Her First Noel

I nod and he nods back.

“Okay, that’s settled and in the past. We have a future to get to.”

He shoots me that masculine, dazzling smile, and gets out of the car, coming around to open my door.

As I take his hand, the cool night makes me shiver even as heat is gathering between my legs. I still feel the aftereffects of his mouth there, and the magic it created. Just thinking of it has me on the edge of another orgasm and I have to tighten my inner muscles to stave off the little yelp that gathers in my throat.

He lowers a hand to the center of my back and I feel the possessiveness in his touch. No one is around but it feels like he’s protecting me from any danger that could be lurking. We walk together up the few steps to the massive wooden front door where he punches a code into the lock and it clicks open, then his hand moves to mine and he pulls me inside, closing the door with a thick hard thunk behind me.

Inside, he takes my coat and my purse and sets them on a side table in the foyer. There’s warm, understated hardwood and modern art on display everywhere, but the house is full on Christmas, and Cole watches as I turn left and right, taking in every decoration, every scrap of tinsel and every light.

“I never had Christmas growing up,” he says as he takes my hand again. He leads me through a great room with soaring ceilings and a wall of windows that overlook a sprawling backyard, twinkling with lights on every tree. “I don’t know if your father ever told you about anything about me?”

“A little. Just that you guys met on a job when you were just starting out.”

“Yeah, I was just out of prison. I didn’t make great choices when I was younger. Robbed a liquor store to try to pay the rent for my mother, who drank most of her monthly government check. Anyway, I did six months and vowed when I got out things would be different. While I was inside, they put me on this construction rehabilitation program. I took out my anger with the hammer instead of my fists. A few years after I got out, I was working on this apartment complex they were building and your dad was there too. From there, it’s history. We became friends, started Remington with a few thousand we scraped together and now here we are. A decade later and I don’t have to worry about the rent getting paid.”

“Where’s your mom?”

He tips his head back and forth. “I took care of her for years after I got out. Once things took off with the business I got her a place, tried to get her help. She didn’t change much, and I decided it wasn’t my job to change her, so I did what I could. She passed away from cancer about seven years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs. “Thanks. It was her life. She chose to live it the way she did. I just choose differently.”

He spins me around, putting his hands on my hips, and I swallow at the way his gaze turns dark.

“Are you sure about all this?” I bite into my bottom lip, feeling his hands on my wide hips. “I mean, you could have anyone. Amanda might not be your thing, but there are swimsuit models, ballerinas, the daughters of billionai—”

He cuts me off with shake of his head and a snarl. “I don’t want them. I want you.” His eyes narrow. “And what’s the deal with you and Amanda? I thought you were friends, but you both act like it’s pistols at dawn or something.”

“Did she tell you we were friends?” I can barely believe what I’m hearing.

He shakes his head. “Your dad thought…”

“He’s heard that from my mom. She got it into her head after Amanda moved in across the street from her that…” I sigh. “Amanda is not my friend. When my dad moved me and my mom out here, I started at the best school he could get me into. I thought it was going to be amazing, but being the new girl sucked. Amanda was already popular, even back then, all the boys wanted her and that made all the girls want to be her friend. I didn’t care about any of that. Boys, I mean. I think she resented that I didn’t hang on her every word, and that’s why she started being mean. Or, she’s just mean.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. She’s nothing compared to you.”

I meet his eyes. I want him, I want to believe, but it all still feels unreal. He’s not someone I thought would ever look at a voluptuous geeky girl like me. He looks more like the type that would have ten Amanda’s on call at any time, day or night. She’s a Barbie Doll and I’m a Cabbage Patch Kid.