Oh, bad idea. I’m not ready to dress up as an elf and prance around for pictures. I mean, physically I can do it, but mentally, I don’t think I have it in me.
“Absolutely.” Bash tosses the box of cookies on the kitchen table and makes his way over to the tree. “Mom and Dad would want us to celebrate. And they always loved your ideas.”
“No, they always indulged my ideas.”
She’s absolutely right. No one, and I mean no one who's sane, would like her ideas. “That’s correct, some of them were just awful.”
Jules laughs and meets my gaze. Her lips curl in a smile and she mouths thank you. With a brisk nod, I take a step back and let them dig through the boxes to find the lights and ornaments. There’s a lightness to Jules that wasn’t there earlier, even when she was waving her ass at me. I’ll be content sitting here watching them decorate the tree; it’s not anything I need to be a part of.
The doorbell rings as Bash pulls out several strands of tangled white lights. He tosses them at Jules before heading to the door. “I’ll get it. I ordered dinner.”
“Come on, Nash. Help me with the lights.” Jules smiles and curls her finger, beckoning me to her. That slender finger of hers is dangerous. She could beckon me anywhere with that thing. Like straight to hell if I’m not careful.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Bash?”
“I asked you, didn’t I?”
Indeed, she did. Who am I to keep the lady waiting?
“I’ll unwind and you can start wrapping. I can’t reach the top.”
I grab the lights out of Jules’ outstretched hand and nudge her out of the way with my hip. “That’s because you’re a midget.”
“Yeah, well.” She cocks her head to the side and looks me up and down. “We can’t all be six foot two giants.”
I chuckle. I’m sure I am a giant to her. She barely comes to my shoulders. I can’t complain. It makes me feel big, manly. After plugging in a strand to test the lights, I string them around the base of the tree, winding my way around it. Jules follows me closely, uncoiling the lights as I drape them among the branches, and adjusting where she’s not happy with my draping. She could do this herself, but I guess it’s more fun to go behind me and ‘fix’ what I’m doing.
“So, am I correct to assume I have you to thank for all this?” She looks up at me, the soft glow of the Christmas lights illuminating her face. She looks fucking beautiful.
I turn my head back to the tree, desperately needing a distraction, and fiddle with the lights. I don’t need to look at her like she’s my last meal. “I may have mentioned a few things to Bash. He would have gotten there eventually.”
She lays a hand lightly on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “You’re giving him way too much credit. He’s not the most observant.”
“Maybe. You’re important to him, Jules.”
I look into the light brown of her eyes, the flecks of gold striking in the bright white lights. She’s important to me. I wish I could tell her how I really feel. How I want her to be mine, even if it’s just for one night. But fuck, my hands, and tongue are bound to her brother’s promise.
Jules holds my gaze, a slight dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Thanks, Nash.”
“Of course.”
“But don’t read into any of this,” Jules blurts, breaking whatever moment we shared. “Decorating for Christmas makes me nice. I’ll go back to hating you tomorrow.”
“Alright, assholes.” Bash comes back into the living room, and I take a quick step away from Jules. “I’ve got the Chinese in the microwave to keep it warm. Let’s finish up with these lights so we can eat.”
Jules gives him a patronizing look and gestures toward the kitchen. “If you want to eat, go ahead. Nash and I have the lights.”
“Nonsense.” Bash narrows his eyes at me before raising his brows in question. I’m sure we’ll be having a conversation about this later. “I’ll just turn on the Christmas music. We could stand to be a bit more festive around here.”
While Bash queues up a Christmas playlist I’m sure contains more Mariah Carey than any man should listen to, I turn back to Jules. She’s working on a particularly nasty tangle, but her eyes keep glancing my way. Small furtive looks that have me wondering if maybe she doesn’t hate me as much as she thinks she does.
If that’s the case, we’re in trouble. Her hatred is the only thing holding me at bay. The only thing that keeps my hands to myself and my promise to Bash intact. I need to be a good friend, a loyal friend.
But I may need her more.
Chapter Six
Jules
What the hell’s wrong with me?
I’m supposed to hate Nash. I do hate Nash. Just because he does something super sweet and selfless, like talking my brother into renewing our Christmas traditions or helping out at the bakery, doesn’t mean all’s forgiven. He’s still a manwhore with no respect for women. And he’s still the man who destroyed my first love for no damn reason.
Even though I hate to admit, it softens a spot in my hardened heart. But that’s it. No more feelings toward Nash.
His good deed yesterday has nothing to do with the truffles I’m making for his mom’s Christmas Eve party. They’re for her because she’s a lovely woman, whom I happen to be fond of. Unlike her son. Who’s infuriatingly altruistic and irritatingly handsome.
As if he can hear my thoughts, Nash strolls into the kitchen in a pair of gray sweats and a white t-shirt, sipping the cup of coffee he’s stolen from the kitchen earlier. Those gray sweats are like catnip for women and I’m not immune.
“What are you doing up so early?”
I spin around with a corner of my lips tipped up in a half smile. “Dipping your balls in chocolate.”
“That would be a first for me, but I’m open to trying new things.” Nash leans his ass against the counter and takes a sip of his coffee.
“I’ll absolutely cut them off for you if you want. If you wish to present those balls to your mom at her party tonight, then by all means, pull them out. I’ll get the kitchen scissors.”
Sebastian chooses that moment to walk into the kitchen and press a quick kiss to my temple. “Good morning. What exactly are we pulling out and cutting off?”
“Your danglers if you want to serve them at the party tonight. I’m dipping balls.” I arch a brow and look at a wide-eyed Sebastian before my eyes land on Nash, who’s appropriately choking on his coffee. “No takers?”
Sebastian takes a quick step away and looks at me with his face twisted in disgust, like I was talking about my period. “I’m sorry I asked. There’s no instance I can think of where I would want to show my balls to Nash’s mom.”
“I’m sure she’d love to see your balls, especially if they’re festive.” Nash grins wickedly.
Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I think your dad may disagree.”
I dip another gingerbread truffle in the melted chocolate, swirling it around to make sure it’s completely covered. “So, we’re done talking about your balls. No one needs to see them. What are your plans for the day? Are you both heading over for the party early?”
“We’re going early, but not for a while.” Sebastian pours himself a cup of coffee from the pot I made earlier. “We’ve got plenty of time to bother you while you’re fondling balls.”
“Oh joy. I’m so excited.”
“What can we do to help?” Sebastian comes up beside me, grabs one of the freshly dipped balls and throws it in his mouth. A mouth that pops open, and he fans frantically. “It’s hot.”
Nash flanks my other side. “No shit, dummy. It’s melted chocolate. It’s supposed to be hot.”
“If you guys want to help.” I elbow Nash with a grunt when he comes too far into my bubble. “I’ve got a white chocolate drizzle in that little squirt bottle. One of you can put that on top of the dried truffles.”
Both guys wear identical looks of confusion, mouths slightly agape, brows knitted together, and heads tilted to
the right. Apparently, they can dazzle in the courtroom with their fancy lawyer talk, but something as simple as drizzling chocolate stumps them.
“Well.” I push away from the counter, grab the bottle, and demonstrate the back and forth motion of a drizzle with a few of the truffles. “Easy peasy guys. Surely two brainiacs such as yourselves can figure this out.”
Smash and Bash look at each other, nodding in a silent conversation I’m not privy to. I ignore them, like I usually do, and head back to my ball dipping.
Nash sighs and grabs the bottle out of Sebastian’s hands. “Fine. I’ll do it. Your meaty paws would only fuck it up, anyways.”
“It’s true. These hands aren’t made for delicate precision work. Yours are much more feminine.”
“Fuck you.”
“Only in your wildest dreams, lover boy.”
I roll my eyes. These guys are a couple of idiots. They could’ve had the truffles finished by now. After a little groaning and moaning, Nash gets to work. His drizzle is actually pretty good. I mean, not as good as mine, but almost professional looking.
Almost.
With my dipping, Nash’s finishing touches, and Sebastian’s supervision, we’re finished in no time. This’ll give me some time to relax before getting ready for the party tonight.
“Well, thanks, guys. I’ve got cleanup covered. Why don’t you two go play video games or play in traffic or something?”
My brother looks over at me, his brows raised. “We’re lawyers. We don’t play at anything. We excel. Come on Nash, let’s go excel on the PlayStation.”
Finally, they leave, and just when I get the kitchen cleaned up my phone rings. I peer down at the screen to see a picture of Holly, my best friend since high school.
I answer the phone. “Hey, Holly. How’s it going?”
“Hey girl,” Holly’s voice sounds through the phone. “I have some good news for you.”
“Oh? I’m intrigued.”
She laughs. It’s not an innocent laugh, mind you. It’s the one that says there’s a high probability she’s up to no good. “Nick Stratton will be at the party tonight. He’s been single for a couple weeks now.”
There it is. Holly’s been trying to set me up with Nick for months. He’s nice, handsome, successful, but our timing never lined up. I was dating Cannon the Vagina Slayer and then Nick started dating an out-of-towner.
“Vince told me he was asking about you. You could do worse, landing the town dentist.”
I laugh. “You know I don’t care about that shit. But I’ll make sure to look for him tonight. I could use a conversation with a nice guy for once.”
“Nice guy? Has Cannon called you?” Holly hisses through the phone. “I will cut off that man’s dick.”
“No. No. Nothing like that.” I lower my voice in case Nash or Sebastian try to eavesdrop. “Sebastian invited Nash to come stay with us. At my freaking house. He’s been an ass per usual, but he’s also been a little nice. I really don’t know how to deal. He’s giving me whiplash.”
“Nice? What do you mean nice? He’s never nice.”
“Right? He stopped by the shop. He actually came in to torment me. I saw it written all over his stupid face. But after he saw how busy I was, he turned into some white knight and jumped behind the counter to help me out.”
“What?” she squeals. “That’s crazy.”
I throw my free hand out in front of me, gesturing wildly. “I know. He’s never tried to help before. And he talked Sebastian into helping me decorate for Christmas.”
“It sounds like he’s definitely being more than nice. Is he still as good looking as he was last time I saw him?”
“He’s not good looking,” I quickly lie. Maybe a little too quickly.
“No? Not even a little?” She sounds skeptical, even over the phone. “You know I’ll see him tonight.”
I huff. Holly always knows when I’m lying. It’s really inconvenient. “I don’t know, Holly. What do you want me to say here? That he’s smoking hot? That he was cute back when we were teenagers, and now that he’s a filled-out man, he’s fucking sexy? Is that what you want to know?”
“Just wanted you to admit it. Not really to me, but to yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks for that. I could have done without it.”
“Well, that’s just too damn bad.” Holly hums through the phone as if to say ‘told you so.’ “I’ve seen you two together. I think you’re both attracted to each other, but neither one of you will admit it.”
“You’re too much. And you’re also wrong. Nash and I aren’t into each other. We despise each other. Always have. We tolerate each other because of Sebastian.”
She laughs. “No, you haven’t fucked each other silly because of Sebastian. There’s a fine line between love and hate, Jules, and you two have been walking that line for years.”
I scoff. She’s way off base. She’s so far off base, she’s in a different field. Yeah, Nash is hot. I can admit that. But that’s it. There’s no attraction, no fleeting lust, no reaction other than hatred.
“Stuff it, Holly. Take this as a victory, I’m going to talk to Nick tonight. Maybe he can be my Christmas present from Santa. And there will be no more talk of Nash.”
There might be a fine line between love and hate, but with all the history between Nash and me, there’s no chance I'll ever cross it.
Chapter Seven
Nash
My hair is tousled to perfection, and I’ve got on my favorite lady killing, ass hugging pants. But nothing, and I mean nothing, can detract from the giant cat face sweater with a sewn in scarf and bells. I didn’t even ask my mom where she got this hideous thing. I don’t want to know. That would mean there’s more of them. Thankfully, Bash is in something equally hideous. His has a Christmas tree on the front, also with stylish bells, and lights that work.
You know, just in case the bells aren’t enough.
Jules is in a black sweater dress thing with white and red snowflakes, and she looks adorable in her distractingly fitted leggings that reveal every curve of her mouthwatering legs. Unfortunately, I’m not the only one that notices.
My blood simmers and I take some deep breaths to calm myself. Almost every guy here has turned his head in her direction at least once. Even those married fuckers. I’ve got to get myself under control before I end up beating the shit out of one of them. I’m sure it would go over as well as it did ten years ago.
Like a lead balloon.
I grab a glass of red wine from the catered bartender and toss it back before grabbing another. I glance at Jules and frown at her chatting in a small group with another girl and two guys. One of them seems particularly engaged with her, and it pisses me off even more.
“Hey there. I like your pussy cat.” The feminine phone sex operator voice pulls my attention away from Jules.
Holy big boobs. Her black dress is low cut and skintight, contrasting her tanned skin and platinum hair. I don’t think she got the memo about wearing an ugly sweater, or any kind of sweater, but no one seems to mind. It doesn’t hurt her case that it’s a tad bit nipply in here.
“Hi.” I know it’s not the wittiest greeting, but between Jules talking to strange men and this woman’s large rack, I’m distracted.
“I’m Cali.” She peers up at me, bats her fake eyelashes, and smiles. To add to the effect, as if it wasn’t obvious enough she wants my attention, she twists a piece of hair around her index finger. “And you know, that sweater would look great on my bedroom floor.”
If she looks like a hooker, talks like a hooker, and is named like a hooker, well, she just might be a hooker. I’m not sure if she’s here on a night off or if I should ask her how much she charges for an hour.
“Nice to meet you, Cali.” I tug on the frayed ends of the scarf sewn into my sweater, trying to think of how to remove myself from this conversation without being rude. “I’m—”
Cali flips her hair over her shoulder and giggles. “Oh, I know who you are, silly
. You’re one of the big time lawyers from Denver.”
“Yep, that’s me.” I give her a tight smile and drink down the rest of my wine before exchanging it for another glass. Between Jules and this conversation, I need all the wine I can get.
“What do you say we get out of here and get to know each other better?”
Jesus. This girl is forward. I like a little cat and mouse game, but she’s serving herself up on a silver platter and I can’t even pretend to be interested. Maybe it’s the woman with the honey blonde hair narrowing her amber eyes at me from across the room while they flash in anger.
“Sorry, this is my mom’s party. I actually need to go socialize. But my business partner is over there if you want to say hello to him.” I point to Bash and her eyes twinkle with little dollar signs as she walks off to intercept Sebastian.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. He can figure out how to get rid of her. Bash hates bimbos, so he’ll more than likely punch me for sending her over, but that’s a problem for a later time. I turn back to Jules just in time to see her walk down one of the hallways off from the main room, hanging off the arm of one of the assholes she was talking to.
My nostrils flare and my blood boils as a wave of rage flows through my body. What the fuck is she doing go off with some d-bag? My body jolts with recognition just as they disappear into the next room.
Nick Stratton. Hell no. He’s more of a man slut than I am, which is saying something. Bash isn’t going to like Jules going off to hook up with him. I’ve got to stop this shit. No one is going to touch her while I’m around. Even me. But especially not that jerkoff.
I drain my new glass, put it back on the bar with a little more force than necessary, and stomp my way across the room.
Chapter Eight
Jules
“I’m glad I ran into you.” Nick leans sideways against the wall, his arm raised and bent above his head, and grins at me.
Stocking Stuffers: A Five Story Christmas Anthology Page 19