“You made it,” he said, his eyes skimming over her long, soft sweater and black leggings.
“We cruised this back road often enough back in the day.” The three of them in the cab of Croy’s first pickup, which rattled and smoked and none of them had cared.
“Come on in.” He stepped back and she walked inside, barely aware of her surroundings because every fiber of her being was focused on him being so close to her.
They were finally alone.
She kicked off the fleece-lined boots she’d thrown on over bare feet. “Are you going to give me the grand tour?”
She’d barely gotten the words out before he spun her around and claimed her mouth. His kiss was hungry and she wrapped her arms around his neck, matching his intensity. He broke off the kiss for just a second so he could reach down and cup her thighs. Then her legs were wrapped around his hips and his lips were on hers again.
“This is the kitchen,” he muttered against her mouth as he walked. “The living room.”
She didn’t see them. Didn’t care. All that mattered was Croy’s kiss. His arms holding her securely as he pushed open a door with his foot.
“The bedroom,” he said seconds before he lowered her onto a mattress.
She didn’t let him go, but took him down with her, so his body covered hers. She wasn’t done kissing him yet.
His weight was resting on one forearm, but his other hand skimmed over her sweater before finding the hem. After squeezing her thigh through the leggings, he pushed his hand under the sweater until he found skin.
Leigh sighed against his lips as his hand splayed over her stomach and then slid upward to cup her breast.
“I’ve wanted to touch you like this since you walked into my bar,” he said, lifting his head.
She looked up into his dark eyes and smiled. “It feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”
His thumb brushed over her satin-covered nipple and she sucked in a breath. “I like the way you look in my bed.”
“I bet I’ll like the way you look in your bed, too, with a lot fewer clothes on.”
Grinning, he stood and pulled the Henley over his head. Leigh barely had a moment to admire his bare chest and abs before he unbuttoned the jeans and shoved them down. The dark green boxer briefs didn’t make for a bad view, either.
“Green, huh?” she asked. He looked down, as if he’d just randomly grabbed a pair out of the drawer, and then winked at her. “With my red satin, we’ve really got a Christmas theme going on.”
Croy paused in the act of pulling off his second sock. “Red satin?”
“‘Tis the season to be festive.”
“Oh, I’m feeling festive, honey.”
She could see the impressive evidence of that, but then he reached down and tucked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings. He peeled them down slowly, making a husky sound of appreciation when the red satin between her legs was revealed. Then he flung the pants aside and pulled her into a sitting position. She beat him to the sweater, grabbing it by the hem and pulling it over her head.
“Oh, Merry Christmas to me,” he breathed seconds before his mouth closed over her breast, red satin and all.
The damp, hot pressure on her taut nipple dragged a moan out of her, and he bit down gently, making her squirm. She reached behind her back and undid the clasp, needing to feel his tongue on her naked flesh.
Once the bra was loose, he pulled it free of her arms and tossed it into the pile. Then his mouth returned to the spot he’d been savoring. She could feel his breath in short bursts across her sensitive skin, and the light rasp of stubble.
Leigh ran her hands over his back and his shoulders, tracing his muscles with her fingers. His mouth moved to her other breast and his hands went to her hips. Opening her legs, she rocked upward, running the satin over his erection. Croy groaned, his fingers digging into her skin.
“I need you so much,” he said, lifting his head from her breast.
She smiled and buried her hands in his hair to pull him down into another kiss. He obliged, kissing her thoroughly while his hand slipped between her legs to stroke the satin. Whimpering against his lips, she couldn’t help squirming beneath his touch.
When she finally released his hair, Croy pushed back to his feet. He pulled the flimsy panties down and dropped them on the floor. Then he pulled a condom from his nightstand and took his sweet time putting it on, until she gave an exasperated sigh.
Chuckling, he parted her knees and bent to sweep his tongue over her. Leigh gasped, clutching his bedspread in her fingers. He sucked gently on her clit before covering her with his body again.
“Oh, I’m going to savor you later,” he said, giving her a naughty, lopsided grin. “But right now I’m going to die if I’m not inside you.”
“Now,” she said, not sure she was even capable of making other words.
Croy reached between their bodies and guided himself into her. Leigh raised her hips, wanting all of him, and he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her, his tongue dancing over hers, as he rocked his hips and filled her a little more with each stroke.
“Croy,” she whispered against his lips. “Please.”
He rested his weight on one forearm again and, with his other hand, he hooked her leg and lifted it slightly so he could thrust deeper. Her breath caught as he quickened his pace and she ran her fingernails over his back as he moved.
The orgasm rocked her and she arched her back off the bed. Her hands dropped to the bed and she curled her fingers in the bedspread as the tremors shook her body.
Before she could catch her breath, Croy reached his own orgasm, dropping his head to her neck as he thrust into her. Then, with a groan, he collapsed on top of her. They lay there for a few minutes, breathless and almost limp with satisfaction.
“I have absolutely no manners,” he said, his words slightly muffled because his face was buried against her neck. “I didn’t even offer you a drink.”
Leigh laughed, shaking both of them, and he lifted his head. She kissed him, her lips still curved in a smile. “I love what you’ve done with the place, though.”
With a groan of regret, Croy pushed himself up and quickly tossed the condom into the wastebasket. Then he stepped into the boxer briefs he’d discarded. After glancing around the pile of clothes on the floor, he walked to his dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. “You can throw this on if you want. There’s not much sense in getting dressed yet.”
She wasn’t going to argue with that. “A good host would also have cookies, you know.”
“You mean like super soft peanut butter cookies, which I happen to remember are your favorite.”
“However will I repay your hospitality?”
He arched an eyebrow and ran his gaze down her body, which was barely covered by his T-shirt. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
Leigh followed him out into the living room, which she’d paid no attention to on the way to the bedroom. Then she spotted the frame over the television and froze. “You have a watercolor painting of an old red barn.”
“Yeah, isn’t it cool? I swear, there’s nothing more New England than a painting of an old barn. Although I did once see a photograph of a stone wall hanging in a hospital waiting room, which is so New Hampshire it’s not even funny.”
Leigh wasn’t sure what it was supposed to mean, but it had to mean something. “My dad has a painting of an old red barn.”
“A lot of people do. And I remember your dad’s. His is bigger and a little less abstract, I think.”
“My mom hates it. They’ve been bickering about it for as long as I can remember. He has it locked in his truck right now so she can’t accidentally lose it during the move.”
Croy laughed. “And what do you think of paintings of red barns?”
�
��I’m afraid I got the art appreciation genes from my mother.”
“Maybe I should lock my painting in my truck before you come over next time.”
She smiled and slid her hand over his chest. “Next time, huh?”
When he kissed her, hard and hot and demanding, Leigh knew there would be a next time right now. And then as many next times as she could get away with because the clock was ticking on their time together and she wanted as much of him as she could get.
Later that night, once everybody was asleep, Leigh sat cross-legged on her bed in front of her laptop. Answering emails wasn’t totally distracting her from wishing she’d been free to fall asleep in Croy’s bed instead of getting dressed and heading home in the cold, but it was helping. Maybe.
The email it took her the longest to answer was from her best friend, Wendy. They usually sent text messages back and forth each day, but with the holidays coming and Leigh being on the east coast, there had only been a few brief emails. The one Wendy had sent tonight was a doozy, though.
Hey, you are not going to believe this, but I found the best duplex listed with a friend. It’s a little more than I wanted to spend, but if we go halves, it’s not much more than renting apartments with comparable square footage. I know you’re unstable unemployment-wise right now, so I’d consider a long-term lease-to-buy. It would be so cool. Like roommates, but with our own houses. And if we share the backyard, it’s big enough to put in a pool. Look at the link!
Leigh had clicked on the link as instructed and Wendy wasn’t kidding. A nice duplex in a nice neighborhood. Wendy had been divorced and renting an apartment for over a year and they’d talked about how perfect a duplex would be when Leigh broke it off with Jason. They’d be homeowners, but not alone.
She wasn’t making that kind of commitment based on photographs on a real estate website, no matter how perfect it was or how excited Wendy was, though. It does look perfect. When I get back, we can make an appointment to see it together!
For a few seconds, she thought about deleting that and telling Wendy to go ahead and see it and, if she still loved it, to make an appointment for Leigh to see it sometime during the first week in January. It probably wouldn’t be on the market long. But then she hit send on the email as it was.
A squeak in the hall made Leigh look up just in time to see Hope appear in her open doorway. Surprised her sister was still awake, she closed the laptop and waved her in. “Hey, where’s your squad?”
Hope crossed to the bed and sat on the edge. “TJ’s sleeping and Atticus will come get me if he wakes up.”
“Is there a rule about sleeping when the baby sleeps?”
“Yes, but there’s also a rule about sharing details with your sister when you come home all relaxed and trying not to smile, with some scruff burn on the side of your jaw.”
Leigh’s mouth opened, but then she closed it again without saying anything because what was she supposed to say? She didn’t want to outright lie to her family and her entire strategy had been avoiding being asked a direct question about the current state of her life.
“It’s pretty obvious,” Hope continued. “You’re just lucky Mom and Dad are wrapped up in Christmas and their new condo and that the lighting in the living room sucks.”
“You can’t tell anybody. Not even Jenna. Nobody,” Leigh said, dropping her voice. She waited until Hope held up her hand and they’d locked pinkies before continuing. “I broke up with Jason two months ago. I’m not cheating on him with Croy. Oh, and I quit my job right before I got here.”
“Holy shit, Leigh.” She slapped her hand over her mouth, then leaned forward. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
“Because you know how Mom is. She already has you and TJ here, even though it’s very temporary, but if she thinks I need to come home, too, she’ll convince herself and Dad they shouldn’t sell this house because we need it. No condo.”
“Are you thinking about coming back?”
“No.” Leigh shook her head. “My stuff’s in Houston. My friends. My professional network. I might even look at a duplex with Wendy when I get back. Why would I?”
Even before Hope raised her eyebrows and pointed at the side of her face, Leigh thought of Croy. But they’d had sex. Once. Sure, they’d been friends for most of their lives and they’d probably have sex again, but it wasn’t even really a relationship.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Hope pressed. “Your family’s here. And to be blunt, you don’t look like a woman who regrets having sex with an old friend this afternoon.”
“I’m not going to totally uproot my life because Croy Dawson is good in bed.”
“There are worse reasons.”
Leigh wasn’t sure if Hope was serious, or if post-baby hormones were clouding her sister’s judgment. “Where would I work?”
“Anywhere.” Hope shrugged. “I’ve never totally understood what your job is, but I know a lot of it’s done online and that pretty much every company on the planet has to do that social media stuff.”
“True, but there are companies that have to do that social media stuff and then there are companies willing to pay a lot of money for social media management and strategization.” Leigh stood and picked up the laptop to put it away. Maybe Hope would think she wanted to go to bed and leave so this conversation would end.
Besides rethinking the condo plan, this was another reason Leigh didn’t want her mother to know what was going on. The pressure to move back to New Hampshire. But it wasn’t that simple. The fact Leigh didn’t have the same man and the same job waiting for her in Houston didn’t mean her life wasn’t there. She’d put down roots there. She had friends. Plans. Favorite take-out spots.
Her plan worked because Hope stood and sighed. “That’s too bad. If you moved back, I’d have three free babysitters instead of two.”
The instant horror that struck Leigh must have shown on her face because her sister laughed. Then she put her hand over her mouth to stifle it as she waved and went back to her own room.
If she was trying to lure Leigh into moving home, that was definitely the wrong bait. But the talk of home and Croy and the duplex got all jumbled up in her head and, despite the delicious and relaxing activities of the day, it was a long time before her mind settled enough so she could sleep.
Chapter Seven
“There is no way this is legal.”
It was the third time Lucas had said it, so Croy figured it was time for an intervention. “Walking through a restaurant with a baby isn’t illegal.”
“They’re a safety hazard.”
“The toddler at table six who keeps throwing fries at people might be a safety hazard. Carrie showing Emily off to a few of our regulars isn’t hurting anybody. Unless she starts showing up in the kitchen with the baby in one of those chest pack things, I don’t think you need to worry about it.”
“What the hell is a chest pack?”
Croy shrugged. “I don’t know what they’re called. It’s like fanny pack, but it holds the baby on your chest.”
“My boys had some kind of scarf thing when they were babies, but I could never figure out how to tie it and just carried them around.”
As they watched, Jeff stepped up to Carrie and put his hand on her back. After saying a few words to the guests, he gave his wife a nudge toward the back of the restaurant, where he’d probably try to talk her into going back upstairs. Croy chuckled, enjoying this new side of his brother. Jeff was a pain in the ass as an older brother and a pain in the ass in the kitchen, but he was mush when it came to his wife and daughter.
But underneath Croy’s amusement and joy for his brother was a layer of envy, and he sighed. He’d been a lot younger when Lucas’s boys were born, so maybe that’s why he hadn’t felt it then. Whatever the reason, seeing Jeff with Emily made Croy wonder what kind of dad he would be
. And that made him aware he needed to start taking his relationship status a lot more seriously.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he risked Lucas’s wrath by pulling it out and glancing at the text message. Can you help me reach something off a high shelf in the storage room?
Speaking of relationships, he thought as he let Leigh know he was on his way before slipping the phone back in his pocket. “Hey, since you’re standing around here doing nothing, do me a favor and watch the bar for a few minutes.”
“Where are you going?”
“On break.”
Lucas scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The labor laws say I’m entitled to a break.” Croy slapped his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’m taking a break.”
“I don’t think that applies if you’re the boss.”
“Okay. If I’m the boss, then you can watch the bar for a few minutes because I said so.”
“One of the bosses,” Lucas clarified, but Croy was already walking away and he was fairly confident his brother wouldn’t leave the bar unattended.
He went through the kitchen because there was no other way to get to the storage room, and was glad when the cooks didn’t pay him any attention. Hopefully they hadn’t paid attention when Leigh walked through on her way to the narrow hallway, either. So far they’d managed to avoid anybody being able to confirm they were spending time together off the clock, so to speak, and that was good. For Leigh, anyway. She didn’t want to be cornered into telling her parents a lie about Croy or the truth about Jason.
It wasn’t as good for Croy. While he didn’t necessarily want Leigh to be in a jam with her family while she was home for the holidays, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish they knew. They couldn’t explore the possibility they had something very real going on while she was still living a fake life.
And based on the fact everything inside him seemed to light up when he turned the corner into the storage room and saw her, he knew the feelings he had for Leigh were real.
Holiday with a Twist Page 8
