Gift Wrapped (11 page)

He might not be aware of that fact. However, they were about to spend several hours in close proximity with her family. The three people she loved most in the world. Also the three who knew her the best.

She’d escaped a barrage of questions back at the hospital because the focus was on her dad. On getting home to enjoy the holiday together. That window had closed, and when the door to the McIntyre house opened…well. It wouldn’t take her family long to figure out that she was quite smitten with her new “friend.” Then it’d be interrogation time, for sure.

“This one?” Davis asked, indicating the final turn of their journey.

“Yup, this is it. My old stomping grounds.”

He whistled while cruising slowly down the quiet residential street. “People in this neighborhood sure do like Christmas decorations.”

“You should see the street after dark, when all the lights are on. It’s amazing.”

He glanced over at her. “You’re really into this holiday stuff.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?
It’s the most wonderful time of the year…
” she sang, rocking sideways to bump his shoulder.

His robust laugh filled the car. “Are you always like this?”

“Moderately off-key?”

He looked at her again, smiling and shaking his head. “Adorable. Completely fucking adorable.”

Thumpity bumpity
, there went her heart again.

“There it is.” She pointed toward the only place that’d ever felt like home. “Number forty-seven, that little brick bungalow up on the right.”

“Got it.” Davis chuckled while pulling into the driveway, behind Zack’s car. “How many kids does your brother have?”

“None. He doesn’t even have a steady girlfriend. Why do you ask, because he drives an old-man sedan?” She followed Davis’s gaze to the six-foot-wide Santa’s sleigh on the front yard. “Oh, that. I’ve looked at it for so many years, I guess it’s lost its visual impact.”

He looked at her, one eyebrow cocked. “I’m not sure how that’s possible.”

“You’re right,” she said, giving her dad’s festive masterpiece her full, renewed attention. “I just haven’t taken the time to appreciate it the past few years.”

Beside her, Davis laughed again. “Guess it’s safe to assume your parents really love Christmas. How long have they been putting that thing out?”

“Since I was in eighth grade, so that’s…fifteen years.”

“Lots of mileage on that sleigh.”

“True, but it’s still magical.”

“I’m going to have to take your word on that one. Christmas stuff doesn’t do much for me.”

Oh boy. Indifference about the wonder of the season would never do. Especially before walking into her parents’ house.

She collected her bag from the floor and opened her door. “Come on, Mr. Scrooge, I’ve got a story to tell you. Outside. You obviously need a big dose of holiday magic.”

“Good luck with that,” he said, joining her on the white-blanketed yard. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched her fingers move over the smooth, weathered curves of the painted plywood. He held his position, but his eyes widened some when she used the running board to climb into the sleigh.

“Want to get in?”

He answered with a grunt, though a hint of a smile did tug at the corners of his mouth. “Think I’ll pass.”

“It’ll hold your weight, if you’re worried.” She slid across the cold bench seat, patting the vacant spot at her side. “If it can hold my dad along with any number of kids, you and I won’t break it.”

“Still a no. You’re flying solo for this ride, babe.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

One eyebrow rose, and his semi-smile curved into a wholly sexy grin. “I’m not sure that old sleigh can handle the kind of adventure we’d give it if I joined you in there.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. Even when she’d had boyfriends in high school, she’d never so much as kissed a boy while sitting in this sleigh. Now her head was full of much more explicit acts. Things that would definitely land her on the naughty list—permanently.

“Save your distractions for later,” she said, fanning herself with one hand.

“Will do.”

She just bet he would. And she’d love every minute of his distraction techniques, but right now she had some Christmas magic to spread his way.

“So. The story of the magical sleigh. I was thirteen and had recently started babysitting. Not actual babies, just younger kids. Walking them home from school, watching them for a few hours here and there, stuff like that. One of the kids I babysat was a seven-year-old boy who lived down the street. He got cancer. It was very aggressive, and within months of the diagnosis, Tyrone was at home, receiving end-of-life care.”

“Shit. I can’t imagine.”

“It was pretty awful, especially because Christmas was only a couple weeks away. He was determined to see Santa one last time, because he had something really important to ask for. But his health deteriorated really fast. Taking him out to a mall wasn’t an option.”

“Poor kid.”

She nodded. So many years ago, yet she remembered it as if it had all happened yesterday. “My dad built this sled and rented the best Santa suit he could find. He has the physique for the part, as you’ve seen, so once he got the beard and everything in place, he even had
me
convinced. It was snowing lightly that Christmas Eve, and every single house on the street was lit up with tons of multicolored lights—all for Tyrone. It was the most beautiful sight, like a winter wonderland. The boy’s parents wrapped him in a blanket and carried him out to visit Santa in the shiny red sleigh, parked on their front lawn. Tyrone got his wish that night.”

Davis had moved closer during the telling, and now stood beside the sleigh, his hands curled over the edge. “That’s an incredible thing your dad did.”

“A magical thing.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

She hadn’t inspired Davis to spontaneously sing a Christmas song, but she considered the admission a small victory in the spirit-of-the-season department.

“What happened to the little boy?”

“He passed away that evening, in his sleep.” She shimmied across the seat, accepting Davis’s hand as she stepped down. “My dad has been dressing up as Santa and entertaining the neighborhood kids in this sleigh every year since.”

“Do they realize it’s Mr. McIntyre in a costume, or do they think he’s the real deal?”

“Some of each, I imagine, depending on their age,” she said, looking at him as they walked up the path. “I don’t think it matters. They always leave smiling, just like Tyrone did.” She turned the handle and pushed the front door open, gasping when Davis snagged her around the waist, preventing her from entering.

“You can’t go in yet, you forgot something.”

She’d left out several details of the story, but Davis had no way of knowing that. She patted her pocket—cell phone where it should be. Keys too. A glance at the ground revealed nothing had escaped from her purse. “Nope, I think I have everything.”

Davis caught her beneath the chin and gently tipped her head up. “Mistletoe.”

“Actually, it’s a ball of plastic holly—”

“Semantics,” he said, silencing her with a kiss that made her tingle all the way to the toes she now stood on.

Arms wrapped around his neck, she pressed every possible inch of her body tight against his. Each time their lips meshed, warnings rang in her head.
Casual date, not a relationship. No future. Don’t get attached.

“God, I could get used to that.” The whispered comment slipped out as they separated, proving once again that her mouth was synced to her emotions, not her brain.

“I couldn’t. I could kiss you a hundred times and never get used to the softness of your lips. The breathy little sounds you make when my tongue touches yours.”

Panties—melted. Heart—stolen. “I’m in favor of testing that hypothesis.” There, she’d done it. She could barely breathe, but she’d hung it out there, let him know she wanted more time with him.

* * *

“Who’s letting all the cold air in the house?” Brinn’s mother called from somewhere within the house.

The pretty blonde in Davis’s arms sighed and pressed her forehead against his chest.

“Are you expecting more company today?” He kept his voice neutral, but inwardly, he cringed. He could handle a few festivity-packed hours with the four members of the McIntyre family. However, if a whack of cousins, grandparents and shit were due for arrival, he might have to manufacture a getaway excuse.

“Nobody else, it’s just us. That was code for ‘get your butts in here.’”

“Guess we’d better do that.”

Brinn muttered something under her breath, then slipped free of their clinch. “Sorry, Mom,” she called, while shutting the door. She shrugged out of her jacket and hung it in a small closet, then motioned for him to do the same.

Once the coats were stowed, he followed her deeper into the house. A bungalow, but with a different layout from the one he owned. Bedrooms and a small bathroom at the front here. The center hall ended at the kitchen-dining room combo. Beyond that, they passed through a wide arch leading to a nice-sized living room. Or it might be, if it hadn’t been significantly consumed by an enormous Christmas tree. The thing had to be ten feet in diameter at the bottom.

Everywhere he looked, his eyes landed on more decorations. Lights, candles, wreaths, you name it. Nothing too cheesy, but whoa. Sensory overload in progress.

Brinn’s brother rose from a chair, hand extended. “Hey. Nice to officially meet you. I’m Zack, the big brother.”

“And resident ass-kicker when necessary, I’m told.”

Zack snorted while shaking Davis’s hand. “Only a couple times. Though I do have one in the queue. Figured I’d swing by the jerk’s place and have a chat with him when I’m there helping Brinn clear out of her apartment.”

Davis turned toward Brinn, who’d settled on the end of an overstuffed blue sofa. “You’re moving?”

She nodded while shooting an annoyed glance at her brother. “Sometime after the holidays. I’m transferring to another store. In a different city.”

Well, hell. After the holidays meant January, which was only a week away. “Where are you going?”

“Not sure yet. But my supervisor isn’t likely to let me go to another district, so odds are it’ll be in her territory, somewhere along the 401-West corridor.”

That chunk of geography covered a lot of kilometers. Once she relocated, Brinn might be an hour from his place, or three. Regardless, there was a good possibility he’d never see her again after the move. Unfortunate, because he liked her, and they had great chemistry. But the news also brought relief—for the same reasons.

He’d already taken things further than intended. Being by her side during a potential crisis, joining her family on the most relationship-centric day of the year. Not what he’d signed up for when he’d invited her over last night. He didn’t regret doing those things, though. Hell, he was actually in a good mood. On Christmas Day.

He wanted to see her again—he’d decided that when she fell asleep in his arms. But, as she’d informed him back at the parking garage, she wasn’t a casual-sex kind of woman. He hadn’t needed the clarification. Everything about her screamed “steady girlfriend.” He just didn’t want one of those, even one as sexy and cute as Brinn.

Knowing they had a predetermined ending changed things.

He snapped out of it when Brinn stood. She smiled at him, skating her fingernails across his midsection as she brushed past. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to help in the kitchen for a little bit.”

“Think I’d better tag along for that. I might learn something.”

Brinn’s laugh drew attention from her mother, currently removing a turkey from the refrigerator. “I love that sound. Wish I got to hear it more often.” She plunked the shrink-wrapped bird on the counter and gave her daughter a quick hug and release. “Davis, you go sit and relax with the men. Brinn and I have things covered in here.”

“I’m sure that’s true. Brinn showed me how skilled she is in the kitchen just last night, at my house.” As he’d hoped, a rich blush swept across Brinn’s face. Blood rushed to his cock as fast as it had to her cheeks, forcing him to use the old hands-in-the-pockets method of adjustment.

This trick wasn’t lost on Brinn. Her gaze dropped, following the movement of his hands beneath the denim. “It’s good that Davis isn’t in the mood to sit and relax. We can put his expert hands to work for us.”

“Expert hands?” Gwyneth’s eyebrows rose.

“Very.” Brinn smiled and reached for him, tugging at his wrists until his hands popped free, leaving his bulge front and center. “Davis is a chef. Not a line cook, an honest-to-god chef in a swanky restaurant. That’s the real reason I invited him along today. Let’s put him to work. His meat is delicious.”

Oh man. He shook his head at her. The big blue eyes, juicy-lipped smile and blonde curls gave her such an innocent look. But the dirty mind behind her sweet features…damn. First opportunity he got, he’d give her another taste of his meat.

“Well, Davis.” Gwyneth wiped her hands on the towel over her shoulder. “You’re our guest, and I would never ask a guest to do anything besides have a good time. That said, if you’d like to take control in the kitchen, I’m happy to hand over the reins. And the turkey.”

Brinn winked at him. No comment required. He had a damn good idea what was going through her pretty head. And he liked it. Very much.

“I’m happy to do it. Go put your feet up and relax. Brinn and I will take care of the food.”

“After the morning I’ve had, I’ll take that offer. Thank you,” Gwyneth said, giving him a motherly pat on the arm as she handed off the dishtowel, then left the room.

He moved to the sink and washed up. “Your turn, kitchen wench,” he said, snapping Brinn across the ass with the damp dishtowel.

She jumped. Shrieked a little, smiled a lot. But she didn’t obey. “First things first. I need eggnog.”

He stifled a groan when the top half of her body disappeared behind the refrigerator door, leaving him with a view of her upturned ass.

“Want some?”

Hell, yes, he wanted some. Until she retreated from the fridge with a carton in her hand. “No way. You can’t drink that.”