’d been more than satisfied, even if he hadn’t. But was he still interested? She hoped he was. She cleared her throat, her voice tight as she asked, “Next time, maybe we can finish our conversation?”

  She saw him swallow, the flare of his nostrils, the absolutely gorgeous ridge of his jaw locking. His nod was stiff—but it was enough to have her throbbing.

  “Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” Lucy murmured.

  She and Spencer looked at Lucy in unison, making Lucy grin widely.

  “Well, I have to get those pies in the oven for the women’s auxiliary auction Saturday night.” Mrs. Ryan stood. “You’ll come, won’t you, Tatum?”

  “I’d like that, thank you,” Tatum agreed.

  “There are so many wonderful parties and events this time of year. And a wedding. A wedding you will be shaving for, Spencer?”

  Spencer sighed, then nodded.

  “Well, that’s something, I suppose. Have fun today. Now that you’re back, Tatum, I expect to see a lot more of you. You’ll feel at home again in no time.”

  “I will, thanks,” Tatum agreed.

  “Good.” Mrs. Ryan kissed her on the cheek. “Spencer, make sure you get the rest of Tatum’s lights done today, as well. The roof looks a little bare.”

  Tatum might want to strip Spencer down and explore every inch of him with her hands and mouth, but she could decorate her own house. “I can probably—”

  “I’ll do it,” Spencer assured her. “And we’ll have time to finish that conversation.”

  So many delicious images raced through her mind that every inch of her tightened with anticipation.

  “Sounds like that’s settled. You make sure the job is done right, Spencer,” Mrs. Ryan said, shooting her son a stern look.

  “I’ll make sure,” he said, staring into the fireplace, his jaw tight.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear,” Mrs. Ryan called out, waving goodbye as she headed back across the street to her house.

  “She hasn’t changed a bit,” Tatum said, smiling at Lucy and Spencer. “You’re lucky to have her.”

  Lucy hugged her. “Oh, Tatum... I just realized... I’m sorry about your dad. And your mom. Well, that’s it. You’re going to be a Ryan this Christmas, no arguing. No way you’re going to spend it alone, you hear me?” She hugged her tighter. “This Christmas does need to be extra special.”

  Tatum blinked back her tears. She’d lost her mother and grandparents years ago. Her father had passed last year. And now, without Brent, she had no one to celebrate with. “Thanks, Lucy. But I don’t want to invade—”

  “Invade,” Spencer said. “You’ll appreciate coming home to a quiet house.” He smiled at her, his blue eyes so blue.

  “Off to the tree farm?” Lucy asked. “Or would you rather go shopping?”

  One look Spencer’s way told her exactly what she wanted, even if it wasn’t one of her choices. But she could wait. Anticipation was a good thing. Until then, she’d have to find a way to occupy herself. “Let’s start with a tree.”

  “I’ll get the truck,” Spencer said, heading out the front door.

  “What’s it been? One day?” Lucy asked as soon as they were alone. “How naked did you get last night? And don’t even try to deny it. You two—in the same room—wow. I need a fan and some ice water to cool down.”

  She should argue, but she’d never been good at lying. “I admit, he’s... I’m...overwhelmed.”

  Lucy laughed. “Yeah, well, you’re not alone. He almost poured orange juice in his coffee this morning.”

  “He did not,” she argued, delighted to know their time together had him just as rattled as she was.

  “Yep,” Lucy said. “Aunt Imogene texted him to come straight over after work, ready to tear into him for not having the house done. I don’t think he’s had a break in a few weeks but his mom gets all crazy over the holidays. All he said was he’d gotten distracted. By you. Then he stormed off for a shower. I can only imagine what that meant.” Lucy giggled but didn’t ask questions. One of the many reasons Tatum had always loved Lucy—she didn’t pry.

  But Lucy’s words ramped up her excitement level. If he’d found last night distracting, she couldn’t wait for tonight.

  * * *

  SPENCER HELD HIS breath as Tatum bent forward to inspect the bin of wood-chip angels. She had great legs. Long, trim, encased in tall black boots. The sight of her round ass hugged by skintight leggings almost made him groan. It definitely made his pants uncomfortable. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “These are adorable.” She straightened, holding up one of the ornaments.

  “They’re to go on your outside tree,” Lucy explained. “To give it that rustic look. If that’s what you’re going for?”

  Tatum turned the ornament in her hands, her expression assessing. “I have no idea what I’m going for, but I like them.”

  “Start with a tree,” he offered.

  She looked at him, nodding. Her gaze fell to his mouth. “Whatever you say,” she said.

  She was teasing him. Driving him out of his damn mind. Later, he’d remind her she said that. All he could think about was getting her back to her place and into her bed. Instead, he barked out, “This way,” and led them outside. If he was lucky, the chill in the air would help him gain some control over his libido. The last time he’d felt this kind of desire, he’d been nineteen and she’d been his whole world. He glanced back at her, talking and laughing with Lucy. He was older, more grounded now...but somehow being around her made him forget that.

  Last night had been a revelation. Leaving her had been one of
the hardest things he’d ever done. Yes, he’d wanted to finish what they’d started, but it was more than that. They’d had unfinished business for a long time. Now that she was back, and they were the way they still were, he hoped he’d finally be able to apologize. And, if she’d give him the chance, explain why he’d done what he did—why he’d broken both of their hearts. His had never fully recovered.

  One hour and two trees later, they were pulling in front of Tatum’s house. He was glad Lucy had volunteered to squeeze in the middle. He’d spent most of the day being aware of Tatum’s every move. He wasn’t sure how he’d react if he was being pressed up against her. His wayward body had no problem revealing just how much he wanted her. Walking through a Christmas tree farm with a hard-on wasn’t exactly socially acceptable but there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it. Now that they were back at her place and he knew what he had to look forward to, he was in for a long, uncomfortable evening.

  Spencer followed them down the path, watching the light fall of snowflakes settle in Tatum’s hair. She was shivering. Didn’t she have a heavy coat? Guess it didn’t get too cold in Los Angeles. It took everything he had not to pull her close and warm her up.

  As Tatum opened the front door, Lucy said, “If you decide you need extra hands, call my brothers Dean and Jared. They’re off tomorrow. I figure Zach is going to be pretty out-of-pocket since this is his first Christmas as a married man. And with Patton’s wedding coming up—”

  “Zach is married?” Tatum asked, stunned. “Is Patton finally marrying Ellie? She was so stuck on him.” She hung her keys on a hook by the door.

  “Patton and Ellie ended a while back,” Spencer said. “Cady, Patton’s fiancée, she’s a force of nature. One my brother didn’t stand a chance against.”

  “It was one of those whirlwind sort of things,” Lucy agreed. “The wedding’s New Year’s Eve at a fancy mountaintop resort in Colorado that Zach manages. Romantic, right?”

  Her open disbelief had Spencer grinning from ear to ear. “Really?”

  Spencer nodded. “I know. Patton. Whirlwind. Marriage. Romance. Who’d have thought?” His big brother Patton was hardly the hearts and flowers type. Hell, neither was Zach. But somehow they were both content to be tied to one woman.

  Tatum nodded. “He was always sort of...stuffy. And reserved. No offense.”

  “None taken. He was. Hell, for the most part, he still is.” Spencer laughed.

  Lucy giggled. “You should see him, Tatum. He’s adorable. Never in a million years did I think Patton could be so crazy in love. And show it. But Cady’s got him hooked.”

  “It’s nauseating,” Spencer agreed. But that wasn’t really true. He was happy for his brothers—hell, he envied them. Both of them had the love of a good woman, women who completed them.

  “And Zach?” Tatum asked.

  “Bianca,” Lucy said. “Sweetest girl I have ever met. I think we were all worried he’d bring home some world-traveling, socialite type with his career and all. But Bianca is wonderful, grounded and kind. You’ll meet them both soon, being an honorary Ryan this year.”

  He saw the look on Tatum’s face, the yearning pressing in on him.

  “I remember being so jealous of you growing up,” Tatum said, hooking her arm with Lucy’s. “A big family, get-togethers, big parties.” Her gaze met his. “There was always something happening at your house, Spencer. Lots of laughter. And they’re all still here? Your whole family?” Tatum asked. “That’s—”

  “Smothering?” he interjected, laughing.

  Tatum laughed.

  “Sometimes,” Lucy agreed. “But when you’ve got multiple trees to decorate and a mother who wanted this done yesterday, having extra hands—”

  “Is pretty damn convenient,” Spencer agreed.

  “So, tomorrow, we’ll get you set up before the big Holiday Lights kickoff?” Lucy asked. “I’d offer to stay and help tonight, but I promised to watch Mrs. Medrano’s grandson.”

  Which was a relief. He didn’t know how he was going to get Lucy to leave, but there was no way he and Tatum wanted a chaperone tonight. He grinned, anticipation warming his blood. “I’ll get the house lights done. And the tree up.” He glanced at Tatum, noting the flush to her cheeks and hoping it meant she was just as eager. “What else do you want to tackle tonight, Tatum?”

  The look she shot him made him bite back a hiss. Damn, but her face gave everything away. And damn if he didn’t like the way her mind was working.

  “Shopping,” Lucy prompted.

  Tatum nodded, tearing her gaze from his. “Yes. Food... I should go to the store. You’re doing so much to help me out, the least I can do is feed you. And your family tomorrow.”

  “I’ll get started here,” he agreed.

  Lucy checked her watch. “I have an hour. We can shop, I’ll drop you off and head to Mrs. Medrano’s?”

  “Thank you,” Tatum said. “Thank you both for today. It was great to get out, to have...fun doing normal things, you know?”

  He needed to remember she’d been through a hell of a lot. She seemed happy, but then, Tatum had always been the smiling, upbeat sort—even when she was hurting on the inside. He wanted her to be happy. If Lucy wasn’t standing here, he’d tell her as much. She deserved to be happy. And if chopping down a tree and putting up some lights made her happy, he’d do it.

  He was also more than willing to take off all her clothes, spread her out on her bed and love her body until she was shouting his name. He knew that would make him very happy. He shoved his hands back in his pockets.

  Lucy hugged her. “It’s Christmas, Tatum. You’re home. You should be happy.”

  Tatum’s smile touched his heart. He’d missed her. He’d missed that smile.

  “Now let’s go get you some food so you’re not starving,” Lucy said. “Need anything?” she asked him.

  “Nope.”

  Lucy nodded and headed out the door.

  Tatum smiled up at him. “You sure you don’t want anything?”

  “You know I do. But we’ve got all night,” he promised, his gaze shifting to her full red lips. “And I plan on taking advantage of that.”

  She shivered. “Who said last night’s offer was still good?”

  He smiled. “It’s still good.”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her green eyes narrowed before she whispered, “I’ll hurry.”

  He nodded, taking in every nuance of her reaction. The dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, parted lips, the quickening of her breath... When their eyes locked, he wanted to lose himself in her—to bury himself deep and never come up for air.

  “Tatum?” Lucy called from the front porch.

  She blinked, smiled up at him and headed out the door.

  He stood watching them run across the snow-covered lawn to Lucy’s waiting car.

  Loving Tatum had been as easy and natural as breathing. They’d been inseparable, snatching every spare moment together. How many nights had he scaled the side of the house to meet her on her roof? How many nights had they lain there, staring up at the stars and sharing their plans? Plans he’d severed for her. To protect her. Even though driving her away had made every day for the next two years an exercise in survival. He swallowed, watching Lucy’s car pull away from the curb.

  Now they had time, time he wanted with her. So he needed to get the damn lights up.

  He worked quickly. First things first, he dragged her tree inside, ready to decorate. Then he worked outside, finishing the roof and dormer windows, wrapping the rest of the porch railings and hanging lights around the front windows. He stood back, looking up at his handiwork.

  “You’re a Christmas light superhero.” Tatum’s voice reached him.

  He glanced back to see her, holding two large bags of groceries. “Got it?”
/>
  “There’s two more,” she said. “If you can grab them, Lucy can head to Mrs. Medrano’s. I think I made her late.”

  “I think Mrs. Medrano can be five minutes late for her weekly bingo game,” Spencer said, hoping to reassure her. “But I’ll get the groceries.”

  “Thanks.” She hurried toward the front door.

  He opened the back door of Lucy’s car.

  “You okay?” Lucy asked him.

  He frowned at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Don’t get all defensive. I’m not being your shrink—I’m being your cousin. The one that knows how devastated you were after your breakup and Tatum left, remember? So I’m worried about you, sue me.” Lucy sighed. “What is it with men acting like they have no emotions? Like it’s some weakness or something. News flash—women like men that emote. Not cry their eyeballs out, but emote.”

  Spencer laughed. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that.” He paused. “I’m good. I’m glad she’s back.”

  Lucy nodded. “I thought you might be.”

  He scooped the two bags of groceries from the back. “Have fun tonight.”

  “You too,” she said, giggling. “I’m pretty sure you’re not going to need this, but here. In case you need my sofa to sleep on.” She held out a key.

  He hoped she was right, that he wouldn’t need it, but he took it anyway. “Thanks.” He slammed the car door and headed back to the house. It looked good. No one on the neighborhood decorating committee could complain now—his mother included. He pushed through the front door, gently shoving the door shut behind him. He put the groceries on the counter and placed the eggs and milk in the refrigerator before he saw Tatum’s shopping bags sitting—unpacked—on the counter.

  “Tatum?” he called out.

  No answer.

  He headed down the hall, toward her room. “Tatum?”