Christmas Is for Lovers: 6 Hot Holiday Romances

by Box Set

  His lips are on mine, kissing me softly but urgently. All the words I wanted to say fly away like puffs of dandelion in a summer breeze.

  “I love you, Brittney,” Ben breathes the words between my lips. “I accept everything about you, past, present, and future. I promise you, I’ll never let anything come between us, and that I’ll always believe what you say over anyone else.”

  I continue to kiss him as my heart swells with happiness. It couldn’t have been easy for him to tuck away my past and not let it get between us again. I’ve put myself in his shoes and boy, if he’d ever slept with Lacy, I don’t know if I would be able to stop the twinges of jealousy whenever I see the two of them together.

  “You have a big heart, Ben Powers.” I dot another kiss on his sexy lips. “I’m also not going to put anyone or anything between us. You will be my best friend, and Lacy will be second. I’ll still have other friends, but I will consider your feelings above theirs.”

  “I don’t want you to lose any friends over me.”

  “I won’t, but you’re the only one in my heart where it matters. I love you, too.”

  “Does that mean we’re okay again?” Ben’s voice shakes.

  “Almost.” I shudder at how I need more assurance than words. “After tonight is over, I think I’ll know for sure. I want us to be truly okay.”

  The way he behaves at Nash’s concert will be the big test towards alleviating any residual doubt. I know he means well and truly wants to put it behind us, but can his emotions handle seeing me on stage with his brother?

  “Me too,” he agrees. “After tonight you will know in your heart that we’re not only okay, but we’re a power to be reckoned with.”

  I tap his chin and giggle. “I noticed something about you and your dad, always referring to power.”

  “Hey, when you have the powers, you flaunt it.” He closes his lips over mine and ravishes me with a kiss that powers me up from head to toe. My blood surges with passion and I’m not sure I want to go to the benefit concert anymore. I’m this close to asking Ben to take the horse-drawn carriage all the way to his grandfather’s magical Christmas cottage.

  Chapter 78

  ~ Ben ~

  Ben didn’t want to let Brittney go, but the carriage pulled up to the Reed Christmas Tree Barn, and the concert was about to begin. People milled about, sitting on the bales of hay as they waited for the doors to open.

  Ben’s phone had already buzzed several times in his pocket, no doubt worried messages from Nash on Brittney’s whereabouts. He ignored them all. After all, when the woman of his dreams was in his arms, nothing else mattered.

  “Well, we’re here,” Brittney said, humming as she snuggled him and the warm blanket one last time.

  “Your carriage arrives, Miss Cowgirl Elf,” Ben said. He kissed her softly one last time and stepped off to help her alight from the carriage.

  She was so light in his arms and of course, a bombshell in her midriff-baring dark-green velvet elf top. It hadn’t been easy to keep his hands off her, and more than a few times, he’d stroked her hips and belly while kissing her, but he should win an award for keeping his mitts from her mammoth mangoes. After all, there was a carriage driver sitting in front of them and he couldn’t risk taking her right then and there under the blanket, although what a story that would be.

  Ben adjusted his pants as he held out his arm to Brittney. The doors of the barn opened and people lined up to get in. Everyone was dressed for a line dance and country party, and he spotted his sisters flirting with more than a dozen men who’d probably never roped a steer before.

  “There you are,” Nash said, rushing toward them. “Brittney, we’re on in five minutes.”

  Before Ben could say peep, Nash had roped Brittney into his arms and led her toward the side entrance where the celebrity guests were giving interviews. Several paparazzi rushed to snap pictures of Nash and Brittney.

  Brittney looked back at him, and it was the sweetest gesture ever. She’d put every emotion of adoration and reassurance onto her face and long after she was whisked into the barn, Ben’s insides were warm with the knowledge that Brittney was truly his. Had there been a twinge? Sure, of course, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, not compared to the agony of losing her.

  Once the concert started, Ben was lost in a sea of people. It was one of those stand around the stage and scream type of affairs for the people in front with dancing on the straw covered ground further back.

  Brittney and Nash appeared hand in hand on the stage while Nash introduced her and urged everyone to stop slut-shaming.

  “Not only is it unfair,” Nash said. “But it’s unhealthy. Why would we judge anyone for something we wish we were doing? If you want to slut-shame, it’s because you’re not getting any. So squelch the shame and get into the game.”

  Ugh, that was pretty lame. Brittney smiled and waved to the crowd. “The point is, whether I’m wearing this sexy outfit, or a potato sack, it does not matter. You don’t know me and you’re judging me by what I wear. And even if you do know me, what business is it of yours to count how many times I have sex? Is your life really that dull that you’d care about mine?”

  “Hear, hear!” Ben’s sisters cheered. “We love you, Brittney Reed!”

  A flutter of white wings headed toward the stage and Big Blizzard landed on Brittney’s outstretched hand. He bobbed his crest up and down, rolling his head. “No slut-shaming. No sluts. No shame.”

  The crowd took up the chant. “No sluts. No shame. No sluts. No shame.”

  And then with a flourish, Nash raised his hand, nodded to his band and let loose a strum on his guitar. He bent down and riffed for a few moments before he sang about tattoos, bars, dogs, trucks, and women, of course.

  The bird, the ultimate ham, was perched on a microphone stand bobbing and dancing like crazy. That thing could hip-hop and jam like the best, with head rolls and wing flapping to accompany his crows.

  Several women asked Ben to dance, but he deferred and made his way toward the stage, his eyes never wavering from Brittney.

  “You okay?” she asked as he dragged her away from the screamers to the dance floor.

  “Best man here.” He kissed her. “Now, you’re going to two-step with the best.”

  They circled the floor, fast, fast, slow, slow, fast, fast, slow, slow, until Brittney stopped and said, “Why is it I have to be walking backwards all the time?”

  “Because you have to trust me. Do you?”

  “I do.” She wrapped her arms around him right when the song slowed, and Nash’s voice took on a wistful, loving tone as he sang, “She’s Everything.”

  Ben folded Brittney into his arms and swayed with her, holding her close and tight. He’d only love her more and more every day. She was truly everything he’d ever wanted and the mother of his future children. As his brother’s voice expressed his every feeling and emotion, Ben allowed himself to sink into Brittney’s love, knowing that at the end, love always won.

  Chapter 79

  ~ Brittney ~

  I never knew dancing could be so hot and intimate at the same time. Even though we’re surrounded by partiers and concert goers, Ben and I are practically alone in a dark corner of the barn.

  Everything about him makes me quiver with wanting him, from his strong shoulders to his muscular arms and the way he holds me both possessive and sweet. I can’t help but lift my lips to his and kiss him, sweeping my tongue over the seam of his mouth, tasting and touching every tantalizing piece of his body as we sway to the twangy love song.

  He truly is everything to me, and so much more. Never had I dared to believe a man so strong and powerful could be this sweet and tender—and honest. For some reason, he’s changed from closed and guarded, a hurt little boy grieving for his mother and sister to open and transparent.

  What he said to me in the carriage was a true reflection of his heart, that he accepts me past, present, and future. I accept him too, all of him, inside a
nd out, and I’ll do anything to show him. I move closer, plastering every inch of my body against his.

  His fingers trail through my hair, and his scent infuses me with want and adventure. I never dreamed I’d be in love with a rugged cowboy football player—a man so alpha, he’d rather charm the panties off me than say he’s sorry.

  But then, I’m okay with it. He hasn’t charged the stage or threatened his brother, and he’s even dancing and humming along with Nash’s sexy voice. Although I have to admit, Ben’s voice is sexier, rougher and just a little out of tune enough to endear him further into my heart—if that were possible.

  The last strum and note ends, and Nash says, “All right folks. She truly is everything, isn’t she?”

  The audience claps and shouts, and someone, probably Dad, trains the spotlight on me and Ben.

  I shield my eyes, but Ben waves, used to the adulation of fans. “She is my everything,” he adds in his big, booming voice.

  People around us clap his back and congratulate him. It’s such a great crowd, and it’s because Nash is the biggest draw, being such a superstar. I’ll have to remember to thank him for this, because it sure feels great when people are cheering and accepting me the way I am. It’s great to be liked.

  Nash continues speaking on stage, “We’re doing great, raising money and awareness against slut-shaming. Please continue to pledge your support. We’ve already raised enough money to cover Miss Reed’s attorney fees, so everything above that will go to the local domestic violence shelter. While the money is great, it’s not the most important—the most important is a change in attitude, checking yourself whenever you’re about to comment about someone else or make assumptions.”

  The audience cheers loudly, clapping and hooting, “No sluts. No shame. No sluts. No shame.”

  Nash accepts their accolades and after the clapping dies down, he says, “As promised, I have surprise guests who’ll come up at this time to lend their support. You’ve already met actress Amy Suzuki, but I also have several football players who’ll give us a pep talk on why slut-shaming is for the douche-canoes. Please welcome Greg Marsh and Josh Carter from the Oakland Brigands!”

  Ben raises his hands and claps, yelling. “Yeah!”

  “You know them, I bet.” I catch his eye and he grins. “I’ve never had so much support in my entire life.”

  “You deserve it.” He hugs me and skims a kiss on my forehead. “Everyone’s coming together on this, and it’s about time. No one should be judged or bullied for any reason at all.”

  “You’re right. No one, and that includes you.” I palm my hand on his rugged jaw. “I have a confession to make. I assumed you were a player and that you slept around because you were an athlete. I also made negative remarks about the women who had sexual contact with you.”

  “Well, I wasn’t exactly a choirboy.” His grin is crooked but mellow with a tiny shrug.

  “It shouldn’t matter,” I assure him. “That’s the entire point of this conversation. Your past shouldn’t matter.” I pause to let that sink in, then add as a warning, “Now, your future, that’s another story. I’m hoping it’s colored only by me. Inside, outside, off and on the line.”

  “It is only you.” He leans his forehead against mine.

  We’re so engrossed in each other, it takes a moment before I notice the cheers and then the sudden silence. I tear my gaze away from Ben and look toward the stage.

  The large screen Nash set up behind him comes to life with the President’s image.

  “The President? I can’t believe this. You set this up?” I prod Ben.

  His mouth is wide and he shakes his head. “I wish I could take credit. This is all Nash. He sang at the White House earlier this year.”

  From the overhead speakers come the President’s voice. “Some may think this matter is below my attention, but I’m here to bring you a message on judging and shaming. We as a nation are an accepting people and always rushing to aid and help those less fortunate. Yet at the same time, our exuberance can cause us to rush into judgment before we have thought things through. I have two daughters and too much attention is given to what they wear, rather than what they do and who they are. As we move forward as a nation, I urge you to check your attitudes about those who may be different from you and not be quick to judge and point fingers. We have all come from different backgrounds and our acceptance of those who are different is what makes the United States of America an exceptional nation. Thank you.”

  The barn erupts with hollers and foot stomping as Nash takes back the mic and yells, “Can I get a big ‘Hell Yeah?’”

  “Hell yeah!”

  “And from the ladies, I wanna hear a bigger ‘Hell Yeah!’”

  “Hell yeah!” the women scream.

  “Okay, all you ladies who aren’t ashamed of yourselves, and that’s all of you, come up here.” He waves the mic and hands it to the first wave of ladies crowding the stage.

  “What’s he up to?” I ask Ben.

  He’s clapping and nodding. “You, go up there. Go, go.”

  The intro sequence to the video of “Redneck Woman” scrolls across the screen. I get caught up with the swarms of women and we all link arms on stage as we bounce and jiggle and scream along to the lyrics of “Redneck Woman” ending with a big “Hell Yeah!”

  The concert ends with everyone moving outdoors to watch a fireworks show. Friends, neighbors, and strangers congratulate me, Ben, and Nash, who’s holding onto Amy like she’s his date. After we’re done being swarmed, Ben shepherds me back to my parents’ house to pack an overnighter.

  I can’t imagine how this night could get better, but forty minutes later, we enter the gates of a resort on the Marin Headlands north of the Golden Gate Bridge. As we turn onto the winding drive, the bridge beckons like a jeweled necklace above the tree line.

  The interior of the lodge is even more spectacular. Floor to ceiling windows open onto an incredible view of the bridge and in the distance, the sparkling lights of the San Francisco skyline. The night is clear, almost miraculously so, and from our room we can see forever.

  Am I being too mushy and gooey? Because when I turn to Ben, all I see is forever in his eyes.

  Chapter 80

  ~ Ben ~

  Nerves couldn’t begin to describe what Ben was feeling when he brought Brittney into the bay view room on the top floor of the lodge. He’d borrowed money from Nash to pay for the room and the carriage ride earlier, but regaining Brittney’s trust was worth every treasure in the world.

  “You like it?” He held his gaze on her gorgeous blue eyes.

  “I love it. You really know how to spoil a girl.”

  “You’re more than worth it.” He swept his hand under the hair at the nape of her neck, heartened to see the angel earrings he’d given her. He had another present for her, not a ring or anything that serious, but a token from his heart.

  “You’re too wonderful to me.” She hugged him around his waist. He was half hard already, and if it weren’t for his nerves, he’d be raging hard, but first things first. He dropped to his knees. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  Brittney gasped at the same time she shook her head. “A disclaimer already, Mr. Bennett Lee Powers?”

  “Uh, no, I didn’t mean, I didn’t want you to think.” Sweat and nerves didn’t make a great combination when trying to woo a lady love.

  She smiled and drew herself closer, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I’ll take whatever it is that this looks like.”

  “Okay, thanks. That makes it easier.” He’d already flubbed his lines, the ones he’d practiced in his mind on the drive over. Ben fumbled to unclasp the heart-shaped silver locket around his neck. He’d been wearing it all evening so it would touch his heart and hers, while they danced. Like the angel earrings, it had belonged to his mother.

  Brittney remained silent and encouraging, gently stroking his shoulders while observing his every move. He took her right hand and placed the locket in
her palm.

  “My mom had this locket made by a silversmith friend of my grandfather’s. Open it.”

  Brittney snapped open the heart and gasped. On one side was a picture of Ben as a boy, and the other side held a picture of Brittney as a girl.

  “Where’d you get my picture?” Brittney asked. “Why isn’t your mother’s picture in here?”

  “It was, but she’d always told me when I found you, I would replace the picture and put hers on a Christmas ornament to be hung near the top of the tree the year I found you.”

  “But, how did she know I’d be the one in here?”

  “She guided me to you, don’t you believe that?” Ben closed her hand on the locket. “I found this picture in the attic the night before our pretend Christmas morning. I knew it was you as soon as I saw it.”

  “But this is a picture from second grade, when I had Mrs.—” Brittney clapped a hand over her mouth. “Mrs. Powers. Your mom?”

  “She was a teacher, yes. She sent us to school in the next town over. I wish she hadn’t, because then I would have gotten to know you earlier.”

  “I remember Mrs. Powers left to have her baby. That was in sixth grade.” Her eyes misted, and she wiped them. “She never came back, but we all thought she decided to stay home and take care of the baby.”

  “They wouldn’t have told the students.” Ben’s voice turned gravelly.

  “No, they wouldn’t have. She was my second grade teacher, the one who brought me out of my shell. I used to be so shy, I wouldn’t say a peep to anyone. She’d give me a puppet and said to tell the puppet to talk for me.”

  “She’d be so proud of you now,” Ben said. “I’d like to think she’s looking down on us and approving.”

  “Oh, she does. I know she does.”