The Broody Brit: For Christmas ( A Hot Single Father Second Chance Romance) (A Holiday Springs novel)

by MJ Fields

“You’ve come on a man's tongue three times before?”

  “Oh my God.” I giggle, shaking my head.

  He chuckles, and I look up, not caring that I’m embarrassed, because seeing his smile… there’s nothing better in all of Holiday Springs, possibly even the world.

  “I was going to say, had sex.”

  “I’m not going to say that upsets me.” He reaches out his hand, and I take it. Pulling me up, he adds, “But we didn’t actually have sex, not yet.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?” I ask.

  “I want to be the keeper of all of yours,” he says with complete resolve.

  “Until tonight, I hadn't even come once on a man's tongue.”

  He pulls me into a hug, and for some reason, his hug causes a lump to rise in my throat.

  He whispers, “You’ll never come on any other.”

  An hour ago, I would have taken that as a threat, but right now, it feels an awful lot more like a promise.

  Rule Number Thirteen

  Talk Less, Act More

  Raff

  It’s been two hours that Nikki and I have been lying in Nathaniel's bed, talking and laughing. She was amazed at his room and insisted on sleeping on the mattress in the loft because she couldn't wait to wake up in the morning and use the slide to get down.

  This sprung on the conversation that she was concerned that she would get too attached to Nathaniel, and if things didn't work out, she didn't want to be the cause of him being disappointed.

  I push an errant hair from her face. “Then don't disappoint him.”

  “I know you think I’m what you want.” She looks away from me, but I can see the hesitancy in her eyes.

  I turn her face to mine. I need to see her reaction to what I’m about to say. “I don't think, I know. If there were one ounce of doubt, the taste test in my room quite literally would have drowned it. If you need a reminder, I have no problem going down for seconds.”

  Her eye roll has me chuckling. “I think one ruined set of bedding for one night is plenty.”

  I sigh. “Something we can work on. But we can start with you moving out of your aunt and uncles and into the studio. She locked you out, and you were too damn kind to knock on the door and wake your aunt or uncle—”

  “They work on weekends. They will be up at five in the morning. I couldn’t possibly—”

  “Nikki,” I pull her closer, “you were too damn quiet about your treatment in your former life, too.”

  She looks at me. “You mean—”

  “Don't you dare say his name when you’re in my arms. You are worth more than you—”

  “As far as my family goes, I don't want to hurt them or make them feel like they have to choose because they don’t. She is their daughter.”

  “And they raised you as theirs.”

  “I left. She stayed.”

  “I adore that you are that caring, but it’s a safety issue, and I will not sleep if I am worried about you.”

  She looks at me like I’m joking. I’m not.

  To drive the point home, I remind her, “She knew damn well your keys were inside that house. That’s not just bitchy. That’s borderline crazy. What sometimes starts as petty childhood jealousy can morph into something a lot worse. You’ll move in tomorrow.”

  Her body stiffens, and I know damn well I’m pushing, but I also know I’m fucking right.

  She looks at me with fire in her eyes. “Ask me why I freaked out in your car earlier.”

  “I know why you freaked out, same damn reason you will be moving in next door. Your crazy cousin, Ne—”

  “I know you think I can’t handle her, but I can.”

  “Obviously not.”

  She sits up and folds her arms across her chest. “I will admit, some of the things you’ve made me see are spot on. But you don’t know me—”

  I sit up. “I know you pretty damn well, Nikki. I’ve looked into you. I’ve tasted you, for fuck’s sake.”

  “You’ve looked into me?” she huffs, clearly annoyed.

  Sitting up, I tell her the truth, “Damn right, I have. I have a son to consider.”

  “Do you look into everyone you plan to fuck?”

  “You are literally the only woman I’ve ever wanted other than Hope for more than an occasional fuck, so no, just you.”

  “Well, maybe instead of looking into me, you should attempt to get to know me—”

  “What do you think this entire night has been about? What do you think me offering you a job, a place to live, and—”

  “If you’d just looked a little deeper, you’d realize that’s exactly why I left. A man who wanted to control me, and then when he was done, he threw me aside.”

  “And as I told you earlier, he’s no man. I also told you when you were in bed with me that he wasn't to be brought up.”

  “And that’s not fair because I have no problem talking about Hope, anytime, anyplace.”

  “Are you seriously comparing my dead wife to your relationship with your ex? She died, Nikki. She had no choice but to leave me. Your ex chose his mum over you. And if he married you, you would have had a lifetime of sitting in second place.”

  The look on her face told me I had crossed a line. She turns her back to me, lying on her side. I look up at the ceiling, knowing I fucked up.

  Shit. She’s sniffling. I hurt her.

  As I turn toward her, she’s scampering to the slide.

  I quickly jump down and land in front of the yellow tube’s exit as she slides down it.

  The look on her face causes me to step back and give her some space. Still, I need to apologize. “I’m sorry. I was too harsh.”

  “I want to go home.” The rims of her eyes are red.

  “Nikki.” I step forward and pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry.” She sniffs, and I step back. “Red, don’t—”

  “I’d like to be alone. I know we weren’t technically married, but we sort of were. Together for years. Lived under the same roof. Shared a bed. Worked side-by-side.”

  I scratch the back of my neck. “I’d like to talk this out.”

  “You mean keep reminding me that I’m nothing but a pushover.” She stops talking.

  “Nikki, I know what lost feels like, and I also know how to start over and finally breathe again. I can’t explain why, but I need to be the one who—”

  “I’m not your cause,” she snaps in frustration.

  Just as frustrated, I snap back, “No, I’m pretty damn sure you’re my reward.”

  “Oh my God, will you stop making me feel like more of an unstable bitch?”

  Fuck, I step back again when I really want to step forward. “Get some sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

  I pull back the covers on Nathaniel's bed.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not ready—”

  “Get some sleep, and when you get up, we can talk about what you need from me.”

  “Obviously, it’s not you. It’s me.”

  “We’re gonna add that to the ever-growing list of things we shouldn't ever say to one another.”

  She eventually climbs into his bed, and when she does, I see the road rash on her arse from her ride down the slide.

  “I’m going to get you some cream for that burn.”

  “I don’t need it,” she says as she curls up, facing away from me. “But thank you.”

  “Dad.” I hear Nathaniel's whisper and immediately sit up in my bed.

  “Is everything okay, Nathaniel?”

  “Just had to get my rain boots. Do you know Miss Nikki from Winterfield’s Sweet Spot is sleeping in my bed?”

  Fuuuuck, I think as I nod, attempting to nosedive back into dad mode, but the use of the name Winterfield’s Sweet Spot and its reminder still fresh on my tongue makes it difficult.

  “Did she get drunk again?” He smirks. “She’s funny when she’s drunk. So is Joshua’s mum, Miss Jenny. Were they together down in the bar again?”

  I scoot out of bed and blatantly
lie, “Yes.”

  “Does she drink all the time like old man Chappy?”

  “No, Nathaniel, she doesn't.”

  “Why is she here and not in the drunk tank?”

  “Jesus, does your aunt tell you everything that pops into her crazy head?” I stand up, walking into my bathroom to piss.

  “I heard that!” Faith laughs from downstairs, and I can imagine her rubbing her hands together like the schemer she is.

  “Oh, I’m sure you did. By the way, I wasn’t trying to hide it,” I call back to Faith.

  He follows me in. “So why?”

  “Beckett stayed next door.”

  “Oh.” He stands right behind me as I finish pissing. Having a kid means never using the bathroom without an audience.

  I flush the toilet and walk over to the sink to wash my hands.

  “Do you think maybe you should talk to Miss Nikki and tell her she should look at old man Chappy and see how wrinkly he is?”

  “Why would I do that?” I squirt toothpaste on my toothbrush.

  “Cause she’s real pretty and.” He pauses, and I see him smirk.

  “And what?”

  “You know how all those ladies come in, and sometimes I hear them talking about your pecker?”

  I nearly choke on the toothpaste. “What?”

  “You know how sometimes it looks extra big in your clothes?”

  “Nathaniel, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if—”

  “Aunt Faith thinks it’s funny. She says they want to date you, and maybe that’s why Miss Nikki comes in because she wants a date, and maybe if you take her on one, she won’t drink so much, and the other women will stop talking about your pecker.”

  “Faith!” My voice booms through the flat. I need to have a serious talk with this woman.

  “No need to yell, I’m right out here.” Her lips twist like she’s holding back a laugh. “What in the actual fu—”

  “Dad,” Nathaniel gasps.

  Faith is now in tears, her giggle impossible to control.

  “I don’t find an ounce of humor in this,” I snap at her.

  She completely ignores me, squats down, and looks at Nathaniel. “Nate, they are called pecs. Your dad’s man boobs are called pecs. It’s short for pectoral muscles.”

  He furrows his brows, confused. “That’s what I said. ”

  “No, bud, you said peck-er.” Faith laughs out loud.

  “Same thing.”

  “No, Nate, not even close,” I sigh.

  “Well, what’s a pecker then?”

  Faith snorts and then says, “It’s your knob, your tallywacker, your—”

  “Oh, for the love of Christ, the appropriate term is your penis,” I say to shut her up.

  Nate lets out a shocked laugh and covers his mouth.

  “Nathaniel.” I shake my head.

  “Oh, lighten up.” Faith laughs. “Let’s get going. We wouldn't want to be late opening the store.”

  “See you later, Dad,” Nate says as he runs out the door, probably happy as hell to be escaping this ridiculous conversation.

  “Nathaniel,” I call after him as I step out of my room.

  “Yeah, Dad?” he calls over his shoulder.

  “You forgetting something?” I ask.

  “Oh, yeah.” He hurries toward me, barreling straight into my arms.

  I hug him close, giving him a kiss on the head before telling him I love him. He says it back, and I swear to God, I wonder how it’s possible I got so lucky to have Nathaniel in my life.

  Running down the stairs, he calls back to me, “See you tomorrow at around five, Dad.”

  Faith walks past me carrying his rainboots with a shit ass grin on her face.

  I hiss, “Is it even raining out?”

  She stops in her tracks, a grin on her face. “Well, it was last night,” she says in a sing-song voice. “I had to come back and see for myself...if I needed the boots.”

  I shake my head, knowing damn well that she must have heard from one of the townspeople that I picked Nikki up on the side of the road. This woman has no bounds!

  Shit! Nikki...

  I wait until the door shuts and hurry across the bridge to Nathaniel's room.

  I peek my head in and watch for her body to raise and lower, to gauge whether she’s asleep or awake.

  She doesn't move a muscle. I’m pretty sure she’s holding her breath.

  “You awake?” I whisper.

  She rolls over; her eyes damn near bugging out of her head. And all I can do is laugh.

  “It’s not funny. Not only does your son think I’m a drunk and that I like your pecker, but my clothes are all over your downstairs floor.”

  “Guess that’s settled then, huh?” I turn and walk out the door, trying my best not to laugh.

  “Hold on,” she calls after me. “What does that mean?”

  “You like coffee, tea, or cocoa in the morning?”

  Behind me she calls, “Raff, this isn’t funny!”

  I can’t help but laugh. “No, it’s not. I’ve been facedown between your legs, and I don’t even know what your preferred morning beverage is.”

  Rule Number Fourteen

  If the view is Good, take the time to enjoy it

  Nikki

  I stop myself from running after him because my bladder is full, and I haven't been able to move a muscle since Nate came into his room and damn near scared the hell out of me. Somehow I managed to lie there and pretend I was asleep.

  After using the toilet, washing my hands and face, and luckily finding a new toothbrush inside the medicine cabinet, I begin to brush my teeth. But when I take a look in the mirror, I gasp.

  I am an utter mess from last night. Mascara stains run down my face, turning me into a ratty raccoon, complete with knotted hair. I hurry up and brush my teeth, and use some hand cream on a piece of toilet paper to clean the excess makeup from my face. I put some water in my hair to at least smooth it out some, and I’m relieved to say it helps.

  Mortified that he saw me like that, but also remembering exactly what I planned to say to him this morning after last night's fiasco, I try to keep my head up.

  The smell of frying bacon wafts through the air, causing my stomach to grumble.

  Raff is in the kitchen. In those gray sweatpants, and nothing else. I pause, my mouth agape. His bare back is to me, muscular and impressive. His shoulders are strong and defined. Watching this man turn bacon should be available on a soft porn site.

  I nearly say, forget it, he can treat me any way he wants to. As long as I get to look at this man, right here, on occasion, I’d die a happy woman.

  But I have to remain strong, keep some semblance of control, and I will after I take him in for just a minute or two more.

  Finally, I start down the stairs, take in a deep breath, and begin delivering the well-planned speech. “I’d like to talk about last night.”

  Still with his back to me, he asks, “Would you like to do that over coffee, tea, or cocoa?”

  “I’m fine.” Lie. I want that bacon and a hot coffee—badly. “But I really want to—”

  “I’d really like to count this as a breakfast date, so by the time we get back here later this afternoon. We’ll have three dates out of the way.”

  He turns around, and I nearly come at the sight of Raff, in gray sweats, abs on display, brown eyes bright, and his hair a complete wavy, tousled mess.

  Get it together I remind myself.

  “What are you having?” My voice comes out small. Too small.

  “Tea.” He winks.

  My eyes land on a carafe of coffee. “I’ll have a cup of coffee if that’s okay.”

  “Cream and sugar?”

  If by sugar, you mean a taste of those lips, yes, yes please, and I’d like seconds, thirds, oh hell, an infinite amount.

  Get it together, I remind myself.

  “Sure. Final answer.”

  “Perfect. Have a seat.”

  “Lo
ok,” I clear my throat as I place my hands on my hips, “I really need to get this off my chest before I lose my nerve.”

  He pulls the pan off the flame, grabs the carafe, and turns around.

  “I’m all ears.” He smiles as he steps forward and pours me a cup of coffee.

  I sit down at one of the stools on the other side of the long cement island that obviously doubles as a table, making sure my back is straight. I want to look strong and in control. Fake it ‘til you make it, and all that. Meanwhile, watching him lean down, resting his elbows on the surface and smiling at me before he takes a sip from his mug, my insides crumble.

  “In case you didn't notice, you have my full and undivided attention, Nikki.” He licks his lips before taking another sip.

  I nod once and begin. “You having money is something I have to,” I clear my throat, “learn how to swallow.” As soon as the phrase leaves my lips, I feel my face flush. I know if I look at him, I’ll burst out laughing. I force myself to continue. “Last night, you offered me a place to live and a job then got extremely possessive. The truth is, it reminded me of Townes.”

  “Fucking wanker.” He looks up, his nostrils flaring. I ignore him and continue.

  “After last night, I think I’d like to THINK about renting the loft next door.” I pause when his eyes literally light up. “I have an interview on Monday in Vail. I really want to be able to stand on my own two feet, it’s very important to me, and I need to remind myself I am more than capable of doing so.”

  “Most of what you just said I understand and will agree to.”

  “Raff, this isn't up for debate. This is what I need. I will consider your offer, but in the meantime, I need to do things on my own terms.”

  “I’m not possessive. I’m protective. That won't change. The drive to Vail in the winter months can be brutal, and I have the flexibility to drive you if—”

  “I have a Jeep. It’s good in the snow.”

  “Do you know how Hope died?”

  My chest tightens, and I am seconds away from caving, but I can't. I won't because I need to remain strong. “I don’t want to sound uncaring because I’m not. But you have to understand. I’m not Hope. Just like I have to understand that you’re not Townes. I can’t live in fear, Raff.”