Yeah, things with me might not have been as exciting, but she never had to question my fidelity. I was prepared to be there for her in good times and in bad, and I was, right to the end. Even when I suspected that she might have been pulling away from me, I stuck by her. I knew she was going through a lot. I just never imagined how much she’d really been keeping from me.
The finer things in life always seduced Cassidy. And it’s not like I didn’t know it. Hell, the cost of her engagement ring was proof enough of that. I knew I’d never be able to give her everything she wanted, but I thought I was giving her the most important things. A house. A family. A future.
But apparently, it wasn’t enough. The minute my back was turned, she went looking elsewhere. Conrad didn’t have to twist her arm to get her to meet with him. She went willingly. I don’t care how naïve she might have been. She had to have known what a man like him would want from her. I was never with anyone besides her while she was alive, and it kills me that she didn’t remain faithful to me. Here I thought she didn’t like having sex, but maybe she just didn’t like having sex with me.
I kick a fallen branch and watch it skirt across the snow. I have to stop thinking about this. I promised Ivy that I would have myself pulled together by the time I got back. And I do feel saner, calmer, but the wound is still going to sting for a while. I’m just going to have to be careful not to let thoughts of Cassidy enter my head whenever I’m around Ivy. I have to separate the two.
But it’s been hard, even since before Tim’s revelation. Just seeing Ivy’s body changing has brought back so many memories. Up until then, the two of them had been blending together in my mind. They couldn’t be more different, but the expectations surrounding a problem pregnancy are too similar to ignore. How they can’t hide that look of fear in their eyes, how they cry in their sleep and don’t even know it, how they mask their trepidation in every smile—it’s all the same. I’ve been there before, and I’m going through it again.
But I have to remember that this time I have a woman I can trust at my side. We’re in this together, all the way, a hundred percent. I’m not in it alone. I have no doubts about her feelings for me. The genuineness of her love burns within her. It’s what’s driving her to do this. It’s what’s keeping her going. It’s why she’s determined to take such a monumental risk, because she’s doing it for me.
I bite the inside of my cheek. Even though my tracks are the only ones in the snow, I’m still not good with showing my emotions—even in private. Yeah, I could get into a fistfight any day of the week, but that’s just blowing off steam. This stuff is deep. It’s what life’s all about. I’m not comfortable with letting myself go there, especially after Cassidy, but Ivy makes me want to try. To lower my guard and give it another go—now more than ever.
I duck under a tree limb that’s drooping under the weight of the snow, my feet starting to go numb in my boots. And I blink a couple of times to make sure that I’m not seeing things. The cabin should be straight ahead, but where are all of those lights coming from?
Anxiously, I pick up my pace, and adjust the pack on my back. The cabin is hidden from view as I climb the knoll leading to the backyard. All I saw was colored lights. Oh God, please don’t let it be an ambulance taking Ivy away. I was such an idiot for doing this. I should never have left her.
The snow sinks above my knees, causing me to scratch and claw my way to the top, as I slip, trying to gain solid ground. I’m working up a sweat with all of these layers on, and I curse the bulkiness of my outerwear for making me move so slowly. Panting, I make it to the rise and look over.
It’s not an ambulance at all.
It’s Christmas lights.
The outside of the cabin is adorned with row upon row of sparkly, twinkly Christmas lights.
For a moment, I just stand there and take it all in. It looks amazing, but I’m still going to kill her. Ivy wasn’t supposed to get out of bed, never mind decorate the entire house. Where did she even get all of these lights?
I sling the strap of Tim’s rifle over my shoulder and hurry across the blanketed field. I can’t wait to see her. It’s not even been a week, but it seems like forever. Any day without seeing Ivy feels too long.
She must have seen me coming because the front door flies open before I can even climb the steps. She’s been patiently awaiting my return, not knowing when I’d be back. What other woman on earth would put up with me the way she does? She accepts me, flaws and all, but I have to strive to be better for her. I can’t keep on giving in to these dark moods of mine. She deserves so much more than that.
She looks happy and glowing as I take the steps two at a time, not stopping until my gloved hands are around her waist and she’s pushing back my hood to give me a kiss. The whiskers on my beard must be tickling her as she laughs against my mouth.
She gasps when her warm nose brushes against mine. “Eric, you’re frozen solid! C’mon. Let’s get you warmed up by the fire.”
I kick the door closed with the back of my foot and obediently follow her as she guides me in front of the roaring hearth. I don’t know how, but she even found time to look extra pretty for me as I watch the curls at the back of her head bounce along with every step. The red sweater she has on is new, but it’s not a maternity top. It’s hugging her curves in all the right places. I want to see more of that plunging v-neckline. If only she’d turn around.
But for a second, I’m caught up just gazing around. The inside of the cabin looks just as wonderful as the outside. She has a bough of fresh holly festooned with candles draped across the mantle. There are a series of light-up snow globes lined up on the coffee table, which I recognize from the Riverside Gardens’ inventory. But what really catches my attention is the tree in the corner. It’s one of my favorites from the lot, and it’s nearly touching the ceiling. Ivy must have spent hours stringing the popcorn garland and making the Popsicle-stick ornaments. But the one that catches my eye is the Styrofoam ball with the message “Baby’s First Christmas” glued on in different shades of pink and blue glitter.
“Do you like it?” she whispers, turning around with a hopeful smile on her face.
I nod, overwhelmed by the beauty that’s surrounding me.
“Good.” Her smile widens, dazzling me. “I think your dad wanted to bury the hatchet. He came over and helped set everything up, and since it’s our first Saturday date night, I wanted it to be extra special.”
“But how did you know that I was coming home tonight?” I ask as she starts pulling off my gloves and unzippering my coat.
“I had a feeling,” she says, her eyes smoldering up at me. “Why don’t you get rid of that gun so we can get more comfortable?”
I flush. I even forgot I still had it on. I’ll have to give it back to Ben tomorrow. I don’t like having it in the house since I’ve always been a little leery of firearms. I check the safety and store it in the tiny alcove off the doorway, doffing my wet boots and overalls in the process.
Ivy’s watching me expectantly as I remove one article of clothing after another until I’m just in my boxers and thermal undershirt. She takes a deep breath, one hand resting behind her back, the other playing with the chain around her neck. The two instances give me reason to pause.
“Did your fingers swell up? Is that why your ring’s not on your finger?” I question, returning to her side to knead my knuckles into her lower back.
She sighs in contentment, holding on to my arm. She doesn’t even need to ask. I know when she holds her back like that that it’s hurting her. She probably overexerted herself doing all of this for me when she should have been resting.
“Don’t be mad,” she says, bending her head back and tickling my lips with her hair. “As soon as I get my body back, it’ll be on my finger where it belongs. But for now, it’ll rest closer to my heart.”
“I like the sound of that,” I murmur, nuzzling her neck right below her ear. “And rest assured, your body the way it is now has me mighty
turned on.”
She sashays around me, granting me a full view of her heavenly cleavage. “Then why don’t we head on over to the mistletoe and you can show me just how much you missed me.”
I slide my hands down her backside and lift her up. Her legs automatically wrap around my waist as I squeeze her bottom, spreading my fingers wide. Her hands are around my neck, pulling me close as I walk over to the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, where the mistletoe is hung. Her breasts are riding up and down against my chest as her breathing accelerates.
“Your arms aren’t even trembling from holding me like this,” she says in admiration. “And I feel like a beached whale.”
“You’ll always be as light as a feather to me,” I whisper, letting my thumbs dip into the belt loops of her jeans. “Now lean back. I want to enjoy this.”
She cocks an eyebrow questioningly but does what I request, tipping back her head and allowing the sweater to ride even lower on her chest. I rest the weight of her back against one arm as she grips me tighter with her legs. I run a hand down her luscious curves, feeling every inch of her through the soft cashmere. She’s not wearing a bra, and I greedily slide my fingers inside, flicking one nipple and then the other as her knees dig into my hips. She’s leaning all the way back, the ends of her hair touching the floor as she moves against me.
And that’s when I know I need to pull back. Having her rub herself over my aching dick feels incredible, but we can’t go any further than that. I tilt her back up, my hand traveling across her bare back under her sweater, glorying in the smoothness of her skin. I lower my head and glide my tongue between the dip in her breasts, tasting her, watching as the path of my beard leaves her flushed, that beautiful pink color filling the delicate area I love to play with. She’s ultrasensitive to every sensation there. I should know. I’ve brought her to orgasm so many times without even touching her below the waist. I better be careful.
But she has other plans. She yanks my head back by my hair, catching me off guard when her lips find mine. I stagger backward before crashing against the wall, and she slides herself off me, pinning my body with hers. Her hands are at the waistband of my boxers before they push up through the tight confines of my shirt. Her fingers dance against the defined lines of my chest, tracing her way across every contour, making me flinch. My hips buck involuntarily against her, causing her to break our kiss.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, knocking my head against the wall, gasping for air.
“Don’t be,” she shushes, pressing a finger to her swollen lips as she saucily sways her hips and shimmies to the ground.
“What are you doing?” I ask, blinking while trying to catch my breath.
“Taking care of my man,” she moans, ripping my boxers off with one frantic tug.
The cold air startles me, causing my knees to come together, but it’s only when I feel the warmth of her mouth on me that I begin to relax. She takes me in, then out, swirling her tongue along my length until I exit her lips with a pop. I groan, shoving my hips against the wall and closing my eyes as her head bobs below me, her curls swaying.
“Fuck,” I cry, slamming the back of my fist against the doorframe as my hips start to move with the rhythm she’s created.
Her assault on me is relentless as she takes me deep into her throat, and I pound myself into her mouth, her teeth grazing me as I slide in and out. She slows me down, giving extra attention to my tip as she licks it back and forth, over and around. She fingers my balls, tugging at them, getting me to spread my legs far apart for her as she nestles between them on her knees, her hands gripping my inner thighs.
She’s never done it quite like this before. And it’s fucking incredible. It’s the best head she’s ever given me. I should go away more often. A smile of satisfaction spreads across my face as she groans, taking me deep again. Her fingernails dig into my backside, and I lose it.
My knees weaken as she lets go of me, and I slide to the floor to meet her, pulling her onto my lap before I rest her head against my chest, my boxers hanging around my ankles, her behind pressed up against my cock. We won’t be able to sit like this for long, but I’ll take whatever I can get.
I tangle my hands in her hair and kiss her desirously, tasting myself on her lips. Her tongue is a determined fighter, sparring with me like she can go for days. She starts to bend her leg and slide it around my waist, but I stop her because my dick is already twitching to life. If I have her spread open on top of me now, I’m a goner.
“I’m so horny for you right now,” she pants, resting her cheek against my lips.
“I know, baby,” I soothe her, rubbing her back. “It won’t be much longer. Then I’ll finally be able to show my appreciation for everything you’ve done for me.” I hold her eyes with mine. “And I can’t fuckin’ wait,” I exclaim, a devilish smile lighting up my face.
“Well, I know that’s all I want from Santa this year,” she responds, clasping my bent knee in her hand. “Sex, sex and more sex. You owe me about three dozen or so orgasms, mister. And be prepared, because I’m gonna want them all in one night.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I salute her. “Even if I have to walk bowlegged for the rest of my life. Your wish is my command. Because that was a pretty awesome date night.”
“You think so?” she asks, her eyes shining.
“I know so,” I reply, kissing her gently.
And little does she know I have something even better in mind for her Christmas present.
Chapter Twenty
Lauren
My phone buzzes next to my head, and I feel like throwing it against the wall.
If Lenny has another issue with the Sunday Gazette on that offset printing machine of his, I’m going to wring his neck. This is our biggest circulation day of the week, and the paper is jam-packed with ads for the holiday shopping season. If subscribers don’t get it on their doorsteps before the sun goes up, there’s going to be hell to pay. I don’t know why I ever gave this moron a second chance. His equipment is always breaking down because he’s too cheap to repair it. Yeah, his rates are reasonable, but is it worth the aggravation he puts me through? I was hoping to sleep in today. Looks like that’s not happening.
“What?” I growl into the phone, not even bothering to look at the caller ID.
“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just address me like that,” Conrad’s voice rings in my ear.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I ask, instantly awake as a wave of panic engulfs me. Conrad never calls in the middle of the night. Something terrible must have happened.
“Your stepbrother’s in jail,” he informs me, remaining as calm and cool as ever.
I left New York not knowing where Ryan was. The day after Thanksgiving, he never returned to the apartment. I assumed he must have checked into a hotel somewhere in the city, but when I scoped out his room, I noticed his wallet sitting on top of the bureau next to his phone. Conrad had sent him out there with nothing, no credit cards, not even a dollar to his name. How was he supposed to survive like that? Here we were, waking up in one of the most luxurious apartments in Manhattan, and no one knew where he’d spent the night.
I wanted to send someone after him then, but there was a problem at work that needed my attention and I got distracted. I figured he was just being stubborn and that, if he found his way back and begged Conrad’s forgiveness, everything would be all right. Conrad just wanted to prove his authority over him. They’d had many battles like that in the past, and I didn’t think this one was any different.
“The affairs of my son are turning into more of a headache than I bargained for,” Conrad drones on as my mind scrambles to catch up. “He can rot behind bars for all I care. It’s where he belongs along with all the rest of those lowlife cocksuckers.”
“Is there anything you need me to do?” I ask, always the dutiful stepdaughter.
“Ryan’s antics don’t concern me. That’s not why I’m calling you. If he’s going to rough
up some girl, let him pay the price for it. I’m more concerned about the security footage you sent me,” Conrad says, steering the conversation in a different direction. “I only wish you’d sent it sooner.”
“Yeah, I was swamped when I got back. I only had a chance to look at Friday’s feed just before I went to bed, and I was shocked by what I saw,” I respond, furiously backpedaling. “I knew you’d want to see it right away.”
“So our favorite swim coach went over to Eric Young’s house and stayed there for nearly an hour.” Conrad doesn’t raise his voice, but that makes me squirm even more.
Hurriedly, I say, “But we don’t know what they talked about. We—”
“Don’t we?” Conrad’s insinuation hangs in the air.
“Conrad, listen—” I protest.
“Frankly, I’m through with listening to your assurances that you’re on top of this when it’s clear that you’re not,” Conrad scolds me. “And now that things have taken a turn, the only way you can make it up to me is by tying up the loose ends, and maybe then I’ll call it even.”
“I don’t think I can—” I start, but he cuts me off again.
“If you don’t, then you’re as good as dead to me,” Conrad says sharply, and I know he means it.
Everything I’ve worked so hard for is about to be taken away from me. The long hours, the sacrifices, the drudgery—will all be for nothing. He has the power to ruin me. It’s his company. He holds the keys to the castle. I gave up everything for a chance at the brass ring, but he’s asking too much.
“Why can’t you hire someone to do it? Why does it have to be me?” I take a firmer stance, balking at his request.
“There isn’t time,” he insists, and I know he’s not going to give in on this. It’s his way of punishing me for screwing this up for him.
I allowed Tim to be influenced by Ivy. I should have seen it coming. It’s my fault this happened. In Conrad’s estimation, I’m the one to blame if his affair with Cassidy gets out. He’s not the irresponsible one—I am.
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