by Katy Winters
“You’re not letting me out of this room in anything else, are you?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“And you’re going to stay here and poke me with sharp, pointy things until I leave with you?”
“Something like that.”
“Son of a bitch,” I swear, and shuck off the jeans and sweatshirt I’d been wearing. She has absolutely no sense of personal space—she sets about tucking my breasts into the dress just so, using bobby pins to create an asymmetrical hemline on the green and red dress, and she works quickly on my hair, cascading loose curls down my shoulder while braiding the rest into a complicated bun.
“What the hell? Are you some kind of wizard?” I accuse her, glaring.
“I went to trade school in high school,” she admits. “Hairdressing. I guess listening to everybody’s problems made me want to be a social worker, though. After about a year, I enrolled in college, and here I am.”
She holds me at shoulder-length, gazing at me up and down. She frowns, looking at my shoes. “Hang on. I think we’re about the same size.” She disappears, and I look at myself in the mirror.
I look like a completely different woman. The woman in the mirror is confident, not pissed off and wanting to murder a certain Mr. Byrne. She certainly isn’t miserable and missing the feeling of his arms around her. She hasn’t fallen in love with a man after one night, that was for damn sure.
I can do this, I decide. Kathy returns with a pair of strappy heels that wind with ribbons up to my knees. I find that I actually enjoy the challenge of balancing on heels so high—it’s like walking a tightrope. It will give me something to concentrate on other than the fact that Ian had ditched me like nothing.
We walk down to the bar together, and I listen to her chatter on about her girlfriend back home. They were getting married on Halloween—and she even invites me to the wedding.
“Are you wearing a black dress?”
She looks at me like I’m a damn fool. “Uh, no. Purple,” she says. “Duh.”
Kathy pushes me through the door of the pub, and I can’t help but sweep my gaze across the bar.
I forget how to breathe.
He’s wearing black. His shirt is a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up to show his tattoo, and his slacks are the same shade. He looks like a shadow out of hell, meant to taunt me. My core clenches reflexively, and I take a shallow breathe. God, I’ve never wanted a man this badly in my life.
“Go get him,” she whispers. “Only an idiot couldn’t see that you’re drooling for him.”
I glare at her and shove her toward the gaggle of girls that she normally hung out with. She goes laughing, rolling her eyes at me, and I decide to hold up the bar in the corner. Instead of Guinness, I order whiskey. Might as well start this night right.
Staring into my cup moodily, it occurs to me that there’s a way I can take back the Christmas party. Soccer dude is here somewhere, and I’m sure as hell going to avoid him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t dance.
I’m slightly unsteady on my heels as I walk toward the dance floor, and Kathy hollers at me, grinning. “I knew you would come to your senses!”
Oh, I come to my senses. I come to my senses and dance, losing myself in the company of my fellow women, shaking my ass and twirling around like an idiot. When a song ends, I take another shot of whiskey, until the room is spinning and I’m laughing. Kathy and I are balancing on each other as we dance; this time, a slow dance.
“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” she says slowly, and I can see the buzz in her eyes.
“He called me a cab,” I admit.
“Asshole!”
“I know, right?” I can hear my voice slurring, and I’d be embarrassed if the alcohol didn’t feel so damned good. “Like a damned one-night stand.”
She pauses and leans against my breasts. She’s so much shorter than me that it makes me laugh, especially in the heels. “You gotta tell me though. How was he?”
I pause with my hands on her hips. “Fucking amazing,” I admit softly.
I can feel him behind me before I hear him. “May I have this dance?”
Kathy practically throws me into Ian’s arms, and I fall against his chest. I relax immediately, the scent of him making me feel safe. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed him, how much he’d crawled into my heart in the night we were together. There is something about him that suffuses my being; I know that I’m falling in love with him from a distance.
“I think about you all the time,” I admit. “Damn it. I didn’t mean to say that.”
He’s holding me up as we dance, my eyes closed, my lips against his neck. “I know,” he says softly. “I’ve thought about you every moment since you left my sight.” He pauses, and I can feel the hesitation in his arms.
“What is it?” I murmur against his skin.
He shivers lightly against me and I smile slowly. “I don’t know why you left,” he says quietly. “And...it hurt.”
I rest my hand against his chest and he pulls me closer, laying his chin against my head. “You called me a cab,” I say sadly. “Even Kathy said so, it’s like a one-night stand.”
He chokes and pushes me away lightly so that he can look into my eyes. “I didn’t want you to be embarrassed,” he says. “If I’d brought you to school, your entire class would know that you spent the night with me. I thought you wouldn’t want them to know.”
I rear back to hit him, and he has to catch me. “No more whiskey,” he murmurs, and picks me up in his arms.
“I want everyone to know,” I say loudly, glaring at him. “You said that I’m yours.”
He stops mid-stride and looks down at me as I lay in his arms, swinging my feet. “You look so sexy in that damn dress with those ridiculous shoes that I want to take you on the bar right now,” he growls. “But, more importantly, you are mine. And if you want everyone to know it...”
He set me down carefully on a stool and climbed up on the bar. Borrowing a mug of ale from a nearby coworker, he raises the glass. “AYE!”
The Irishmen (and women!) in the room shouted back as one: “AYE!” and quiet down. It takes us Americans a little longer to get the point.
“It appears that I need the whole pub to know that this woman--” He gestures to me, and I grin. “This woman right here is mine! And to celebrate, a round of Guinness on my esteemed colleague, Dr. McKennan!”
He grabs me and hauls me over his shoulder before Dr. McKennan can get through the crowd to catch us. We’re both laughing, breathless, and I bounce against his back as he carries me to his car. I reach down and hit his ass with the flat of my hand with every step, enjoying the feeling of his firm flesh beneath my palm.
“How sure are you that you want to do that?” he says, his accent thickening as he almost tosses me into the car.
“Touch your ass? Absolutely sure,” I reply, trying not to slur my words. I’m drunk enough to enjoy the consequences, but not drunk enough to cause trouble.
He snorted. “I’m going to let you tell me where I’m taking you this time. Last time I got in trouble.”
I grab him by the shirt and kiss his lips softly. God, he tastes better than the whiskey did. He lays his hand against my back, pulls me closer, and I moan into his mouth as he suckles my bottom lip. “I missed you,” he whispers against my skin.
“I missed you too,” I breathe, and tilt my head to the side. “Mark me again,” I urge him.
“What?”
“Mark me as yours,” I whisper, and the words end up a whimper as I shiver against his hand. “I want to be yours.”
He growls softly, a low purr deep in his throat, and nuzzles my neck with his lips. My skin burns, and I can’t breathe as he reaches up and grasps me by the shoulders. He shudders and bites me lightly, a little harder as I pull him closer, until my head falls back against the seat. “Ian,” I say, my breath ragged.
“Mmm?” He’s licking where he bit now, bathing the little sting. He sucks on my skin gentl
y, then with more pressure until I know it’ll be a mark by tomorrow morning.
“I love you,” I groan, flexing my fingers against him. I want to crawl into his lap and never leave.
“Jesus, Elizabeth,” he whispers. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful in my life.”
He rests his forehead against mine, and we breathe raggedly together, trembling, trying to calm down. I’m almost relaxing, the whiskey seeping away, my vision clearing as he pulls away and looks into my eyes.
“Ian?”
“I love you,” he says simply. He leans forward, caressing my ear with his lips. “And I’m going to give you our baby tonight.”
I’m suddenly glad that Kathy made me wear the skimpy black underwear. They’d be easy to tear off.
Ian
This time, there’s no cab. I’ve never been gladder that it’s a weekend in my entire life. She lays crossways in my bed, with her head on my stomach, breathing softly against me. I stroke her hair gently and wonder how the hell I’ve gotten so lucky.
It’s incredible to think that she hasn’t always been a part of me. It feels so right to have her beside me, on top of me, wherever she happens to be—I know that she’s where I’m meant to be. We haven’t figured out everything yet, but a very long three a.m. conversation revealed that she’d had secret dreams of coming to Ireland and never leaving.
I can handle that.
As it so happens, I have an in with a university that she might want to enroll in. She’s likely no longer allowed to be in my classes, but she promised me last night that she’d dress up in a schoolgirl’s uniform whenever I ask nicely.
I reach down and caress her belly gently, closing my eyes. I want everything with Elizabeth—everything I can give her and more. I honestly never thought that I’d fall in love with anyone, but Elizabeth captured me from the start.
She opens her eyes slowly, and I can tell that she’s still tired. We stayed up until the sunrise, talking. I pull the blanket over her body and smooth her hair back. “Go back to sleep, baby girl.”
“It’s almost Christmas,” she murmurs softly. “Just a few more days.”
I frown, trying to make sense of her stream of thought. “I figure your Christmas present will be an entire closet for your clothes,” I reply, grinning.
She shakes her head, sitting up slowly. “No,” she says quietly, and a smile spreads across her face. She points to the mistletoe I’d idly hung up over the bed. Wishful thinking at the time. “We can make a Christmas baby. That’s what I want for my present.”
It takes me a minute to catch up with her, and my smile is as wide as hers. I’m not sure who pounces who first—but she shrieks as the sheets tear beneath us, laughing, and I can’t imagine being anywhere else.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Ian
She’s sleeping in the rocking chair, with Lissa resting against her breast. It’s been hard to get the baby to sleep these last few days; Elizabeth’s been up and down with her all night long. I creep quietly into the nursery and grab a blanket, covering my girls quietly.
Elizabeth had been right—Lissa had been a Christmas baby, or near enough for it not to matter. She was born just as classes had been starting again; a little early, but she was strong enough to come home straight away. She’s beautiful and perfect.
I stare down at my life; everything I’ve ever wanted is laying in that chair. I sit down quietly, resting my head against Elizabeth’s knee, and reach my hand up to hold Lissa’s feet gently.
The baby doesn’t move, but Elizabeth stirs. “Ian?”
“Sorry,” I whisper. God forbid I wake the baby. “Go back to sleep.”
“I had a dream about us,” she murmurs sleepily. “About our family. We had five little red-haired girls...”
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” I swear. “How am I supposed to keep up with all of you and your tempers? I’ll be overrun!”
She giggles quietly, and Lissa whimpers until Elizabeth settles her against her nipple gently. “It was a nice dream,” she admits. “I just...never thought I wanted a family like this, until you.”
“I know I didn’t want a family like this, until you,” I echo. I look up at the collage of pictures that decorates the nursery wall; every moment from the time Elizabeth came to Ireland until now. The wall is plastered with photos, and I see her “aunt” Kathy in several of them. An idea comes to my mind.
“What say you that ‘Auntie’ Kathy will babysit little Lissa for a few days around the holidays?” I ask quietly.
I can feel Lissa falling asleep, fading in her mother’s arms. It feels like home. “She’s been asking me about her for the last few weeks,” she says, in her little half-American, half-Irish accent she’d been picking up. “She’s coming back to school for the holidays for the second level of the program. I don’t think she’d mind babysitting a little.”
“Good,” I reply, knowing she can see the mischief in my eyes.
“Why do you ask?”
I gesture up to the mistletoe that she hadn’t notice me place in the doorframe of the nursery. “I’ve got plans for you, for Christmas, while we can still get away with it,” I whisper solemnly. “We’ve got some little girls to make.”
“Ian!” she protests, laughing silently. “I don’t think I could handle it yet!”
I gaze up at her, and my heart leaps out of my chest at how beautiful she is, holding our child. “We can handle anything together, baby girl,” I say, reaching up to stroke her hand.
She looks down at me for a long moment, and then back at Lissa. “Little sisters, you say?”
I nod. “In the mountains. For Christmas. I’ve already booked the tickets.”
“You know I’d hit you if I could without waking the baby.”
“I know.”
It’s going to be a good Christmas.
-The End-
Personal Message from the Author
It’s Katy Winters here. Would you do me a big favor? If you want to read more books like this, would you leave an honest review on Amazon? Your honest review means a lot to me.
Thank you so much in advance!
Katy :-)
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About the Author
Bestselling author Katy Winters writes short romance stories that are steamy, sweet, and safe. You can almost always find an older, possessive, OTT alpha male falling in love instantly with a beautiful, curvy heroine. No cliffhangers and HEA guaranteed. Join her mailing list and get a FREE book at http://www.katywinters.com.
More Books from Katy Winters
Instalove in the Canyon
Instalove at the Falls
More Books from A Very Curvy Christmas Collection
Enjoyed this book? Be sure to download the other books in this collection! Each book is a standalone story.
A Very Curvy Christmas Collection
Book 1:
Instalove at Christmas by Katy Winters
Book 2:
Rock Star’s Curvy Christmas by Sara Hazel
Book 3:
His Perfect Package by Mandy Morgan
Book 4:
Nutcracker by Flora Madison
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