The Rock Star's Christmas Reunion: contemporary holiday romance (A Charisma series novel, The Connollys Book 1)

by Heather Hiestand

  “No time like the present.” His voice enticed her, made her tingle in all the right places.

  She tried to be practical. “If we eat late. I won’t get home to shower until at least six-thirty. I have to go back to the kitchen after the bazaar is over.”

  “No problem.”

  “Are you sure? We’re both so tired.”

  “Why don’t we go to the movies? The mall has one of those theaters where we can eat and watch at the same time.”

  “I might have energy to lift food to my mouth. Probably not that and talk,” she said. “Sounds perfect.”

  He unlocked his phone and pulled up a movie website. They agreed on a holiday romantic comedy and a seven-fifteen start time.

  Bax set his cup in the sink. “What all needs to be done so you can get out of here?”

  “Trash needs to go out, and the floors need to be swept and vacuumed. I’m almost done with the kitchen.”

  “My cleaning service comes Monday. I can live with the crumbs for a day. Why don’t I help you pack out of here, so you can take a breath before the bazaar?”

  “Are you sure? Cleaning up after is part of my service.”

  “I don’t want you exhausted and you have the house back under control. We’re good.”

  She caved in immediately. “You get all the points, dude. Thank you.”

  He grinned and kissed her cheek. “All the points, huh. I’ll have fun thinking about what I can cash them in for later.”

  ~

  Bax thought he’d preorder the tickets on a movie app on his phone but when he tried to, he discovered the show was sold out. He texted Yakima to see if anything else sounded good, but nothing else appealed to her. Instead, they’d have to do takeout and an on demand movie. Only a few minutes behind schedule, he dashed out the door, drove to the restaurant he’d ordered from over the phone, grabbed the food, then went to pick up Yakima.

  She opened her door, looking cozy in jeans and a fleece jacket. The scarf around her neck hid her shirt. He hoped it wasn’t a turtleneck. They were tough to navigate.

  “Warm enough?” he asked.

  “Sure, we’re just going to the mall.”

  “Actually,” he said slowly, “We’re dining this evening at Casa Connolly. The movie was sold out.”

  She adjusted her scarf. “Oh? Is that why you texted me?”

  “Yes, but I have a big TV and we can order anything we want to watch. And I bought out the new Greek place. The food is in the back seat.” He pointed.

  “Works for me.” She closed her door behind her. In Crocs, she appeared to be limping as she took his hand and walked down the front steps to the driveway.

  “What happened?” he asked as he opened the car door for her.

  “Knocked my little toe against a cart,” she said as she stepped on the runner and climbed into the seat. “Hasn’t stopped hurting yet.”

  “Need me to give it a kiss?” he teased.

  She poked his arm. “Maybe later, big boy. First you’re going to have to get some caffeine into me or I’m not going to make it through any movie.”

  “Is my coffee maker or espresso machine good enough? Or we can pick up sodas.”

  “Coffee is perfect,” she said. “Especially decent stuff. That coffee maker at the community center spits out the most rank brew you can imagine.”

  “Needs to be cleaned,” he said. “I became the machine expert in rehab.” Feeling suddenly self-conscious, he shut the passenger door. She knew about his past, but he felt like tonight would take them beyond casual for the first time. Did Battlefield’s Sweetheart really want to be involved with a recovering drug addict?

  When he opened his own door, she continued like he hadn’t abruptly paused the conversation. “Would you volunteer to clean the community center machine? We could use an expert.”

  “Sure, not a problem.”

  “Cool. I’m getting to know the city council members, so I’ll get permission. If the bazaar wasn’t over I’d just tell you to go in and take over, but thankfully we’re through.”

  “Did you sell everything?”

  “A good eighty percent. We did great. And I did sell the gingerbread house.” She paused. “And two more.”

  “So none for me?”

  “We can do three at once. I have everything to assemble the first two because we always bake two at once in case of structural failure.” She chuckled. “I sound like an old hand, instead of someone who just started a business.”

  He started his SUV and reversed down the driveway. “It’s exciting, though. You’re getting enough work to keep both you and my cousin busy. Think about how nervous you were just a couple of weeks ago.”

  “You, too. This party was such as success. Locals, family, celebrities. You killed it.”

  His mouth set in a firm line as he remembered exactly why he didn’t feel quite so happy about the previous night. “Except for the Remy and Dare disaster. I’m afraid I complicated the situation even more with him. It’s not that I don’t care about her, but—”

  “Bros before hos,” she said. “Not that I’m calling Remy a ho, it’s just a phrase.”

  “I know.” He smirked at the idea of Yakima going gangsta bitch on him.

  When he pulled up to his driveway, he saw the first hints of ice glistening where the road met the slight incline toward his garage. “Going to be a cold night. Guess you’d better stay over for safety.”

  “Now you tell me.” She yawned. “The truth is, I’m going to be snoring on the couch in an hour. First though, I’m going to eat. Whatever you bought for dinner smells delicious.”

  “Vegetarian gyros. I guess they have a lot of avocado in them.” He drove into the open bay of his garage and turned off the engine.

  “Yummy,” she said on another yawn.

  She had her door open and was climbing down before he finished messing around in the back seat with the food. “What room are we heading into?”

  “Upstairs. I turned the bedroom on the rear right into a TV and game room.”

  “Okay. I’ll get some coffee going and meet you up there.”

  She went into the kitchen and he headed straight for the stairs with the food. He’d queue up their movie options before she made it up and adjust his expectations. Yakima was exhausted. Maybe the holidays were poor timing for a red hot date with a caterer.

  By the time she came up, he had his shoes off and his flannel shirt unbuttoned. The room was warm and he’d found a Pendleton wool throw to wrap over them. The television display showed a row of holiday romantic comedies.

  “Oh, let’s watch The Holiday,” she said, as soon as she appeared. “I love Kate Winslet.”

  “Works for me.” He bought the movie with a few flicks of the remote and opened Styrofoam containers of salad and gyro for her.

  “I couldn’t find any trays.” She yawned.

  “I wasn’t really thinking of this as a snacking room,” he admitted. “I tend to do the sit at the table thing. My mom was a stickler for family meals, and I can’t snack and stay in fighting condition.”

  “I’m glad you kept some of her traditions. It’s so hard to lose someone.”

  “Yeah. I was not happy when my party turned into a remember Tricia-fest. I didn’t have a clue that my father still wasn’t celebrating Christmas. He’d sent me so many photos over the years. I never picked up on the lack of Christmas in them.”

  “You’ve been gone a long time. It’s helped you move on. Which is wonderful, you know. Now you’ve figured out how you can make life better for your family.”

  “Have I?” His laugh sounded harsh to his ears. “I offered to take Dare on a vacation. He blew me off. Niall is fine.”

  “It’s a process. Give them time. Not everyone will fall into your arms like I have.”

  “Yeah?” The movie started to play, and he settled next to her, his arm brushing hers. How long would it take before they were finished with their food and could start getting cozy? He needed to find the
sweet spot between digestion and slumber.

  “Yeah.” She took a long gulp of her coffee, then set it down on the fairly flat leather ottoman and picked up her gyro. “Yum. This looks messy.”

  He handed her a wad of paper napkins. “If we run out, I’ll take off my shirt and let you use it.”

  “What a gentleman.”

  He grinned at her. “Anything to get some of our clothes off. Can I use your shirt?”

  She wiped a drop of coffee from her lip. “With that logic, I’m amazed you brought napkins at all.”

  He stared at her mouth. “Forget it. I’ll just lick you clean.”

  Her attention drifted to the enormous screen as the opening scene began as if she hadn’t heard him. “You haven’t even offered to show me the rest of your tattoos.”

  He shrugged out of his flannel over-shirt, knowing he was losing her to the movie. “Hey, anytime now.”

  She shushed him. “Quiet. Kate Winslet is speaking.”

  Chapter Ten

  Bax nuzzled Yakima’s cheek with his lips. “Are we really going to watch this? You’re sleepy already.”

  “Don’t you want to eat?” Yakima pointed at his containers of untouched Greek food.

  His stomach growled. “Actually, yes.”

  Her gaze went back to the television. “There you go. Your stomach’s talking. I admit the ladies are really overacting in this one, but it’s sweet. And the houses are perfect. Is your house in L.A. like Cameron Diaz’s?”

  “I have a pool, but my house is much cozier than that. I bought it for the view. It’s up in the hills.” He opened his gyro box.

  “Cool.” She downed her coffee as he ate.

  “This might be a good time for me to mention that I was at the premier of this movie back when it opened.”

  She straightened. “You were?”

  “Yes. That was during my boy band days, right?” He reflected. “Yeah, I had a date with one of the extras from a party scene. Pretty girl.”

  “What was her name?”

  He shrugged. “I think we went on tour right after that. Long time ago.”

  “Did you meet Kate or Cameron?”

  “I know Cameron. Met her several times.”

  “I suppose she lives in your world. Married to a rocker and all.”

  “I’m country now, babe.” He cocked his head and gave her the Will Dealy “Aw shucks” grin.

  She laughed. “Small town maybe, but not country.”

  They stared at each other. He had no idea what she was thinking. Frustrating.

  “What did it mean that Will Dealy was here?” she asked. “Are you going back to Nashville now?”

  “Could we just think about ourselves for once? We’re alone. Remy’s gone. I’m not stressing about my family. Or yours.”

  “I’d like to know if you’re trying to get with me for just a couple of weeks. If there’s, like,” she waved her hands. “An end date.”

  The breath left his lungs. “You want a commitment?”

  “Of course not, but I don’t want to be a fool. Girls come up with all kinds of fantasies about guys like you.” She smiled. “I want to know what’s real and what I’m imagining.”

  “What are you imagining?”

  “We’re two single, consenting adults with our own houses,” she said.

  He shivered when he heard the husky tone in her voice. “Yes, we are.”

  “All the barriers have been stripped away,” she continued.

  He nodded, found his hand on the remote. After he pressed one button, Jack Black’s earnest face faded to black. “Do you want to stay in here?”

  “You have a bedroom.”

  “Several,” he agreed.

  She pushed herself to her knees. He found himself eye level with her cleavage. The zipper of her fleece sweater had slid down, letting him see how little she had underneath. Just something edged in lace, the white a gorgeous contrast with her bourbon skin. As intoxicating as the liquor, the sight of those dark shadows between her breasts.

  Instead of touching her where he wanted to, he put his hands on her shoulders. Her mouth was open; he could see she breathed as fast as he did. Arousal glazed her eyes. He’d seen the look on many women’s faces, but it had never meant much to him before now. Yakima had known him forever, since long before he’d been famous. She still found him attractive, now that he was little more than plain Bax Connolly again, the kid with the mentally ill mother and too large, too chaotic family.

  He slid his hands across the nubby fleece, then to the soft skin of her neck, tickling the hairs at the base of her skull. She tipped back, her eyelids shuttering, and he closed his lips over hers. He nipped her.

  Her eyes opened. “What?”

  He grinned. “Just making sure you were still awake.”

  She swatted his chest. “Jerk.”

  He was laughing when he kissed her again. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his waist. He was just thinking about checking out those breasts again when she pulled away.

  “You promised me more tattoos.” Her eyes gleamed.

  “Really?”

  She nodded. Her lips were damp and reddened by their kisses.

  “That turns you on? Do you have any?”

  “No.” She pulled his arm toward her, the one with the wrist tattoo. “Relax,” she read. “I like that.”

  She unzipped her sweater and tossed it aside. Underneath, he saw she had two layers on, a cream camisole and a bra.

  “There’s more.” He pulled off his T-shirt. “You next.”

  “I took off a layer. It’s not my fault I had more on than you.”

  “I already took a shirt off. Lose the camisole or I won’t let you read my other arm tattoo.”

  She pouted, then pulled off the camisole and reached for his arm. “I’m blue sky dreaming, all wishes reality, I’m freedom claiming,” she read. “A haiku, right?”

  “Yes, and you need to take that bra off.”

  She unsnapped the back and let the straps fall down her arms. Her exhaustion had vanished for now. He saw the challenge mixing with the heat in her gaze. “Well?”

  “Perfect. My mouth is literally watering.”

  She picked up one of his hands and placed it between her breasts.

  “Sweet,” he breathed. “Permission.” He palmed both of her breasts, feeling the tight points under his hands. “All wishes, reality, right here.”

  She put her hands over his. “I haven’t heard the description of a single chest tattoo yet.”

  He pointed to his chest. “Broken heart over my heart.”

  “Pretty obvious,” she said. “But what is with the orca over your intestines?”

  “The orca is my animal totem. I know it sounds stupid. I’m not Native American, but we did this dream meditation a long time ago, ten years or so, and orca is what came to me.”

  “Powerful totem,” she commented. “I don’t know a lot about that kind of thing, but there’s no reason you can’t have an animal totem. You never make the same mistake twice, that’s what an orca is supposed to mean, right?”

  “Sounds good to me. Plenty of mistakes I’d like not to make again.”

  She let her hands fall.

  “Oh, Yakima,” he whispered. He’d never seen a more beautiful pair of breasts. Going to his knees on the carpet, he reached for her hips and pulled her against him, and set his lips to one breast. She cradled his head between her hands as his mouth slid to her nipple. He licked her, feeling her chest kick with a startled gasp.

  “Startled you,” he said softly.

  “More.”

  He moved his attention to the other nipple. Her breasts weren’t small, but had a lot of sensation. He knew if he took the time to unbutton her jeans, he’d find her slippery and wet, ready for him. “So responsive.”

  She moaned and tugged his hair. He moved his tongue to her other nipple, and used his fingers to keep stimulating her other one. She pressed her inner thighs against him, openi
ng her legs. He caught the scent of her arousal and couldn’t take it anymore. His hands went to the front of her jeans.

  “Yes, take them off,” she begged. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

  He opened his mouth, taking in as much of her breast as his jaw would allow. She cried out as he roughly pulled the buttonholes over the buttons. He pushed her back on the sofa so he could get them over her hips, hoping she hadn’t bothered with panties, but when he saw the scrap of black lace covering her mons, his erection throbbed with approval.

  He forced his gaze to her face. “You’re perfect, Yakima. Absolutely perfect.”

  Her smile was sultry. “You’re overdressed.” She kicked her jeans off the bottom half of her legs.

  He debated kissing her over her panties or just tearing them off. Tearing had just about won when he heard the doorbell. Her hand had been on his, urging him to take action. It stiffened over his hand.

  “What was that?”

  “Effing doorbell.”

  “Now?”

  “Now,” he agreed as it rang again. And again.

  “Persistent. Who is it?”

  “Haldana?” he guessed. “I don’t know.”

  She swore. “Do you have to get it?”

  The doorbell rang again. He heard a shout, a man’s voice? “Sounds urgent. I’m in hell.”

  She pushed him gently. “Duty calls.”

  He grabbed his T-shirt, hoping it was long enough to cover the bulge in his jeans. “I have never been so sorry in my life.”

  She just stared at him, longing in every plane of her face. “Hurry back.”

  It felt like dying to leave a beautiful, willing, wanting woman on the sofa. The problem with dating the town sweetheart was she wouldn’t be selfish. Of course she’d want him to answer the door.

  Instead of Haldana, he found his brother at the door, unshaven, his hand up against the fresh white paint on the wall next to the door. He shifted unsteadily. At least he didn’t have an open container in his hands.

  “Dare,” Bax said.

  “Baxter Henry Connolly,” Dare slurred. “You son of a bitch.”

  “Keep your voice down. What did I do now?”

  “You have a triple-wide lot. No one’s gonna hear nothing.”