Kissmas Wishes (Love In All Seasons 3)

“Don’t shoot,” Sugar says. “Or I will.”

I pull in a sharp breath, feeling the cold metal of my own gun in my back pocket. This sure as hell wasn't how the morning was supposed to go.

“What are you doing?” Rizz shouts. “Put that away.”

Sugar steps forward, a small silver gun in her hand. I had no idea she carried heat. Then my heart pounds with love and a deep desire to protect her

at all costs. My girl has had to fend for herself for so damn long. It’s wrong for her to fight for me now.

This is my battle and I will do the dirty work.

I pull out my gun, not afraid to shoot. These fuckers want to mess with my girl, they gotta get through me.SugarSmith moves in front of me, and suddenly the world seems to spin. All five of us stand here with guns raised, and the idea of losing Smith is too awful to bear.

In my other hand is Smith’s phone. I hold it up. “I will call 911. Don’t you dare tempt me.”

“This how it’s gonna be, Sis?” Rizz asks. “You think you turning me in on Christmas is the way to fix our problems?”

“It’s better than making me a prisoner to some MC lord,” I say, my words tight, but my voice clear. No more cowering to my bully of a brother. This is my life and I’m not going to lose it.

Just then a cougar darts from the woods, catching Rizz, PJ, and Rimmed off guard. I shriek, as Smith points and shoots, the cougar hissing as a bullet grazes it’s back. Three more come from the tree line, as if waiting to pounce.

Rimmed shoots at the cat, but misses, hitting PJ instead. Smith pushes me behind his hulking frame. “I can’t lose you, Sugar. I love you too damn much.”

The cats hiss wildly, teeth bared, my heart pounding. “You love me?” I ask as he raises an arm of protection over me.

“So damn bad. Now go inside and call the cops.”

I dart in the door, calling 911 as I watch through the window. Rizz blasts his gun at another pair of cats, misses, as he slips on the icy snow. Just as a cat is about to jump on him, Smith shoots the animal, kicking Rizz’s gun away in the process.

Now, all three of them are disarmed, and two of them are bleeding out. My brother may have broken a bone because he is clutching his leg and moaning loudly. I tell the operator that there’s been an emergency and Smith’s bullets penetrate the cougars, leaving all four of them dead in their tracks.

Smith grabs a rope from the porch and begins to hog tie my brother and his besties, as I pull on a winter parka and slip my feet in oversized boots. Outside, teeth chattering, I wipe the tears away.

“You were going to kill him?” I shout at my brother. “You are a monster. I should have run a long time ago.”

Rizz’s leg certainly is broken, and my stomach rolls as I see the bone poking through his skin, blood seeping on the pure white snow of Christmas morning.

Before he can lash out at me, an ambulance roars up the driveway, a fire engine and police vehicles following close behind.

Smith wraps an arm around me, and I cry against his chest as an officer questions us.

I try to explain, but it’s hard for me to focus. Not because my brother is finally going to be permanently out of my life, but because Smith’s words are still ringing in my ears. I love you.

“You’re okay, Sugar,” Smith says, his warm breath on my cheek. “I got you.”

“I was so close to losing you… I couldn’t bear it…” Hot tears fall down my face. “I love you too, Smith. Which is crazy but--”

“The perfect gift at Christmas,” he finishes, kissing me tenderly, the way my broken heart needs. His kisses seem to put me back together.

“Ma’am, we need to ask you some more questions,” the officer says. Smith leads us inside and I sit down, as Smith moves to the kitchen.

“What do you need to know?” I ask. There are two officers sitting with me. Outside, my brother, PJ, and Rimmed are being carried into an ambulance on stretchers. Tears burn my eyes. But not at seeing them laid out like that but at the reality that for so long I forfeited my life to those men. Shame runs through me. But also, gratitude.

“We had a call early this morning from a motel owner about three women who were there in bad shape, who needed a women’s shelter.”

“Let me guess. Trudy, Jocelyn, and Sarai?”

The officer nods as Smith walks in with a tray of hot cocoa. Each mug has a candy cane. My heart overflows with love for this man. This man who is a walking Christmas gift. A living breathing present.