Tyler takes my hand and drags me from the bed. “I don’t care if you go to the ball looking like Cinderella. It wasn’t long ago that I wore rags. As it is, I only have one suit.”
“Then we’re a matched pair.” I laugh, picking up his sweatshirt and jeans and shoving them between us.
“So you’ll go with me?”
“I suppose I should. Maybe I can make my own appeal to Dylan and Carina. I did some research. Did you know my friend Rebecca used to run the foundation, and she was the founder’s best friend?”
“Oh, that should go well. Maybe she can speak for you.” He wraps me into his arms and buries a kiss on the side of my neck. “Want breakfast in bed?”
What is he doing tempting me?
My knees wobble and heat swells in the pit of my belly. I close my eyes, but the visual of Tyler with a towel draped around his neck, his fiercely tattooed chest, and hair still dripping from the shower sends crashing waves of heat through my body.
“I want you in bed.” My voice surprises me with its huskiness.
“About time you admitted it. You sure?”
I swallow my drool, ignoring his cockiness, and nod. Holding him last night, I had ample opportunity to explore the planes of his muscles and bones, snuggle on his chest. It’s time to act.
Tyler glides over me, his muscles rippling against my sensitive skin. His mouth crashes over mine, more urgent and possessive than I expect. A moan drags from my throat. My mind blanks. All sensation stops except for everything Tyler: the press of his body, his fresh, wet scent straight from the shower, the pulsing sensations between our lips, the heated touch and currents of desire cresting lower down.
Just as I ease back into the bed, buried under the solid haven of Tyler’s weight, a ringtone jangles from his new smartphone.
Tyler lifts his head, waits, then lowers his lips to my chest. The ringing stops, but starts again a few seconds later.
“It’s probably my work,” Tyler mumbles and backs off the bed. “Be right back.”
He takes the phone to the living room.
I roll onto my tummy, still in a haze of desire, surrounded by his heat. How’d I get so lucky to find a man so honorable, kind, and brave? Sure, he has his issues, but he’s accepted my past and he trusts me. Trusts me with his vulnerability.
Tyler returns with a scowl on his face. “I hate to do this to you, but Carina called. She wants me to change out the speakers’ bios and add inspirational quotes.”
My excitement at spending a day with Tyler flattens like road kill under an eighteen-wheeler. I pull my nightgown to cover my thighs. “Actually I should take Bree ice skating. She’s feeling better, and it’ll be a nice outing for us.”
“You’re still coming to the Donor’s Ball with me this evening?”
“I’ll think on it while I shower.” I throw on a robe and brush by him on my way to the bathroom. The sampling of his taste and touch is enough to start my fantasies flowing. Forget a cold shower, I’m going for a long, hot, and stimulating one. By myself, unfortunately.
When I emerge from the shower, he’s gone.
The faded red rose sits in a crystal bud vase beside a plate of toast and eggs and a glass of orange juice.
The invitation with my name is placed on the chair. I pick it up. He’s scrawled a note: Sorry I have to run. Be mine, Kelly. One night. Tonight. I have needs, too. Tyler.
~ Kelly ~
“I want to ice skate.” Bree holds my hand as we return to my mother’s apartment. “I don’t like the rain.”
“We need rain, honey, for the plants and the trees.”
“What if it’s raining Chwistmas Eve? How’s Santa gonna fly in the rain?”
We step through the door, and I remove her boots. “Santa can fly through a blizzard. A little rain isn’t going to hurt.”
“What about when I play the sheep with baby Jesus? I don’t want sleep on wet hay.”
“You’ll be snuggly warm in your costume, and there’s no rain on the stage.”
“But if it rains, the stable might leak.”
I give her a kiss and take off her jacket. “How about I make you a cup of hot cocoa?”
Ella holds her arms wide for a hug. “Bree, don’t be such a little worrywart like your mother. Everything’s great. Wanna dress up?”
“Yay!” Bree claps her hands. “Can I be a fairy princess?”
Together, Ella and Bree skip toward Mother’s closet.
“Guess she’s forgotten all about the skating.” Mama helps me off with my coat and hangs it. “Tyler dropped by at lunchtime. Why aren’t you picking up his calls?”
“It’s too much pressure.” I lower my face. “He wants me to try and get that job again. I lied on the application. There’s no way they’ll hire me.”
“Then go as his guest and don’t think about it. Did you call Rebecca and ask her to put in a good word for you?”
“I did. She thinks I shouldn’t waste my time with Warspring. Since she’s no longer at Mogul Bank, she said I can pass tips I hear in the hallways to her.”
“But, that’s illegal.”
“I know. I turned her down. She got upset and asked if I was going to work for the government as a snitch. What should I do? Should I work in enforcement? They’ll pay me well, although nothing close to banker salaries.”
“It’s up to you.” Mother rubs the back of my neck. “You’re stressed and tensed. Too busy worrying about the future to enjoy the present. You’ve got a decent, hunk of a man interested in you. Let’s go through the closet and see what dresses Ella saved for you, and get you ready for the ball.”
I turn around and kiss her cheek. “Thanks, fairy godmother. You’re right.”
“Text him right now. Tell him you’ll be ready in an hour, no make that two.”
“Will he still want me to attend?”
“Stop worrying,” Mother says, then calls, “Ella, Bree, we’re going to dress Cinder-Kelly up for the ball with Prince Charming.”
“Yay,” Ella and Bree squeal in unison and crowd around me.
Mother twirls her index finger like a wand. “One glass slipper coming up.”
19
~ Kelly ~
The banquet exceeds my expectations: posh hotel, organic gourmet food, dancing and mingling, with a wine list to rival investment banking parties.
And Tyler. Wow is an understatement. Dressed in a tux with tails, with his athletic build and dark blond looks, he’s the picture perfect spokesman for Warspring International. Unfortunately, it means I’m a tag-along as we’re introduced to a dazzling array of important people: business leaders, CEOs, congress-people, and other high profile donors.
I’m in the powder room to freshen my makeup and pin the loose strands of my hair back. I straighten my evening gown with beaded accents designed to accentuate my curves and tuck a bra strap back in place.
Rebecca appears behind me.
She sets her clutch on the marble counter and plucks out her compact. “Have you given more thought to my offer? You’re so talented, it doesn’t seem right for you to be locked out of finance.”
“It’s okay. There are other avenues to explore.”
“Seems you’ve caught yourself the man of the hour. Every woman out there’s filling out pledge cards in astronomical amounts. All those funds will need to be invested.”
“I’m sure Warspring has their fund managers.”
“A twenty-one-year-old college dropout. She only got the job because she’s sleeping with the founder’s son.”
“You mean Carina? I thought she was young.”
“Still chewing with her milk teeth.” Rebecca sniffs. “By the way, I’m still on the board. One word from me, and I can have you in place.”
“But the probation?” My hand trembles as I reapply my mascara.
“We’ll create a job for you. Receptionist or office assistant. Then you can monitor their investments on their internal computer system. I have a password you can use.”
“I can’t. If I get caught—”
“I’ll pay for Bree’s tuition to the most exclusive preschool, then private school. Would you prefer the French School or an alternative learning program?”
“You asked me how prison was.”
“Money talks, even in jail.” She lines her blood red lips.
“Yes, it does, but it’s hell just the same.” I snap my clutch shut. “You’ve helped me make my decision.”
“What do you mean?” Her mouth forms a perfect O as she applies her lipstick.
“I’m going to take the offer with the Feds. Only fair to warn you, dear friend.”
“Then I must warn you, dear friend. Mr. Manning’s fair game for a quick roll in the penthouse.” She plucks her clutch from the counter and steps to the bathroom door. “Good luck among all the fishes.”
I wait thirty seconds before exiting the powder room. The conversation with Rebecca brings me back to the dog-eat-dog world of investment banking where everyone has a price tag and everything’s for sale.
No more. When I walk back to the cocktail bar, I find Tyler surrounded by gorgeous socialites. His gaze locks onto mine. He excuses himself and makes a laser line toward me.
“How are you holding up?” He kisses me behind my ear. “Let me know when you want to leave.”
“Party’s just getting started. Want to dance?” I tug him toward the ballroom. “I’m waiting for you to sweep me off my feet.”
“That can be accomplished, but first, let me wish Dylan and Carina a Merry Christmas. The office is shut next week for the holidays.”
Hand in hand, we meander around the bar to the head table. The band on stage plays a bluesy tune, and couples are swaying to the rhythm.
I point to the guitar player. “Hey, isn’t that Sawyer?”
“Yep,” Tyler says. “He got the job. I overheard Dylan saying he was auditioning for a backup guitar player, and I sent him over.”
“At least one of your referrals worked out.”
“You want me to speak to Carina again?” He touches my shoulder, his fingers lightly caressing.
“No, I’ve decided to work with the Feds. Going to be a snitch.”
“I’m proud of you.” He sweeps his thumb across my chin. “You’re one of the good guys now.”
A man taps Tyler’s shoulder. “Hate to interrupt, but my father wants to meet you.”
Tyler’s gaze lingers on me a moment longer before he replies, “Dylan, this is my date, Kelly Kennedy. Kelly, Dylan Jewell.”
“Enchanted.” Dylan takes my hand. “Let’s meet my large family. Every one of us is delighted to have Tyler be the public face for Warspring.”
Tyler rests his hand on the small of my back while Dylan leads me to the head table. A silver haired man with piercing blue eyes looks up.
“That’s my dad, Rich Jewell.”
I stop short, causing Tyler to bump into me. Dylan’s father has his arm around Rebecca.
“Dad, this is Tyler Manning and Kelly Kennedy.”
I greet Mr. Jewell. If he remembers my notoriety, he makes no sign of it as he returns the cordialities.
Rebecca appears not to know me. She gives me a disinterested once over, then leers at Tyler. Funny, I never noticed her canines were so long.
“Rebecca Morley, my father’s fiancée,” Dylan continues with the introductions. “Tyler Manning and Kelly Kennedy.”
“Enchanted,” Rebecca speaks to the air between us. She then smothers Tyler with praise, asking him about Afghanistan and his tours of duty. Tyler tugs at his collar and rocks on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with her devouring attention. He turns me toward Carina.
She gives me a close-mouthed smile and dismisses me, not mentioning the interview or position, and then I’m introduced to Dylan’s siblings: three brothers, Brad, Trent, and Crash, and two sisters, Kayla and Storm. Crash and Storm are teenaged twins, the babies of the family.
“That’s a lot of Jewells,” I say to Tyler when we’re out of their earshot. “I can’t believe Rebecca’s in the middle of it. She doesn’t seem to be the charitable type.”
“You know her better than I do,” Tyler says. “Should I watch my back?”
“Back, front, top, bottom, inside, out.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Tyler chuckles. “One more thing. They want to pay a tribute to their mother, Ava Jewell. Dylan asked me to pick the speaker. I hate to spring it on you, but would you say a few words about the importance of second chances, and why every orphan deserves a second chance, no matter their background or circumstance?”
“Sure, I’ll be delighted.” I straighten my posture as the familiar growl of adrenaline shoots through my veins, energizing me. I always loved the spotlight and the sheer power of being on top. How I missed it all this last year, humbled by my mistakes.
I breathe a silent prayer of gratitude to God and head for the podium.
~ Kelly ~
“You were awesome.” Tyler kisses the tip of my nose.
I unlock the sliding glass door to my apartment and giggle. “Are you trying to talk your way in?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out of the rain.” He lets the umbrella down and shakes it.
“Poor homeless guy. Guess you’ll have to take the couch again.” I brush my body against his as we enter my apartment.
He drops his overnight bag on the floor. “I was hoping to get a spot at the foot of your bed.”
I remove the goofy Santa hat the party goers made him wear. “Maybe if you’re extra special nice, Mr. Claus.”
“I think Mrs. Claus prefers naughty.” His breath is hot in my ear, sending electric shivers over my body.
“Make that a shot of naughty and a lot of nice. Let’s dance.” I loosen his bowtie and wrap my hands around his neck, eager to feel the press of his majestic body against mine.
“Mmm, you’re right. We can make up for it now.” He slides his arms around me, pulling me close. “More private.”
“Private, I like.” I sway in his arms. The silence is broken only by the thumping raindrops, the swish of our breathing, and the beat of my love-crazed heart.
He asked for one night. A night for his needs, and I aim to give it to him. Waking up this morning with him and not touching him was pure torture. Last night had been about comfort. Tonight, much more.
I unbutton the top three buttons of his shirt and kiss his chest below the collarbone. The faint trace of earthy musk revs my pulse, thrumming moisture between my legs. “Make love to me, Tyler.”
“I want to, wanted to since I laid eyes on you.” He captures my mouth with a long, slow kiss while his hands stroke and explore my body.
Floods of desire crash over me, pent-up from a decade of withheld appetite. Nothing I’ve tasted or touched can compare to the sharp desperation of wanting Tyler, needing him, skin to skin, heart to heart, deep inside me. What started out slow and easy escalates rapidly, the kisses turning ravenous and grabbing.
Walking backward, I guide him into my bedroom while shedding his clothes. He runs his fingers over the beads on my gown and unzips it. I let it slip to the floor.
He sucks in a jagged breath as he turns me in his arms. “Wait. I don’t have protection.”
“Neither do I.”
The look of consternation on his face would be comical if I weren’t as equally disappointed.
“Guess I fail the Boy Scout test.” He leans back and wipes his forehead. “I don’t think we should take any chances.”
Think? Who’s thinking? Score one for responsible and vigilant.
“You can think of something. You’re quite a handyman.” I sag onto the bed and hold up my arms for him.
“You got it, your unexpected touch.” He grins, before swooping over me and kissing me hard and deep, holding me tight and tender.
Everything inside of me responds to him, feeling safe, desired, and protected. Sweeping his hair from his face, I gaze into his warm, blue eyes. “I want you for more than
a single night. Let me heal your wounds. Let me be the one to love you.”
His mouth turns down and he closes his eyes, shaking his head. “I want you too, but you don’t know what I did.”
20
~ Kelly ~
Tyler’s face is stony and guarded. “I’ll always have nightmares. I can’t promise you I’ll ever be healed. There are sights and sounds you’ll never want to share.”
I cling to his strong shoulders. “I want to help you. Don’t you believe in second chances?”
“I’m a killer.” His voice breaks. “There’s no second chance for the dead.”
“It was your job. It was kill or be killed.”
He lowers his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I shot a child, Kelly. A child.”
My entire body freezes, and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “How? When?”
Tyler’s eyes glaze over with a faraway look. Sweat erupts on his face. His jaw shudders as his breath sizzles between his teeth.
“A boy about ten or eleven. He was crying, yelling, wearing a suicide vest. We could have disarmed him. We could have helped him.”
I wrap my arms around Tyler, bringing his head onto my chest. “You had to stop him. He would have killed others.”
“He was scared. He kept yelling and had his hand on a string attached to his vest. He was shaking from head to toe. I told him to stop.”
I wipe the sweat off his brow, kissing the top of Tyler’s head. “You saved more lives by shooting him.”
“No, I didn’t. The crowd gathered around him. Some were screaming in anguish and others yelling at me. A bunch of guys from my platoon were closer to him and went to break up the commotion. Then the boy blew up.”
Tyler’s entire body quakes, and his breathing is harsh. He scratches his face, his fingers digging into his flesh. His eyes squeeze shut. A heartrending cry shrieks from his mouth. “That kid never had a chance.”
A Father for Christmas Page 11