12 Christmas Romances To Melt Your Heart (24 page)

A
lex stayed
and answered the police officers’ questions. He mentioned he’d seen the man lurking around the mall yesterday in hopes they’d check out the cameras.

When they were given permission to leave, Laura grabbed his arm and held on tight. “I can’t say how frightened I was.”

“It all turned out fine and no innocent people were harmed. That’s the result you’re always looking for.”

“Who would’ve thought someone would try to rob a small coffee shop in the middle of the day.”

“Someone who knew the place takes in a lot of cash on a day like this. Do you feel better now?”

She glanced at him. “I don’t understand.”

“You caught the two men who were robbing people at the mall. Wasn’t that your goal?”

“It was, but it’s not exactly how I thought it would happen.” She glanced at him. “Besides, you actually caught them. I was just there having coffee.”

“I don’t know if we would have had the same outcome if you hadn’t smacked him with that sugar dispenser. The way I see it, the bad guy is locked up and the other one is dead. Maybe that’s all you need to say.”

She released him and stepped back. “Lie?” Turning away, she glanced back. “I could never lie to my father and I wouldn’t for this anyway.”

“Okay, so what then?”

“I’m satisfied that I tried my best to find them. Yes, in the end they found me, but I stayed with it and I would be out there right now if this hadn’t happened.”

“And what’s the moral of the story?”

“Never give up.” She walked toward his car. “And if that’s not enough for my father, I have a very prosperous business as an attorney.”

He laughed. “I guess it’s how the day ends that matters.”

As she and Alex headed for her parents’ house, a smile curled the corners of her mouth. She imagined the whopper she could tell her family about her morning. But that wasn’t necessary. The truth was quite compelling.

Pulling to a stop in front of the big two-story Avery house in Colleyville, Laura put her hand on the door handle. “Come inside. I’m sure my father will want to thank you for saving my life.”

“No thanks, we’ll let it pass.”

She leaned over and touched his arm. “You have absolutely nothing to do right now, so come in and spend some time with my family, please.”

He gave her a crooked grin. “You sure you want me?”

She opened the door. “Don’t push your luck.”

Inside the house, the delicious smell of bacon frying and cinnamon rolls in the oven greeted them. She glanced at Alex and said, “We’re just in time for a second breakfast.”

“It’s our lucky day.”

Her father walked out of the living room, the newspaper folded under his arm, a scowl darkening his face. “Just where have you been, young lady?”

On her way to the breakfast room, she said over her shoulder, “I spent the night at Alex’s.”

By the time she entered the room, the girls were all cheering and clapping. Laura frowned and glared at them. “Stop that, now.” She pulled out a chair from the huge table that brought back a flood of happy memories. “You act like I don’t get any action at all.”

Her mother cleared her throat and picked up the coffeepot. “Ladies, we are at the table.”

“I know, but they’re acting like idiots.”

“Us? Who wanted to go hunting down criminals?” Cynthia, who still wore her bunny pajamas, asked. “You had us prowling all over the place.”

Alex stepped into the room, and Bea quickly ran to retrieve another chair.

“We caught the guys,” Laura said.

“No way,” Kandice said. “No way in hell.”

He sat and her mother immediately filled a cup for him then passed a plate of eggs and bacon. “One, unfortunately, is dead, but the other is in police custody.

“What?” her father said gruffly. “You killed someone?”

Jacklyn waved her hand. “You’re so full of it. Nobody here is going to believe crap like that.”

“Girls,” her mother warned.

“Mom, Laura is lying. She didn’t catch anyone. She’s just making it up so we’ll all feel guilty for not going with her,” Madelyn said.

Alex cleared his throat. “Laura is actually telling the truth. Those same men came into the coffee shop we were at this morning and tried to rob the place.”

“Honestly?” Cynthia said. “Oh, I wish I’d been there.”

Jacklyn huffed. “I wish we’d all been there. Then we could’ve seen what happened.”

“Well,” Laura said. “It should not surprise you that I didn’t singlehandedly bring them to justice, but Alex did.”

“With her help,” he added, pouring cream in his coffee. “She was quite brave.”

“Dear,” her mother said, rubbing Laura’s arm. “You could have been hurt.” She sent her father a scalding glare. “If that would’ve happened there would be trouble in paradise.”

Laura folded her arms on the table. “So what do you think, Father?”

“I think you’re a very foolish girl. You should’ve returned home the instant you realized I was playing a joke on you.”

Gritting her teeth, she glared at her father. “That’s all you have to say?”

Alex patted her on the hand.

“No, it isn’t,” he said, looking up from his plate. “Alex, I’m disappointed you put Laura in such a compromising position. She could’ve been hurt.”

She stared at her father. “So, you blame Alex now?”

“I’m not blaming anyone.”

“I am,” Laura said. “You put all of us in danger. You and crazy Hanna coming in here like an underpaid actress. You should be ashamed of yourself. If you ever pull anything like that again, I won’t come home for the holidays.”

She shoved back her chair and marched out of the room.

Somehow Alex figured it would come to this. Someone was bound to jump up from the table and dash off. One of them always did. Twisted Sisters. Shaking his head, he picked up the dainty cup and took a sip of his coffee. The food held no appeal for him and now he suddenly wanted to leave.

“I apologize, Alex,” Thomas said. “You are not to blame for this.” He gazed at his wife as if she had him by the balls and was squeezing. “I shouldn’t play games with the girls. It’s not my place to test their grit. They’re grown women and I’m leaving it up to them to decide if they want my business.”

“Apology accepted. And Thomas, I think that’s the best move.”

“Now, is everyone happy?” Thomas asked.

The four young women and their mother thought for several minutes, and Alex was sure it was just to watch Thomas squirm.

“I think we’re okay, father,” Madelyn said. “But don’t do it again. It’s not nice.”

Thomas didn’t seem to take that last piece of advice too well, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Alex stood. “I really should be going.”

“No,” Kandice insisted. “You haven’t told us about last night.”

“Yes,” Jacklyn agreed. “We want all the juicy gossip.”

“Girls,” their mother warned.

Alex gave them a hard look and left the room. Amanda caught up with him in the formal dining room. “Please come and spend Christmas with us tomorrow.”

“I’ll be at my sister’s.”

“The whole day?”

“I’m not sure.”

“If you have a few minutes, we’d love to have you.”

He smiled and thanked her for the coffee. As his hand touched the doorknob, Laura walked down the staircase wearing a bright red sweater and tight jeans.

“Had all you can stand for a day?”

“No, I have a few things to do.”

“Alex Sanders, you’re a liar.”

“No, there are a few items I need to purchase.”

She crossed her arms and stood in front of him. “Are you going to take my mother up on the offer and come by tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.”

And he didn’t. Like so many times before, he wasn’t sure the offer was real. If Laura didn’t want him there, then Alex didn’t want to play the fool.

She rose on her tiptoes and gently kissed his lips. The instant they touched, his body reacted in a way he’d never imagined. He put his arms around her and pulled her tight against him.

He slanted his mouth, savoring the delicious taste of her. With her body against his, he wanted to melt into her and be one.

She broke the kiss, gasping for breath. Looking into his eyes, she smiled. “That’s your Christmas present.”

“Good,” he smiled. “I got the same thing for you.” He lowered his mouth to hers and realized that Christmas really was a magical time at the Twisted Sisters’ house.

F
or as long
as she can remember, Geri Foster has been a lover of reading and the written word. By the seventh grade she had worn out two library cards and had read every book in her age area of the library. After raising a family and saying good-bye to the corporate world, she tried her hand at writing.

T
o her surprise
, she won a couple of contests, hooked up with a really great critique group and her writing career was well on its way. She spent several years studying her craft and developing her voice.

A
ction
, intrigue, danger and sultry romance drew her like a magnet. That’s why she had no choice but to launch her published career with action-romance suspense. While she reads every genre under the sun, she’s always been drawn to guns, bombs and fighting men. Secrecy and suspense move her to write edgy stories about daring and honorable heroes who manage against all odds to end up with their one true love.

T
o keep
the serious side of life at bay, Geri likes to write sexy short stories for her fans.  In the Women of Courage series, Geri explores the deeper, darker nuances of life and relationships in small-town mid-century America.

C
opyright
© 2015 by
Tammy Falkner

Yes, You

E-Edition

Night Shift Publishing

Cover design by Tammy Falkner

A
ll rights reserved
. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

T
his book is
a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

F
or Sheri
, since she asked me for this one.

H
e leans
against the side of the building with a cigarette dangling from his lips. His boots are crossed at the ankles as he leans against the brick wall. Scrunching up one eye to keep the smoke out, he looks almost unapproachable, and the thought of actually going up to talk to him scares me to death. Yet, I’m going to do it anyway.

He comes out here every day and sneaks a cigarette, glancing furtively left and right like he’s afraid someone will see him.

I see him.

I see him everywhere I go, it seems.

He doesn’t really fit in here, with his tattoos and his perpetual bad attitude. I know from class that he would rather grunt than speak in full sentences. And people let him, mostly because they’re afraid of him. But the only thing I’m afraid of…

Well. The only thing I’m afraid of is that I won’t get to meet him. That he’ll turn away and refuse to talk to me.

I take a deep breath and start in his direction, but just as I do, he drops his cigarette butt to the ground, grinds it under the heel of his boot, and then he throws his backpack over his shoulder and starts walking in the other direction.

He’s walking away. Seriously?

“Excuse me,” I call to his retreating back. I sound like I swallowed Kermit, so I clear my throat. “Excuse me,” I call again. I run to catch up with him and tug on his backpack. He looks back over his shoulder, but then he keeps right on walking. “Wait!” I say, trying to keep up. “Damn it, would you
stop
?”

He stops very quickly and I slam into his back. He rocks forward and I grab onto his pack to stay upright, feeling like I have two left feet. I am usually more graceful than this. My mother would kill me if she saw me right now, making a public spectacle of myself in the quad.

He turns, grabs me by the shoulders and steadies me, then he bends down to look into my eyes. His are bright blue and full of questions. “Are you all right?” he asks, his voice gruff. I’ve never heard him do more than grunt in class, so hearing him make a full sentence, albeit a short one, is startling.

“I’m fine,” I gasp, a little winded from chasing him. “You’re really fast.”

He grins. “Sweetheart, you haven’t seen fast.”

My heart skips a beat. I am in such big trouble. I don’t know why I thought I could approach a man like this, but I did, and now I don’t know how to ask for what I want.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asks. A grin tips one corner of his lips. He’s pretty enough to take my breath away. His blond hair flops across his forehead and he shakes his head to swing it back from his eyes.

I open my mouth to speak, but only a squeak comes out. He looks around the quad, looking behind me like he’s trying to figure out where the hell I came from.

When he sees that no one is chasing me, he takes my shoulders in his hands and gives me a gentle squeeze, bending so he can stare into my eyes. “Hey,” he says softly, like I’m a stray dog he’s trying to trap. “Are you okay?”

I thrust out my hand. “Madison Wentworth,” I say. “I just wanted to introduce myself.”

His eyes narrow and he stares at me, but he doesn’t stick his hand out to shake mine. I let mine hang there in the air between us until it becomes so heavy with disappointment that I have to tuck it into the pocket of my jeans.

“Guess not.” I sigh. “I’m very sorry for taking up your time.”

“Which one of those fuckers put you up to this?” he asks. He grinds his teeth as he waits for my response.

“What?”

“Those frat boys you hang out with, the ones with more money than sense. Which one put you up to this?” He glares at me.

“No one put me up to this,” I say.

“Listen, sweetheart,” he says, his face very close to mine. I can smell the cigarette he just smoked and the coffee he must have had before it. “You don’t want to mess with a man like me.”

“Okay,” I whisper. I clear my throat. “Fine. Have a nice day.”

I am one hundred percent ashamed of myself. I had imagined that going so differently. I had imagined him being devastated by my…well, by me. But he isn’t. He just looks at me like I’ve gone off my rocker. And maybe I have.

I turn to walk away, my feet heavy as leaden weights. Trudging across campus never took me this long before. I walk toward my car and pop the trunk, tossing my backpack inside. I stand there staring down.

All my life, I have gotten everything I ever wanted. I have a mother and father who are incredibly successful. We live in a big house in upstate New York where my parents own a horse farm. I’m attending this prestigious college and I don’t have to worry about anything. To everyone looking on, I have it all.

But no one knows how very lonely I am. No one knows that my parents work every minute of every day. No one knows that I’m having trouble fitting in at school. I work really hard to hide my need for more. More what? I have no idea. But I need more.

I don’t know why I thought I’d find it by befriending Bob Caster. Bob Caster, the bad boy. Bob Caster, the dreamy man who makes me want to ask him a thousand questions and just sit back and listen to the answers. Bob Caster, who, although he is incredibly poor—you can tell by the quality of his clothes and shoes—probably has more than I do. He probably even has friends. Real ones. Not just the ones who want to be around me because I can buy the shots.

The rev of a motorcycle behind me jars me out of my pity party. The pavement rumbles under my feet.

“Hey, you,” a voice calls out.

I turn to look, and find Bob Caster perched on a gleaming motorcycle with wide, shiny handlebars. I point to myself and ask, “Who? Me?”

“Yes, you,” he says. He squints at me like he’s trying to look inside me. I cross my arms under my breasts to block his piercing gaze, and his eyes drop down to my boobs. He licks his lips ever so slowly, and then his eyes travel back up. Heat creeps up my cheeks, but I refuse to fidget on my feet. I stare straight at him. “You want to take a ride with me?” he asks. He revs the bike.

I point a finger. “On
that?
”

He grins that sideways grin again. “Well, I wasn’t offering my
personal
services
.” He glances down at his button fly, and then he laughs. He runs a hand lovingly down the shiny chrome handlebar, his touch reverent and respectful. “Of course on this.”

I point to the center of my chest and then at the bike. “You want to take me for a ride on that?”

He stares at me.

I finally let that feet fidget thing happen and want to kick myself. “Is it safe?”

He shakes a cigarette out of a pack and takes his time lighting it. He inhales deeply and holds it for a moment. Then he blows it out and says, “I won’t let you get hurt.”

I look at my car and then at him. He revs the engine again.

“Where are we going?”

“For a ride,” he says with a shrug.

“When will we be back?” I step closer to him and his eyes light up a little. And I like it.

“When we get done.”

Be still my heart.

He flicks his cigarette into the grass. “Are you coming or what?”

“Okay,” I say.

He looks surprised. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He takes the helmet off his head and holds it out to me. I pull my ponytail free and tug the helmet on. He reaches out to buckle the strap for me, his fingers gentle. “How old are you?” he asks, his voice strong but quiet.

“Nineteen.”

“Good.” He grins.

He motions for me to climb on behind him and I do, my thighs spread around his hips. He lifts my feet and shows me where to put them.

“Why is that good?” I ask close to his ear.

He looks back over his shoulder. “Because I don’t want to go back to jail.”

He doesn’t wait. He hits the gas and I shriek as we take off through the parking lot and onto the open road. He reaches back with one hand and puts my hand on his waist, and I automatically follow with the other. I hold on tightly to the man who just told me he doesn’t want to go back to jail, and I wonder what the heck I just got myself into.