Friends with Benefits: A Friends to Lovers Holiday Romance (A Different Kind of Love Book 4)

by Liz Durano

  Friends with Benefits

  A Different Kind of Love Novella

  Liz Durano

  Friends with Benefits

  I’ve known Campbell Murphy all my life. He’s the boy next door and my brother’s best friend… the one man outside of family whom I can be completely myself with.

  But when I wake up in his bed the morning after his company holiday party, there are two things I suddenly can’t ignore:

  One, Campbell Murphy is all grown up in more ways than one, and two, I no longer want to be just his best friend’s sister.

  What’s even better is that we’re on the same page…

  But even if we end up not working out, is a fling worth sacrificing a lifetime of trust between families? Or is it worth a shot at something that had always been there all along?

  Each book in A Different Kind of Love series is a STANDALONE story with NO cliffhanger and a guaranteed HEA. Some are angsty and emotional while some are fun and lighthearted… like this one!

  Everything She Ever Wanted

  Falling for Jordan

  Breaking the Rules

  Friends with Benefits Copyright © 2018 by Liz Durano

  Cover Design by James at GoOnWrite.com

  Published by Velvet Madrid Books

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or scanned in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. This 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, events or establishments is purely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Ready to Dive into another Holiday Story?

  Other Books by Liz Durano

  About Liz

  One

  I see him in the crowd, a head taller than everyone else around him, his familiar grin reminding me that he’s not just my older brother, he’s my best friend, too. And boy, have I missed him.

  “Jory!”

  I leap into his arms like I used to when we were kids. Only this time, I’m all grown up and from the way Jordan takes a step back to regain his footing the moment I land in his arms, I’m probably also too big to pull the same stunt year after year. But it’s not like he’s ever minded before.

  “Whoa, sis!”

  Until now.

  Jordan sets me down on the ground and steps back, surveying my outfit. Five hours on the plane meant I had to be comfortable so a long-sleeve shirt and yoga pants were in order.

  “Mom was right. She said you wouldn’t bring a coat... or a scarf, for that matter,” he says, laughing. “Come on, Cait, what is this flimsy little thing?”

  The ‘flimsy little thing’ is a thin faux leather jacket I picked up a discount store in LA. “It was seventy degrees when I left.”

  “Well, you’re home now and it won’t hit seventy for another four months.” Jordan lifts the wool coat he’d slung over his arm. “It’s projected to be in the 30’s here. Hopefully it will snow.”

  “Oh, good! Then I can beat you in the snowball fight we’re gonna have like I always do,” I say, laughing as he helps me into my coat and then wraps a scarf around my neck for good measure.

  “Ha ha, Cait. Dream on,” he says. “Did you check in any luggage?”

  I shake my head. “Nope, just my carry-on and that’s it.”

  As I follow my older brother through the crowd, I can’t believe I’m finally home, even if it’s only for three weeks. I’ve had a tough semester so far and I’ve been looking forward to this moment for months. There’s no other place I’d rather be for Christmas—with family—and it’s always been the same all my twenty-five years.

  The only exception would be last year when Jordan spent the holidays in the Philippines building schools and clinics for a nonprofit. All we got was a phone call wishing us a Merry Christmas and I was gutted. I hated seeing everyone at the dinner table except him but he was doing what he’d always wanted to do, travel the world while doing some good... although technically, he was also getting away from ex-girlfriend Rachel who refused to accept they were over.

  The moment he got back nine months ago, I took three days off to fly back home just to see him and make him promise me never to miss Christmas again. After all, family is family.

  Now he’s got a family of his own and they’re all spending Christmas Eve at the house. Who knew that just before he flew to Southeast Asia two years ago, he’d end up meeting his soulmate? Addison Rowe is a nephrology specialist with a private practice in Manhattan, and together they’re parents to my most adorable niece and my parents’ first grandchild, Piper. Long story short, basically Jordan had a one-night stand, but if ever there was a love story that was meant to be, it’s theirs. And I love Addison to bits. She’s funny and her mother makes the meanest fried egg rolls and pancit this side of the Mississippi.

  As we make our way out of the terminal, I take in the sights and sounds of New York that I’ve missed so much. It doesn’t matter that it includes honking cars, the smell of exhaust, and irate drivers. I’m just glad to be home again.

  “Where are Addison and Piper?” I ask as I follow Jordan through the crowd. At six-feet-four-inches of solid muscle, he manages to clear the path just by being there.

  “They’re waiting at the house. You should see Piper, Cait. She’s a little tornado, walking already and keeping Addy busy. Heck, she’s keeping all of us on our toes. Who knew a baby could cause so much havoc?”

  “The good kind of havoc, I hope?”

  Jordan shoots me a look. “Of course.”

  I laugh. At twenty-nine, Jordan is the perfect father and it’s no surprise. He was always protective of me when we were kids to the point that no one could ask me out without going through him first. And no one messed with the high school quarterback or his best friend, Campbell Murphy who took over whenever Jordan wasn’t around.

  We get to Jordan’s truck ten minutes later. As he loads my luggage in the rear cab, I get in the passenger seat and set the heater to maximum. He was right. It’s cold.

  “So how’s Campbell?” I ask as he gets behind the wheel and starts the engine.

  “I think he’s in Seattle, something about a due diligence meeting with potential clients, that kind of thing,” he replies. “But he should be back by tomorrow, I think.”

  “I sure hope he got Christmas off.”

  “Of course, he did,” Jordan says, grinning. “He may work a lot but the guy knows when to chill. You should see him play golf every chance he gets.”

  “I’m sure his bosses play it.”

  Jordan laughs. “You know they do. But Campbell actually enjoys it. He keeps threatening to introduce me to it as soon as the weather allows.”

  “I can’t wait to see him again.”

  “I’m sure he’d be happy to see you, too, Cait.”

 
; While both guys are tight like guy friends go, Campbell is my friend, too, although these days, our phone calls have been replaced by text messages. But with him working as a hedge fund analyst and me completing my Masters in Molecular Biology in California, we do the best we can. Jordan and I have known him ever since he and his family moved in next door to us when I was four and Mom and Dad even consider him the unofficial third O’Halloran sibling. He has a seat at the table every holiday and any time he wants to stop by. Mom even knit him his own stocking which she hangs from the mantelpiece next to Jordan’s and my own.

  “I missed hanging out with him the last time I came home a few months ago,” I say. “I think he was in the Bahamas or something.”

  “Saint Lucia.”

  “Lucky him.”

  “For work,” Jordan adds.

  “Still lucky him.” I sigh. “Can you imagine being in Saint Lucia for work?”

  “Yeah, I can imagine it, but don’t forget, Cait. Campbell works twelve-hour days most times,” Jordan says. “But when he parties, he parties.”

  “That’s right. He does, doesn’t he?” I laugh, remembering how he ended up having his pictures posted on Instagram after he ended up dating some social media celebrity. “I really hope I get to hang out with him this time. I need to do some serious partying to balance out all the research I’ve been doing for my dissertation.”

  As if in response, my phone vibrates and I see my best friend’s name on the display. “Shit, I forgot to text Roxy that I’ve landed.”

  “Wish her Merry Christmas for me, will you?” Jordan says as I click answer. “I’ve been pretty out of the loop lately to know what she’s been up to.”

  I laugh. “Ya think? You’ve got a wedding to plan, Jory. Your bar-hopping days are over.”

  “So when did you get in?” A high-pitched voice asks when I slip my earbuds on. I’ve known Roxy Porter since high school and whenever I come home, she and I usually hang out.

  “We got in twenty minutes ago. Right now we’re stuck in traffic. What’s up?”

  “Remember that party we went to the last time you were here? Well, one guy asked me about you and wanted to know if you’re available to hang out.”

  “What did you tell him?” Roxy introduces me to a lot of people whenever I return home for a few weeks. After a while, the guys’ faces and personalities blend together. She also knows I don’t have time to date but she still fixes me up on dates anyway.

  “Nothing. Anyway, his name’s Malcolm. He’s an investment banker and he drives a Porsche. You met him at Lindsay’s party,” she replies, unfazed. “He’s this uber hot, blond god who happens to remember you and wants to take you with him to his company holiday party. I’ll be there, too, which is good because if things turn south, I’ll have your back.”

  “Who are you going with?”

  “Jace. He’s working the bar that night so I get to hang out as his assistant. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even get tips. Bankers tip good, right?”

  I laugh. “I have no idea, but maybe they will. It’s the holidays, after all.”

  “Drunk people usually are more generous,” she says. “So is it a yes?”

  I don’t want to commit just yet, not when Jordan is eavesdropping. “Can I let you know tomorrow? I have to check my schedule. My family could have plans.”

  “There are still five days before Christmas, Cait, which means that’s five days of partying.”

  I chuckle. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

  “Alright. Anyway, I can’t wait to let you try my latest accomplishment. Sex with the Bartender.”

  “You’re already having sex with the bartender, Roxy. What’s new?”

  She laughs. “No! I mean the drink. It’s one of the best things out there and so I’ve been practicing. Let’s see… Malibu Coconut Rum, Bailey’s Irish cream, Triple sec, 7-up, Grenadine, and Roses Lime Juice. See? I even know the ingredients. You should try it, Cait. I’ll make you one at the party if you come.”

  Roxy has been dying to learn how to mix drinks for years. For a registered nurse, it’s the last thing I would have thought about her but it’s her way of relaxing after twelve-hour shifts in the ICU. While other people love to cook, she likes to mix drinks.

  “We’ll talk more about it tomorrow, Rox.”

  “So you going to the party?” Jordan asks after I say goodbye to Roxy and hang up.

  “I don’t know if I am or not yet. I promised one of my accountability partners at school that I’d–”

  “Scaredy cat,” Jordan coughs out the word and I whack his bicep playfully, although there’s nothing playful about my glare. “Alright, alright. I was just kidding,” he protests. “What happened with that Kieran guy you were seeing a few months ago?”

  “We only dated for two months,” I reply. “All he wanted to do was hang out at the cool spots so he could possibly run into some producer to pitch his next screenplay. It got old.”

  “I bet,” Jordan says. “So how’s school?”

  I lean back against the seat, grateful for the topic change. My dating life is abysmal, not when I’m on a scholarship for my Masters and I don’t want to blow it. “One more semester and I’ll be done.”

  “What are your plans after that? Any plans for a vacation? You’ve always wanted to go to Italy.”

  “With what, Jory? My good looks? I need to work and start paying my way for a change. I’m twenty-five, for crying out loud. Even Roxy’s working as a nurse now and she makes good money.”

  “And? It’s not like you were slacking the entire time. You’re in school… earning a Master’s degree at that,” he says. “Just remember to take a break, alright? Life isn’t all about school and work, sis.”

  “I know, Mr. I-Spent-A-Whole-Year-Abroad-Building-Schools-While-Exploring-The World,” I say as Jordan responds by rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I do have a few job prospects after graduation.”

  “East Coast, I hope?”

  “No, most of them are West Coast, unfortunately. One is in Portland and the other is in Texas. With the job market being so tough these days, you can’t really be too picky although I do hope I find something closer to home. I miss the four seasons. The fall colors, especially… and a white Christmas. I miss you guys most of all. It sure can get lonely out there in LA.”

  Jordan squeezes my hand. “We miss you, too, Cait.”

  Twenty minutes later, we make it to the O’Halloran family home in Forest Hills Gardens. It’s a borough in Queens and about nine miles to Manhattan. The best word I could probably describe it is quaint although Roxy likes to call the neighborhood posh. And she might just be right. It’s certainly different from the rest of the boroughs.

  Thanks to Grosvenor Attenbury, the architect behind the Tudor-style homes that boast towers, Norman-style turrets, red-tiled clay and gabled roofs, Forest Hills Gardens often looks like an English village when people first stumble upon it. Some streets even have wrought iron streetlights on top of “Harwich Port blue” lampposts. Campbell used to live next door but it’s changed hands since then. Right now, it’s dark, the family living there choosing to spend their holidays in Florida year after year. They could, at least, hire someone to decorate it so it matches the neighborhood.

  My excitement builds the moment Jordan parks the truck in the driveway and I get out. The house exterior is bedecked with lights and I can only imagine the electricity bill. But it doesn’t matter. It’s gorgeous, as if celebrating my official return home for the holidays.

  Mom and Dad are standing on the other side of the door and the moment I walk inside, it’s utter mayhem. The smells of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and hot chocolate make my mouth water as I lose myself in hugs and kisses from Mom, Dad, Addison and Piper. There’s nothing like being home for Christmas and as I walk into the living room with Piper in my arms, I sigh at the sight of the Christmas tree.

  The Fraser Fir is set up in the far corner of the living room and partially decorated only because that’s what w
e’re doing tonight. It’s why everyone is here, to put up their respective ornaments that mark every year we’ve lived in this house.

  The ornaments range from cheesy to classy to handmade projects from Jordan and my preschool years. I used to be embarrassed about them but now that I’m older, I’m grateful that Mom saved them all. Even Campbell has his commemorative ornaments, too, tucked in the storage box next to Jordan’s and mine. Too bad he’s not here to join us.

  I hand Piper back to Addison as Mom reappears from the kitchen with a mug of steaming hot chocolate. Dad follows right behind her with a tray of cookies.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Jordan standing next to Addison. They’re both beaming like the proud parents that they are, and I feel a pang of jealousy hit me right in the chest, a yearning to find the same thing they’ve found in each other, true love. And to think they found it when they weren’t exactly looking.

  Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever allow myself to fall in love, but that thought only lasts for a few seconds, before the thought of my next dissertation hits me like a ton of bricks and I return back to earth. After everything Mom and Dad have sacrificed to get me all the way to grad school, I owe it to them to be successful. So, no, I don’t have any time for love, not until after I graduate and then get a job and pay them back. Love can come later.

  Two

  I shouldn’t be tired but I am. I’ve been up since four in the morning testing quantitative models for the team and wrapping everything up before I take the rest of the week off. It doesn’t mean I’m going to be completely on vacation, though. I’m sure I’ll still be working. I just won’t be showing my face at the office.