Cold Killjoy (Mistletoe Montana Book 17)

by Esther E. Schmidt

  “Well, that sure brings new light to the situation.” The sheriff rubs two fingers along his jaw, thinking things over.

  From the corner of my eye I notice Joycelyn staring at me but I can’t afford to look her in the eye right now. And since the sheriff thinks this shit is over, I might as well give him a heads up before he thinks he has half the picture when the news of a new MC chapter settles in town.

  “I also might as well tell you about the fact that I’m the president of the new chapter of Trigger Pull MC, located right here in Mistletoe Montana. Our clubhouse will be in the space next to Killjoy’s Automotive. Most of us are mechanics and will be working there.”

  “Are you starting trouble and planning for more?” he asks me point-blank.

  Fuck. It’s the very reason I told him straight up instead of him finding out later.

  I give a shake of my head. “We’re just a handful of guys who believe in respect, brotherhood, loyalty, fixing bikes, and riding them.”

  “Alcohol, fights, drugs, guns, or laws you’re planning to break?”

  I have to give the man a genuine smile. “I appreciate your bluntness, but no. Besides the alcohol consumed during a party or maybe the occasional fight. I technically can’t rule it out as you can see with my woman sitting here with a battered face because some fucker thought it was good to hit her…but…yeah, we’re set to walk a straight enough line, sir.”

  He nods thoughtfully. “Thanks for the heads up.” He reaches inside his shirt pocket and hands me a business card. “My personal number is on the back, call me to make an appointment for tomorrow if possible so I can talk to both you and your father. I’m going to talk to Miller now that I have a few more details. Ma’am, if you want to press charges, you know where to find me.”

  He holds my gaze for a few heartbeats before he walks out of Joycelyn’s home. The door falls shut and with it, realization sets in about the fact that I have to face my woman. I plow a hand through my hair and connect my gaze with her, expecting fury but instead she’s looking at me with an emotion I can’t place.

  Instead of chewing my head off she says, “Do you really think Miller has something to do with your father falling down those steps?”

  I lean back against the counter and cross my arms in front of my chest. “Like I mentioned to the sheriff, all my dad remembers is the meeting he was in with Miller and waking up in the hospital. And when I walked into the office Miller sat there as if he owned the damn place. The fucker screams guilty if you ask me.”

  “Huh,” she says thoughtfully and stands, walking right out of the kitchen.

  I stare at her ass for a few breaths before I kick into action and follow her out. Shit. I forgot we were unloading her car filled with groceries. I jog after her and we bring the final few bags into her kitchen.

  Without exchanging words she fills the kettle with water and places it on the stove to heat while she puts away the groceries. Ultimately, she shoos me away to wait for her in the living room. Stepping inside it’s hard to keep a straight face. There are still a few weeks till Christmas but I have a feeling this woman is in the spirit all year round.

  The couch is filled with pillows, two stand out. One is bright red with the word “Naughty” in bold and the other is white with “Nice” written all over it. Though the others are all Christmas themed as well. Everywhere I look it screams joy, warmth, and homey.

  There’s a little desk in the corner and even the pencils are a combination of red, green, and white. Stepping closer I notice a file with papers slightly spilled out. Placing a finger on one of the papers I slide it out even further and notice it’s a sketch. A rumble of laughter flows through me when I realize what the fuck I’m staring at. I’m about to take a closer look but it’s snatched from my hands.

  “Those are mine,” Joycelyn squeaks and shoves them in a drawer. “Come sit, your tea is ready and we need to talk.”

  “About the reindeer hoof dildo you drew?” I question, barely keeping the full-blown laughter back.

  “It’s a project I’m working on,” she grumbles, cheeks flushing adorably.

  “As long as your project doesn’t involve shoving it up my ass, I’m fine with it. If you need me to shove it up yours, say the word…I’m all in…so to speak.”

  I watch the color of her cheeks deepen some more while my cock thickens.

  She starts to sputter. “I do not…I never…” She groans as she buries her face into her hands. “Why don’t you just headbutt me again, I think I prefer it to this discussion.”

  Again, laughter overtakes me and I pull her hands away from her face. “Come on now. Nothing bad about a little anal action. It’s good to talk about these things beforehand and you drawing it is…well, it’s hot. Though, I do think the whole reindeer hoof is a little twisted but I guess you meeting my asshole side has something to do with it, huh? Because I remember very vividly how you mentioned something about me falling from an itch I can’t scratch, right on a reindeer statue while its hoof slid up my ass.”

  “You’re such an ass,” she huffs, but we’ve wasted too many words already.

  Leaning in slowly I give her the option to either pull away or say something to stop me but she takes the decision in her own hands when she closes the distance between us and gently presses her lips against mine.

  Screw gentle. This woman put my body on fire the second her mouth connected with mine. My hand slides in her chestnut hair. I wrap it around my hand and fist it to guide her head. Her gasp allows me to thrust my tongue into her mouth and show her exactly how she needs to be kissed.

  The rumble of engines drags my attention away from the sweet woman in my arms and I regretfully end the kiss. Placing my forehead against hers, I take a moment to pull myself together. My heart is racing and my dick is trying to claw its way out of my jeans.

  “My brothers are here by the sound of it,” I grumble.

  “Brothers?” Her magnificent tits rise and fall rapidly. “I didn’t even know Clark had a son, let alone have a whole bunch of them.”

  Again, she makes me smile. This damn woman has made me smile and laugh more in a day than I have in the past few years.

  “I’m his only son. By brothers I mean my MC brothers. We’re a brotherhood, a family. I have to go right now but I’ll be back and will explain everything you want to know.”

  I take her lips one more time, savoring her taste, before I head out the door to meet my brothers.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Eight days later

  – JOYCELYN –

  I’ll be back and will explain everything you want to know. The words he gave me eight days ago echo in my head as I watch Cold jump into his father’s truck and drive off. Okay, I haven’t exactly been giving him a chance to explain because I’m avoiding him.

  To be honest, he scares the crap out of me. More specifically about how my body reacts to him. I release a deep breath and grab the pillow I received yesterday. It’s a design available in my “Nice” web shop.

  The “Nice” web shop has loads of funny stuff for the family, while my “Naughty” web shop has the spicy, sexy elements to everything. It’s fun to design new things for either shop and I’ve made a good living off it for quite some years.

  Picking up my keys and purse, I head over to Clark’s house and use the spare key to let myself inside. The smell of fresh coffee assaults my nose and reminds me I only had one cup between getting dressed and waiting for Cold to leave.

  Like I said, I’ve successfully managed to avoid him for days. It’s not that hard, I only have to wait for him to leave for work. The garage opens at nine and from what Clark told me, Cold is also finalizing everything with the clubhouse so they can have everything finished this Friday.

  “Good morning, Clark,” I say cheerfully.

  Clark grunts and shifts on the couch.

  “Move forward,” I order and he listens, allowing me to place the pillow behind his back.

  Right when he leans back, I get
a glimpse of the words embroidered on there and it makes me smile. “Grumpy but Nice.” The pillow is candy cane red and the letters are white. I’ve been bringing over small Christmas items each day. I mean, it’s three weeks till Christmas and they don’t even have a tree up.

  I make a mental note to drive into town later and get one. It will be harder to sneak in a tree and decorate it, but I’ll try to do it when he takes an afternoon nap. I push the thought away for now, I still have time to plan and set everything up.

  “Did you have breakfast yet?”

  Clark shakes his head. “You know I didn’t, Cold neither and he was pretty pissy about it too.” He shoots me a grin. “Makes me smile knowing you deliberately wait till he’s gone to make me breakfast.”

  “I don’t–” I start to huff but Clark raises his eyebrow and with it making the lie fall flat on my tongue.

  My shoulders sag and I ultimately go with, “It’s complicated.”

  “No, it’s not. He said he’d explain and you have been avoiding him ever since. Might want to hear him out instead of running. With that cheerful spirit of yours I didn’t think you were a chicken.”

  My eyes bulge and I start to sputter.

  “Breakfast, Joy. Can we please get it started before my boy gets back? Because he might have given you time to get your thoughts settled and give you the idea you’re in control, but I know my son. He might not have been here with me all these years but we stayed in touch. He was on the same path I was when a woman caught my eye, making me do a U-turn. And once you really see what’s right in front of you, no matter the situation, you won’t let her slip through your fingers.”

  My mouth falls open and all I can do is gape. The front door opens and my heartbeat picks up when I see Cold stomping inside. Why does the man need to look captivatingly sexy? Showing off his tattoos covering one of his arms and making me wonder how far up it goes.

  And who in the hell wears a crispy white t-shirt when it’s mid-winter? It’s freezing outside. His eyes hit mine and his mouth goes from a straight line to a smirk. He lets his gaze slide over me as he takes in my baby reindeer covered flannel pajama.

  “Do you have any clothes without a Christmas theme?”

  I ignore his question and head for the kitchen, brushing past him to make a quick escape. I gather all the stuff I need to make waffles and refuse to acknowledge his presence until it creeps me the hell out and I finally spin around to face him. He’s leaning against the doorjamb and I now notice he’s wearing a leather cut with patches over his t-shirt.

  “What do you want, Cold?” I ask while I mimic his pose by crossing my arms in front of my chest.

  “We’ve been painting the clubhouse all week and finally finished yesterday. This morning was the first day I could wear my cut, knowing I wouldn’t have to take it off due to all the painting. But I forgot to put it on, hence the reason I came back. I guess with the rest of the furniture coming today, and with my brothers already at the clubhouse, there’s no need for me to head in today. I think it’s time for our little talk. You done running? ’Cause I’m tired of you avoiding me. I might hate all cheerful shit but it’s easy to overlook when I stare at your ass and tits. I’ve spent a week working hard and falling asleep at the memory of your taste on my tongue and I need another taste.”

  My mind is still occupied going over the fact he hates all cheerful stuff and blandly states he overlooks it by glancing at my…he’s insane. Not to mention rude. A man who–like all men–thinks with his dick. Kinda like my naughty store without the nice one to balance it all out. With Cold there is no balance.

  “I’m not running. I live next door, all you had to do was take a few steps and knock on my door. You’re eight days late with your need for conversation and I’m not some elf on a shelf dressed like a stripper you can bounce around to see her ass and tits jiggle. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to fix your father some waffles before I head back to my place. Not running. Not hiding. Working. Something you can do too while we’re not avoiding one another and not be friendly cheerful neighbors either. Now shoo.”

  I spin around to face the counter but the air rushes out of my lungs when I feel Cold pressing his body against my back.

  His lips are right next to my ear, his voice vibrating through my back when he rumbles, “I’ve never committed to a woman. Never had a relationship, and I sure as fuck never had the dying need to bury myself inside a woman as if my next damn breath depends on it. You avoiding me, or me giving myself time to handle this between us: what-the-fuck-ever. It’s hereby settled and we’re unable to ignore it.”

  A shiver flows through my body. His arm circles my waist and he pulls me closer.

  “You tell me right now if I’m wrong, but I hope to fuck you’ll agree.” He spins me around and cradles my face in his hands. “We’ll go as slow as you want…but I ain’t a man with a lot of patience. And for sure as fuck I won’t have a woman lead me around by my dick. So, don’t expect me to wear any of the reindeer shit you wear and design.”

  A smile spreads my face at the thought of Cold wearing a fluffy onesie with a reindeer pattern, maybe a Rudolph version with his red nose right at his crotch.

  “Fuck, you’re thinking on making me a special version aren’t you?” he mutters.

  “Yes.” I smile.

  “Yes?” he croaks. “To picturing me in weird Christmas shit or yes to us?”

  “Both.” I barely manage to let the single word fall from my lips before his mouth crashes over mine.

  “You guys fell quiet…does that mean you got hooked? If so, don’t have sex in my damn kitchen. And get me my waffles.”

  Laughter bubbles up while Cold breaks our kiss to mutter a few curses.

  He cups the back of my neck and places his forehead against mine and whispers, “I’ll meet you at your place tonight so my dad can’t butt in, yeah?”

  “Okay,” I breathe while heat flows through my body at the mere thought of being alone with Cold.

  “Waffles, kids. Waffles,” Clark bellows again from the next room.

  Cold sighs and feathers his mouth against mine.

  “Why don’t you get your dad into his chair? I’ll fix all of us some breakfast.”

  He simply nods, steps back, and adjusts himself while my eyes widen. Holy waffles this man is packed for some serious action. My pussy clenches at the sight. The groan reaching my ears makes my gaze collide with Cold’s.

  “Stop looking at me like that or I’ll haul you over my shoulder and stalk next door and give it to you. But that would mean the old man would starve and his mood would be blown to shit for a whole damn week. Might be worth it, though.” Hunger fills his eyes and I’m about to agree with him when Clark reminds us of his presence.

  “Later,” I tell him and spin around to break our connection, making my hands busy with fixing all of us breakfast.

  Both men are seated at the kitchen table by the time I have everything set. I watch as they dig into their food. Chewing on a tiny piece of waffle, I feel myself smile. The reason why I pushed my “Good morning” each and every day until Clark gave in to giving me a friendly hello was to reach out and give the man some friendliness.

  Then I missed spending time with my father, even if we still stay in touch. Clark with all his grumpiness reminded me of sharing breakfast with my dad before he met his second love. Knowing he wouldn’t have a decent breakfast if I didn’t make him one. Hence me reaching out to Clark.

  It might sound strange to some people, but a little friendliness and an act of kindness can really touch a heart. And sitting at this table–sharing breakfast with Clark and his son–makes me thankful to be able to make a change and also be there for Clark when he really needs it with his broken arm and leg.

  Cold catches my gaze and I watch how his eyes heat. My throat runs dry when I think of our kiss.

  “Eat. The both of you. I said no fucking in the kitchen and that includes eye-fucking.”

  My whole face heats as I q
uickly stare at my food.

  “I thought you just received a nice gift, the new pillow for your back. Remember what it said?” Cold snaps. “She might need to take it back and give you a new one. ‘Grumpy, not nice.’”

  “Pretty sure I don’t sell that one in my store,” I mutter.

  Cold and Clark glance at each other and start to laugh. After that we all enjoyed our food without any grumpiness. Cold helps his father settle back on the couch while I clean up. I’m putting away the dishes when he strolls back inside the kitchen.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” he rumbles.

  I don’t risk a glance over my shoulder, the whole multiple reminders of not being allowed to have sex in the kitchen still vivid on my brain. His hands slide to my hips and he buries his head into the crook of my neck.

  “Fuck, you even smell like Christmas cookies, how’s that possible?”

  I dry my hands, drop the cloth on the counter and turn around. “Christmas cookies shampoo and shower gel. I had some left because they tweaked something in production.”

  “I never knew they made that kind of stuff, but it sure smells good on you.” His voice is a soft murmur.

  I would try to focus more but his nose is trailing a path up and down my neck, his teeth nip my ear. I’m about to grind my ass against his pelvis but there’s a rumble of words flowing from the living room.

  “No fucking in my kitchen.”

  I jump away while Mister Asshole laughs.

  “I think I liked you better when you were grumpy,” I grumble.

  His arm sneaks around my waist and he pulls me close. “No, you don’t.”

  He’s about to kiss me but his phone starts to ring. He keeps me close when he takes his phone from his pocket and answers it. I hear someone rumbling words but I try to block it out to give Cold some privacy, nuzzling his chest sure gives a woman an easy way to distract herself.

  Suddenly Cold goes rigid and grunts, “I’ll be right there.”