Can't Get Enough

by Molly McLain

  Tonight? Try the last six weeks. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yep.” I’m just not where I belong.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “Am I getting my hopes up or do you think this could work?” Shannon asked from the other side of the table in Cedar Street Brew.

  Tony drummed his fingers against his coffee cup and met her pleading gaze. Between them, Brianna noshed on a biscotti in a high chair and Ally, bless her nosy heart, kept a not-so-discreet watch over all of them from behind the counter.

  “Are you serious?” he asked, because what she was suggesting had never once crossed his mind and, frankly, it was genius.

  For a second, she looked offended, but then she pulled herself together and offered a small smile. “Of course, I’m serious. I want what’s best for our daughter.”

  He did, too. “When would you move?”

  “As soon as Wes can find work here in River Bend.”

  “And you?”

  “Well...” She glanced down at her coffee nervously. “That’s the part where I need you to keep an open mind.”

  “How so?” If she thought for a second she was gonna file for joint custody just so she could get child support...

  “Daycare is expensive, right? I mean, you must be paying out of the nose for it.” Sitting a little taller in her seat, she smiled eagerly. “What if I had Bri during the day? You’d save a boatload of cash and I’d get more time with her.”

  “So, you do want joint custody...” Son of a bitch.

  “No.” She shook her head adamantly. “Not yet. Not until I have a huge chunk of sobriety under my belt. I don’t want to sound selfish or like she’s not my number one priority, but...I’m not ready for that right now.”

  This was not the same Shannon from a few weeks ago. Hell, this wasn’t the same Shannon from more than a year ago. This woman was someone who would be good for Brianna, and God knew she needed a mother in her life. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever be able to braid hair or talk to her about tampons.

  “Let’s see if Wes can find that job, then.” He lifted his coffee and Shannon beamed.

  “Thank you. Oh, my God, thank you.” She bent down and whispered something to Bri that made her giggle, and his chest swelled.

  Things were falling into place for Brianna. Now if he could be so lucky...

  “There’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about.” Shannon reached into her purse and pulled out a card-sized envelope. He lifted an eyebrow. “I know it’s not my business, but I’m going to ask anyhow...” She slid a piece of paper from the envelope and pushed it across the table.

  He froze, eyes glued to an image of him, Bri, and Nicole on a hay bale. A picture he hadn’t seen before, because Luke had used Nicole’s phone and... “You got this from Laura?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know if she was trying to be a good friend or make trouble, but I don’t want any drama between us.”

  He took the picture and, holy shit, it was strange to see yourself from someone else’s perspective. The look on his face... The look on Nicole’s... They were like a friggin’ family. The family he wanted.

  Tucking the picture into the diaper bag, he cleared his throat. “I appreciate that.”

  Shannon smiled. “Thanks for meeting me today. You’ll think about my offer?”

  His life might suck, but he wouldn’t make Bri’s harder for her. He nodded. “Yeah. We’ll talk again soon.”

  ***

  “I give up.”

  “You can’t give up. Christmas is next week.”

  Rachel shook her head and tossed a fake branch over her shoulder. “I’m done. If you wanna fight with it, feel free. I, however, am going to drink more eggnog.”

  Nicole tipped her head to the side and took in their pathetic, lopsided mess. The branches were too long on one side and the lights didn’t work on the other. Hmm. Putting together a tree shouldn’t be this difficult. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not that bad.”

  “It’s ridiculous.”

  “Didn’t you put it together last year? Shouldn’t you be a pro at this?”

  “Ppfftt.” Rachel refilled her glass and tossed back it back like whiskey. “I opened the box last year. That was the extent of it.”

  Christmas without a tree? Not gonna happen, if Nicole had anything to do with it.

  “Speaking of boxes, you got a package today.” Rachel padded to the dining room and came back with a postal box. “You don’t know how close I came to tearing this bugger open.”

  “You should have. It’s probably just cookies from my mom.” Who’d called a couple days ago to say she’d run into Derek back home. He didn’t mention seeing her in River Bend, thank God, but he did tell her mother that he was taking a hiatus from dating to focus on his football career. Her mother laughed, because Derek without arm candy was unheard of, but maybe their talk outside of McCauley’s really had sunk in. She hoped he worked out his issues before he got serious about someone else.

  “I don’t think it’s cookies.” Rachel grinned. “Pretty sure your mom doesn’t live in Nebraska or have manly handwriting either.”

  Nebraska? She glanced down at the package in Rachel’s hands. “Are you serious?”

  Her friend nodded. “Yep. Return address is—”

  “Ohmygodgiveittome!” She snatched it away and Rachel snorted.

  “And here I thought you were ‘over’ the country bumpkin,” she said sarcastically. “Come on, open it.”

  What if whatever was inside wasn’t what she thought? Not that she thought it was anything really, but what if it was just a pair of panties she’d left at his house or maybe something he found in Gran’s house that he thought she’d want? He hadn’t reached out to her at all since he’d sent the gloomy photo, but then neither had she.

  “I think I need to do it alone,” she said quietly. Because there was a good chance that, no matter what ended up being in the box, she was going to fall apart.

  Rachel became suddenly serious. “I think you’re right.”

  “How do you think he got my address? I didn’t tell him...” Had she given it to Ally? She didn’t think so...

  “Mystery of the universe.” Rachel winked over her shoulder as she headed to the door. “I’ll be at Blake’s.”

  “You don’t have to go, Rach. I can take it to my room.”

  Her friend shook her head and smiled sadly. “I’m going to miss you, you know.”

  “I’m not going—”

  “Yeah, you are.” And then she closed the door behind her.

  Nicole dropped onto the couch with the package in her shaky hands. Her heart raced a mile a minute, but, dammit, she couldn’t stop smiling.

  Was she going somewhere? Was what was in this box going to be the final push over the line she’d been dancing so close to for weeks?

  She tore into the package and through the bubble wrap and...oh, dear God.

  She slid to the floor, one hand on her mouth and the other wrapped around the edge of a hand-painted picture frame.

  When Tony had something to say, he drove home his point like no one else she knew.

  Your Family, the frame read, and a silent river of tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “My family,” she whispered. “My perfect little family.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “Goodnight, princess. I can’t wait to see what Santa brings you tomorrow morning.”

  Tony smiled from the bedroom door as his mother tucked Brianna into bed.

  “What time is Shannon coming by for her?” she whispered as they made their way back to the living room. Jimbo sat on the couch with a mug of cider in his hand, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace, Jingle Bells playing softly on the stereo.

  “Not until three,” Tony answered. Dread clutched in his gut at the thought of having to say goodbye to Brianna on Christmas Day already. Shannon hadn’t asked to have her sooner, though, so he knew he should be gratefu
l instead of anxious.

  “Are you sure you’re okay with us coming back in the morning?” Grace squeezed his hand. “We can wait until lunch, if you’d like more alone time with Bri.”

  He shook his head. “Nah, morning is fine.” The more company he had and the busier he stayed, the less time he’d spend wondering how Nicole was spending her holiday.

  “Jimbo makes a mean Christmas frittata, so we’ll bring the fixings for that. You put on the coffee.” His mother smiled up at him and he grinned too, because it was hard to believe that two months ago he’d worried she might not be here to share Brianna’s first Christmas.

  “Well, Gracie Lou, we should get going. It’s starting to snow.” Jimbo stood and stretched. “Thanks for having us over tonight, son.”

  Tony nodded and offered his hand. “You know, we could’ve done this last year. If you two would’ve just told me...”

  Grace bit her lips together, a sheepish smile fighting its way out. “I’m sorry, honey. I just wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

  “Don’t think for second I like the idea of you shacking up with this geezer.” He shot Jimbo a taunting glare. “But if it keeps you here in River Bend, I’ll pick my battles.”

  Jimbo cackled. “I’ll show you ‘old geezer’. Come here, Gracie, give me a kiss.”

  His mother swatted her boyfriend in the belly, but not without color in her cheeks. “You two are going to be the death of me, you know that?”

  Jimbo deadpanned. Tony deadpanned.

  Grace snorted. “Jesus, I’m kidding. Can’t make a joke around here, or what?”

  “Not even a little funny, Mom.”

  She rolled her eyes and tugged Jimbo toward the door. “We’ll see you in the morning, honey. Don’t let Bri open all her presents without us.”

  “I won’t,” he assured her as they dressed and stepped outside. He kissed her cheek and waved as Jimbo helped her into his truck and backed out of the driveway.

  Sighing, he shut the door and strode into the kitchen to clean up the cookies and snacks his mother had brought over. There was a stinky ass dishrag by the sink, too, so he took it to the laundry room and threw in a quick load of whites.

  Doing laundry on Christmas Eve. You rock, dude.

  He snorted and dropped the lid on the washer, when his cell chirped in the living room.

  Of course, his screwed up head went to her and he chewed himself a good one on the walk back down the hall.

  She must’ve gotten his package by now, and obviously it didn’t have the impact he’d hoped for. If it had, she would’ve called. Or maybe put a Christmas card in the mail. Something.

  He snatched up the phone, bitterness taking over his once-good mood, and thumbed to the text.

  Jesus Christ. Another friggin’ picture. No tears in this one, though, just Nicole with a big smile on her face and, somehow, that sliced through his heart a lot more effectively than the one of her crying.

  She was trying to murder him, he was convinced of it. What other reason would she have to send him a picture of her grinning from ear to ear on Christmas Eve while he sat at home alone, missing her? She’d been gone from his life twice as long as she’d been in it, dammit. This shouldn’t hurt so fucking much.

  He couldn’t look away, though. Something about the sparkle in her eyes and snow glistening in the flash of the camera wouldn’t let him. It was dark all around her and—

  Ding. He glared at his phone.

  Do you have a Christmas tree?

  Yeah, I’ve got a tree. Who doesn’t have a tree? he typed, sending it off with a grumble.

  Good.

  Knock, knock.

  He froze. Well, every other part of him except his heart, which rat-a-tatted in his chest like the Little Drummer Boy.

  No fucking way.

  He flew to the door, tripping over his boots and knocking Brianna’s snowsuit off the hook in the hall.

  Screw it. He left it laying on the floor in favor of jerking open the door in a breathless rush.

  Her grin lit up the night better the lights dangling from his roof. “You,” she said softly.

  “You,” he said back.

  She lifted something. An ornament. Three little penguins. Our 1st Christmas. “I hear you have a tree.”

  He nodded, unable to form a complete thought, let alone a sentence or a word.

  “I don’t have a tree.”

  “No?”

  “Nuh-uh.” She shook her head and her braid hooked over her shoulder. “I was wondering if maybe you had room...”

  “I don’t know.” He cleared his throat, sucked in a careful breath and locked his eyes on hers, so hopeful and so bright. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “I’d like to.” She blinked at him, a small smile playing on her trembling lips. “But I understand that a strange woman showing up on your doorstep is probably intimidating. You don’t know me and—”

  He hauled her against his chest, the snow on her coat soaking through his shirt. “I know you.”

  “Oh...” She laughed softly, her eyes shifting to his mouth. “I might need convincing. Maybe you should kiss me.”

  He growled and squeezed her tighter. “Oh, I’ll kiss you, babe. And then I’ll take you inside and I’ll strip you bare and I will show you, over and over again, how damn well I know you. And do I have room? I’ve got a lifetime worth of room. All yours if you want it.”

  Yes, please. “Merry Christmas to me,” she whispered, the snow melting off her heated cheeks.

  “Merry Christmas indeed.” He crushed his mouth to hers and she was lost, completely taken by the promise of his words and the hunger in his touch. “I love you, Nicole.”

  “I love you, too. And Brianna. So, so much.”

  “Then stay. Let’s do this thing together.” He smiled against her lips. “But be warned: if you come inside, I won’t let you leave again. I’ll fight for you, whether you want me to or not. You know why?”

  “Because I don’t complain about washing your dirty underwear and stinking socks?”

  He laughed and rubbed his nose against hers. “Because we’re better as a team than we are apart. And you have an ass I can’t seem to get enough of.”

  “Ugh, you!” She slugged him in the shoulder, and he swept her up into his arms and carried her through the door.

  “Welcome home, city girl.”

  The End

  Thank you so much for reading Can’t Get Enough! If you enjoyed Tony & Nicole’s love story, check out the other River Bend books:

  Can’t Shake You (River Bend, #1) – Josh and Carissa

  Can’t Hold Back (River Bend, #1.5) – Dan and Maddie

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  Note from the Author

  Thank you so much for reading Can’t Get Enough! I adored Tony Dunn in Can’t Shake You and I couldn’t wait to give him his own love story. Nicole was such a perfect heroine for him—and for Brianna—and I’m glad I could give them their happily ever after. Oh! I bet you’re wondering why there wasn’t a ring. Wellll, all I’m going to say about that is...keeping reading the River Bend books. *wink*

  Obviously, Ally and Mark have some issues to work out too. Dollars to donuts, their book will be the next in the series and let me tell you—it’s gonna be a hot one. The night that Mark stormed out of the bar and Ally ran off in the other direction? *whispers* That’s the first night in their book, and there may not be a lot of talking going on.

  If you’re not already a subscriber to my mailing list, you can join by clicking here. You can also become a fan of my Facebook author page here, and if you really love River Bend, you can become
one of Molly’s Misfits on Facebook, too. Ramona always makes sure there’s plenty of eye candy!

  Lastly, reviews help other readers pick up new books, so if you enjoyed Can’t Get Enough, please share your thoughts on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!

  Until the next happily ever after...

  ~Molly

  Acknowledgments

  As always, the biggest thanks goes out to my husband and kids. Your patience and understanding, especially when I’m in grumpy author mode, means the world to me. I love you, I love you, I love you...

  This book was a labor of love and without the support of my fellow authors, I don’t know what the outcome would have been. Zoe York, you do indeed rock, my friend. I can’t say enough about how much I appreciate you without getting a little (okay, a lot) emotional. Gia Alden, you’re an amazing cheerleader and I can’t wait to take over pom pom duty for you. Anne Marsh, thank you for the insight and the M&Ms. And, Suzan Butler, thanks for the “it’s not as bad as you think it is”. MWAH to you all...

  Molly’s Misfits...you guys are a great group of cheerleaders, too. Thank you so much for continuing to support me and my books and helping out where you can. I appreciate it more than I can ever say. *hugs*

  Readers and fans, you are the glue for all of this. Thank you for buying my books and for making me want to keep writing books we both love. I think I’ll keep doing this for a while. Also, thank you for answering my silly questions on Facebook. I usually do ask them for a reason—unless it’s about good looking guys, in which case it’s probably just procrastination.

  About the Author

  Molly McLain has lived in northern Wisconsin all of her life. She’s a proud fan of the Green Bay Packers, fountain soda (though she’s trying to kick it), angsty rock ballads, and jellybeans. She also loves camping and binging on reality TV, but her favorite vice of all is road tripping with the radio cranked. Someday, she hopes to travel the country with her husband and her laptop, because nothing gets the plot bunnies hopping like the wind blowing through her hair.