Any Given Snow Day

by Marie Harte

  Besides being stuffed full of amazing food, Mitch had to admit the company today had been fantastic. Simon made him laugh, and they’d bonded over the dog show, much to his amusement.

  Becca tried not to act involved, as if she only watched to learn of the different breeds. But she seemed to soften when Simon nagged her, once again, about getting a dog.

  If that wasn’t fun enough, after dinner, when Mitch had tried to help clean up, he’d been banished from Becca’s kitchen. So he and Simon had bundled up and gone to a nearby park to throw the ball.

  They’d instead “happened upon, by sheer coincidence,” a bunch of Simon’s friends engaged in a touch-football game.

  Simon dragged him in to play, and Mitch had an absolute blast. It brought back his childhood, playing for the love of the game. Take away all the money and the pressure to win, and the youthful joy of the sport remained.

  He’d laughed like he hadn’t in years, and to his pleasure, he’d seen similar delight in the others. Simon’s dry wit kept him entertained, and Mitch knew he’d never had a better Thanksgiving.

  If he hadn’t known better, he’d swear he was falling in love with Becca…and Simon. The idea of family had always appealed to him, but he’d never thought he might find it. And not here, so soon after leaving his old life behind.

  There was a magic in Becca, and it spread to everything she touched. He knew he sounded like a Hallmark card, but he’d swear he’d known, deep down, the very moment he’d seen her, that she was his. Something had just clicked. If she hadn’t disliked him so much, he might have ignored yet another gorgeous woman thrust in his path.

  But Becca had more than outward beauty…

  “You still awake?” She nudged him with an elbow.

  Nothing seductive or romantic about that.

  He stifled a laugh. “Sorry. Isn’t the game over yet?”

  “Over?” Simon looked incensed. “The Packers can’t do squat with the Bears’ offense. Please.”

  “Dear boy, check the score.”

  A heated argument erupted with the boy, and Mitch fell into it all the way.

  “That’s it, Simon Bragg. Time to put up or shut up.” Mitch rolled up his sleeves.

  Simon paused. “What are you doing?”

  “What my brother and I always do to solve an argument. We arm-wrestle for it.”

  He ignored Becca rolling her eyes, because he saw her grin, having as much fun as he was.

  “Arm-wrestle?” Simon looked intrigued. “But you have a clear advantage. All those steroids from your time in the NFL buffed you up.”

  Becca snorted a laugh. “Simon.”

  “Smart-ass. Ah, smart-butt,” Mitch corrected before Becca could scold him.

  The boy snickered.

  “Okay, skinny arms. Let’s go. I’ll let you use both hands if you want.”

  In the end, Mitch won. Simon complained at the unfairness of it all, then took his consolation prize in the form of extra pumpkin pie.

  Mitch sat back with Becca, wishing the hour hadn’t grown so late. That he didn’t have to go.

  But she had an impressionable teenager in the house, and Mitch didn’t want to screw things up. Not now, when he’d seen how things might be someday. If miracles existed and he didn’t spook her.

  He’d seen her panic a few times when they’d all been laughing, enjoying their dinner. Her confusion at the shared sense of how right they all fit together. Not just her and Mitch, but her, Mitch, and Simon.

  So, Mitch made the smart play. He stood and stretched, feeling as if he’d gained ten pounds in turkey alone. “Damn, girl. You sure can cook.”

  She smiled. “Yes, I can.”

  He pulled her to her feet and gave her a hug. “I’d better go.”

  She squeezed him tighter, and he let himself hold her a little longer.

  Then they both pulled back. “Maybe we can have lunch this week, if you get some time? Or dinner?” He tried to play off the request as casual and thought he’d nailed it.

  “That would be nice.” Her eyes were shining, more green than brown in the dim light.

  “I’d better say goodbye to Simon before I go.” He found the boy upstairs whispering into his phone.

  When Simon saw Mitch, he hung up. He didn’t look happy.

  “Problem?”

  Simon sighed. “It’s Jenna. She’s still after some kid who doesn’t know she’s alive. I don’t get it. Girls are stupid.”

  Mitch nodded. “Yep. And so are we. If you like Jenna, why not tell her?”

  “What? She clearly likes someone else.”

  “You’re friends, right? Maybe if she knew you liked her, she wouldn’t look at other guys.”

  “Maybe.” Simon gave him an odd look. “Does my mom know you like her?”

  Mitch didn’t know how to answer him. Becca wanted them to be quiet about their relationship around others, and taking her son’s feelings into account certainly made sense. “Ah, well…”

  “You like her. She likes you. Why can’t you just admit it?”

  “Fine. I like her,” Mitch growled. “But your mom needs space. I’m not rushing her. And neither should you.”

  “Hey, I’m cool, man.” Simon held up his hands in surrender, but the huge grin on his face told Mitch he might have made a mistake being so honest.

  “Your mom is an awesome lady. We’re good friends. I don’t want to ruin that.”

  Simon’s grin faded. “It’s me, isn’t it? A teenager in the way isn’t helping you woo her. She was right.”

  “What?”

  “She said I was blocking you. Not cock-blocking, but just, you know, in the way.”

  “Jesus. Your mother said that?”

  “No, Jenna.” Simon sighed. “Then she started talking about the dickless wonder again. It’s like she’s shoving him in my face or something.”

  Mitch crossed his arms over his chest. The poor kid. “Why would you think that? Does she know you like her?”

  “Well, yeah. But as a friend. Kind of. I don’t know.” Simon kicked at a bike helmet on his floor.

  A subtle glance around the room showed a well-loved boy. Posters of pro-skateboarders took up one wall. A bookshelf full of trophies, ribbons, and pictures of Simon from toddler to teen filled it from top to bottom. A few books looked well-used, and Mitch was pleased to see in Simon a fellow fantasy reader.

  “You like David Eddings too?”

  “He’s old school, but yeah.” Simon frowned at the helmet. “Everything changed this summer. I don’t get it. What’s wrong with her?”

  So much for talking about books. “Same thing that’s wrong with you, probably.” Mitch slapped him on the back, cringing when Simon stumbled. “Sorry. Look, Simon. If you want to know what’s bugging your friend, ask her. Be real with the girl. Women like honesty.”

  “Are you honest?”

  “As honest as I can be without trying to hurt someone.” Mitch decided to be blunt with the boy, who acted as the man of the house. “Look, I really like your mom. A lot. But she still misses your dad, and loss is tough to deal with.”

  “Dude, it’s been seven years.” Simon ran a hand through his ragged hair. “I miss him too, but I don’t get into crying jags or anything.”

  Mitch didn’t say anything about the scene he’d witnessed a few weeks ago in Becca’s shop.

  “And it’s not like she hasn’t dated since Dad died. She even told me he’d want us to be happy.” The pleading look in Simon’s eyes drew on Mitch’s heartstrings.

  “If he was as great as I hear he was, he would want you guys to be happy,” Mitch agreed. “But when you love someone as much as your mom loved your dad, healing takes time. Letting go is even harder.”

  Hell, his brother still hadn’t let go of Rhonda, and Deacon couldn’t stand the witch.

  “Some pain grabs a hold of you and is a bitch to let go. When your mom’s ready, she’ll see that.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you could help her see that.” A direct
challenge Mitch not only heard, but saw in the boy’s face.

  “Yeah? Well maybe you could help Jenna see that too.”

  “Sure. I can. I will.”

  “Fine. I will too.” Wait. Will what?

  Simon lost the intensity and laughed. “Sucker. Good luck, Mitch.” He gave Mitch a bear hug, which Mitch, surprised yet pleased, returned. “And let me know when I can start calling you Daddy.”

  “God.” He turned and left to the sound of Simon’s hysterical laughter.

  ******

  Becca knew she had to deal with this. It had been four days without seeing Mitch, and she felt like an addict needing a fix. They’d texted and chatted, laughed and shared information about a few things in town Mitch had wanted to know about. But not seeing him left a void she couldn’t fill, no matter how busy she tried to be.

  The shop, her cousin, her friends, and Simon couldn’t fill it. Damn Mitch Flashman.

  She stood at his doorway ringing the bell.

  “Hold on!” She heard the yell from inside. “No, fuck you.”

  She blinked. When he ripped open the door, he wore only a sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts.

  Whoa, momma.

  “Oh, hey, Becca.” His wide grin welcomed her. He stepped back. “Come on in.”

  “Motherfucker. You did not…” Deacon paused in the living room, and spying Becca, gave a sheepish smile. “Oh, ah, hey, Becca.” He held a video game controller in one hand. “I was just helping Mitch out with something.”

  She stepped farther into the room and looked at the television. “NBA2K? I thought you guys liked football?”

  Deacon looked embarrassed, but Mitch laughed. “We love to play football, and not online. On a field. But Deacon sucks at basketball—”

  “I do not.”

  “We generally stick to virtual b-ball.” He tossed his controller to Deacon and smiled at her. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.” She felt shy all of a sudden. “I came to see how you were.”

  He glanced from her to his brother. “Actually, I had something I wanted you to give Simon. It’s in my study. Hey, Deacon, play a game without me? I’ll be a few minutes.”

  “Sure. I think I’m changing my guy to Russell Westbrook.” Deacon walked back to the couch, flopped into it, and went back to playing.

  Huh. Boys got older but never outgrew their games, apparently.

  Mitch led Becca down the hall, then broke off in front of a door. “Hold on.” He darted into another room but returned quickly. Then he tugged her by the hand with him, seemingly in a hurry.

  She felt foolish for having come all the way to his house without calling first. But it had taken all her courage to make the trip, as if seeing him outside prescribed parameters changed something between them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your game.”

  “It’ll keep.” Once inside the study, he stopped her before she could fully enter, turned, and backed her against the door as he shut it behind them.

  “Mitch?”

  The hungry look on his face had her frozen. When the kiss came, it was every bit as ravenous as he looked.

  He stole her breath, kissing her with a passion that made her dizzy. His hands were everywhere, palming her breasts and pinching her nipples until she couldn’t help moaning into his mouth. Then his hand slid down her pants, under her panties, and he groaned as well.

  “So wet. Becca, I need you.”

  She nodded and linked her hands behind his neck, wanting to devour him.

  Mitch sucked her tongue and slid her hand down his front to cup his erection. He felt huge under her hand.

  He spun her around. “Face the door,” he growled.

  She obeyed, panting, beyond excited as he rid her of her shoes, pants, and panties. Now naked from the waist down, she felt exposed. Turned on. Needy as all get out.

  “Mitch…”

  “Shh. Don’t want to get too loud.” He ran his hands up her legs, sliding between her thighs, then his fingers were inside her.

  She arched up on her tiptoes, needing more.

  “Fuck. I’m not gonna last.” He left her, and she heard something tear. The condom wrapper. But where had he gotten—

  “I’m coming in,” he warned moments before he entered her. From behind, he felt huge, and the constant pressure as he continued to thrust nearly set her off.

  Mitch reached a hand around to play with her clit. It had been so long, and she wanted him too much to wait.

  She started coming as he pistoned faster. He repositioned both hands at her waist while he hammered inside her, no finesse, no easy taking, but raw sex that set her off again.

  Carnal need gripped them both as he sawed in and out of her, until finally Mitch swore and stilled, having ridden through her climax into his own.

  They remained standing, joined, while they caught their breath.

  “Jesus, you get to me,” he admitted and let out a sigh. “I came hard.”

  “Me too.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her neck, then her cheek. Mitch whispered, “You okay? I wasn’t too rough, was I? I was just so damn excited, and you smell so good.”

  She cupped his cheek, then he turned her face to kiss her lips.

  She kissed him back, and he started moving again.

  “Mitch?”

  “Not enough,” he said against her lips. “One more time.”

  To her shock, it didn’t take him long. But once he finished, he turned her around, dropped to his knees, and gave her the best oral sex she’d ever had. To her embarrassment, she cried out his name as she came.

  With a final kiss, Mitch rose to his feet. He removed the condom and disposed of it before he returned to her, his shorts back up around his waist while she’d used her time to get dressed.

  He smiled at her with satisfaction. “I know I should be embarrassed that we just had rushed sex twice. But I don’t care. You taste amazing.”

  He kissed her, and she tasted herself on his lips. “So do you.”

  He hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. “You’re so little, but you bring me to my knees. Literally, I might add.”

  She slapped his arm when he chuckled. “You’re a dirty man.”

  “Yeah? Well you make me that way. God, I wanted to do that days ago. I missed you, sweetheart. And not just because of the sex.”

  She sighed. “Me too.”

  “Becca, what do we do about this?”

  “I don’t know.” She stroked his arms, still in lust with his body. “You’re in shorts. Were you working out or just dressed athletically to play video game basketball?”

  He laughed. “I worked out, then Deacon interrupted with a need to chill out. I have a better game system, so I let him play mine.”

  “And joined him for a game or two.” She caressed the nape of his neck, noting the way his eyes half-closed. He liked that. A giant tiger purring just for her.

  “Maybe. Oh, that feels good.”

  “So did what we just shared.”

  “Hmm.” He leaned his head down on her shoulder, and she felt the urge to kiss him again.

  So she did. “I should go.”

  “Yeah. No. Wait.” He straightened. “Would you stick around for a few? Let me get rid of my brother. I wanted to talk to you.”

  “We just talked, didn’t we?” she teased, but Mitch looked serious.

  “Please.”

  “Sure.” She had a bad feeling he meant to change things. To break things off? To make a statement and claim her before the world? Wow, Nora’s right. I really can get dramatic, can’t I?

  She stifled a laugh as he left her to talk to Deacon.

  When he returned, she saw, to her dismay, he’d put on a sweatshirt, hiding his arms.

  “Well, let’s have the bad news first. Either you’re breaking up with me, or you want to marry me. Which is it?” she asked, using levity to defuse the tension she could sense between them.

  His face closed of e
xpression, and she had no idea what to think. Wait. Marriage or breaking up, she’d said. Was there an option three?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mitch stared at Becca, praying she couldn’t read his panic over how much he wanted to take option two. Marry her? Everything in him screamed “Hell, yes!” But what moron proposed to a woman he hadn’t known all that long and who came with a sarcastic fourteen-year-old in tow?

  Apparently, he did, because two nights ago he’d almost asked Deacon for their mother’s engagement ring, the one Deacon had given to Rhonda but managed to get back before she stole over half his shit.

  “Mitch? Just tell me.”

  He exhaled nerves. “I need your help.”

  “With?”

  My life sounded a bit overwhelming. “Some things I’m considering doing.”

  “Doing?”

  He sat behind his desk, and she sat on the edge of it, facing him, her arms crossed over her chest. She watched him with caution.

  “I’m making a mess of this. Bottom line, I’m going nowhere. I’m retired at thirty-five. I’m wealthy. I’m healthy. I’ve got nothing but time on my hands. But I have no idea what comes next.”

  She visibly relaxed. “Is that all?”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” Frustrated that not even Becca seemed to understand how difficult his life had become, he fumed, trying to think of how to explain himself.

  “I’m sorry.” She leaned forward to pat his shoulder. “That sounded insensitive, and I didn’t mean it that way. You’ve had a major life change. I understand that. Now you need to find a new direction.”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s no rush on figuring it out, is there?”

  “No.” He sighed. “I feel like a jackass for complaining. I have it made. I’m all good. And I feel worthless.”

  She stared down at him, and he felt two feet tall. He shouldn’t have asked for her advice. Now, instead of looking at him as if he were some sex god who’d rocked her world, he came across as a whiner needing bolstering.

  “Mitch, what do you like to do?”

  “Play football.”

  “Okay. What else?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do.” She moved to grab a chair, then pulled it close to him and sat. “Did you like coaching the boys?”