Winter Wishes

by Vivian Arend, Vivi Andrews

  “Fine, I’ll take the back. But you’re buying me lunch.”

  El froze, turning slowly to face him. “Now you’re okay with it? That easy?”

  Her ice princess expression made his toes curl with need. What he wouldn’t do to arrange a little melting session. He grinned just to watch her reaction. “Which way are we headed and how long a trip?”

  She slammed the extra helmet she held into his chest before shouldering past him to remount the bike. “First star on the right and straight on until morning. And if you ask ‘are we there yet?’ too many times, I’ll use the tranq dart I’ve got and bungee-cord you to the hog.”

  Eight hours later he was ready for her to put him out of his misery. Leaning against her warm body, his hands resting lightly on her hips, nostrils filled with her light scent…His damn dick was the one shouting “is it time?” The fields flying past gave way to low bush, then trees, and she still hadn’t spoken. Not when they made pit stops for gas and coffee, not when he accidentally rubbed a trifle too hard against her butt.

  That wasn’t fucking acceptable, to ignore him and his cock, and all the naughty things he wanted to do to her. He clicked on the mouthpiece of the helmet so they could communicate.

  “So. Christmas with the Clampetts. Tell me what to expect. Mom, Dad—I imagine you’ve been out of the house for a while?” Cats never stayed home once they reached maturity. It wasn’t wise to have too many grown cougars in the same territory. Heck, he’d had his bags packed early, and the day he turned eighteen he’d bee-lined out the door. Of course that was also because his guardian of an uncle was an asshole.

  She didn’t speak for a minute and he wondered if he’d get the silent treatment the entire journey to Timbuktu or wherever the hell they were headed. “Actually, my family is a little different.”

  He waited.

  “There might be a throwback gene or two to humans in our blood. My sisters still live at home. And I’ve got a few younger brothers. For some reason the folks seem to enjoy everyone hanging around. They pride themselves on living more like the local human population than your typical cat clan. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a completely safe place to take you, it’s just that…”

  Her body had grown tense under his grasp and he slid one hand forward to rub her belly. Didn’t know if it made her feel any better. Made him feel a whole lot of things.

  “I haven’t been home since last Christmas,” she confessed.

  “Rightly so. No need to cling to the family. You’re a grown-up. It’s not a crime to move on with your life.”

  Just like he had, although he doubted she had left to escape connections with the ruling family of cougars for the Western Territories. The warm skin under his hand relaxed him enough he would admit, at least to himself, he had joined the CSI as a way out of the societal pressures of his elite family. The image of his Uncle Roy flashed into Kyle’s brain, stirring up dark emotions. After his parents went missing, his obnoxiously strict uncle became temporary regent of the clan. Between that man and propriety-obsessed Aunt Janet, who took over the upbringing of him and his two older brothers, life had changed.

  Kyle paused. That wasn’t completely fair, to blame it all on his uncle and aunt. He wasn’t sure what specifically he would have done differently—as the third son he hadn’t been in line to lead, thank God, and he didn’t have to deal with any diplomatic shit like his second bro. Nope, tradition in the Cougar Ruling Clan meant he had to enter either the priesthood or the police, and he wasn’t about to choose a vocation that required celibacy.

  There was no bloody way he was sharing any of that particular information with El either. If she was determined to keep him under wraps as a simple guy off the street, he could only imagine what she’d do if she found out he was actually third in line for leadership of the cat clans.

  Her sigh echoed through the headset. “Well, around my hometown they make you feel as if it’s a crime to leave. You’re supposed to be there for all the family events, birthdays, anniversaries, first dose of catnip. Drives me stark raving mad.”

  Kyle laughed, happy to get his mind off his past. “Hate to say it, but you do know you’re the normal one? Cats don’t hang in groups. Well…” He rubbed her belly again, dropping his hand to cover her mound lightly “…not unless it’s for a group orgy or something.”

  “Ew, do you mind? This is my family we’re talking about. I think I just threw up a little.”

  “You did mention sisters—”

  She slammed her hand against his and hauled it off where he’d been rubbing between her legs. “Kyle Branegan, I’ll say this once. You want to keep your balls attached, keep the hell away from my sisters. If you feel the need to go tomcatting around—”

  “Slow down, sweetie, just kidding.” He relinquished his grasp, then changed tactics, slipping under her jacket and shirt to slide his palm slowly upward along the smooth warm skin of her belly until he’d captured a breast. She wiggled under him, the bike weaving a little. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything with your sisters. Besides, I’m going to be busy enough taking care of you, right?”

  “This is strictly a business relationship. In spite of the way things started between us, there will be no further funny business.”

  Her nipple had hardened under his palm, and the throaty sound of her voice over the radio speakers said something totally opposite her words.

  “We’re cats, El. You can’t tell me you don’t want me.”

  It was clear her body wanted him. He circled the hard tip of her nipple with a finger and she arched against his hand. If he weren’t wearing the helmet, he would have buried his face in her neck and nibbled his way along her hairline until they had to make an unscheduled pit stop for a session of unrestrained cougar sex.

  When she finally answered him, her voice was controlled and very prim. “I’m going to tell Mom and Dad you’re a friend who needs a place to stay during the holidays. They’ll be delighted to meet you.”

  “Friends, hey? With benefits?”

  “No,” she snapped out. “No benefits. I’ll admit I like you, but that’s entirely beside the point. I’m on a case, and fooling around with you would be wrong.”

  Kyle reluctantly withdrew his hand from under her shirt and resettled more chastely. “Okay.”

  Dead silence. He waited. From the little bit he’d seen of her, teasing could totally go both ways. The surest way to make her want him was to make her admit it to herself.

  “Even if we’re both shifters and the urge was there…and I’m not saying it is, mind you. But if it were, we don’t have to give into it.”

  The urge to snort in disbelief was powerful, but he managed to play it cool. “No problem.”

  She wiggled again, and he grinned at nothing. Me thinketh the lady doth protesteth too much. Face facts—she wanted him too. They were cats after all. This adventure got more interesting all the time.

  “My parents’ house is small—although they did mention adding an addition this past year. Something about making extra room for my brothers. Still, I suspect you’ll be sleeping in the guest room, and I’ll bunk with my sisters.”

  Fuck. Well, he’d find a way around that somehow. Not that sex was all he thought about. Kyle paused for a moment. He was pretty sure there were other things he thought about.

  He shook his head and forced himself to answer her, ignoring the images that leapt to mind of her in the scarlet-red bikini-bra set he’d purchased for her that morning. “No worries then. You’ve got it all figured out. I feel so safe already.”

  She sighed again. “Yeah, except from Christmas overdose. I hope you’re up on your Christmas carols. And you’re not allergic to fruitcake, are you?”

  What the hell? “Why?”

  She took a corner at a slightly-higher-than-suggested speed, and he hung on for dear life. “My parents are kinda big on the holiday. Traditionally, they’ve decorated the bungalow to within an inch of its life. We have deer ornaments on the lawn, North Pole c
andy canes on the roof and a runway for Santa’s sleigh. One year my dad tried to make one of those sequential light displays that made the deer look like they were leaping, but he fell and electrocuted himself, so only Rudolph’s nose flickered.”

  Kyle couldn’t suppress a burst of laughter. “I’m sorry about your dad, but it’s all sounding more and more peachy keen by the minute. Are you sure we don’t want to try for Tahiti instead?”

  He could have sworn she muttered “In my dreams.”

  El fell silent again as they headed into the mountains, and he gave her space. Going home to a situation that made you uncomfortable—yeah, he understood how that would be tough. Good thing he would be around to help her pass the time not spent a-wassailing. He let his mind wander to all the pleasurable Yuletide activities he could dream up. Like wrapping her in tinsel and playing with the sparkling strands until she screamed his name.

  The sky was fading to twilight when she straightened and clicked the radio back on. “A couple more corners. It’s the place on the left, the beige bungalow from Christmas hell. You ready for this?”

  “More than you, I think. You’ve got me curious.”

  Especially when they cruised smoothly around the bend, and there was no bungalow. Instead a huge three-story mansion greeted them, with pristinely groomed lawns and a massive circular driveway. The only part she’d gotten right was the gaudy decorations. Kyle had never seen so many twinkling lights in his life. El swung to a stop at the enormous stone gatehouse blocking the entrance and they both removed their helmets to stare in amazement. Lights flickered, music blared and there was a life-sized mannequin dressed in a Santa suit crawling in and out of the chimney.

  Chapter Three

  The stages of crisis—El figured she went through them in under thirty seconds flat. Denial, anger, acceptance…No, that last one didn’t trigger as quickly.

  This was impossible.

  “Ms. Eloise, how good to see you again!”

  El swung to the right to discover a familiar face moving toward them. Although the last time she’d seen the old man he’d been partially hidden under a newspaper on a park bench, not dressed in a sharp blue uniform with a matching cap.

  “Mr. McKintly? What are you doing here?”

  He brushed his fingers along the brim of his cap and gave a smart little bow. “I’m moving up in the world, I am. Your folks, good as gold they are, were kind enough to give an old pensioner a little taste of the good life. Easy job, if I can say so. Go on up, I’ll radio ahead you’ve arrived.” He slipped back into the gatehouse before she could pry any further information out of him.

  She was sure her jaw was on the ground as she faced where her childhood home had stood. Had she taken a few wrong turns? Hit a temporal anomaly and warped into an alternative universe?

  “Troubles?”

  Shit. She’d been so shocked by the non-appearance of her parent’s house, she’d actually forgotten about Kyle for a minute. That’s when she knew this wasn’t a dream, because only a hard slap of reality could make her forget the cougar who had her panties soaking wet simply from leaning his warm torso against hers for the past nine hours, twenty-three minutes and fifty-seven seconds.

  “That’s not my house.” Maybe if she said it often enough the world would realign itself.

  A pair of arms circled her and she found herself being patted comfortingly on the back. The warmth of his touch soothed her, not to mention her nose was buried against his chest and he smelled So. Damn. Good.

  “Family. Never know what they’re going to do next to drive us mad, eh?”

  She fought the giggles. They were a damn good indicator that she was on the edge of hysteria. “Yeah, damn, hey? Tear down the family home with the rickety playground set and the tire swing, and pop up Windsor Palace in its place. How inconsiderate of them.”

  “There’s still a tire swing.”

  He released her, and she spun. Sure enough, off to the left of the monstrosity of a house the solid oak spread its limbs, and dangling beneath it was the old tire she and her sisters had sat upon for hours, planning what they would do to escape into the “real world.”

  And something settled inside her. The whole world wasn’t screwed up. She eyed the house. Well, a large portion of it was, but still…

  “Come on, Kyle. Let’s go see what the hell is up.”

  * * *

  El parked them to the side of the wide front staircase, squaring her shoulders as she gestured them forward. “I have no idea what’s going on, but let me do the talking. Follow my lead, okay?”

  He nodded, slinging the bike bags over his shoulder. “I’ll be as meek as a kitten. Trust me.” She narrowed her eyes for a second, and he grinned. “Really.”

  Kyle glanced around as they paced the mile to the front door. The place was a little reminiscent of his own childhood home—not that he’d tell her that—only this house had something extra to it. Yeah, it was big, as in really big, makes-a-guy-want-to-shift-and-start-marking-territory big, but it wasn’t all fancy-dancy like his aunt had decorated their Colorado mansion.

  The stairs were wood, not marble, the railings made of lodge pole pine or something close to it. The place wasn’t constructed entirely of log, but there were log features everywhere.

  There were signs of kids everywhere, as well. A pair of tricycles stood beside a rustic porch swing. Rubber boots were piled high at the far end of the porch, and faintly in the distance the high-pitched tones of children’s voices rang.

  “How many brothers and sisters did you say—?”

  The massive front doors swung open, interrupting his question, and a solid woman burst out, her plain blue cotton dress severely out of place next to the life-sized ornamental Santa Claus that jiggled and roared ho, ho, ho as she triggered the motion sensor.

  “Eloise Inez! Oh my baby, it’s so good to have you home!”

  El was snatched up in the woman’s arms and spun in circles as if she weighed no more than a child of five. Her face, during the brief glimpses Kyle caught as she spun rapidly past, was halfway between happy and totally mortified. He leaned back on one of the vertical porch posts and grinned at the homecoming, damn grateful it was her, not him, being manhandled.

  A light thump sounded on his right, and he glanced to the side where a huge cougar body unwound from where he’d landed. The beast, who was slightly graying around the whiskers, padded straight in Kyle’s direction.

  It would have been more frightening if a) Kyle weren’t pretty damn sure this was El’s dad, b) the cougar didn’t have a Santa hat tied to its head and c) Kyle weren’t even bigger in his own cougar form.

  There were times that, dammit all, size did matter.

  He bowed politely though. If there was anything his upbringing had taught him, it was that it never hurt to go through the motions.

  “Daddy!” El untangled herself from her mom’s greeting and threw herself at her father, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tight. The beast licked the side of her face, his huge tongue covering most of her skin all at the same time and she laughed. “I missed you too.”

  “We were so pleased to hear you could make it home. We’ve got so much to tell you.” El kept one arm wrapped around her father’s neck as she turned her face toward her mom.

  “Um, yeah. A few teeny tiny details. Like, what happened to the house?”

  Mrs. Scott crossed her arms in front of her and straightened slightly. “I told you we had renovations done.”

  The exasperation in El’s voice made Kyle smile. “Mom. Renovations are adding on a couple rooms for the boys, or finally fixing the hole in the wall cousin Gertrude made when she had that attack of vertigo while in cougar form. But all this? Since last Christmas? And the cost—how could you afford this?”

  Her mother shrugged. “Just a spot of luck at the casino.”

  “A spot? How did I miss hearing about this?”

  “Well, I had told you we had a surprise to tell you, but you’ve been too bus
y in your big city life to come back for a visit.” Mr. Scott rumbled softly, his huge cougar head swaying from side to side, and his wife nodded in agreement. “Papa is right. We’ll explain everything, but not out here on the porch. We’ve got all the holiday to catch you up to speed.”

  Then suddenly there were three sets of eyes all gazing intently at him, and Kyle shifted uneasily on his feet. It was a little too homey for him at the moment. He didn’t really need to do this, did he? He cleared his throat and considered shifting and making a break for it.

  El shot to her feet and returned to his side. “Mom, Daddy. This is Kyle Branegan. He’s going to join us for the holidays. I hope that’s all right with you.”

  “Evening, ma’am. Sir. Very nice to meet you.”

  He was eyeballed like a piece of Grade A beef hanging at the butcher shop. They were probably considering what wicked cat-shifter things he and their daughter were up to, and wondering if they could bury his body under the concrete of the new swimming pool. Or…maybe not, because Mrs. Scott made a face, then dismissed him with a happy grin. “No troubles at all, Eloise Inez. There’s a spare room off the nursery, next door to the little boys.”

  “That would be fine.” It would be too. He could go play hide and seek in the dark hallways after everyone was in bed. Following El’s delicate scent would be a pleasure.

  A crowd poured out the door and surrounded them. There were children of all sizes, their happy voices ringing as they crawled over El. Kyle did his best to count, but they never stayed still. Then there were small creatures around his own ankles and he had to struggle to stay vertical. A couple of the youngest accidentally shifted to cat form, their clothes bunching around their furry bodies and Kyle snatched one up a second before it hit the porch deck.

  “Hey, Elly, ’bout time you made it home.” A throaty voice tickled his eardrums and he glanced over to discover a pair of gorgeous twins strolling through the door. The one on the right spotted him, her eyes widening as she ate him up with her gaze. “Hmm, and you brought us a Christmas present. How sweet of you.”