Cupid Has a Heart-On (The Holidays #2) (2 page)

“I don’t know all the details, but I do know Margie just bought herself a brand new Buick with heated seats, so she must be making good money. It’s some sort of event planning business from what she’s told me. She needs someone to help manage the employees, create schedules and things like that,” my mother explains. “I know it’s not your dream job, but at least it’s something to do until you can find something better. Not that I don’t love having you back home with us, but Thirsty Thursday would be a lot more fun if I didn’t have to always force my daughter out of the house.”

Don’t do it. Do NOT ask…

“Thirsty Thursday?”

Dammit, Noel!

“You know, because we have sexy times on Thursday and your father is thirsty for my body,” she explains with a smile. “Honestly, Noel, it’s really sad I need to explain these things to you. Start having more sex with Sam before he changes his mind and moves on. The penis waits for no woman. And take a shower, for the love of Gouda. The penis doesn’t like a dirty vagina, and neither does a prospective boss.”

Even if this turns out to be the worst interview in the history of the world, anything is better than staying in this kitchen with my mother for one more second. I’m pretty sure no matter what the job entails, I’ll take it. I’d be making my own money again, and I won’t have to see the look of rejection on Sam’s face the next time he asks me to live with him. It would also help me get out of this funk I’ve been in and make me feel like less of a loser. Maybe then I could strap on a set of balls and ask Sam if he told me to keep his mother’s engagement ring because that proposal on Christmas Eve was real, or because it would have been too awkward for him to ask for it back.

You’d think I would have learned my lesson about the whole not-communicating thing, but clearly I haven’t. I just need to get a job. Having a steady stream of income will give me my confidence and independence back, and everything else will fall into place after that. I’m sure of it.

Deciding my mother’s right about one thing, it’s high time I take a shower and attempt to feel human before Sam calls and hears the defeat in my voice. I give my mom a kiss on the cheek and head out of the kitchen.

“Don’t forget to find something to do after your interview!” she calls after me. “Depending on whether or not your father takes his Viagra, it could be anywhere from fifteen minutes to two hours. To be safe, let’s say three-and-a-half hours. That will give us plenty of time for after-sex cuddling in the buff.”

Please, God, get me a job and get me out of this hell.

Bent Spoon

Sam

“Y
ou’re sure they
won’t mind?”

Closing the door to the taxi, I smack my hand on the roof to let the driver know he can leave, then turn to face my friend, Alex, as the car takes off.

“Dude, it’s fine. I told you, Noel’s family is awesome. A tad on the crazy side, but awesome. Her mother will fawn all over you and force-feed you leftovers.”

Pulling my phone out of my back pocket as we head up the front walk, I sigh when I see Noel still hasn’t replied to my text that training ended a few days early. Or returned my three voicemails.

“You are so whipped,” Alex laughs on the way up the steps to the porch. “This chick must have a magic vagina.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter, shoving the phone back in my pocket and shifting my backpack higher onto my shoulder.

Alex Rose—also known as Sweet Child since his name is so similar to that of the rock legend, Axel Rose—is one of my closest friends and partner-in-crime in the Marines. He’d given me so much shit about my whirlwind love affair with Noel over the last few days, I decided the only way to shut him up was to invite him home with me to meet her.

“Listen, before we go in there, I need to run something by you,” I tell him, stopping in the middle of the front porch to reach around and grab the box I’ve been carrying around for the last two weeks out of the side pocket of my bag.

I’d asked Noel to move in with me so many times over the last month and I just couldn’t understand why she kept turning me down. Her excuse about not being able to pay her own way was just bullshit, and then it hit me. Everything that happened with us so far was fast and without any REAL fanfare. It occurred under a fake environment where I was pretending to be someone else, so maybe she doesn’t think I’m serious. Maybe she thinks I feel bad for her because she hasn’t gotten a job jet and she’s been forced to live with her parents. Maybe throwing it out there casually over dinner or watching a movie or after we’ve had sex just wasn’t
enough
.

She needs more.

She
deserves
more.

She deserves the romance and the specialness of it all, and I need to step up my game. I would never tell her in a million years that I really do feel bad she has to live with her parents while she figures things out, but more than that, I just want her to be with me. Now that I’ve found her, it kills me to not have her with me every second of the day.

“Holy shit, is that what I think it is?” Alex whispers when I hold the small, black leather box out between us.

Slowly opening the lid, I smile down at the object nestled inside.

“Oh my God. You’re a dipshit,” Alex mutters. “You put a key in a ring box? She’s going to gut you like a fish if you give that to her. I’m not in love with you, and even I kind of want to punch you in the face right now.”

I glare at him and huff out an angry breath. “Fuck off. It’s romantic. I’m giving her the key to my heart. And my house.”

“No, what you’re giving her is a plausible reason to commit homicide,” he retorts.

“You’re not getting the full effect,” I argue. “I’m going to cook her dinner, light some candles, play some soft music, and tell her how much I want to wake up to her every morning when I give this to her. It’s symbolic.”

“It’s idiotic.”

I growl, holding the box up higher between us. “This is a big step, and she’s going to love it.”

Alex shakes his head at me. “Prove it. Practice exactly what you’re going to do when you give that thing to her and let me be the judge of that.”

We stand on the front porch in silence for a few seconds while I contemplate whether or not this is a good idea or just another way for Alex to bust my balls.

“Come on, you big pussy. Imagine I’m Noel.”

He puts a hand on one hip and pretends to flip his hair back over his should before batting his eyelashes at me.

“Oh, Samuel, I love you so much, even if you have a tiny dick,” he says in a high-pitch, breathy voice.

“You’re an asshole,” I mumble.

“Stay in character, dick-nose,” he replies in the same falsetto voice.

With a deep breath, I pretend it really is Noel standing in front of me, with her gorgeous, long red hair, striking green eyes, and the hottest body I’ve ever seen. I picture the freckles on her nose and the dimple in her cheek when she laughs at something I’ve said or done. I smell the cinnamon apple scent of her skin and feel the warmth of her hands on me.

Realizing my dick is starting to get hard by just imagining her here in front of me, I quickly spit out what I planned to say to her before Alex notices the tent in my pants and this situation becomes even more awkward than it already is.

“I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I can’t imagine spending one more night without you in my arms. I want to be able to kiss you every night before bed and tell you I love you every morning when we wake up. It doesn’t matter if we’ve known each other for a month or a thousand months. I love you. I need you. And I can’t live in that house without you anymore. Move in with me. My house isn’t a home if you’re not there to share it with me.”

“Jesus Christ, I knew you were a gay.”

I jump and let out the most unmanly squeal when I hear Reggie, Noel’s father, speak from the door to the house that I didn’t even notice him open. Quickly snapping the lid to the box closed, I shove it back into my bag with fumbling fingers while her father crosses his arms over his chest and looks back and forth between me and Alex.

“It’s not what it looks like, sir. I was just-”

Reggie holds one hand up in the air and cuts me off. “Does this face look like one that gives a rat’s ass? Quit making out with your girlfriend on my front porch and get inside before all the heat gets out.”

With that, he turns and walks inside the house, yelling for Noel’s mother as he goes.

“BEVERLY! NOEL’S GAY BOYFRIEND IS HOME!”

Alex laughs, patting me on the back as I follow behind Reggie, trying once again to explain to him what was happening out on the front porch.

“Sir, really, it’s not what it looked like. I was just practicing-”

“YAY, Sam’s home! And he brought fresh man-meat!” Noel’s Aunt Bobbie interrupts, rushing into the hallway from the living room and making a beeline right for Alex.

Before I can warn him, her hand flies right to the crotch of his pants and gives it a squeeze.

“I’m Aunt Bobbie, and you are?” she purrs, her face only a few inches from Alex’s.

“Nice to meet you too, pretty lady. The name’s Alex Rose,” he tells her with a charming smile.

I snort under my breath when I hear him use his flirting voice and feel less annoyed about what he made me do out on the porch and having Noel’s dad catch the tail end of it.

“Bobbie, that is not the man’s hand. Drop his penis and go get a martini,” Noel’s mother complains as she joins us in the entryway.

Aunt Bobbie does as she’s told, giving Alex a wink and me a kiss on the cheek before sauntering back into the living room, adding an extra sway to her hips as she goes.

“She’s kind of hot for an older chick, but someone should tell her she’s got man hands,” Alex whispers in my ear.

“Well, she’s a man, soooooo…” I trail off, the shocked expression on his face making me forget all about the front porch incident altogether.

“Sam! We didn’t expect you back for a few more days,” Bev exclaims, pulling me in for a quick hug and immediately removing my backpack from my shoulder. “Noel’s not home right now, but she should be back any minute. She had a job interview, and then I told her stay away for a few hours when she was finished so Reggie and I could have some alone time, if you know what I mean.”

She bumps her elbow against my arm and winks at me. I’m so busy being excited that Noel finally got an interview that Bev takes my silence as confusion.

“You know, alone time. Bumping uglies, I think is what the kids are calling it these days,” she explains. “Although I take offense to that term since my vagina is very far from ugly, I’ll have you know.”

Oh, sweet lord.

“Bev, this is my friend, Alex Rose. Alex, this is Noel’s mother, Bev,” I quickly introduce them before the woman goes into a lengthier discussion about her down-under.

“I…I just…I don’t…man hands,” Alex mutters, ignoring Bev’s outstretched hand.

I quickly punch Alex in the arm to get him to snap out of it and laugh uncomfortably in Bev’s direction. “You’ll have to excuse him. Jet lag makes him a little weird. He’ll be fine after he eats something.”

Bev immediately claps her hands together in excitement and then grabs Alex’s arm and starts dragging him toward the kitchen. “Perfect! I made pot roast in the crock pot all day and I have plenty of leftovers.”

At the mention of food, Alex snaps out of his daze after finding out he just flirted with a man, dressed as a woman, who had her hand on his dick. He wraps one arm around Bev and they start chatting easily on the way to the kitchen.

My smile dies a quick, painful death when Reggie suddenly steps in front of me and blocks my view of Alex and Bev disappearing into the kitchen.

“Sir, I just want-”

My attempt to once again try to explain the situation with Alex on the front porch is thwarted when Reggie brings his hand up, and with fingers spread, presses the entire thing against my face mid-sentence.

“Stop talking,” he scolds. “I like you, Sam. As much as any man can like a guy who’s dipping a spoon in to his daughter’s yogurt before marriage. I just spent the last three hours having my wife do things to me that are illegal in ten states and will give me nightmares for the rest of my life. I don’t have time for your bullshit when I’ve got my own bullshit to deal with. If your bullshit happens to be that you play for the same team as Aunt Bobbie, you better nip it in the bud and tell Noel right quick, or I’ll take that spoon of yours, bend it in half, and shove it down your throat. Are we clear?”

I keep my mouth shut and nod behind his hand, still smushed against my face.

“Glad we’re in agreement. Now, get in the kitchen and let Bev feed you. I need a distraction so I can chisel the dried wax off my balls before she gets any funny ideas about having a round two,” he sighs, finally dropping his hand.

Crouching low and walking carefully on his toes to avoid any creaks in the hardwood floor, he moves to the stairs leading up to the bathrooms, stopping and shooting a panicked look toward the kitchen each times the voices of Bev and Alex pause in their conversation. He finally manages to make it up the stairs and out of sight while I stand by the front door shaking my head at what a pussy I am. I can go off to fight a war in another country, yet I can’t manage five minutes alone with Noel’s father without wanting to piss myself.