by Kali Hart
His Unexpected Christmas Gift
Thorton Family Holidays Book 1
Kali Hart
His Unexpected Christmas Gift is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Kali Hart
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
1
MIA
Only a crazy person would drive into the mountains in a snowstorm.
So I guess that makes me crazy.
But only a Scrooge would celebrate Christmas without a tree. And I’m no Scrooge.
Thick snowflakes splatter against my windshield, melting on impact. The winding road—the only road that’ll lead me to Benson’s Tree Farm—is wet and slushy. A couple of degrees colder and these roads will turn into skating rinks. Something my worn all-season tires won’t handle well.
It’s all my fault. I waited too long on the wrong guy. If I’d just gone tree shopping on my own, all the tree lots in town wouldn’t be sold out. Two days before Christmas! What was I thinking?
Approximately two hours and twelve minutes ago, I ended the relationship that was going nowhere fast. Rhett could never be bothered to show up for anything important to me. I don’t know why I kept lying to myself. I thought he would change.
My GPS announces my turn is only half a mile ahead. It’s impossible to see road signs with the fresh snow covering them. It leaves me dependent on the little map on my phone screen. Is there a road or will it drive me into a lake?
To be honest, a part of me has known for weeks that Rhett and I were not going to make it. Probably why I haven’t shed a single tear over him. I think I was just trying to get through the holidays before I faced the inevitable.
A freshly plowed road winds its way gradually uphill. Masses of pine trees line either side of the narrow road. A wooden sign only half covered with snow suggests the tree farm I’m seeking is a mile up ahead. I slowly follow the only passable path to a log cabin.
Aside from a red truck with a plow attached to the front, the parking lot is completely deserted—if the two and half open spots can really be called a parking lot. I really must be the only crazy one venturing out today for a tree. For a beat, I worry that this place is closed, too.
“I’m not leaving without a tree,” I say out loud before I get out of the car. If they’re closed, they’re just going to have to make an exception. I did not drive all this way to leave empty handed. They’re my last hope.
I approach the log cabin style store with a covered porch that spans the full length of building, crossing my fingers that there’s at least one tree remaining. Just one. I’ll even take one they threw out. I’ll Charlie Brown the shit out of this Christmas tree if I have to.
I’d feel better if there was at least a sign posted with their hours. Or any signs at all. But this has to be the place. The road didn’t lead anywhere else.
“Can I help you?”
The deep voice startles me, and I nearly stumble over my own two feet. I catch myself on the log railing.
The owner of the deep voice steps through the door, his shoulders nearly brushing both sides. If he was two inches taller, he’d have to duck to get through that door. He’s massive. Built like a brick house. A hot-as-hell brick house.
Holy shit.
“I—I need a tree.” Slickness heats between my legs as I imagine myself combing my fingers over his thick beard. Wow, where did that come from?
He folds both large arms across his chest, muscles bulging under his long-sleeved thermal shirt. I bet he could pick up a car with the looks of those things. “I don’t have any trees.”
“I don’t believe you.” There’s an entire forest around him. No way he’s run out.
“You should go. Storm’s coming.”
My eyes take in the rest of him. The worn jeans. The deep blue eyes. There’s a gruffness to him that should have me shaking in my knockoff UGGs. For all I know, he’s the only one around for miles. He could kidnap me. Tie me up… Is it terrible that I’m not opposed to either of those options right now? Focus, Mia. Focus.
“I’m not leaving without a tree.”
“Suit yourself.” He turns back toward the door.
“I’ll just go around back and get one myself, then.” It’s a bluff. I don’t think I could carry a tree and throw it on top of my car if my life depended on it. Not the tree I have in mind. But I’m not leaving here empty handed.
The man scrubs a hand through his hair, annoyance dancing in those devilishly blue eyes. He can be irritated all he wants. I did not make this drive to go home treeless. “Roads’ll be closed soon. You don’t have time.”
“Sure I do. You bring one to me from your lot out back, I pay for it. Then I go. Easy-peasy.”
He cocks an eyebrow at that, and dammit if he doesn’t look more delicious for it. I haven’t felt this attracted to a man in … ever. Hell, I don’t know if I ever felt this pulled toward Rhett. This man is dangerous in a way that makes my lady bits tingle.
CONNER
It’s taken me a few minutes, but I finally realize this woman thinks I’m the owner of the tree farm down the road. I’m about to tell her she’s at the wrong place, but she doesn’t exactly give me a chance to interrupt.
“You don’t understand. Christmas is almost here. Everywhere else is out of trees. I have to have a tree. There’s no other option. I’ve never celebrated Christmas without a tree. My mom—” Desperation dances in those amber orbs, and she can’t finish her sentence. I’m not exactly a man known for having a soft spot. But dammit, I don’t want to be the one to ruin Christmas for her.
“Then let’s go get you a tree.”
The sooner I cut down a tree for this woman, the sooner she’ll be on her way. I own over a hundred acres out here. I can spare one tree for a good cause.
“Really?”
“Yes. Let’s make it quick.” If she doesn’t hurry, she’ll be caught in the storm. She can’t stay here. The things I want to do to her aren’t at all polite. But it’s not my fault she showed up in those tight leggings and that curvy ass.
Also, I’m not crazy about the idea of digging her out of a snowbank. I just want to get back to my peace and quiet and pretend the holiday season never happened. That’s my tradition.
“Are they out back in a lot?”
I grab my axe off the front porch and toss it over my shoulder with a grunt laugh. “Well, they’re out back.”
“Wh—what’s that for?” Her eyes—locked on my axe—are wide and buggy. “Are you going to mur—”
“I’m fresh out of precut trees, darling.” It shouldn’t bother me that she thinks I might be an axe murderer. In fact, that usually keeps most people away. But I don’t want her to be afraid of me. “I’m only chopping down a tree. Not you.”
She waves her cell phone in the air like she’s casting some kind of magic spell. “No signal?”
/> “You’re in the mountains.” Honestly, I’m not sure what she expected, driving this far from the city with a storm on her tail. People live out here because there’s no cell service. Especially when the weather turns. “I have a landline inside if you need to call anyone.” I have internet, too. I’m not a complete barbarian. But she doesn’t need to know that. It might make her want to stick around.
“No. No one to call.” Sadness laces her voice. It only intensifies the urge to fill this woman with so much pleasure that she doesn’t know what it’s like to be sad. It’s completely irrational. Maybe I’ve just stayed away from people for too long. But deep down, I know that’s a lie. This woman… something about her is softening my razor-sharp edges.
I lead her around the back of my cabin but stop at the entrance to the trail in the woods. It’s one I know well and travel often. I live off my land as much as possible. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“I’m coming.”
My dick lurches in my pants at the declaration. I know she meant something else entirely but apparently the fifteen-year-old boy in me didn’t get the memo. “It’s a little bit of a hike.” I glance down at her furry boots. I suspect they’re more for show than actual warmth.
“I have to pick out the tree.”
“Tradition?”
A smile lights her entire face, entrancing me for a moment. It’s such a pretty face with soft, delicate skin, perfectly rounded cheeks the cold has rosied, and those pillowy lips… “Yes. You’re catching on.”
She follows me into the woods without further hesitation. It makes me question whether now is a good time or actually a bad one to tell her the truth about the tree farm. Ten yards from the trail entrance, I stop.
“We’re here already?” She scans the woods around us, disbelief painted on her face. Nothing here—or within two hundred yards—would make a half-decent tree. We have to go deeper into the woods.
“This isn’t Benson’s Tree Farm.”
Her rosy cheeks darken, and panic flashes in those amber eyes. Shit. I didn’t mean to scare her. She probably thinks I am going to chop her up into bits. “I—I—”
“Benson’s closed yesterday for the season. They left town before the storm hit. It’s an older couple. They wanted to spend Christmas with their grandkids in Arizona.”
“Oh.” The panic has dissipated, but confusion lingers in her still slightly frantic gaze. “Who are you then?”
“Conner Thorton. Do you want me to cut you down a tree or not?”
She stretches up on tiptoes in her failed attempt to see over my shoulders. She’s much too short for that. She would disappear in my arms. I shake away the thought, because it only brings on more far more inappropriate ones, all of them with her naked. The minx is already bound to invade my dreams for days to come.
“How much?” she asks.
“What?”
“How much for the tree?”
“Nothing.”
She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Why?”
“Because you need to get back on the road before you get snowed in.” I trudge ahead before she can add more objections. If she wants the tree, she’ll follow me. If not, I’ll get back to my peace and quiet that much sooner.
2
MIA
My fingers are like icicles. These pitiful sequin gloves did nothing in the woods. I can’t believe I actually encourage people to buy them as gifts in the department store. Cute does not equal warm.
The woodstove inside Conner’s cabin crackles, emitting a wave of heat that begins to thaw out my entire body. I shed my coat and lay it over the back of the only chair in the room, leaving me in black leggings and my thin red Santa-style shirt I wear to work during the holiday season.
I search out the window for Conner, but there’s no sign of him. He’s out there somewhere, completely in his element, probably tying my tree to the top of my car. And I’m in here, frozen like a popsicle. We couldn’t be more different. But I’m drawn to him just the same. It’s an intense attraction I’ve never experienced before, but definitely one I can’t deny. My panties have been soaked since I first laid eyes on him.
I feel foolish believing that his cabin was actually the tree farm. I should’ve known better the moment I pulled up, but I wanted to believe it so badly. Benson’s Tree Farm was my last hope. Or so I thought.
And he sensed it.
He didn’t rush me out there in the woods. Once we arrived at the perfect spot that offered hundreds of perfect Christmas tree options, he let me browse and change my mind ten different times. I almost forgot what that was like. Rhett always made me feel like I was wasting his time. How did it take me so long to see that?
I move about the room, rubbing my hands together. The cabin is sparse. Only the essentials. A generously sized recliner between the woodstove and window, no rug on the wood floor, the kitchen has black granite countertops, but they’re bare except for a set of knives.
Curiosity takes me down the hall passed the kitchen. The door at the end is slightly ajar, and it pulls me like a magnet. With the lightest pressure, I push the door open a few more inches. The first thing I see is the massive bed and its soft gray comforter. The woodsy scent of Conner invades my sense. My nipples tighten, and my eyes fall closed as I inhale.
“What are you doing?”
Heat rushes up my neck. I’ve been caught. “I, uh—”
He cages me in with a hand on either side of the wall. I should be terrified. But I’m not. In fact, I’m turned on. He’s close enough to me that heat radiates in the narrow gap between our chests.
“This room is off limits, darling.”
My traitorous eyes dart back to the bedroom. “Why?”
He laughs at my boldness, moving closer. My breasts smash up against his steel chest. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
The fire between my legs begs me to roll the dice.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Mia.” Every nerve ending is tingling with anticipation. My gaze drops to his lips. I do what I’ve wanted to do since the first moment I saw him. I let my fingers comb over his beard.
Conner’s eyes darken, and then he pounces.
The kiss is like a cosmic collision. Intense. Forceful. Hungry. Hot. His large hands lift my ass and press me against him. His jeans don’t do much to hide what he’s feeling. I grind hard against him. I want him.
He groans against my neck. “You need to go.”
I’m panting so heavily I have to lean against the wall for stability when he pulls away. What the hell just happened?
“Go,” he says again, this time with more force.
‘But—”
“Go!” His deep tone shakes me to the core, warning me I should listen.
I rush down the hall, grab my coat, and run out the door.
CONNER
Fuck. I lean my head against the wall. It’s still swimming from that kiss. Holy fuck, what was that kiss?
Mia’s perfume lingers in the hallway. My dick is hard as a rock, bulging against the zipper of my jeans. I could free it now and stroke myself to the memory of that kiss. I wouldn’t last long.
But I see the heavy flakes dropping outside the window down the hall. Concern for her safety twists my chest. Her pitiful sedan is no match for the heavy snowfall. I need her gone, but I need her alive more. Not stranded in the cold, stuck in a ditch.
I fire up the old truck, despite its objections. It’s never been a fan of the cold. Outside of plowing the road up here and to the Benson Tree Farm when they’re around, it doesn’t run much in the winter. But it’ll do to make sure she gets back on the main road.
I’m only halfway when I spot the green of her tree lodged at an awkward angle. My breath halts in my lungs at the sight of her little blue car stuck at a forty-five degree angle. Hazard lights flash. She slid into a ditch because I was an asshole who chased her away. Fuck me.
“Mia?” I call out as I rush to the driver’s side, pray
ing she’s okay. “Mia?”
“Go away!” she shouts through her window. She’s rolled it down an inch.
“Are you hurt?”
“Just my stupid pride.”
I reach the door and am finally able to see her for myself. Though I won’t know if she’s hurt until I get her back to the cabin, I don’t see any blood now. “You’re coming back with me.”
“Just call me a tow truck. I’m fine.”
“Fine, we’ll call a tow.” It takes a few more minutes of arguing, but I finally convince her to come back to the cabin instead of waiting in her unlevel car. I understand why she’s hesitant, but I promise to keep my hands to myself. I just wish I knew I could keep my promise.
Once I’ve confirmed she’s suffered no obvious injuries, I confess to Mia that I’ve had internet all along and let her look up the number to several tow trucks. But every call she makes yields the same result. “They can’t get out here until tomorrow.” She hangs up the phone and buries her head under her arms.
“You can stay here.” It’s not what I wanted. I wanted to spend the holidays alone. It’s easier to forget them that way. With Mia in her Santa top and determination to get herself a tree, there’s no way she’ll just let the holidays pass without fanfare.
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” she mumbles beneath the cover of her arms.
If we’re going to be stuck with each other, the least I can do is try to make it up to her. If I hadn’t chased her out of her after that frenzied kiss, she might’ve had a clearer head on her shoulders to drive with. “You hungry?”
She lifts her head, cocking an eyebrow at me. It’s fucking sexy, and my dick is not shy about letting me know just that. “Depends what’s on the menu.”
