Wrapped in You (12 page)

“You could never hurt me.” He trailed a finger down the line of her jaw. “You hide behind your tough exterior, but underneath you’re soft lace and sweetness.”

Before she could protest, he held her hips and brought her down on his erection. She gasped as he slowly slid into her. Holding her, he rocked into her.

Each indolent roll of his hips touched her just right, inside and out, and before long she was moaning. She closed her eyes, focused on the crazy pleasure lighting up every corner of her body.

“Mason,” she gasped as she suddenly burst, like a shooting star streaking across the night sky.

“Yes,” she heard him say, and then she felt him join her, his fingers biting into her hips with the force of his climax.

She melted against him, against his rapidly beating heart.

He kissed her temple. “Best. Christmas.
Ever
,” he said, his arms holding her close.

They stayed there, cuddled, she wasn’t sure for how long. Then he took care of the condom before gathering her in his arms again and covering them with a throw. He looked at her and said, “You have three movie choices for tonight, all with holiday themes, of course. The first one is
The Holiday
. It’s about a British girl who goes to California and finds herself.”

She shifted her head enough to give him a flat look.

“You’re right, it’s overrated. No one likes Kate Winslet.” He pursed his lips in feigned thought. “How about
Love Actually
? It’s got your countrymen in it. You must love Hugh Grant.”

She didn’t blink.

“Oookay . . . I’m guessing that’s a no.” He reached for the remote control on the side table next to him and pressed a button. “Then it’s this one.”

She groaned. “You are going to make me watch
Home Alone
, aren’t you?”

“Hell, no! Who do you take me for?” He frowned at her, obviously offended. “Don’t you know me better by now?”

She watched the credits suspiciously, then she faced him in surprise. “
Die Hard
?”

“Best holiday movie ever. I watch it with my nephews every year, even though it’s probably inappropriate content for them. They’re three and seven.” He grinned. “I love it when the little one yells
Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!
because it pisses my sister off. Are you going to talk through the whole movie, or can we watch this?”

She shook her head, not sure she had any words to say.

“Better.” He kissed her temple and snuggled her closer.

She tried not to notice how perfectly they fit against each other, or the way he caressed her back as though she were a precious treasure, or that his heart was steady under her hand as if for her. She tried to concentrate on Bruce Willis, even though the hero she was most interested in was naked beside her.

Chapter Eight

She didn’t need to be reminded that she was going back to London.

Swiveling the plastic stirrer, she frowned at her gin & tonic. It was one of the best gin & tonics she’d ever had. How was that possible? Was everything better in Laurel Heights? Even Swank, the lounge attached to the hotel, was a cut above, with its gas fireplace and low-slung retro couches.

She was on holiday—of course everything was going to seem alluring and fun. That was what vacation was supposed to be. At least, she imagined it so. She’d never taken one before so she didn’t have substantive proof.

She only had a few days left.

She was down to the last two things on the list.

The lounge’s door opened and two women walked in. One was a tall redhead in a splash of color, the other was Eve, smiling brightly as she headed to the bar where Trudy was sitting.

“Sorry we’re late,” Eve said, giving her a quick squeeze. “I had a customer who wouldn’t leave. I hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend. This is Freya. Freya, Trudy is on vacation and has a boss who’s insane.”

“Ouch.” Wincing, Freya gave her a hug, too. “My last boss was insane, too.”

“What did you do about it?” Trudy asked, curious, as the women settled themselves on the stools next to her.

“I made a voodoo doll of him and poked pins at it every chance I got.”

Eve shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”

“Eve did, too,” Freya said without missing a beat.

“I should have.” Eve tucked her hair behind her ear as she faced Trudy. “My father was our boss.”

Freya gestured to the bartender to get his attention. “That was the only reason that kept me from taking a hit out on him.”

“Freya and I have been friends a long time,” Eve explained.

“It’s nice having someone who shares your history,” the redhead said.

She wouldn’t know. In school she’d been different, so the other girls kept their distance. And then she’d started working with Jon. He was the closest thing she had to a girlfriend. Cool or pathetic? It seemed a toss-up, depending on the time of day.

They ordered drinks, and when they arrived they clinked their glasses together before Freya leaned on her elbow and said, “So what makes your boss insane?”

“He forced me to go on holiday,” Trudy said bitterly.

“And he gave her a list of things to do, to have fun,” Eve added as she sipped her drink.

“In exchange, he’s going to make me a partner in his business.”

“What does he do?”

“We’re a private investigation firm. I do all the electronic legwork.”

Freya nodded. “And how would being a partner be different in what you do?”

“I’d”—Trudy frowned—”well, it wouldn’t be different, but I’d have more autonomy.”

“So he micromanages you?” she asked sympathetically.

“No, he leaves me mostly alone, but I’d have a stake in the business.”

Freya pursed her lips. “That’s semantics, right? Because it doesn’t appear much different than what you do now.”

Eve hummed and then diplomatically said, “If this is what you want to do for the rest of your life, then I can see how it’d be important to get a stake now.”

The rest of her life. Trudy stirred her drink. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Freya turned to Eve. “Isn’t Gwen’s guy a detective, too?”

“Yes. I was going to arrange a get together so they could meet.” Eve looked back and forth between them. “How is Wednesday night for you guys?”

“Sounds great to me. We’ll leave the kids with Anna,” Freya said enthusiastically. She faced Trudy. “Anna is my younger sister. I raised her, so I feel justified in making her babysit. My children are angels though.”

Eve laughed. “Her children are adorable, which makes up for the fact that they’re hellions.”

“Did I tell you that Greg taught Mae to sing “Baby’s Got Back?” Hearing her little voice say ‘I like big butts and I cannot lie!’ is the best thing ever.” She turned to Trudy again. “Our daughter is two, and our son is four months old. He’s going to be a player like his daddy. He’s already flirting with all the ladies.”

Trudy nodded, surprised by the strange longing she felt in her chest. She wasn’t sure what she was longing for: wanting in on the easy camaraderie Eve and Freya shared or having the love and satisfaction Freya had with her family. Maybe both.

Which was odd. She’d never wanted any of it. What was happening to her?

Eve’s eyes widened, her gaze going beyond Trudy’s shoulder. “Oh my.”

As Trudy and Freya turned to see what they were looking at, from right behind her, a man’s voice said, “Hey, little girl, want to sit on my lap?”

Trudy spun around in her seat and faced Mason in a Santa Claus costume. “You’re lucky I recognized you, because I might have kicked you in your goody sack.”

Eve and Freya laughed.

“I
am
pretty lucky.” Grinning, Mason kissed her.

His fluffy white beard tickled her cheeks, and she put a hand to one. He wasn’t supposed to meet her this early, and she tried to mind him crashing her private time but she was too happy to see him.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Can I buy Santa a drink?”

“Something cold. It’s hot in here.” He smiled at Eve as Trudy ordered him a drink. “Trudy’s just trying to get me to move her from my naughty list to nice. What she doesn’t know is that I like her naughty.”

Eve chuckled. “I’d bet that she has a good idea that you do.”

Freya leaned across the counter and put her hand on Trudy’s arm. “Has Olivia gotten to you yet? Because you should visit her.”

“Olivia owns Romantic Notions,” Eve clarified. “The lingerie store down the street from the café.”

“I love her,” Mason said fervently as the bartender slid a mojito toward him.

“But she’s evil,” Trudy added.

Freya and Eve laughed. “Olivia definitely got to her,” Freya said, holding up her drink. “To evil panties.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Mason lifted his drinks and toasted along with them.

He hung out and chatted with them for a while before he took Trudy’s hand and said, “Gertrude, are you ready for your date with destiny?”

“My destiny is a paunchy guy in a beard?” she asked, brows raised.

“It’s what’s under the paunch that counts, babe.” He smiled at Eve and Freya. “Would one of you mind taking a picture of the young lady sitting on my lap?”

“Me.” Freya stuck her hand out for the phone.

“By the fireplace, don’t you think?” Mason led her toward the tiled fireplace, pulling a chair closer and sitting down. He patted his leg.