Sanaya and I share a look out of the corners of our eyes.
Annaleigh doesn’t notice. She launches into action, leading a path through the living room, past the blinking Christmas tree and the heavily-ornamented fireplace to the kitchen. There’s a hideous half-knitted quilt strewn over a lampshade and random articles of baby clothing on the floor. A yoga ball sits in the middle of the carpet surrounded by a heap of half-assembled nursery furniture. And is that a book of placenta recipes under the coffee table?
Relief floods my spirit. Turns out Annaleigh is still the hot mess that I’ve always known and loved.
"I thought you had a housekeeper," I mumble as I take in the scene. Sanaya shoots me a look, telling me to keep my comments to myself. I stifle a laugh.
She expertly reorients the conversation. "How are you feeling?" she asks when my sister winces harshly and massages the side of her belly.
Annaleigh gives a sarcastic sort of laugh as she step into the hall leading to the kitchen. "How am I? Fine, really. Aside from the fact that I have a dozen guests showing up for dinner in four hours and my house is a disaster and I don't know how to cook."
Sanaya laughs. “I was talking about the baby actually? You sort of look like you’re in pain.”
“I can handle the kicking,” my sister says confidently. “It’s the hosting-a-dinner-party part that’s freaking me out.”
A brow inches up Sanaya’s face. "Why did you invite people if you don't know how to cook?"
"Well, the plan was to make Prescott prepare the meal and then pass it off as my own," my sister confesses matter-of-factly. She sweeps her arm in the direction of the door. “As you can see, that plan worked out swimmingly.”
"Seriously?" I spit out. I flew all the way across the country for this deception. If I hadn’t had my cock ridden by the world’s most gorgeous and athletic woman all night, I’d be truly offended right now.
Annaleigh shrugs dismissively. "On paper, it was the perfect plan. It’s not like anyone would ever know. I have spousal privilege. Prescott can’t spill the beans on me."
“There you go misinterpreting legal concepts again,” Sanaya chuckles, shaking her head. “I warned Prescott about leaving you alone with his law dictionary.” When her laughter subsides, she pats my sister on the shoulder and reassures her. "Don't worry—your brother and I have got your back." She looks to me. "Don't we, Wesley?"
I take a sceptical look at the chaotic living room behind me and offer a non-committal grunt. That’s the best I can offer at this point.
We step into the kitchen and that carefree smile slips off of Sanaya's face. The place is a warzone—dirty kitchen appliances on the counters, utensils hanging off the ledges, cake mix dusting the floors, recipe books open on every flat surface.
Annaleigh gives us a meek look with her shoulders all hunched up. "I told you—I may have bitten off a bit more than I can chew."
Sanaya pulls in a breath and forces a smile. "You know what? Just leave it to me and Wesley. We've got this," she says confidently. "Tonight, we're having Indian-style Christmas dinner a la Sanaya...that means your turkey will be curried, not baked. Your potatoes will be samosa’d, not mashed. I don’t know how to make eggnog but you don't mind a mango lassi, do you?"
A weight rolls visibly off of my sister's shoulders and she clasps her hands over her heart. "You two are a god-send."
"Glad to help," Sanaya smiles, "but first, can I borrow a t-shirt? If you knew all the things this dress has seen, you wouldn’t want it anywhere near your tandoori sauce."
Annaleigh holds up a hand as she eyes us up and down. “Please—say no more. You promised you’d get my brother here and you did. That’s all that matters. I can’t handle the emotional trauma of knowing all the trouble that you and my brother got into last night.”
Laughing, Sanaya follows Annaleigh and gets dressed in some comfy workout gear that my sister loans her. She lets me borrow some clothes from Prescott's closet.
Sanaya convinces Annaleigh to keep her overdue butt in bed and leave the cooking and cleaning to the two of us.
That means I have Sanaya all to myself.
I press her into the edge of the counter and kiss her hard. She looks so damn hot in those yoga pants. Not every girl looks good the morning after, especially following a wild night like the one we had. But if it’s possible, she looks even better without all the glitter and heels and sexy clothes. She’s the type of woman you take with you to your family’s Christmas dinner.
She laces her arms around my neck and smiles. Those almond eyes twinkle.
I lean back and take her in. “So, I just want to ask you this officially?”
“What?” she asks in a slow, sceptical tone.
Running my hands down her back, I revel in the way her body feels against mine. Feels pretty damn good. “Will you be my date tonight? Will you come with me to Christmas dinner?”
She spits out a laugh. “I don’t know about you, but I’ll be there. What? You think I’m just gonna cook up a feast and get lost? Please!”
So damn sassy all the time!
I smack her butt. I like this girl. So much. She makes me laugh. She makes my heart do funny things in my chest. I could get used to the way I feel when she’s around.
We work side by side, talking and laughing. I help her get the food started before we move on to giving the house a thorough clean. With the main course still going, we prepare something sweet for after dinner. Then we sneak off to the basement, where I eat her again. Personally, my dessert of choice. With an hour to go before the guests start arriving, we set the table.
Sanaya wraps her arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest. "We did good, huh?" Her gaze moves over the table. Curried turkey and samosas as promised with chana masala, coconut korma and tandoori shrimp. It smells amazing and I'm actually freakin' excited for dinner.
“We did good.” I run my knuckle over her cheekbone.
When I got off that plane yesterday, I was one heartbeat away from just turning around and heading back to my life in California. But this woman stepped into my life and she blocked my path. She changed everything for me with her crazy antics and her wild spirit and her blazing smile. She changed everything. I don’t know how I’m supposed to walk away from her in a few hours.
"You're fucking amazing, you know that?"
She looks up at me from under her lashes. "I know that," she giggles and then her face goes serious. "but it feels good to hear you say that...'cause I think you're fucking amazing, too." I lean down and press a kiss to her sweet, feisty mouth. I breathe her in, get wrapped up in her. I never realized it could be this easy to form an addiction.
When we hear footsteps shuffling along the hardwood floor, we pull apart. Sanaya giggles, adjusting the neckline of her T-shirt. I see the amusement melt off of her face when she peers around my back.
Annaleigh comes hobbling into the kitchen, gripping the side of her belly. "Guys, these contractions are getting sort of...whoa!"
I dash across the room and brace a hand on my sister's shoulder. "Hey, hey! Are you—?"
A rush of liquid hits the floor and Annaleigh crouches over the back of a kitchen chair. She glances up at me out of the corner of her eye, her face sweaty and flushed. "Yep—so, my water just broke..."
Chapter 10
Sanaya
"Oh my goodness, I can't even believe it. She's so beautiful." I look over at Prescott with wet eyes.
He beams. "Just like her mom, huh?" He can’t even pull his eyes away from his girls.
Presleigh [No Middle Name] Brooks was born at 2:14a.m. on Christmas day. A screaming bundle of love and poop. Her daddy was there, holding her mommy’s hand through it all. And she had a cheerleading squad, about a dozen people strong, enjoying our unorthodox Christmas dinner in the hospital waiting room during the wait.
Annaleigh is exhausted. She's sprawled off against the pillows with her eyes closed and a wide grin on her lips as she rocks her cooing newborn in h
er arms. "I'm just glad that you and Wesley were there to rush me to the hospital when my labor started. Thank you, guys."
Wesley ruffles his little sister's hair. "Well, I'm glad I got to be a part of this day."
Her eyes open slowly and she peers up at him contentedly. “Thanks for being a part of our Christmas, Wes. It turned out to be some much more special than we expected.”
“I love you, little brat.” He pinches her cheek and she swats him away.
“Enough of the poking,” she tells him. “Bring some of that curried turkey over here.”
Wesley and I don’t get to stick around for too long. Cousins and siblings and grandparents and friends are all eager for their turn to meet the brand new baby.
And besides, Wesley has a flight to catch.
The ride to the airport is quiet. Heavy. So much emotion hangs in the air. At least that’s how I feel.
I don’t want him to go.
Thirty-six hours ago, I’d never met this man. But now, I really really really want him to stick around.
It’s not often that I come across a man who can handle my crazy antics, who appreciates my sense of humor, that who can make me lose my train of thought with just a smile flashed my way.
And I’ve definitely never met a man who can make me come so hard that my bones shudder like they’re being sent through the spin cycle.
I’m so gonna have to up my calcium intake after last night.
Fuck—I don’t want him to go.
But I pull on a smile as my car inches up to the curb outside of Departures and I throw the car into park.
Wesley turns to me. He’s wearing a look I can’t quite work out. He smiles but it’s distant. It clashes with the shadow in his eyes. There’s a pang in my stomach. The realization hits me hard and direct.
He doesn’t feel the same.
A ball of anxiety rises into my throat. I feel tears prickling the backs of my eyes. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never been this weak. This vulnerable. I’m the type of girl who reaches out and takes what she wants. If I want a guy, I tell him. I’ve never been shy. So why does this feel so different?
Pushing a smile to my lips is painful but I do it anyway. “So…”
He looks down at his seatbelt. “So…”
“Well, it was really nice meeting you,” I say.
His eyes come to my face. “Nice meeting you, too.”
It feels wrong. The chill between us feels wrong.
This time yesterday, my tonsils were becoming very well-acquainted with the head of his cock. And now this?
Yeah, feels wrong.
He unclasps his seatbelt and sticks his hand out to me. Like we just met at a business conference or something.
Pressing down all the swear words and curses bubbling up into my consciousness, I reach out and let his hand swallow mine up. We shake.
But his lips part and now I’m holding my breath. And then he says…
“…You on Facebook?”
My mouth falls open in disbelief. Is it possible for a person to be such an asshole? I mean, c’mon—the guy’s sperm is literally still making its way through my digestive track right now.
He takes in my expression and busts up laughing. “Come ‘ere!” He clicks open my seatbelt and yanks on my arm, pulling me into his lap.
“What are you doing?” I yelp.
His lips come close to mine. “I’m giving you a proper goodbye.”
He kisses me. Kisses me hard, with everything he’s got. Stealing my breath. Robbing me of my senses. Oh god, this man blows my ever-loving mind.
The sound of horns honking causes us to break apart. Right—I’m in the Departures lane.
“One second!” Wesley gestures to the impatient drivers behind us.
He presses a final kiss to my lips. “Tell me when I can fly you out.”
“What?”
“Tell me when I can fly you out to San Francisco. I want to see you again, Sanaya. I need to.”
My head is spinning. I hate the way he makes me speechless. No one else does.
He examines my flustered expression and laughs. “You didn’t think I’d just let you go, did you? That I’d just get on that plane and never look back?”
“I-I didn’t know what to think…” I say honestly.
“Sanaya—you are the most incredible person I’ve ever met. There’s no way I’m just walking away from you.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I. Want. To. See you. Again.” He stresses each word.
My heart does this incredible athletic manoeuvre, flopping into my belly before rebounding into my throat. I somehow manage to say, “I want to see you, too.”
His eyes shine triumphantly. He does a fist pump. “Yes!”
Horns blast again.
Wesley’s eyes shoot to the line-up accumulating behind us. “One fucking second!”
Giggling, I press my lips to his. I slide back into my seat as he grabs on the lever to open the door. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Talk to you soon.”
He grabs his backpack and hops out the car. He waits on the sidewalk until I’ve driven off.
Oh my god oh my god. I don’t know what the hell this feeling in my stomach is. But I can’t stop grinning. I can’t stop grinning.
Epilogue
Sanaya
(One year later…)
"Ned and Glenda are really going at it over there, huh?" Annaleigh snickers into her palm.
I roll my eyes. "Tell me about it. As if they couldn't wait until they get home."
The two of them have been torturing the rest of the staff with their over-the-top displays of affection for the better part of the calendar year. They’ve treated very office social gathering as an opportunity to grope each other and get drunk. But apparently, the Christmas party still has a special place in their hearts.
Annaleigh waves me off as she grabs another appetizer from the buffet table. “Oh, cut them some slack—they’re newly weds.”
I growl. “They’re exhibitionists. Their marital status is no excuse.”
Yes, I’ll admit it. I’m in a particularly crabby mood at this year’s holiday party. Try as I might, I’m still not able to get into the Christmas spirit. You can’t really blame me—as predicted, things are about to get shaken up big time in my career.
Prescott just got elected mayor of Reyfield.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m proud of him. I’m happy for him. But goddammit—where does that leave me. I’ve been trying to answer that question over the past few weeks and coming up with a blank every time.
I just wish that I could talk to Wesley about it but whenever I bring it up, he seems to change the subject. We’ve been dating for the past year and despite the distance, we managed to grow so close. We videochat everyday and we don’t go more than six weeks without seeing each other. Everything seemed to be going great Up until a few weeks ago.
I don’t know what changed but he’s been antsy, nervous. A part of me says that it’s nothing. He’s just preoccupied with his latest app launch. He’s being backed by a major venture capital firm so there’s a lot riding on this. He’s so busy that he won’t even be coming to visit for Christmas. I’ll be seeing him in San Francisco for the New Year.
He’s just busy. He’s just busy. That’s what I tell myself. But for whatever reason, it feels like there’s something more going on.
Tossing back a big swallow of my champagne, I try to wash the thought down. I won’t even let my mind go to the worst-case scenario because I don’t know how I’d live without him.
Sorry to sound like a 1990s R&B song.
Annaleigh is prattling on, reassuring me that all the pieces of my life will fall into place when I least expect. But I can hardly even hear her.
I’m just so damn anxious. By the time I’m tottering in my heels, it’s clear that I should start going easy on the alcohol. I need to take a little sit down. But Annaleigh’s eyes go to the door and they widen with excitement. She grabs on to my
arm.
My gaze follows hers and through the blur of the glittery tinsel, I see a mirage.
Wesley is moving through the crowd.
My stomach tangles up.
My mind is a drunken haze.
He sees me and he grins so wide it makes my heart hurt. “Hey…”
“Hey…”
Annaleigh pounces on him and they exchange a hug. “I’m gonna give you too some privacy,” she says, waggling her brows suggestively and then disappearing into the crowd.
Dirty Christmas (The Dirty Suburbs Book 9) Page 6
