by Whitley Cox
Aurora smiled, her cheeks flooding with heat. “And I you, Daphne.”
Daphne’s smile was wide and warm. “I’m off to bed, my loves.” She turned to Sherman. “Try not to make too much noise when you come into the room, dear.”
Sherman and Aiden had their heads together over the kitchen sink. He glanced over his shoulder. “Aiden and I are going to watch a movie, so I’ll be a while.”
“Night, Grammy,” Aiden tossed over his shoulder before he went back to his task of drying dishes.
Daphne simply shook her head and smiled. “I swear that husband of mine turns into a child the moment he’s around all the kids.” Her green eyes grew soft, and she took a detour back around the table to stand next to Zak. “All the kids. Big and small.” Then she patted his big tattooed arm, pecked him on the side of the head and retired to bed.
“Can I watch a movie too?” Tia asked as she licked taco sauce off her thumb and stood up to take her plate to the dishwasher.
“You’re not going to like it,” Aiden chimed in, intercepting his sister before she could open up the dishwasher. “It’s scary.”
“Then I don’t think either of you should be watching it,” Zak said, standing up to his full height and making his way behind the island. “Papa, what movie are you two planning to watch?”
Aurora loved watching Zak in his element with his grandparents and children. It was a whole other side to him, a whole other part of him that she was quickly falling hard for.
Sherman pulled the plug in the sink, set it on the back and then dried his hand on a dish towel. “We were going to watch The Grinch, but the one with Jim Carrey.”
Aurora spun in her seat. That movie wasn’t scary.
Zak’s broad shoulders visibly relaxed. “Oh.”
“But Tia is a scaredy-cat,” Aiden said. “She freaked out during the lava scene in Aladdin, remember. She doesn’t like scary stuff, and The Grinch can be a bit scary.”
Zak stroked his beard. “T, what do you think?”
Tia planted her hands on her hips, her mouth in a deep frown and her eyes fierce. “I’m not a scaredy-cat. I want to watch it.”
Aiden rolled his eyes. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. When you come knocking on my door tonight asking to sleep in my trundle bed, I’m going to say I told you so.”
Tia huffed. “I won’t be scared, I promise. And I’ll stay in my own room.”
Aiden wandered into the living room. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
Sherman and Tia followed Aiden into the living room, but Zak hung back with Aurora. She finally stood up. She hadn’t even noticed, but someone had taken her plate away for her. The whole kitchen was clean and everything put away.
She liked the efficiency in this family. Everyone had a job; everyone pitched in.
Once they were alone, Zak wrapped an arm around her waist. “You feel like watching a movie?”
She shook her head and bit her lip. “Sure don’t.”
His smile made her nipples pebble beneath his T-shirt.
She still wasn’t wearing a bra—or panties. Oh God, had her headlights been blazing the entire time she sat across the table with Zak’s grandparents and children? How mortifying.
“Thank you for being so cool about everything,” he said, his hand traversing her butt, then pinching the bottom of her left cheek. “And for dinner. That was amazing. You really didn’t have to do it, though.”
She smiled up at him, turning so that she was now in his arms. Her new favorite place to be. “I was happy to do it. Thank you for allowing me to spend Christmas with your family. I really like them—all of them.”
He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. It was a sweet kiss, a gentle kiss, unlike the majority of the kisses they’d shared so far, which had been lust-fueled and laden with deep-seated passion. But this kiss was no less earth-shattering. In fact, it was more. It was a kiss that spoke of his acceptance of her into his life, into the fold of his family. She wasn’t an Eastwood or a Fraser, but she was welcomed into their world, even if just for a short while. She could already tell that Zak was heavily guarded and protective of his children, but that only made her love him even more. Because she did love him. She hadn’t known him for long—only known of him, watched him, lusted after him—but she’d quickly fallen head over heels into a snowbank for the man as she observed him with his children, with his family and saw how fiercely loyal and protective he was of those he loved.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him back, mimicking the light brush of lips against lips that he’d given her. Her tongue darted out and caressed his bottom lip, tasting him and his beer from dinner.
Her phone vibrated in her hoodie pocket.
Pressley was getting insistent. He was getting demanding.
Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Let her spend her Christmas in peace.
“You want to get that?” Zak asked, pulling away from her slightly, his eyebrows lifting up on his head just a fraction.
Swallowing, she nodded, reached into her pocket and brought out her phone.
The bubble message on her home screen.
When I can see you? When can I come by?
She shut her eyes, then turned the screen back to black and shoved the phone back into her hoodie pocket, flashing as big a smile as she could muster at a curious-faced Zak. “Let’s go watch the movie,” she whispered. Then she dropped her hand to his and led him into the living room. “It’s Christmas. You need to spend time with your children.”
He squeezed her hand back, pulled her back against his chest and dipped his mouth next to her ear. “You’re incredible, you know that? I don’t care what your rules are. My rules are no pajamas, and I expect you to obey. I want to be able to dip my head between your legs at any point in the middle of the night and have zero obstacles.” Then he nipped the shell of her ear and pinched her butt with his free hand.
Aurora’s heart beat rapidly inside her chest, and her nipples now ached from how hard they were. She released his hand and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. The man was going to turn her into a puddle right in front of his family. She craned her neck around and grinned at Zak behind her, her smile now wide and real because he made it so easy for her to be happy.
“Did Dad tell a funny joke?” Tia asked, all curled up in a blanket on the couch next to Sherman.
Aurora swallowed, then took a seat in the big chair, her whole body warmer than the pavement in the peak of summer. She nodded and smiled. “Something like that.”
Tia pulled up her blanket. “Come sit with me. There’s plenty of room.” She nodded her head in encouragement. “Dad, you sit in the chair. I want Aurora to sit with me.”
Zak grinned, taking Aurora’s place in the chair as she made her way around the coffee table to sit next to Tia. Tia draped the blanket over Aurora’s legs and snuggled in next to her.
“I like this,” the little girl said, yawning.
Zak’s eyes met Aurora’s over the top of his daughter’s head. Fire burned behind the dark, intense blue.
Aurora swallowed again, certain that Tia could hear her wildly beating heart.
Yeah, she liked this too.
11
It was roughly four o’clock on Christmas Eve, and Aurora was rummaging through Zak’s closet.
Because he’d told her to go and grab one of his shirts—not because she was taking her stalking to the next level and searching for stray strands of his hair so she could slowly fashion her own Zak doll. No, that wasn’t it.
But that was a very specific thought.
She’d put on a load of laundry, so she needed something warm to change into before a rigorous night of pizza-making and board games. Zak had whisked her downstairs after she’d made cookies with Tia and Aiden, and the two of them did a little sex workout, starting with his head between her legs as she did sit-ups. All to the most heinous rap blasting from the high-end sound system he had hooked up
.
Best. Workout. Ever.
She’d never done more crunches or orgasmed as she did crunches before in her life.
There was no going back now.
She’d never be able to do a normal sit-up again.
Zak was ruining her—but in the absolute best possible way.
Sweaty from their workout-sex-out, she left her dirty, dirty personal trainer downstairs with his kids and grandparents and she hopped in the shower.
Only she wasn’t alone for long.
Best. Christmas. Ever.
Their shower was extra long. She was sure Zak’s grandparents knew exactly what they were up to, so she was doing her best to take her time before she headed back downstairs. Which was why she was deep into Zak’s walk-in closet, rummaging through his shirts and letting his manly smell wash over her.
She found a lovely plaid pattern and pulled it off the hanger, expecting it to be a nice cozy shirt she could toss over another one of Zak’s tank tops and stay warm in.
It was no shirt though.
It was a kilt.
A kilt.
Her mouth flooded with moisture, as did the fresh pair of Zak’s boxers she was wearing.
“Whatcha got my kilt out for?” Zak asked, wandering into the closet behind her, a towel slung sexily around his shoulder and nothing around his waist. He claimed his beard needed a trim, so he’d hung back in the bathroom to tidy up his scruff.
She thought he looked delicious no matter the length of his beard. It certainly felt amazing against her inner thighs and other places.
Aurora licked her lips. “You. Have. A. Kilt?”
He nodded, grabbing a pair of jeans from one of his closet drawers. “Sure do, darlin’. I’m half Fraser, after all. Papa came over to America when he was twelve, but the man was born in Sterling. Still has family there.”
Her nipples tightened to painfully hard points beneath her bra. “But why do you have a kilt?”
With the carefree gait of a man who knew he was sex on a candy cane any red-blooded woman within a hundred miles would want to lick until she was in a sugar coma, he headed to his other dresser in the bedroom and pulled out a pair of boxers. He tucked his fine ass into the briefs. “Because back when I was in high school, Papa and Granny took Adam and I back to Scotland for a few weeks. There was a big family wedding. We met all our kin, or clan Fraser, if you will. We got the family tartan, ate haggis. You know, the usual.” He slipped his toned legs into his jeans.
“Did you wear it?” she asked, following him out into the bedroom, her fantasies cannoning around inside her head like a kaleidoscope of butterflies suddenly tossed from a tree into the wind. They were all madly flapping their wings. They were all looking for purchase.
But this fantasy, this butterfly needed to happen. This butterfly needed to rest its tired wings and take a break. On a kilt!
“You okay?” he asked, pulling a tight black T-shirt over his frame, showcasing his tattoos and well-defined pecs. He stalked toward her, a knowing smirk now on his oh-so-talented mouth. “You one of those Outlander lovers? Got a penchant for redheads in kilts there, lassie?”
He stood mere inches in front of her, gently pried the kilt from her hands and held it up against his waist. “I reckon it probably still fits.” He was bouncing between accents. One minute he was laying on that Southern charm; the next he was hitting the brogue hard. Her nipples and brain didn’t know what do to. But what they did know was that they liked it all.
“Should I try it on later? See if it fits,” he asked, his accent sliding back into a sexy brogue.
Oh lord, yes, please say it still fits.
Unless, of course, it was just too short … nothing wrong with that. Absolutely nothing.
“Get dressed and head on downstairs, Rory.” The deep command in his voice made her knees wobble. His Southern twang was back, and he sounded like a cowboy ready to ride the range.
The range being her!
He pushed past her and headed back into the closet, coming out seconds later with a pair of his sweat pants, a plaid shirt and a tank top. “Put these on and then head downstairs. I’ll join you in a moment.”
She nodded, taking the clothes from him.
He didn’t smile but simply said, “Good girl.” Which made her nearly come on the spot. He took the kilt back into the closet and didn’t return before she’d gotten herself dressed, having to cinch the drawstring on the sweatpants super-tight around her waist. They were also crazy long on her. She looked ridiculous.
Rolling her eyes at her bag-lady appearance, she headed downstairs, her body still on fire from the thought of him in a kilt, from his rough demand and the way he called her a good girl. Was she going to get to see him in a kilt later, or would she be forced to shut her eyes during sex and simply pretend he was wearing one? She could do that. She would do that. But she’d much prefer the real deal. Because the real deal was perfection.
Back at the table, with personal pizzas half eaten and the game of Candy Land sitting in the center, everyone drank wine, sparkling flavored water and beer and laughed until their sides hurt.
It was one of the most wonderful Christmas Eves Aurora had had in a long time. It reminded her of when she and Brecken were small, her parents had been healthy and working and things in life were good. Things in life made sense.
Every Christmas Eve in the Stratford house, she and Brecken would spend the afternoon with their dad handing out socks, sandwiches and blankets to the homeless while their mom prepared her famous Stratford family nachos and wrapped presents. Then they’d all sit down on the living room floor, spread a blanket out and have a “picnic” indoors while they watched old Christmas movie classics like A Christmas Story and It’s a Wonderful Life. Then Brecken would put the porcelain baby Jesus figurine in the manger—not that they were religious, they just had a nativity scene they put out—and Aurora would place the angel atop the tree, and they’d go to bed.
It was one of the days she’d most looked forward to each year because her family was together—which wasn’t very often, given how much both her parents had to work. Her mother had been a hospice nurse but primarily worked nights, and her father had been a heavy-duty mechanic for a construction company, but the company had fallen on hard times during the recession, and he’d lost his job.
Despite his education and experience, he struggled to find work and ended up taking odd jobs until he landed a truck-driving gig, hauling milk products up and down the Eastern seaboard.
Then he was rarely home.
The last great Christmas she could remember when they’d picnicked in the living room had been when she was about thirteen. Brecken was sixteen, and their father had just lost his job, but her parents had decided to wait until after Christmas to tell their children. She remembered her dad’s sad eyes, the looks of worry that passed back and forth between her parents as they tried to smile and laugh through it all. She knew something was up—Brecken did too—but even then, her parents had put on big smiles and given Aurora and her brother a wonderful Christmas to remember.
A hand squeezed hers beneath the table, drawing her out of her thoughts.
“You okay?” Zak asked, his eyes dark with worry. “You looked about a million miles away.”
Nope. Just seventeen years in the past and three thousand miles away.
She shook her head and grinned a big cheesy grin. “I’m right here. Exactly where I want to be.”
“What are your parents up to this holiday season?” Sherman asked, taking a bite of his pizza. “Are they here in Seattle?”
Aurora shook her head. “No. They’re back in New Hampshire, which is where I’m from.”
He nodded. “Lovely state.”
“I think so.”
“What are they doing for Christmas? They didn’t want to come out and visit you?” He continued to munch on his pizza, washing it down with a sip of beer.
They can barely afford electricity right now. A flight was out of the question.<
br />
“They wanted to, but it’s not really in the cards right now. My dad suffered a heart attack earlier this year, so he’s not feeling too hot. Lots of doctors’ appointments and medications. It’s also only our second Christmas without my brother, so … ” She swallowed past the hard lump in her throat, averting her eyes away from the people staring back at her with curious expressions on their faces.
“We lost a child too,” Daphne said quietly. “Just because Laura’s been gone for thirty-one years doesn’t mean the holidays aren’t the hardest times of all. Christmas was her absolute favorite time of the year.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her napkin. “Became a little girl on Christmas morning, bouncing around, unable to contain her excitement.”
Zak made an unidentifiable noise in his throat and awkwardly shifted in his seat next to her. Did he remember much about his mother? He’d been so young when his parents passed away.
Aurora’s smile was small. She also wasn’t ready to lift her head. “Brecken’s death was really hard on them—was hard on all of us. I know I should be home with them for Christmas this year, but we just can’t afford it. Not with my dad’s medical bills now and my student loan debt.”
Sherman groaned, which caused her to finally lift her head. “I’m truly sorry, Aurora. That’s never easy. Why, if I didn’t have a decent pension or medical plan, my insulin would have put us in the poorhouse long ago.”
“We’d never let that happen,” Zak said, his voice deep and slightly strained. His hand landed on Aurora’s thigh beneath the table and gave her knee a gentle squeeze.
“How did your brother die?” Tia asked.
“T, we don’t ask that,” Zak quickly said, squeezing Aurora’s knee once again.
“But Dad, I—”
“It’s okay,” Aurora said, her throat now feeling tighter than ever. “He was sick, and he didn’t think there was any other way to get better, so he made a very difficult decision to end his life.”
Did the kids know about suicide? Was she overstepping explaining such a thing to Zak’s kids? Her head hurt.
