How the Hitman Stole Christmas

That’s a sobering thought.

Autumn flashes to mind, all that hope in her eyes when we were in bed last night.

She all but asked me to keep her.

I did plan to make her mine right from the moment I decided to take her, but…

I didn’t know then how it would feel to actually care about her. I didn’t expect her to get under my skin.

When I first took Autumn, I imagined enjoying her for a time, but I didn’t expect to connect emotionally. I never had before with any of the women I met in more traditional ways, and ours was an exceptionally atypical courtship, so I never dreamed I’d get attached to her.

She’d be nice to have around for a while—a warm body, a temporary cure for the loneliness—and when that had run its course, we’d both move on.

I figured it would be easy. Easier for me than her, probably, but that’s turning out to be bullshit.

Touching her may have been a mistake, because now I can’t stop. Even walking into this den, being a room away from her, mildly annoys me.

I’ve never felt so possessive over a girlfriend before. The idea of her being attracted to anyone but me chafes in a way I’m not used to.

And it hurts me to disappoint her, to see her sad or upset. What the fuck is that all about? When she asked that question last night, I knew I should tell her that yes, having a family with me would be impossible, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t kill her hopes, even if it was the right thing to do.

I’ve never experienced any of this before.

Sure, I’ve liked the girlfriends that came before her, but it’s completely different with Autumn. The way I’m starting to feel toward her, it’s more like she’s my family than some guest star in my life.

Maybe this week has fucked with my head. Seeing her here with my mom and sister, woven into the fabric of my family, caring about Uncle Arlo, and hanging out with my sister and her boyfriend like that’s normal…

That’s it. That’s gotta be it.

It’s just Stillwater. If we were in Chicago, maybe she’d just be any other girl, but I brought her home with me.

I guess we convinced more than just my family that I’m serious about Autumn.

Tarek stands when I enter the room, drawing my thoughts to the present moment.

“Hey, there you are,” he says.

“Nora said you were looking for me.”

He nods, brushing his hands against the side of his pants a bit nervously. “Yeah. Do you have a minute?”

“Autumn’s making breakfast. I have a few.”

Tom stands now, looking from Tarek to me. “I’ll leave you to it.”

I don’t say anything. My gaze flickers in Tom’s direction as he makes a quick exit, then returns to Tarek.

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. His nervousness makes me suspicious. Typically, in my world, when a man is this fucking nervous, something is very wrong.

“What’s going on?” I ask, cutting right to the chase. “You got some kind of problem?”

Tarek’s eyes widen slightly. “Problem? No, there’s no problem.”

“You look like a man with a problem.”

That seems to surprise him. He laughs nervously, dropping my gaze and turning around awkwardly before finally sitting down on the edge of the leather couch. “You want to sit down?”

“I’m all right to stand.”

Since I refused to do the polite thing and make him more comfortable, his awkwardness grows. He doesn’t want to sit on the couch if I’m going to stand here, so after a few seconds, he gets back to his feet.

Tension fills the air as he shifts from one foot to the other. I fucking hate the hemming and hawing—he needs to just tell me what’s going on so I can figure out how to deal with it.

“I want to marry your sister,” he blurts.

I blink, rocking back about a half step. “What?”

Tarek sighs. “I know she doesn’t really have a father. Your mom might be married to Tom, but Nora doesn’t look at him that way, and she doesn’t know her real dad. From what she’s told me, you’re the closest thing she’s ever had to that role, so… I wanted to go the traditional route and ask her father before I proposed tonight, but… I thought it might make sense to ask you.”

This is not at all what I was expecting. I don’t really know how to respond to it. “You could have asked our mom,” I say, trying to feel my way around the situation.

“I could have,” he says carefully. “I know Audra seems to have it together now, but while they have a certain kind of relationship now that Nora’s an adult, from what she’s told me about her childhood…” He’s uncomfortable talking about a family that isn’t his yet, so he tries to be as delicate as possible. “It sounds like you raised her, no one else.”