You Own My Heart (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 4)

Honey shook the unwanted memories from her mind and glanced up at the house, noting the twinkling lights from the front windows, and the large Christmas tree in the front room. In her experience, family get-togethers usually turned into drunken, drug-infused messes that left everyone wishing they were somewhere else. The last Thanksgiving she’d spent with her mother was still fresh in her mind. The utter failure of it all, bitter in her mouth.

Even after all this time.

For one hard second, panic gripped her, and she dug her fingers into her palms. What the hell was she thinking coming here with Nash? She should have stayed at her place, curled up on the crappy sofa she’d found abandoned on the sidewalk outside the Coach House, eating her burnt Kraft dinner.

“You ready?” Nash grabbed the wine and stepped outside. Childishly, she wanted to tell him to go ahead and she’d walk back to the Coach House on her own. But she knew Nash. He was as pigheaded as she was, and he wouldn’t let her. And right now? She didn’t have the energy to fight.

Honey slid from the Jeep and followed him through the gate and white picket fence (of course the house had a white picket fence). Nash opened the front door and waited for her to step inside.

They stood in a large, wide foyer, a classic design that fit the house. The narrow windows on either side of the double front door were stained glass, and the floors were worn oak and polished to gleam. A clean lemon scent tickled the edge of her nostrils, fighting with the overwhelming scents of the holidays. There was a wide staircase that led to the upper level, and on her right stood a formal living room, to her left, a dining room already set for dinner. She heard a lot of chatter coming from the back of the house and a truckload of heavenly smells wafted in the air.

Turkey. Ham. Cinnamon. Fresh pine.

“Let me take your jacket.” Nash took her coat and hung it up on a rack by the stairs. Her gaze lingered on the markings carved into the trim near the entrance to the front room. There were three distinct colors, black, blue, and red. And the etchings started near the bottom and ended at different heights.

“My mom is a sucker for this kind of stuff.” Nash followed her gaze, and she watched him trace the markings, her eyes taking every inch of him in. He was one hell of a looker. No doubt about that. Tall. Broad. Rock-hard abs. His hair was thick with a slight wave, his handsome face sported a strong square chin, slightly crooked nose, and intense dark eyes. To top it off his smile was killer. She’d lost count of the women who’d fallen under his spell with just one look. He was the kind of man who broke hearts. The kind of man only a fool would tangle with, and Honey was no fool. A) She didn’t believe in love or relationships. And B) Even if she did, there was no point. In a few months, she’d be gone. Hopefully on her way to Florida and Simone.

All that being said, she was still a woman and could appreciate a fine-looking man.

Honey had never seen Nash dressed like this. He was always in jeans and a T-shirt. This right here was a good look on him. The dark slacks, formal shirt, and…she blinked…a Batman tie? How had she missed that in her apartment? His dark hair waved around his collar, and the stubble on his chin and jaw gave him an edge he didn’t need. He was already dangerous.

He glanced up quickly, and she cleared her throat, eyes on the markings. “Who’s the blue one?”

“That would be me.” He pointed to the black. “This is my brother Cam. I’ve only got an inch on him. And this…” He pointed to the red, which was at least a foot lower than the other two. “This is my sister, Melody.” He chuckled. “She’s always been height challenged.”

“I didn’t realize there were so many of you.” She was coming to the realization there was probably a lot she didn’t know about Nash. But then, they didn’t have the type of relationship where they shared things. Hell, she wasn’t even sure he liked her all that much. Nash Booker was her boss and her landlord, and that was about it.

God. She cursed her weak moment. She didn’t belong here. So why the hell had she accepted his invitation? More importantly, why the hell had he asked her?

“Melody lives out of state, but she flew in last night.”

“And your brother?” She was curious. He’d never mentioned a brother before.

Nash shrugged, his tone a bit cooler. “Cam’s all over the place. Never know where he’s gonna land or when he’ll show his face.”

Honey waited a moment. “Sounds a lot like you.”

His face darkened. “Trust me, Cam is nothing like me.”

Huh. There was something there. An undercurrent of discord. It made Honey wonder, but she didn’t get to wonder for long. Just then, a little boy ran around the corner. “Uncle Nash!” The kid didn’t stop, and Nash scooped him up into a bear hug before he crashed into his legs.

“Tink. Let me look at you, buddy.”

Nash set the kid down and ruffled the top of his head. It was a head filled with thick, dark curls that bounced all over the place—a testament to the little boy’s excitement. Honey pegged him at about four years of age, which wasn’t saying much since she didn’t know jack about kids.

The little guy looked up at his uncle, and Honey hid a smile. They were dressed almost exactly the same, right down to the miniature Batman tie.

“I wore it. See?” Tink yanked on the tie and held it up with a smile. He shoved at the wide-rimmed glasses on his face and wiped at his nose. The kid was cute as hell, and the adoration he felt for his uncle was plain to see. “Hattie got her snot on it, but that’s okay, right?”

Nash chuckled. “We’ll get that cleaned up.”

The little boy noticed Honey and frowned, cocking his head to the side as he studied her. “Are you Uncle Nash’s girlfriend?”

“What?” Eyes wide, Honey smoothed the plain black sweater she’d worn over equally plain black tights tucked into her boots and shook her head. “

No. I…” She cleared her throat. “I work for your uncle.”

“Oh.” He grinned. “You’re pretty.”