“Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming.” Trip drove deep and held, straining into her body as he poured the warmth of his semen into her.
Ashton didn’t know if it was even possible, but she swore she could feel the hot spray of his ejaculate. The sensation sent aftershocks whipping through her body, her channel convulsing as it milked him of every bit of his essence.
She had just learned something profound. Unprotected sex equaled unprotected emotions.
Chapter Five
December 24—0130 hours
Trip wondered what time it was. Rolling over to look at Ashton’s bedside clock would have required him to move her off his chest, something he refused to do. It was impossible to guess the hour by looking at the light coming from the window. The blanket of snow outside made the cityscape look bright as day.
“How long are you in town this time?” she asked.
They’d been lying in comfortable silence for quite some time, and he hadn’t realized she was awake. Trip didn’t think he’d ever felt so relaxed. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d felt utterly at ease with Ashton from the beginning.
He addressed her question, wondering what had prompted it. “I have five days of leave before I have to be back in Germany for a briefing on my duties with the new unit.”
“Germany? Wow.” Her tone was tinged with something that sounded like envy. “What do you actually do in the air force?”
“I’m a C-130J pilot in the 86th Airlift Wing.” He knew exactly how that sounded. “Sorry, that’s just a bunch of numbers. I’m an air force captain. The C-130J is a really huge transport plane. In Afghanistan and Iraq I flew missions to bring home wounded soldiers. In Germany, most of what I do will be related to troop movements, equipment and supplies, that kind of thing. I’m a pilot, but I’ve never had a desire to fly combat missions.”
“So no working in a pub anywhere in your future?”
He thought about McKinloch’s. It had been such a huge part of his childhood, but he’d never had a desire to work there. Not beyond waiting tables for cash in high school and college, anyway. “No career in food service for me.”
“I’m glad.” She scooted off his chest and laid her cheek on the pillow.
He turned so he could see her shadowy features there beside him. “You’re glad? I think my father understands, but my mother has been waiting for me to get a clue and come home to settle down. She thinks it’s just a case of wanderlust I’ll eventually grow out of.”
“What about you? What do you think?”
That was a question that had come up a lot recently. “I know that’s not the life for me. Settling down doesn’t have to mean picking up the family business, which isn’t short on McKinlochs to begin with. I want more. Does that make sense?”
A smile pulled her lips into a perfect bow. “It makes absolute sense. Truthfully, I’m jealous.”
He thought of Gavin’s claim on her affections. His brother couldn’t possibly know she felt this way. Gavin’s whole life was at the bar. He’d want a woman who wanted what he did. It was much too late for Trip to feel guilty about “taking” Gavin’s girl, but he wanted to know what Ashton had to say on the subject anyway. He broached the topic with deliberate casualness. “So, you said earlier there was nothing between you and my brother.”
“There’s not.” She flopped over onto her back. “You know, nothing since I met you has seemed right unless I’m with you.”
He’d be lying if he said those words didn’t send him over the moon, but he wanted to understand what she meant. “How long ago did Gavin first ask you out?”
“He never really has, I guess. I’ve always known he was interested. He’s sweet and kind. I’m sure you know that already.” She glanced at him. “Two days ago he asked me if I’d come have Christmas dinner at your parents’ place. I told him I’d think it over.”
The tightness in her voice ripped at his heart. “And? What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything until about five seconds before you showed up.” She sounded outraged. “Seriously, I’d just told him okay when you walked through the door. Next thing I know he’s throwing his arm around my shoulders and warning you away with those weird looks. I even made sure to tell him there was nothing romantic about my agreeing.”
Damn, damn, double damn. She was obviously stuck right in the middle of the petty little boy rivalry that had been going on since Trip and Gavin were in grade school. How could he explain this to Ashton without making her feel like a poker chip? “There’s a lot of unpleasant history between Gavin and I when it comes to women.”
“Sibling rivalry or worse?”
Trip didn’t figure it would win him any points to be anything but blunt about it. “He was dating an older girl during the summer after his senior year in high school, and I wound up sleeping with her.”
“Did it only happen once?”
“Just the one time. I didn’t realize how deeply it affected him until after I’d already joined the air force. When I graduated from training, I came home for a visit. He was dating some girl I’d never met before, but he accused me of trying to sleep with her.”
“Were you?”
He wondered if she truly believed him to be that kind of person. “God, no, but I couldn’t convince him of that.”
She craned her head around to look him in the face. “I didn’t mean to insult you, but I can see why women would throw themselves at your feet.”
“I’m not like that, Ashton. What happened between you and me…” He struggled with the words. “It was as if we belonged together from that very first time. You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met.”
“Then we need to be honest with Gavin. That’s the only answer.” The idea didn’t seem to thrill her any more than it did him. She heaved a giant sigh. “Holidays really suck sometimes.”
“I noticed you were a little stingy with the decorations.” Thankful for the change of topic, Trip rolled to his side so he could nuzzle her neck.
She didn’t speak for so long, he wondered if his question had offended her. When she finally dragged in a breath, he realized she was crying. Tenderness swept him like a warm wave. What lurked in her past that the thought of Christmas lights and wreaths made her teary-eyed?
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “My—my dad almost always made it home for Christmas, but he would come home on Christmas Eve, exhausted as all get-out. Sometimes he’d get a little tree, but I got to where I realized how much effort it took for him to get into the holiday spirit, and I just sort of stopped asking for one by the time I hit middle school.”
The insight made him wonder how someone like her viewed his crazy family. “Was it just you and your dad?”
“Yeah. He was a merchant marine. He was a second engineer, so he made good money when he went out.”
“Then he went out a lot.” Trip said what she didn’t.
“Yes.”
“What about your mom?”
She stiffened, her body tense beside him. “She left us when I was little. I don’t remember her. I used to stay with Mrs. O’Leary when I was little. She lived right next door, so when I was older I stayed home alone, and she looked out for me.”
He remembered his mother’s horror over Ashton’s holiday movie tradition. “Did you and your dad go to the movies on Christmas every year?”
“Yeah. We would drive over to the Tivoli and watch indie films all afternoon.” Her tone was almost defensive. “We’d eat popcorn and Jordan almonds instead of turkey and stuffing. I love those things. They’re by far my favorite kind of candy.”
“That actually sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Best thing of all?” Even in the dim bedroom he could see the smile on her face. “No dishes and no leftovers.”
Trip had grown up in a house full of siblings, parents, and love. Holidays usually brought extended family to visit from outlying parts of the St. Louis metro, and it always got a little nuts. He’d grown up longing for just a
bit of solitude. Now he wondered if he hadn’t fully understood what he was wishing for. It wasn’t that Ashton’s childhood sounded morbid. It was just different. Had he not spent plenty of time enjoying the solitude all over the globe that his tours of duty offered, he would have never understood how peaceful it could be to be without his family.
“I didn’t mean to dump all that on you,” she said.
“Darlin’, you didn’t dump anything. I asked.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “More than that, I wanted to know.”
“I don’t want to come between you and Gavin, Trip. He’s your brother. I’m just some girl you had a one-night stand with.”
Fury left him breathless. He rolled on top of her and kissed her fiercely. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, he staked his claim as if he were branding her as his own. When he finally pulled back, she was undulating against him, and his cock was swelling to life.
“Don’t you ever say that again,” he told her vehemently. “You are not just a one-night stand.”
“Then what am I?”
He thought about what he’d told Ossian earlier, about his inexplicable feelings for this woman who should have been a near stranger. There was only one possible answer he could give her. “You’re everything, Ashton. Everything.”
Chapter Six
December 24—10:00 a.m.
Leaving Trip asleep in her bed took monumental effort. What Ashton really wanted to do was wake him with a kiss and ask him to make love to her all over again. She had only to think about the night of pleasure they’d shared for her sex to grow wet. Unfortunately, she wasn’t on vacation like he was. She still had a job to go to.
She didn’t bother trying to dig her car out of the snow. It was far easier just to bundle up and walk the few blocks from her house to the bar. At least it had stopped snowing for the moment.
It felt good to step into the warmth of McKinloch’s and out of the brisk cold. She hung her coat on the rack and sucked in a deep breath. It was time to face the music.
“Good morning, sunshine. Happy Christmas Eve.” Ossian didn’t look up from the receipts he was adding.
She put her purse under the bar and faced him. He still didn’t look up, which was good. She’d been afraid she wouldn’t be able to meet his gaze after spending all night screwing his brother.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Oz set one pile of receipts aside and picked up another. “Did you have a nice, restful night?”
Not in the traditional sense. “Sure. It was nice.”
“Just nice?” Oz finally looked up. “My brother never came back to my apartment last night. If your night was just nice, we probably need to send out a search party.”
Her cheeks flamed red-hot. “Okay, so it was more than nice. Way more. Happy?”
“Are you?”
Ashton was fighting the urge to smack him. “Am I what?”
“Happy?”
“Yes.” Her gaze automatically moved to the food window. She could hear someone whistling in the kitchen and knew it was almost certainly Gavin. “And no.”
She had Oz’s full attention now. He set the receipts down and turned to face her. With his arms crossed over his broad chest, he rested his hip against the bar. His dark eyes looked so much like Trip’s. How had she never seen the family resemblance before now?
She cleared her throat. “Trip told me about his…history…with Gavin.” She didn’t know what else to call it. “I don’t want to be the cause of more friction.”
Ossian pursed his lips in silence. It was his thinking look. Ash couldn’t blame him for wanting to take a few moments to absorb it all. Truthfully, she was still completely weirded out by the idea that she was stuck between two suitors like some medieval maiden. How that had happened to a big-boned redhead who had never been particularly desirable to anyone else was a giant-sized mystery.
“So,” Oz said. “There’s only one thing to do. Right?”
Ashton’s heart leaped into her throat. Honesty was the best policy. She thought about all the holiday craziness that was about to descend upon McKinloch’s. Beginning at four that afternoon, they were booked solid with private parties for the rest of the night. They would be inundated with wall-to-wall holiday revelers until midnight. Plus, it was Christmas Eve. Was this really the time to make Gavin angry with her?
Honesty is the only policy.
She fiddled with her apron before tying it around her waist. “I’d better go talk to him, I guess.”
“Where’s Trip?” Oz asked.
“Still asleep.”
“Jet lag, no doubt. It seems to take him twenty-four hours to get over it.” Oz turned back to his receipts. “He’ll straggle in about the time the party starts to get rolling.”
Ash didn’t even try to dissect the conflicting emotions Ossian’s monologue gave her. It was surrealistic to think that the guy who’d been her this-one-wild-and-crazy-night-when-I-slept-with-a-stranger was asleep in her bed while she went to her regular job working with his brothers. She inhaled deeply and walked into the kitchen. On the way she did her level best to find whatever might be left of her inner calm.
“Hey there.” Gavin looked up and smiled when he saw her. “You’re here early. Especially since it’ll probably be a late night.”
How should she start a conversation like this? Surely it would be horrible just to launch into it, right? “Do you have to stay all night like the rest of us, or do you get to escape after you make the party trays?”
He gestured to the make table. “Probably not. This entire supply will be sucked down in less than an hour, so I have to stick around and make backups.”
Every available surface in the kitchen was covered in hors d’oeuvres. Gavin held a can of some kind of spice in his hand, using it to sprinkle red powder over the tops of the deviled eggs. His creations were so elaborate and uniform in looks that they could have been turned out of a machine.
She was amazed by the artistic selection of canapés, stuffed mushrooms, and tiny quiches. “Wow. Did you make all of this from scratch?”
“Nah. I had Donal stop at McDonald’s this morning, and he grabbed a few things.” His dark eyes were full of mischief.
“Yeah, I’ve eaten there, and I just don’t remember this kind of thing being on the menu. If it had been, I might eat there more often.” The closeness of the banter disturbed her, and Ashton walked a few paces to put some distance between them. Her new position gave her a view of the prep tables closer to the walk-in units. It was always chilly in that portion of the kitchen, which was probably why they’d stored the desserts there. “Wow, did Donal do this?”
The tables were piled high with tier after tier of elaborate pastries. There were petit fours, tarts, bonbons, delicate snowball cookies, divinity, cream puffs, and a huge cake fancifully decorated like a green-and-red-wrapped present. Each creation had been painstakingly shaped and embellished until they looked as if they belonged at an expensive soiree. It wasn’t what she was used to seeing at McKinloch’s.
From the corner of her eye, Ash saw Gavin wipe his hands on his apron and start in her direction. He paused beside her and reached out to straighten a sprig of holly decorating one of the platters.
She glanced up at him in total shock. “This is all you, isn’t it?”
“Donal is a good line cook. He’s a whiz on the grill or at developing a marinade or sauce for some new meat dish he wants to try. He’s the one who makes our shepherd’s pies. He handles the bangers and mash, the lamb shank, anything with meat.” Gavin gazed at the cake for so long Ash thought he might be done talking about it. “Christmas is my favorite time of year because it’s the only time Dad lets me go off the menu.”
“And you get to create all of this?” She understood immediately what he meant. The McKinloch’s menu was a staple of St. Louis history. Anything new was introduced slowly, over time. And there were two pages of pub favorites that had been the same since the place had first opened its doors.
“I can’t wa
it for you to see what I’ve got planned for Christmas dinner.” His grin was so wide Ash couldn’t bear to say what needed to be said between them. “You’ll be so stuffed with good food you’ll fall asleep when I take you to the movies.”
Shit. How can I tell him the truth now?
“I better get back to the bar and finish prepping before Ossian wonders where I’m hiding.” Feeling like a total coward, Ash retreated from the kitchen and made her way back to the bar to regroup.
Chapter Seven
December 24—1400 hours
“Aiden?” Someone tapped his shoulder, and Trip turned to find his sister eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”
A harried shopper jostled his back, and Trip wondered what had possessed him to be in a candy store on Christmas Eve. The glass display cases were decked in greenery and silver lights. Tiny truffles nested beside cherry cordials in gold foil boxes. The air smelled like a mouthwatering blend of confections. Through the arched storefront windows he could see the masses lugging shopping bags to and fro while searching for that perfect last-minute gift.
“It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m in a mall. What do you think I’m doing?” It was difficult to decide if Morrie was fishing for information about what he’d gotten her for Christmas, or something else. Trip was well aware that his baby sister had never outgrown her desire to know everything she was getting well before it was time to open gifts. Her nosiness was McKinloch legend. Her penchant for digging into other people’s business could be applied to anything though, especially her brothers’ love lives.
She took a step back and looked him up and down. “It’s so weird to see you in regular clothes.”
“Gee, thanks, Sis.” Trip glanced at his blue button-down, black slacks, and thick-soled shoes. He didn’t want to admit it actually felt weird to be in regular clothes. Not that he didn’t wear civvies when he wasn’t on duty, but there was so little variety in his wardrobe that it had become almost a second uniform comprised of T-shirt, jeans, and work boots.
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