Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5)

by Jami Davenport

  Estie glanced back at Lavender, who was wiping her eyes, while Tyler stared straight into space, not blinking or cracking a smile. Trouble in paradise for sure.

  Estie sighed. She had enough issues. Her brother was on his own with Lavender, but that didn’t mean Estie wouldn’t give him a piece of her mind.

  Richard shrugged and patted her arm, to catch her attention. “My parents are expecting us in a half hour.”

  Estie scowled. “We haven’t eaten yet, and we were with your parents last night.” And it had been pure hell. She’d be damned if she’d spend a second straight night in with Richard’s family.

  “You know how my mother is.” Richard’s voice took on that whiny tone when he was pleading with her.

  Boy, did she ever. “Today is my family’s turn. Your family had Christmas Eve. You go ahead if you must. I’m not going.”

  Disappointment spread across Richard’s face, causing a twinge of guilt. Damn it, she would not cave. She was not going with him. Not this time. His parents hogged all of the holidays. If they were going to be married, the Michaels needed to learn to share.

  “I guess I’ll go without you, honey, but it won’t be the same,” Richard sniffed, as if she’d broken his heart. She hated it when he did that, or maybe it was his passive-aggressive guilt trips she hated.

  “Merry Christmas.” Estie smiled sweetly, torn between her sense of duty to family and her fiancé but determined for once to hold her ground.

  Merry Christmas shouted the members of her family. Not one of them made even a token attempt to convince Richard to stay. Reality hit her head on like a collision with a semi-truck. Her family was actually glad to see him go. Every one of them.

  Even worse, so was she.

  * * * * *

  Brett blew out his held breath. In fact, all the tension in the room deflated like a pricked balloon as soon as the door shut behind Estie’s fiancé. Obviously, Brett wasn’t the only one who didn’t care much for the guy. He didn’t get why a wonderful woman like Estie would even be interested in Richard, unless he was good in bed. The thought of that man pawing Estie almost made Brett retch.

  And their marriage? The weekend after the Super Bowl. If that didn’t make Brett queasy, he didn’t know what would.

  “Thank God that wuss is gone.” Tyler poured a shot of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. He wiped his mouth with his sweater sleeve.

  Lavender swatted him. “Ty, behave yourself.”

  “That’s not the song you were singing last night, honey.”

  “Tyler.” His mother spoke like a woman ready to put her son in a corner for the rest of the night. “He’s going to be your brother-in-law.”

  “I don’t need a fucking brother-in-law that’s a pansy-ass.” Tyler didn’t seem to notice the daggers his mother shot at him; obviously his language and his attitude were par for the course. Brett suspected he’d gotten into lots of trouble growing up and was immune to being scolded.

  “Hey, I’m just saying what everyone in this room is thinking. The guy’s a tool.”

  “No one would be good enough for Estie in your eyes,” Derek said, not refuting Tyler’s statement, and Derek usually liked everyone. In fact, in silent support of his cousin, Derek poured a shot and swallowed it, even though it made him gag.

  “Someone needs to watch out for her.” Tyler snorted and put back another shot of whiskey, obviously working on a good drunk.

  “I take care of myself just fine, and Richard adores me.” Estie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her brother, but her doubts were growing.

  Tyler just raised both eyebrows and grinned.

  “The food’s getting cold,” Rachel called from the dining room as she placed the last bowl on the table and waved them over.

  They jockeyed for position at the table, and Brett found himself seated next to Estie in the seat that would’ve been Richard’s. Brett couldn’t help but think he was in the right place, wrong time.

  Derek’s father, Cole Ramsey, the family patriarch, carved the turkey. Brett had heard Estie’s father had died from a sudden heart attack when his children were still in college. He didn’t know much more, other than rumors the man had been a fighter pilot and a great father.

  Brett held his own in the resulting melee that was this family’s Christmas dinner. He wasn’t a stranger to big family dinners and the dysfunction and drama that goes with them. For example, Rachel’s brother, Mitch, didn’t seem overly impressed with Derek, his brother-in-law. Freddie belittled Estie every chance she got. Their mother ran interference and tried to keep her brood from killing each other. Cole attempted to control the loud, rowdy crowd then finally retreated to his food and Scotch, obviously deciding to let the kids have at it as long as there wasn’t bloodshed.

  Brett couldn’t imagine this boisterous crowd with little kids thrown in. The thought had him smiling. Imagine that, a loner like him actually enjoyed all these people. For a moment, he pictured himself in the middle of all this, instigating some good pranks on Tyler with Derek and Zach’s help. Yeah, it’d be fun to get even with the guy who’d been relentlessly driving Brett into an early grave, though he couldn’t fault his try or his intentions.

  “How you holding up, Brett?” Derek asked from the side opposite Estie. “This group can be overwhelming.”

  “I’m fine. It’s fun.”

  “I’ve heard us described lots of ways, but fun has never been one of them.” Derek laughed.

  Freddie smiled, a very rare smile for her. “Yeah, remember a few years ago? Derek and Rachel took a waterfront walk in downtown Seattle early Christmas day and came back with a dozen Russian sailors who were in port for the holidays.”

  Tyler almost snorted up his mashed potatoes and gravy. “Hell, yeah, Derek’s always bringing home strays, just like Estie, but the human kind. None of us spoke Russian, and they didn’t speak English.”

  Estie turned to Brett, her eyes shining. “We communicated via charades and sign language.”

  “Hey, it was one of the most entertaining Christmases I’ve had in a long time.” Derek spoke up.

  “Yeah, though I liked the year we invited the senior center group over. They were a hoot.” Tyler argued.

  Estie explained for Brett. “Tyler loves animals and old people.”

  Interpreting Brett’s open-mouthed expression as disbelief, Lavender jumped in to explain. “Tyler has a soft spot for geriatric veterans and homeless animals even though he’ll never own up to it.”

  “I own up to it. I’m turning Harris Mansion into a retreat for disabled veterans.” Tyler crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, as if he’d been insulted.

  “It doesn’t matter what we do for Christmas as long as we spend it together,” Cole Ramsey interrupted and raised his glass.

  “Here, here,” they all shouted in chorus, clinking glasses together. Brett watched it all with sense of envy, part of the group but not belonging, always on the outside looking in. Hell, he felt that way even in his own family.

  After an excellent dinner, the best Brett had ever eaten, complete with homemade pies for dessert, he joined the men around the bar in that age-old ritual of drinking while the women cleaned up. Only it didn’t quite work out that way. The next thing he knew, he was standing in the kitchen wearing Estie’s blue apron and holding a dish towel. Tyler stood at the kitchen sink washing pots and pans too large for the dishwasher and wearing Lavender’s pink apron as if it didn’t put one tiny dent in his manhood. Only Harris could carry that off. Zach and Derek were clearing the tables, wiping counters, and loading the dishwasher. No one complained much after the initial mutiny by the women, and Brett suspected that the men did KP duty after every family meal.

  With all of them working in tandem while the women stood around the bar and drank wine, they finished up pretty quickly even if the kitchen wasn’t as spotless as it could be. Puddles of soapy water dotted the floor and sticky spots remained on the counter.

  Tyler stood back and
surveyed their work. “Good enough for the girls we go with,” he announced with a grin and made a beeline for the bar. Brett followed him, accepting a shot of whiskey for his trouble. He put back the shot and found another one in his hand. Tyler grinned at him.

  “Hey, you trying to get me drunk? I thought we were going to HQ to study film?”

  “We are.” Tyler grinned right back, his eyes glassy and his body swaying a bit.

  Estie grabbed Brett’s arm, surprising him with her tight grip, but then she’d been nipping at the brandy-infused eggnog. “Do you sing?”

  “Uh, not unless I have to.”

  “That’s good enough. Sit.” She pulled him across the room and pushed him down on a piano bench giving him no option but to stay there as she crowded next to him. “What’s first, gang?”

  Brett had never been involved in a Christmas in which the entire family sang Christmas carols. In fact, his family usually spent the time fighting or glued to the TV. Enjoying each other’s company was not an option.

  Estie played the piano with the talent of a master musician and sang in a sweet, lilting voice. The rest of the family gathered round, singing like the von Trapp family from The Sound of Music. Since he had a little buzz going, Brett joined in. He might not have the best voice in the world, but he could hold a tune.

  The time flew by. Before Brett knew it, they’d been singing for over an hour. Finally, the party began to break up, as people packed up their stuff and said their goodbyes.

  Reluctantly, Brett stood, taking his cue from the others who were heading for the door. He’d been drinking coffee since the singing started and was good to drive.

  Estie touched his arm. “Do you mind giving me a ride home? It’s a little too cold and dark to walk.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I need to check on the horses first. Besides, I think you’d like to meet them.”

  “I’d love to.” Brett forced the excitement out of his voice so he wouldn’t sound like a pathetic sap.

  Hurriedly, he said his goodbyes and thank-yous and followed Estie out the door. He helped her into his SUV and drove down the icy driveway to the large horse barn at the bottom of the hill.

  Estie flipped on the lights right inside the barn door and paused for a moment. She turned to him, her eyes smiling in the dim barn light. “I love the smell of horses, and there’s nothing more soothing than the sound of horses munching hay.”

  Brett listened for a moment and nodded. She was right. Truly right.

  She grabbed some carrots from a bin near the door and led him down the immaculate aisleway. A large black horse stuck his head over the half door and studied them with large, intelligent, kind eyes. The animal made a deep guttural sound, which Brett interpreted as a welcome.

  Estie stopped in front of the horse’s stall. “This is Tyler’s horse, Rowdy. Ty used to rope off him years ago. Now Rowdy just goes on trail rides, much to his dismay. He loved the cattle work.”

  Brett scratched the horse on his broad forehead. Rowdy turned his head sideways and stuck out his lower lip, looking so ridiculous Brett had to chuckle.

  Estie put her hand out flat with the carrot resting her palm. “When you feed a horse, make sure you keep your fingers out of the way.”

  Brett watched her and imitated her. “His lips are so soft, like velvet.” He looked up at Estie in wonder. She smiled back at him, warming his entire body on the chilly Christmas night.

  “Aren’t they? I just love horses.”

  “I’ve never been around them. I’m a city boy.”

  “My offer to teach you to ride is still open.”

  “I’d love to learn to ride.” Bad idea, Einstein. But he didn’t give a shit what a bad idea it was to spend more time with this woman. He couldn’t help himself. He needed her like a drug addict needed his next fix.

  She turned to him, all bundled up in her leather jacket, a purple scarf wound around her neck, her cheeks flushed from the cold—or he assumed it was the cold.

  Her smile lit up his soul. The fond expression in her eyes lit up his heart. And other parts of her lit up other parts of him. For a moment they stared in each other’s eyes. He took a tentative step toward her. She put her hand on his bicep as if to stop him, only she didn’t. Her lips parted in silent invitation, even as doubt creased her brow.

  And fuck, he wanted to answer that invitation. Wearing those little black boots with the heels makes her an inch taller than him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but the closeness of their bodies and souls. Even though their bodies weren’t touching, the electrical current flowing between them bound them together, making him dizzy.

  One more step. Only a whisper separated their bodies.

  He laid a hand on her shoulder, and she sucked a breath through her teeth. Her blue eyes hypnotized him and decimated his good sense. Her inviting lips parted, and she leaned into his chest, closing that minute space between them and destroying his resolve to do the right thing.

  He could’ve resisted, could’ve walked away, but when her chest pressed against his and her sweet breath feathered across his lips, he willingly left earth for oblivion. He had to taste her, take just a sample to satisfy his hunger.

  Their lips touched. Hers were petal soft and moist. Like a good wine they intoxicated him, weakened his knees, and sent him spinning in slow, lazy circles. He pulled her closer, his arms tight around her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing in short, raspy gasps. He slid his tongue inside her mouth, exploring every sweet recess with dizzying intensity.

  She buried her fingers in his hair, holding him closer as her tongue danced a sexy dance with his, their lips getting to know each other better. A lot better.

  Brett’s heart slammed into his rib cage, and he forgot how to breathe. He pushed her onto the top of a grain bin, and she wrapped her long, heaven-sent legs around his waist. His dick ached painfully as she rubbed her crotch against his. Brett groaned an almost inhuman sound he didn’t recognize as coming from his own mouth.

  Nearby, a horse snorted.

  Some shred of sanity penetrated his brain.

  Estie was engaged to be married. Engaged. It didn’t matter if he liked the guy or not, Estie belonged to someone, and that someone was not him. No matter what anyone took from him, he’d always had his honor.

  With superhuman willpower, Brett backed away, his entire body shaking from the effort. Estie tried to follow after him, but he held both her arms and kept her a good two feet away from him. She blinked several times, her face flushed, her breathing in short gasps. Finally she shook her head and backed up a few steps.

  Brett stared and his feet and mumbled, “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.” He glanced up at her. She still looked shell-shocked.

  “It’s…it’s okay. It was nothing. We just got caught up in the moment. A little too much alcohol and some of that Christmas magic that makes the world a totally different place than it really is.” The sadness in her eyes sucker punched him in the gut. He knew that sadness. He lived with it every day.

  She’d nailed it. He’d been in a surreal world with her these past few hours and had truly forgotten about harsh reality.

  “I’d better get you home.”

  “Yes, you’d better.” She hugged herself as if she were cold, but Brett doubted it. If anything they were both way too fucking hot. He took her home, the silence stretching between them, watched until she was safely inside her home and drove off.

  He was crazy if he thought he could live below her and keep his hands off her.

  Chapter 7

  Stacking the Line

  “You’re what?” Richard’s mouth dropped open, and he shook his head, as if to clear it.

  “I’m renting my basement apartment to Brett Gunnels.” Estie shrugged and gnawed on a piece of celery from her salad. Staring out the window of the little waterfront café in downtown Seattle, she watched a ferry motor out of Elliot Bay and wished she were on that ferry headin
g to parts unknown.

  “Now, dear, do you really think that’s a good idea? What kind of impression does that give our friends that you’re renting a room to a single man?” He turned on his syrupy sweet voice that didn’t really work for her anymore.

  “Friends? Like your country club cronies?” Leave it to Richard, always thinking about appearances. “And it’s not a room; it’s an apartment with a separate entrance.”

  “He’s interested in you, and I think you’re sending him the wrong message.”

  “Sorry, you don’t get a vote. Your name isn’t on that house, and your name isn’t on a marriage certificate with mine.” She was being a bitch, and she hated her attitude. After all, Brett’s predicament wasn’t Richard’s fault.

  “Yet.”

  Estie took a long swallow of water and tried to make sense of the conflicting emotions butting heads in her stomach. “I don’t want to fight about this, please. He’s paid the first month’s rent, and my brother has arranged to move him within the week. It’s only for a few months.”

  “Your brother bulldozed you into this. He’s never liked me.”

  Estie wouldn’t dispute that point, but she tried to soften it a little. “Tyler doesn’t like anybody, except for a few select people. You’ll grow on each other.”

  “Estie, I’ve always been there when you needed me. Always. I cover you with your family. I cover you at work when you run off to rescue some animal, rather than doing your job.”

  “I do my job and then some.” Estie bristled, not liking his insinuations. “Besides, there are times when Sylvia needs me.”

  “I need you. What about me?”

  Oh, God, there went that whiney voice and pouty lower lip, which might work on his mother, Eunice, but so did not work on Estie. “I’m trying,” she said, reaching for patience she didn’t have.

  “Well, try harder. I’m trying to come to terms that we’ll have animals in the house because I know how important they are to you, but you need to do some compromising, too, such as carving out more time for me. Maybe taking up golf.”