Five Weeks In December

by Blue Kincaid

  She scooped her sister out of the high chair and sat down with Olive in her lap, devouring her sticky little face with kisses that made the baby giggle and flail. “Look how big you are, Olive, oh my word!”

  “Well, I should hope so, the child does nothing but eat.” Her momma turned to wash her hands once she finished tucking the last massive biscuit into the pan.

  Holly North hadn’t exactly planned on another child so late in life. But she’d had December at just sixteen, and Harley ten years later, so when she’d remarried, she’d been only forty-one. A year into her new marriage, she and Rick got a big surprise and now here Olive was, fat cheeked and gorgeous and no one could imagine life without her.

  God, December missed home sometimes. Life seemed so much less complicated here. Her mother must have been thinking the same thing because she sat down and tugged December in for a kiss on the cheek before giving her the concerned mother look.

  “You look stressed, honey. We missed you for Christmas.”

  Neither December nor Harry had celebrated. In fact, the night at the club had been Christmas Eve, so maybe Harry had celebrated. December didn’t know, she’d been too busy sulking in the hotel room.

  “I know. But I’m here now, aren’t I? And I’m staying for at least a week.”

  “I know. It’s just not the same without you. And you’ve brought a…friend?”

  December didn’t know how to answer that obvious question. She supposed Harry was a friend, in some ways. In some ways so much more. In others so much less. He’d sworn not to mention her job and say they’d met through mutual friends. Which was true. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of what she did, but her mother would not be able to understand the difference between what she did and some kind of sex work. Which December also didn’t have a problem with in most cases, but that was neither here nor there. She wasn’t ready – didn’t know if she’d ever be ready – for her family to know what she really did for a living.

  “He’s a little more than a friend.”

  Harry chose that moment to step into the kitchen through the backdoor, and December almost laughed at how her mom’s eyes lit up. “I can see why,” she said breathlessly. Then cleared her throat and gave Harry her best southern charm smile. “You must be Harry! I’m Holly, December’s mother.”

  December ignored Harry in favor of talking nonsense to Olive, who jabbered back eagerly. Finally, she looked up and lifted one brow at him. “Done measuring cocks?”

  “December!” her mom gasped, reaching out to swat the back of her head as though she was ten again and plucked Olive from her arms. “Watch your language, young lady.”

  Harry bit back a snicker and sat down next to her at the table. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. North.”

  “Actually, it’s Mrs. West now.” She gave Harry a stern look. “No jokes about switching cardinal directions, I’ve heard them all.”

  Harry chuckled. “None, I promise.” He turned his focus on little Olive, who stared at him from the safety of her mother’s arms. Harry reached out and took her little hand in his fingers, smiling gently. “Hello, Olive.”

  Half a second later, Olive burst into giggles and held her arms out demandingly. December’s mom started to protest, saying he didn’t have to indulge her, but Harry just reached out and took Olive, settling her on his strong thigh where, like any woman would, Olive leaned back against him and beamed like a cat who drank all the cream.

  “Little hussy.” December leaned down to blow a raspberry on the baby’s cheek. She had to admit, Harry holding a baby was enough to make her ovaries want to explode from the cavewoman ‘prime mate material’ hormone overload.

  “So Harry, where are you staying?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure. December booked me a hotel room, I don’t know which hotel.”

  Her stomach sank at the look her mother gave her. Oh no. She knew what was coming.

  “Well, that’s nonsense. We have plenty of room here and December is staying in her old room. You can have Harley’s down the hall. He got his first apartment this past summer and refuses to spend the night at home anymore. Not even for the holidays.”

  “It’s not really the holidays anymore, mom,” December pointed out, getting up to go peek under the lid of the cast iron pan. Fried chicken, god bless her mother. She was going to gain twenty pounds in the next week.

  “Still. Good thing I have Olive, or I swear I would end up with no children home for the season.”

  Well, Harley had warned her the guilt trip was coming. December sighed. Even Harry looked a bit guilty, because only they knew she’d spent the last month with him. “I can’t promise to come home every year, Mom. I have a life.”

  Her mom tsked softly, casting her a sideways look as she turned to poke at the chicken. “Yes, out there in California with that wild girl roommate of yours. I like her, but please don’t end up like her – all alone and running wild all over the world like that. Isn’t she lonely?”

  “Sheridan? No, I don’t think so. If she ever was, I’m sure it’d take her half a second to find a dozen men begging to make an honest woman of her.” December had to laugh, though, at the idea of Sheridan ever settling down. More likely the world would come to a screeching halt first.

  Her mom apparently decided that was enough talk about wild California girls and returned the subject to Harry. “So it’s settled, Harry. You’ll stay here with us while you’re in town. Why don’t you show him the room, December, let him bring his bags up and get settled?”

  That was the last thing she wanted to do. December had intended that he stay at the hotel and be bored and hate it here and find the whole experience exhausting and not worth repeating, at which point he’d go back to DC and December wouldn’t have to break his heart when she went back home.

  But Harry was all smiles and apparently eager to bunk down in her baby brother’s old bedroom and god…this plan was not working the way it should have. She didn’t even know why she was surprised.

  “Yes, ma’am.” She pinned Harry with a narrow-eyed look, but damn him, he kept smiling. Like he thought her ire was cute. Made her want to kick his shins. And maybe kiss him a lot.

  Ugh. She was so screwed.

  * * * * *

  “Who else did you bring here?” Harry asked. He probably shouldn’t, but he had only so much time and if he was going to prove to December he wasn’t only in love with her submissive side, he needed to know what kind of broken she might be inside. And he wanted to help her. She’d helped him, shown him that just because one woman had been everything wrong for him didn’t mean he couldn’t find someone else who was everything right. More than anything, he wanted to be that for December as well.

  She cast him a dark look over her shoulder and went back to making up the bed with the fresh sheets she’d grabbed from a hall closet.

  He sighed. “Sheridan said your heart is here. I don’t think she meant ‘home is where the heart is’, December. Did someone hurt you here?” Rage at that person swelled inside him. Who would ever hurt her?

  The sound she made was impatient. “I lived here my whole life until I was twenty, Harry. Of course I’ve been hurt here. I went through my teenage years here, for god’s sake.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He came around the bed and caught her hand. “Hey, stop. You agreed to me coming here, why are you acting as if I’m not welcome?”

  She glared at him for a few seconds more, then the anger seemed to drain out of her and her tense shoulders sagged. “Shit.” She sat down on the edge of the half-made bed. She pulled her hand free and raked her hair back into a loose knot at the back of her head. He liked when she’d do that, the way her hair came loose in strands and framed her face, clung to her neck.

  He sat next to her, waiting. A few weeks ago, he’d have never guessed she had any sort of bad love affair baggage. She seemed so together. But then, he supposed to people who didn’t know him, he’d seemed the same way. Now that he knew her more, he c
ould see the chinks, the guards she held up and could see her hiding behind them.

  He wanted in.

  “Sheridan shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not her place. And it’s not your place to ask.”

  Harry nodded. “You’re right. On both counts. But I am asking, because I think maybe no one has and someone should.” He waited, and when she didn’t say anything, decided he should probably start, then. “A boyfriend?”

  She shook her head.

  “A client?”

  She hesitated, then another shake of her head.

  Harry’s brows knit, stomach sinking. “A fiancé, then.” Suddenly he could see why she’d been so invested in helping him move past his own ex-fiancée issues.

  “Third try’s the charm.” Then sighed and glanced at him. “It’s stupid. I was very young. Very naïve. I believed everything everyone told me. Including him when he said he didn’t think I was a whore.”

  Harry winced. Shit. He could only hear his own voice, telling Jeremy she sounded like a whore. All but calling her one to her face that first night. God, why had she even stayed? He had to believe it was because she felt it, too, this thing between them. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ve been fine for a very long time, trust me. I guess there’s no harm in you knowing. Maybe you’ll finally understand why this can’t happen between us.”

  Harry sincerely doubted whatever she had to say would change anything about his feelings for her, but he didn’t stop her. This was something he needed to know – how else could he overcome it if he didn’t know what she thought was their biggest obstacle.

  She shrugged, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “Trent was a client. Until he was more. God, it was so dumb of me. I’d just begun to work as a professional submissive. I was so naïve and he was so handsome and worldly and he swore he’d never be jealous and wouldn’t want me to stop working, that he was different and we could make it work.”

  Harry let out a breath. He’d been right. Trent was the thing weighing her down. Part of him wanted the whole story, while the other part didn’t want to know details about how her love for another man had potentially ruined the chance for his love.

  She kept going, though. “And it’s just a bit of a shock when you come home to introduce your family and… Your husband-to-be says he wants to talk about your future and instead of discussing wedding rings, he wants to discuss a 70/30 split of the ‘escorting money’.” December glanced over at him. “He thought I was lying about not sleeping with clients and hiding the money from him.” As if he needed the extra clarification.

  Harry couldn’t even speak. The guy had been in a position to keep this woman for the rest of his life and instead had decided he’d rather be her pimp? “Does he happen to live around here, because I’d love to ring in the New Year by killing him.” He was only half-joking.

  December laughed a little, though, and nudged him with her shoulder. “Shut up. You’re not the killing type.”

  “No. Not the pimping type, either. December, you know I don’t think that about you, right?” He hoped so, Jesus.

  Thankfully, she nodded. “I do. That doesn’t change anything.”

  “Why not? I’m not that guy. I don’t want to own you, much less sell you, for god’s sake. I just want to love you and be with you.”

  “And you want to be my Master. I can’t have one of those, Harry. I can’t belong to you and give myself, even if it’s not sexual, to others.” She shook her head, pushing to her feet. “It’d never work. And I wouldn’t ask you to be okay with it. That’s it. End of discussion.”

  “December…”

  But she didn’t stay to let him challenge that assumption. Harry frowned at the door as it shut behind her. End of discussion? Not if he had anything to say about it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  This was all Sheridan’s fault.

  Okay, maybe not all her fault.

  December sighed and gently nudged the baby swing, though Olive had fallen asleep a while ago. She could hear Harry in the family room with Harley, playing some video game really loudly and with lots of trash-talking – at least on Harley’s part. So now the man played video games, too? Why couldn’t he be boring and uninteresting? He had to be gorgeous and funny and smart and her family liked him on top of it all?

  “Learn it early, little darlin’¸” she murmured to the sleeping Olive. “Men are trouble.” She sighed. “Well…they’re kind of wonderful, too. This one especially. Not that I’m happy about that, mind, but…he’s kind of wonderful, yeah.”

  “Why’s he in there killing zombies with your brother, then, and not spending time with you?”

  December glanced up as her step-father came over to sit beside her on the window seat. “Because he thinks I’m mad at him.”

  “Is he right?” Rick asked, reaching out to brush a hand over Olive’s soft red hair.

  December squirmed a little. “Not really. No.”

  “More mad at yourself, if I guessed.”

  “How do you read people so well?” she asked with a soft laugh, so as not to wake Olive.

  “Not people. Just people I love.” He patted her knee. “Come on, talk to me. You brought him home, which by itself makes him a part of a very short list.” Rick frowned, glancing in the direction of Harry and Harley’s voices. “Is he like that last guy, is that it? Cause my shotgun’s still loaded out back…”

  December couldn’t help but giggle. “Rick, you couldn’t shoot the broad side of the barn. And no, he’s not…well, I don’t think he’s like the other one, no.” Of course Harry wasn’t like Trent. He never could be. It wasn’t that Trent had hidden who he was, so much as she’d completely missed it because she’d been young and stupid and ‘in love’.

  “Good. I like this guy, you know.”

  “You and mom and Harley, too. You guys were supposed to be a nightmare and run him off for me.”

  Rick stood up, bending to give both her and Olive kisses on the top of their heads. “Well, maybe you want to think about how come you’re so keen to run him off.”

  Rick was right. What’s worse, she suspected Sheridan and Harry were, too.

  Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad to give him a chance. Just one. The little perpetual romantic inside her did a happy dance, seeming sure all Harry needed was one chance. December wasn’t quite so convinced.

  * * * * *

  “Want to go for a walk?”

  Harry glanced up, immediately setting aside the game controller. “Yes.”

  She couldn’t help the rush of pleasure that warmed her cheeks. Harry was so good at making her feel as though she was the only thing that mattered. His sole focus. Whether it was in the playroom spanking her ass red, or sitting across the room with her on display while he worked or now, with a simple shift of complete attention to her.

  He pushed to his feet off the floor and followed her out to the front hall closet to get their coats and scarves and such. “Where are we walking to?” he asked, buttoning up his black wool coat before reaching out to brush her hands away and zip up her own pink, fur lined parka.

  “Nowhere, really. Down the drive.” It was basically a road, leading about a mile down to the main access road running along the highway through town.

  Harry didn’t question it. She suspected she could have asked him if he wanted to go swimming he’d have said yes despite the twenty-five degree temperatures outside. They finished bundling and December grabbed the leash off the hook, smiling when her mom’s dog, Jaxon, came scrambling at the distinctive jingle. Fat little mutt.

  “Momma, we’re taking Jaxon for a walk!” she called.

  Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen. “All right, but don’t be gone too long. It’s cold out and it’ll be getting dark soon.”

  December rolled her eyes. Sometimes she swore her mom thought she was still twelve. “We know.” She hooked the leash to the little dog’s collar and glanced up at Harry. “Ready?”

&
nbsp; He opened the door then followed her and Jaxon out onto the porch. He glanced up at the overcast sky. “Might snow, you think?”

  “Maybe. Probably not till later tonight, though. Come on.” She hopped down the front steps, letting out a long breath and turning in a slow circle, arms outstretched. “Smell that?”

  Harry took a deep breath and tilted his head curiously as they strolled down the driveway. “No?”

  She shrugged. “It’s just so clean. LA is full of smog and DC is like any other city – it smells like one. I love how it smells here. Clean and fresh, like grass and trees and the crisp of potential snow in the air.”

  Harry took another breath, nodding. “It is nice.” He reached for her free hand and she let him have it. She liked the way it felt, warm and so much larger than her own. She didn’t even need a glove on that hand, his worked so well to keep hers warm. She bet if she turned and stepped up against him and let him hold her, she could be buck naked and still toasty as anything.

  They walked like that – mostly silent – for a while. She loved this time of year, when it was cold and quiet and the whole countryside was still. Nothing was ever still in a city and while she loved LA, she loved it here, too.

  “You said I could help you. How?”

  His question was so out of the blue, for a moment December didn’t even understand what he’d said. Then she remembered, that first night in his study when she’d coyly told him maybe they could help each other. He’d asked then, too, what he might be able to help her with. She hadn’t answered.

  She stopped walking for a minute, letting Jaxon sniff around at the tree line along the drive. “I try to fix people, Sheridan says. Men. I choose broken men and try to fix them. And then I let them go and I find someone else to fix.”

  Harry frowned. “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean…maybe I do. Maybe because while I love fulfilling a specific purpose in people’s lives…maybe I’m still trying to prove Trent wrong. To prove to myself that there’s more to me than a…I think the term he used was ‘hot piece of ass’.” She glanced sideways at Harry. “It’s why I said yes to coming to DC to be with you.”