Unexpected Gifts

Copyright © Bronwyn Green

All Rights Reserved.

Cover Art by Kris Norris

Unexpected Gifts

Bronwyn Green

To Mama – no matter how much or how little we
had, you always made sure each Christmas was one we’d remember.

To all the readers out there – Happy
Holidays, and thanks so much for making it possible for writers
everywhere to continue to do what they love.

To Jess and Kris. Thank you for always being
amazing.

Chapter One

“You lied! On
Christmas Eve
.”

Cassie Williams stood there with her heart in her
throat as she stared at the snowflakes clinging to the eyelashes of
her visitor. Bright blue eyes had captured her gaze, and it was all
she could do to break contact. She shoved the front door, letting
it slam shut in the face of her guest.

She should have known her mother would send someone
over to check on her. Why did it have to be Sam of all people? Sam
MacLane had been a pain in her ass since the summer she’d turned
thirteen. Her brother’s best friend for life, it seemed, and part
of the family. Hell, her mother had even knitted him his own
stocking and still hung it up every year with the rest of the
family’s.

The door shook as he pounded on it. “C’mon, Cass.
Open up. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

She pressed her forehead against the cool wood.
She’d wanted to just be left alone to lick her wounds. She sighed,
the sooner she let him in to drop off whatever her mother had
insisted on sending, the sooner he’d leave her be. Twisting the
doorknob, she tugged open the door.

A thick dusting of snow covered his hair and
shoulders, and he shook his head, spraying snowflakes everywhere.
She scowled at him, brushing the dampness off her arms. His
brilliant blue eyes met hers, and he grinned, accenting his dimples
in the dark stubble covering his face. The sight of that killer
smile aimed at her punched her in the stomach. He’d always been too
gorgeous for her own good.

She’d developed a monster crush on him the moment he
and his family had moved in next door. Fifteen years later, and she
still hadn’t been able to shake the damn thing. Of course, now, it
was less girlish crush and more straight up lust. It didn’t matter,
though. Nothing would ever come of it.

“So, can I come in, or are you planning to let me
freeze to death on your doorstep?”

Ignoring the blush that heated her cheeks, she
opened the door wider and gestured for him to step inside. Glancing
beyond him, she noticed how much snow had piled up in the last
couple of hours. Good thing she’d gone grocery shopping the day
before. It was getting ugly out there.

Turning her attention to Sam, she followed him into
the kitchen where he’d begun unpacking the huge box her mother had
sent.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “So, what gave
me away?”

“No glassy eyes, red, swollen nose or blotchy skin.”
He handed her a Tupperware bowl. “You’ve got homemade chicken soup
here,” he said, slowly scanning the length of her body before
meeting her gaze, again. “Though you clearly don’t need it.”

She shoved the container into the fridge. “You can
stop being a jerk any time, now.”

“I could.” He winked at her. “But, I think we both
know I probably won’t.”

Her lips quirked, but she tried to hide the
smile.

He was right. He wouldn’t stop being a jerk. He was
the same guy he’d always been. When they were kids, he was the guy
who’d teased her mercilessly. But, he was also the same guy who’d
made sure no one else ever picked on her. Just like another big
brother. He was also the same guy who’d convinced his parents to
let her entire family move in with them while their house was being
repaired from the fire damage that had taken out their garage and
damaged her bedroom. Not just her bedroom—pretty much every last
thing that had been in it, including her book collection. And he
was the same guy who’d offered her his collection of comic books to
read while the house was being repaired. She’d ended up being
incredibly well-versed in Marvel and DC comics. To this day, the
X-Men were still her favorite. She smiled at the memory.

“So, what’s the real reason you bailed?” he asked,
bringing her back to the present and holding her motionless with
his gaze.

The faints traces of her smile faded as soon as his
question hit the air. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat.
She wasn’t about to admit to Sam that she’d been feeling too sorry
for herself to go have fun with her family. “It’s not up for
discussion.”

He studied her for a moment then pulled out a
tinfoil covered plate from the box and peeled back the covering.
“Cookie? Fudge?”

He snagged a piece of fudge from the plate and bit
into it, closing his eyes and groaning. The ragged sound settled
deep in her womb, filling her with impotent longing. She forced
herself to take a step away from him. Rounding the counter, she
reached into the box to unpack the rest of whatever her mother had
sent. Under a loaf of what could only be cinnamon bread was a pile
of presents in brightly colored wrapping paper.

Sam gently knocked her hand away. “Uh-uh. Those are
for Christmas morning.” Taking the box, he wandered into the living
room then the dining room and back to the kitchen. “Where’s your
tree?”

“I didn’t put one up this year.”

He laid his carpentry-rough hand across her
forehead. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are sick.”

“Funny.” She shook off his touch. “I just didn’t
feel like it this year.”

“In high school, you put up a Christmas tree in your
bedroom every year right after Thanksgiving dinner, because you
insisted that the family tree wasn’t up long enough for you to
enjoy.”

She shrugged. “Things change.”

He frowned, set the box back onto the counter and
stared at her, looking as though he was weighing his words very
carefully. He finally shook his head and said, “Not really.”

“What do you mean?”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and
she tried not to shiver at his touch. “They don’t really change.
For instance, Tyler is still the asshole he always was. Just
because you know about it now doesn’t make it a new
development.”

She supposed he was right. Just because she’d been
blind to the fact that Tyler was a jerk for the bulk of their
relationship didn’t mean that he’d suddenly turned into a lying,
cheating man-whore. He’d always been one; she’d just been
stupid.

“And you’re still the person who wants to see the
best in everyone. Except maybe me.”

Cassie couldn’t have kept her gaze from straying to
his face if she’d wanted to. He looked completely sincere… Until he
chuckled.

“And I’m still the guy that’s wanted you for
years.”

Her heart clutched as his words registered, but she
shook off the sensation.

“Whatever,” she muttered. He wasn’t serious. He was
never serious. That was another thing that didn’t change.

He frowned at her and took a step closer. “What do
you mean, ‘whatever’?”

It was hard to breathe when he was this close. Even
though she knew he didn’t mean what he’d just said, she wanted to
pretend he did. Instead, she straightened and busied herself with
resealing the foil over the fudge and trying to put words to what
she was feeling.

“I mean, you’ve made your point about Tyler,” she
finally managed. “And you’re right. I admit it. But you don’t need
to joke around about the rest of it.” She glanced up at him.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed briefly
together. “Maybe I was wrong about you wanting to see the best in
people. You certainly don’t seem inclined to even attempt to see it
in me.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was hurt.
But, this was Sam. He’d always been impervious to her verbal
jabs.

He stared at her, intensity glowing in his eyes. She
swallowed thickly, feeling as though she was standing entirely too
close to him. Before she could take a step back, he lowered his
head and brushed his lips across hers. It was the barest
touch—hardly a kiss at all—but her breath stalled in her throat all
the same.

Sam slid a hand around the back of her neck and
urged her closer, his mouth opening against hers as he deepened the
kiss. Her lips parted, welcoming him inside. He tasted of coffee
and dark chocolate. Her head spun as his lips caressed hers, the
sensation stealing her breath. She couldn’t believe Sam was kissing
her. She’d fantasized about this moment more often than she cared
to admit. Actually, her fantasies never ended with a kiss. They
didn’t end until he’d fucked her so hard she could barely remember
her own name, and she came imagining that her fingers were his.

His free hand settled at her waist, and he dragged
her closer. Her hands lifted and clutched the front of his jacket,
damp with melting snow. The chilly wetness against her skin brought
everything rushing back—skipping out on family Christmas, Sam
showing up on her doorstep… This wasn’t one of her fantasies. This
was Sam. Actually kissing her. Trying to prove a point.

Turning her head to the side, she broke the kiss and
pushed at his chest.

He tried to lift her chin. “What’s the matter,
Cassie-girl?”

Positive she didn’t want to take this even one step
further, she backed away from him and glanced at the clock. “Thank
you for bringing everything by. You should probably get going. The
way the snow’s coming down, you’re going to have a long drive back
home.”

He continued to stare at her, his expression
concerned. “Cass? What is it?”

“Nothing,” she lied, crossing her arms over her
chest and fixing her gaze on a spot over his left shoulder. “I’ve
got a bunch of paperwork to go through for work. I’ll see you
around.” Doing paperwork on Christmas Eve for a school library that
would remain closed until January was probably the lamest lie she
could have come up with. Without waiting for him to respond, she
walked to the front door and opened it. “Merry Christmas,” she
choked out.

Sam looked as confused as she felt. “Wait. We need
to talk.”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk
about.”

“Yeah, there is.”

She finally met his gaze. “No. There isn’t. Now, get
going. It’s snowing like crazy.” A sharp stab of guilt pierced her.
“Text me when you get home so I know you made it okay.”

He nodded but said, “This isn’t over.”

She pushed him into the swirling snow and quickly
shut the door behind him. Through the window, she watched as he
ducked his head while making his way into the blowing wind. He
trudged through the drifts that covered her driveway. Shaking the
snow from his dark brown hair, he got in the cab and started the
engine. The headlights illuminated the thickly falling flakes as he
backed toward the road.

The farther away he got, the greater the urge to
call him back. Which was stupid. He’d been placating her. Trying to
make her feel better. Pity was the last thing she needed.

She peered through the wildly blowing storm, nervous
worry building in her middle. Maybe she should have insisted he
stay. It looked treacherous out there, and blizzards blowing in off
Lake Michigan were nothing to mess around with.

Without warning, the bed of the truck fishtailed and
slid partway down the embankment that bordered the driveway. The
tires spun wildly, kicking up dirt and snow as he tried to regain
purchase. She sighed. There was no way he was getting out of there
without a tow truck. She knew—she’d slid down that same hill more
than once.

Cassie pulled on her boots and stepped out into the
biting cold. The frigid air took her away breath as she slipped and
skidded her way to Sam’s truck.