'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set

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'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set Page 46

by Maggie Dallen


  Taking a page out of his book, I force myself to act similarly. I toss back several of Taylor's Christmas cocktails for the liquid courage I need to get through the rest of tonight.

  Keeping things simple tonight, especially after the crazy meal Denver whipped up for Christmas Eve, we all munch on cheese platters and charcuterie boards. Denver and Taylor prepared several salads and side dishes with a roast chicken that sits on the kitchen table, buffet style. Everyone eats in different clusters of conversations, fixing a plate whenever hunger strikes, and the night is laid back and fun in a way I haven't experienced in years. As peppermint martinis and eggnog muddle my mind, I find myself relaxing more and more until I can almost ignore Finn entirely.

  Walking out of the upstairs bathroom, I inhale sharply when I nearly collide with him.

  "Finn," I say, my voice sounding surprised, as if I don't know why he's here. That's good, Daisy. Casual.

  "You okay?" he asks, his eyebrows pinching low over his eyes, his hand finding my wrist. It's a loaded question, and I decide to answer it with the easiest response.

  "Yeah, thanks. Taylor's drinks can be a little much, but I'm pacing myself fine." I try to side step him, but he shuffles to block my way.

  "Daisy, about before…" He peers down at me, the words hanging between us.

  I raise my eyebrows expectantly and Finn sighs.

  "I'm sorry things can't be different," he says with so much sweetness, so much sincerity, that the cool demeanor I've been struggling to maintain blows apart, and I avert my gaze. His fingers lift my chin until I meet his eyes once more, and the pain I see there is nearly my undoing.

  "Me too," I whisper, offering him my polite smile once more. Apparently, this is my new go-to deflection tactic.

  "We're going to be working together and—"

  "You don't have to explain. I won't make things awkward for you in Scotland."

  Finn's brow dips even lower, and a flash of frustration rolls over his features. "I'm not worried about things being awkward. I don't think…I don't know," he sighs, tugging on the back of his neck the way my brother Jax does when he's at a loss for words. "I hope we can be friends."

  Friends? I almost laugh at the title but instead of scoffing, I nod. I’m frustrated, forced to hide the turmoil I feel. "Sure," I pause, trying to lockdown the emotions bubbling inside of me. "Friends is good. Merry Christmas, Finn." This time when I try to side step him, he lets me pass. My arm brushes across his chest, and I shiver at the physical contact, my body craving his touch.

  "Happy Christmas, Daisy," he answers, but the words sound hollow, none of the warmth and excitement from last night infused in them.

  I bound down the stairs, my heart squeezing and my eyes stinging at the loss of my Christmas wish.

  Chapter 7

  Finn is gone nearly as fast as he appeared. The day after Christmas, the house still strewn with bits of wrapping paper and ribbon, a silence permeates the space now that the holiday has passed. Everyone has plans and things to do, and we all bustle back to our normal lives and schedules, the special shine of Christmas already forgotten.

  Denver and Sierra are busy planning their upcoming wedding. Taylor is beyond excited to be involved, and is pulling Sierra from appointment to appointment to meet with various vendors she knows from her modeling career. Carter is enjoying the entire thing, laughing each time Denver's face falls at the mention of another wedding-related expense.

  Evie and Jax are quiet, spending more time together as Evie's upcoming trial date looms closer, and it's clear she's nervous about facing her attacker in court. Jax is, as usual, a pillar of support, and the way he rallies behind her makes me proud he's my brother.

  As for me, the days seem long since I don't have much to occupy my mind except for thoughts of Finn. To keep myself busy, I pick up serving shifts at Cork’s, stay up late discussing wedding plans with Sierra, finish packing for Scotland, and spend time with my brothers.

  But each night when I crawl into bed, I can't help but think, what if? What if my Christmas wish came true? The one with endless kisses from Finlay Anderson. What if Finn wanted to try things with me? I dream up a million different scenarios that all leave me with a sharp pang of emptiness when I realize they aren’t going to materialize.

  On the morning of New Year's Eve, I wash my face and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror.

  "Enough of this," I tell my reflection. "You are a strong, independent, intelligent woman. You don't need a guy to fulfill you or make you happy. You have an incredible opportunity waiting for you in an exciting, new place. Forget Finn. Forget everything he made you feel. And do you."

  I nod to myself, my arms bracing against the top of the vanity.

  It's a new year.

  I have a new job.

  And I'm going to be an all-knew Daisy Kane.

  "I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you wanted them to with Finn," Taylor tells me softly, her fingers playing over the edges of her long, blonde hair.

  I shrug, looking into my wine glass and swirling its contents.

  "I really could've sworn he was into you," she continues, her voice holding an edge of surprise letting me know she's serious. She really did think something would develop between Finn and me.

  And it did.

  It just didn’t have the ending I was hoping for.

  "It doesn't matter," I lie, forcing a smile as I look up. "I shouldn't be getting involved with a guy I'm going to be working with anyway. I mean, this job, it's an incredible opportunity for me, and it would be short-sighted to risk that for a few dates with someone."

  Taylor nods in understanding, her eyes sweeping over my face, as if to check that I'm telling the truth. "I guess so," she finally says.

  "Really, I'm fine. Let's celebrate the New Year and enjoy tonight."

  "To next year." She holds her glass up, and I clink it with mine.

  "To next year."

  "To your new job," Carter adds, sliding up beside Taylor and hooking his arm around her waist.

  "And your move.” Jax joins our little group.

  "And your surrogate family." Sierra laughs, smiling widely at me as she wraps an arm around my shoulder.

  "Happy New Year," Den concludes with Evie echoing his toast.

  We all cheers together just moments before the clock strikes midnight and the New Year is upon us.

  But while my brothers and their women are laughing and joking, caught up in the moment of festivities, I feel like an outcast. Like I don't belong here, among their happy celebration, sharing love and excitement and future plans.

  Turning away from the group, I place my wine glass down on a table and slip outside as the partygoers inside erupt with the official start of the New Year. I don't turn back to see them all caught up in embraces, kissing their significant others, and getting completely lost in the moment.

  Instead, I breathe in the cool air on my front porch and sit on the top step, looking out over the dark street. Finn Anderson didn't mean anything. The entire kiss was nothing. I'm moving to Scotland in one week to start an incredible job at a company I really admire. I'm going to learn a lot, grow and develop. I don't have time for distractions anyway. Most definitely not distractions of the Finlay Anderson variety.

  So if I'm being objective, which I will admit is difficult to do when my heart rate spikes at the mere thought of Finn, he did me a favor.

  I'm going to embark on my new adventure looking forward, not getting caught up in the past, in might-have-beens. In what-ifs.

  Nope.

  I don't have time for Finlay Anderson or the torrent of emotions he made me feel.

  I need to be focused, disciplined, and serious if I'm going to excel at this new position and advance my career in the UK.

  Looking at the stars twinkling in the night sky, I make my New Year's Resolution.

  This year, I'm going to focus on myself.

  I’m not going to be distracted by guys, ahem, Finlay Anderson.

&nbs
p; I’m not going to back away from challenges.

  I’m going to embrace every opportunity that comes my way.

  This year, I’m going to do me.

  Happy New Year to my Year of No Fear.

  Epilogue

  Finn

  Hogmanay used to be my favorite holiday.

  I loved everything about beginning a new year: the new opportunities, upcoming changes, exciting adventures. I also loved everything about starting the new year off with a bang: the partying, unlimited drinks, sultry kisses at midnight that conclude with breakfast on January 1.

  Each year, my best mate Roger and I plan our Hogmanay months in advance to hit up as many parties as we can, mingle with loads of women, and have an epic ending to the year.

  But this Hogmanay, I’m in a shite mood.

  The music at the pub is too loud.

  The laughter of beautiful women is irritating the hell out of me.

  The shots of tequila and slew of pints I’ve downed have done nothing to drown out my misery.

  And while I should be relaxing under Sally’s touch as she trails her fingers up the inside of my thigh, I’m bloody distracted.

  Not by her.

  But by the memory of Daisy Kane.

  Damn. Even thinking her name brings an image of her to mind.

  The honey highlights in her hair, the wicked curves of her body, and her eyes. Her eyes are the most brilliant color, brown and green and yellow fading into each other like a marble. Expressive and alluring, Daisy’s eyes draw me in almost as much as the temptation of tasting her sweet lips.

  Biting the corner of my mouth, Sally misinterprets my pleasure and cups my jeans. “Let’s take this back to my place, Finn.”

  I groan for all the wrong reasons. Removing her hand, I shake my head. “Not tonight. I need to find Roger. Happy New Year, Sally.” I offer pathetically, standing from my chair, my eyes roaming the pub for my mate.

  When I spot him leaning against the bar, his arms framing the hips of a beautiful redhead, I shake my head and pull out my phone to send him a text.

  Me: Heading out. See you tomorrow. Happy New Year.

  Then, I tug on my coat and scarf and leave the pub, stepping out into the cold night. Walking home, sidestepping drunk partygoers, I wonder if Daisy will kiss anyone at midnight. Just the thought of some random bloke touching her causes my blood to simmer in my veins.

  I’m sorry things can’t be different.

  I said the words to her after kissing her bloody senseless in the kitchen of her home. I said the words and at the time, I meant them.

  I wanted nothing more than to tug Daisy against me, tangle my fingers in her hair, and press my mouth against hers. I wanted to hear every gasp that fell from her lips and taste each sweet moan on my tongue. I was desperate to lock us in her bedroom and work her over slowly, savoring every inch of her body.

  Turning up a corner, I rake my hands over my head, and pull my scarf tighter. Tight enough to choke myself for being so bloody stupid.

  Because none of those things happened. I didn’t pursue Daisy the way I want to. The way I crave.

  I let her go.

  Gently. But firmly.

  I watched the light fade from her eyes and the tears she tried to blink away collect on her eyelashes.

  I walked away.

  And now, I’m going to be bloody tortured by the sight of her every day in the office, probably wearing curve-hugging skirts and high, high heels.

  Clearing my throat, I watch the puff of my breath that hangs in the air.

  Daisy Kane is off-limits.

  She’s an Anderson employee.

  She’s my cousin’s best friend.

  We have history.

  She’s moving to Edinburgh to begin her career.

  I list all the reasons why I can’t mess around with Daisy. I repeat them over and over in my mind.

  But when her beautiful face finds me in my dreams later that night, I don’t care about a single one.

  Thank you so much for reading! The next book in the series is One Last Chance. Follow Daisy to Edinburgh and find out how her and Finn navigate their complicated but spicy workplace relationship. Click here to read One Last Chance now.

  Or, meet The Kane Brothers from the beginning with Jax and Evie’s story in Rescuing Broken.

  Subscribe to her newsletter to receive book updates, bonus content, and more!

  Keep scrolling! Christmas Letters by Christina Benjamin is up next!

  Rae never loved Christmas much. Bouncing from place to place in the foster system didn’t afford her very fond holiday memories. And this Christmas is proving to be one of her most difficult yet as she begins to receive mysterious letters counting down the 12 days until Christmas.

  At first, she thinks the letters are just a prank, but whoever is sending them knows startling details about her life and most recent failed relationship.

  Will the clues from the cryptic letters leave her broken hearted or could this be the Christmas miracle she’s been waiting for?

  Chapter 1

  When the letters first start coming, it’s exciting. But the novelty wears off after the first few and I find myself in denial. I sit in the drafty bedroom I share with three other foster kids, leaning my back against the peeling floral wallpaper.

  I push my glasses back up my nose, rolling my eyes at my roommate, Tyra. “They’re not from Alex, okay? I told you I haven’t heard from him since he left.”

  “Yeah, but you two were like Beyoncé and Jay-Z! You’re flawless together. Besides, whoever’s sending you these letters knows you. Who else could it be? Unless . . . are you holding out on me, Rae?”

  “No,” I grumble swiping the note from her caramel-colored hand and carefully folding it back into a neat little square. “Just drop it, okay?”

  “Geez, who crapped in your oatmeal?”

  “Sorry,” I mumble. “It’s just . . . I don’t want to get my hopes up, ya know?”

  “I know,” Tyra says squeezing my hands. Her mocha skin makes her facial piercings dance when she lets her smile touch her eyes. “He didn’t leave you on purpose. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say quickly as I get off my bed and walk to the desk near the window. I don’t want Tyra to see I’m fighting tears again. She already worries about me too much.

  My backpack is hanging on the wobbly chair near the window. I zip the note into the front pocket with all my other worldly possessions—a lighter, pepper spray, lucky rabbit’s foot, pocket knife, bus pass, cash and the rest of the letters. I take a deep breath trying to relieve the ache in my heart, but it’s no use. A tear is already making its way down my pale cheeks.

  “Hey,” Tyra says, already by my side squeezing my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Rae. I shouldn’t have said anything about Alex. I know how bad losing him hurt you.”

  I let her hug me as I sob into her warm neck.

  “No, you’re right. I thought it was Alex too. I mean I want it to be him, but it just seems so out of the blue. I haven’t heard a thing from him in almost a year and now these letters start to show up? If it is him, why doesn’t he just say so? Does he think it’s cute to mess with me?”

  “For real,” Tyra says. “I mean it is pretty lame to send Christmas letters, even for Alex.”

  I try to smile at her but it’s no use. She sees right through me.

  “Ah, come, on. Let’s go get some coffee at EJ’s. It’s Christmas break! We should be celebrating, not moping around this dump.”

  “Thanks, Ty. But it’s freezing out and I don’t really feel like going into the city.” What I don’t feel like is celebrating. These mystery letters are opening old wounds.

  Tyra crosses arms preparing her argument. “The fresh air will do you good.”

  “Fresh? There’s nothing fresh about New York City air.”

  She laughs. “But it’s filled with Christmas magic, darling.” She pulls my hand up and spins me around like a ballerina in a jewelry box. “It’ll b
e fun. We can window shop and pick on the trust fund brats when they freak out about the sidewalk salt ruining their Gucci’s. Come on! You know I’m not gonna give in,” she says with a devilish twinkle in her warm toffee eyes.

  “Okay, fine,” I concede. “Let’s go.”

  “Yes! Just let me do my hair.”

  I watch Tyra pick out her fro to epic proportions. We layer on our winter scarves, hats and mittens until we’re ready to battle the brisk New York weather. The Warden, as we call her, doesn’t even notice us as we sneak down the stairs and out the front door.

  She’s busy watching Wheel of Fortune with the volume at an ungodly level. Even if she could hear us, she doesn’t care what we do, as long as the paychecks the state sends keep coming. We’re fine with this arrangement. As far as state homes go, I’ve been in much worse. The Warden doesn’t cause trouble for us, so we return the favor.

  We scurry to the shelter of the bus stop at the end of our block, leaving slushy footprints behind. We flag down the driver who doesn’t even wait for us to snatch a seat before he starts slugging along.

  Tyra pulls out her ear buds and shares them with me as always. She’s blasting some crazy new rap song I’ve never heard, but I’m grateful for the noise because it drowns out the pounding thoughts of Alex and the letters for a few seconds. But it’s only a momentary reprieve. The next song is Beyoncé crooning about ‘lovin til the end of time’ and Alex’s image dances in my mind.

  I unzip my jacket. Like that’ll help me breathe better. It doesn’t. I shut my eyes tight and settle into the hard, plastic seat, trying to push away the painful thoughts of the boy who stole my heart.

  Chapter 2

  The Three amigos . . . Alex, Tyra and me.

  That’s how it’s been for so long, and that’s how it was supposed to be right now.

 

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