A Maine Christmas...or Two

by J. S. Scott

  “I got new glasses. And contacts. I can’t believe my mom and dad did this for me. They live on a fixed income. They really can’t afford it.” Emily’s eyes started to tear at the thought of her parents sacrificing for her. She didn’t even remember telling them she had lost her old contacts. Usually she avoided bad news. Her parents were getting on in years, and she tried to keep to the happier stuff when she spoke with them because they worried.

  Randi came to the desk and sifted through the contents. “Um…Em…I don’t think it was from your parents.” Randi dangled a card from her fingertips before handing it to Emily.

  It was Dr. Pope’s card, but on the back, written in script, was Grady Sinclair’s name and simply the word “Paid.”

  “Grady? Why?” she whispered to herself, running her index finger over the card.

  Randi raised a brow, asking curiously, “Is there something you haven’t told me about your little visit with Grady Sinclair?”

  Emily had asked Randi earlier not to ever refer to Grady by anything other than his name. He’d saved her ass, asking for very little in return except her company for Christmas. And why he wanted that she still hadn’t figured out. “No. We talked. He made me drive his truck because he was worried about my bad tires. And I left.” Okay, she was omitting the tiny little detail that Grady had mistaken her for woman who traded sex for money. And she wasn’t about to mention the fact that he’d kissed her. Knowing Randi, she’d blow the whole thing out of proportion. It was just…a kiss. It wasn’t like Grady Sinclair actually had any real interest in her.

  “Obviously you made quite an impression,” Randi answered in a teasing voice.

  “I can’t keep these. Why did he do this?” Emily pulled off the new glasses.

  “You need them. Keep them.” Reaching out stealthily, Randi snatched Emily’s old glasses away from her and put them in her pocket. “Just so you know, these are going to go missing unless you absolutely need them for some kind of emergency. And now…you don’t need them.” Chuckling softly, Randi scampered out of Emily’s office.

  “Miranda Tyler, bring those back here.” Emily put the new glasses back on and followed Randi, only to find that Randi had grabbed her stuff and left like her ass was on fire.

  “Damn.” Emily plopped back into her chair in the office. Would they even let her return the glasses now that they had been made for her? Probably not. And she’d be hard-pressed to come up with the money to pay them off.

  Grady paid. I have to pay him. Why did he do it?

  Emily dug through her purse and pulled out Grady’s card. He’d called her last night, sounding almost upset that she hadn’t already called him to let him know she’d made it home. Stopping at the grocery store first, she had just been coming through the door when her cell phone rang. He’d gotten the account number for the Center’s bank account, and then they had talked about everything and nothing for two hours. Grady Sinclair was blunt, gruff, and okay…maybe he could be a bit abrupt and intimidating, but the problem was…she actually liked him. His public image was all wrong, and Grady was a complete fraud. Underneath his rough exterior was a man with a good heart. Emily was almost certain of that. There was no artificial charm or smoothness to Grady, and that made him that much hotter. He was all male, all the time, and everything feminine inside her reacted to that, reacted to him.

  Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she laid his card on the desk, and brought up her email.

  Dear Mr. Sinclair,

  Thank you for your generous donation to the Youth Center Of Amesport.

  I am in receipt of the package you sent today. I hope you will be able to accept payment arrangements for the contents. Although I was planning to purchase some products I needed from Dr. Pope, I hadn’t planned to buy all this right now. It’s an unexpected expense that I haven’t budgeted to purchase. Can I make monthly payments to you?

  Regards,

  Emily Ashworth

  His reply came through about ten minutes later.

  Emily,

  Your glasses are scratched and you need them. I used to wear glasses when I was younger, and trying to see around scratches is annoying. If you try to pay me, I’ll find a way to get my donation back. And there is no Mr. Sinclair at this email address.

  G.

  Emily knew she should be angry, but she actually burst out laughing at his reply. There was no professional politeness with Grady. He got right to the point. She sent another lightning fast reply.

  Mr. Sinclair,

  We’ve already discussed the terms of our agreement, and this was not part of that verbal contract. Are you going to take the installment payments or not?

  Regards,

  Emily Ashworth

  His reply arrived within minutes.

  Emily,

  No. I’m not. The agreement was never solid and is still negotiable. I specifically remember you saying you would do whatever you could to get me what I wanted—short of fucking me. That’s a pretty broad statement. I wanted to give you the glasses and contacts as a gift. End of discussion. I also want you to call me Grady, or you’ll pay later for ignoring my request.

  G.

  It took Emily several minutes to compose herself, shocked and amused by his candid response. She couldn’t help herself…she answered.

  Grady,

  How do you plan to make me pay if I call you Mr. Sinclair?

  Emily

  His response was immediate this time.

  Emily,

  Try it and you’ll find out.

  G.

  Oh, Emily was so tempted. Grady was pushing and she wanted to push back. But sparring with him was dangerous to both her physical and mental well-being. He fascinated and unsettled her at the same time.

  Her fingers itched to type a reply, but she deleted the emails and closed the page, determined to ignore her attraction to him. She wasn’t used to a man doing anything for her, and she wasn’t quite comfortable with Grady’s gift. It was too thoughtful, too insightful. Just the fact that he’d noticed such a small thing about her glasses was perplexing. At the age of twenty-eight, she wasn’t a virgin. There had been one boyfriend in college and one after she graduated, but neither of them was anything like Grady Sinclair.

  Emily sighed, drew the glasses off her face and inserted the contact lenses. It was a relief to have clear vision again, and the prescription was perfect. Not that she expected anything less from Grady.

  Placing the glasses carefully in her purse, she tried to get back to paperwork, but her mind wandered the rest of the afternoon, daydreaming about what Grady might do to punish her. Chances are, she’d probably love it.

  “I want my truck back,” Emily told Grady irritably, stomping her foot in what looked to Grady like a female temper tantrum, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Most women he knew just took, and they didn’t argue.

  Emily had just arrived, toting her suitcase and boxes of red and green decorations along with her. She was wearing a Christmas sweatshirt that shouldn’t turn him on, but it did. Decked out in Christmas cheer from her tinkling bell earrings to the Christmas socks he could see quite clearly now that she had taken her sneakers off at the door, Grady decided there was one thing he liked about Christmas now—Emily. Even though she was glaring at him, she looked beautiful decked out for the holidays.

  In the last two weeks, Grady had felt like he was losing his mind, his only contact with Emily a brief phone discussion about when she’d arrive at his home, communication that had hardly satisfied his need to be close to her. He’d waited for this day for what seemed like forever, and now she was pissed. But he refused to back down, and honestly, he was finding her temper pretty damn adorable and sexy. “No. I already signed the truck over to you.” He was handing her the pink slip to his truck, but she was staring at it like it was a snake that was ready to bite her. “Your truck wasn’t safe
. You’ve been driving this one for two weeks. If it isn’t what you like, I’ll get you something else.”

  “Of course I like it. It’s big; it’s completely loaded. God, it even has heated leather seats to keep my ass warm. But that isn’t the point. It doesn’t belong to me. The only reason I’ve been driving it is because I don’t have my truck. You told me we would trade when I got here for Christmas.”

  “I lied,” he answered, not feeling even a tiny bit of guilt. There was no way he was going to give her back an unsafe vehicle to drive. Her hands were propped on her shapely hips, her eyes staring at the paper he was holding out to her, but making absolutely no movement to take it. “Take it. It’s one of the things I want,” he said, waving the title in front of her face.

  “I want my truck. Where is it?” She ignored the paper being held in front of her, and shot him an obstinate look.

  Grady didn’t think now was probably a good time to tell her that her truck was probably in a scrap metal pile somewhere in another city. “It’s gone. It was unsafe to drive.”

  “It was perfectly safe. It just needed new tires. Give it back.”

  Grady smirked. “Or what? You’ll have me arrested for giving you a better truck?”

  “You stole my vehicle,” she accused, swatting at the hand holding the title to her new ride.

  “I replaced a piece of shit with a brand new truck. It only has a couple hundred miles on it,” he told her reasonably.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked him, her deep blue eyes confused and vulnerable.

  Oh, Christ! Although he liked seeing her all fiery and pissed off, he didn’t like her looking upset. Those wide blue eyes sucker-punched him in the gut, and he quickly tucked the title of the truck into the back pocket of her jeans and scooped her up into his arms.

  He sat on the leather couch, bringing her down on top of him. “What did I do? I thought you’d be happy to have a newer vehicle. Yours sucked,” he grumbled quietly, watching her angelic face as she stared back at him and tried to scramble off his lap. “Don’t move,” he demanded, holding her tighter, but not hard enough to hurt her. Having her shapely rear wriggling against his rock-hard cock was torture, but having her warm, cuddly body pressed against him was worth it. “I’m keeping your ass warm,” he informed her in what he hoped was a casual voice. “I thought you liked that.”

  Emily stopped all movement and her head jerked around to look at Grady. A few seconds later, she burst into uncontrollable laughter, her whole body shaking, her eyes tearing with mirth. “This isn’t getting you out of giving my truck back, but I can honestly say I’ve never had someone offer to be my butt warmer before,” she gasped, still trying to recover her breath.

  “Your truck is non-retrievable. You’ll have to take the newer one,” Grady answered, knowing that even if he could get it back, he wouldn’t. There was no way his woman was driving around in that old hunk of junk during a Maine winter. “Most people would be happy to have a more reliable vehicle.” Honestly, he didn’t understand her ire. “Why can’t you just take it as a Christmas present? You’re the one who said Christmas is all about giving. You’re not exactly cheery about getting a gift.”

  “It’s too much, Grady,” she answered him seriously, her blue eyes warming as she ran her palm along the stubble on his jawline. “I appreciate it, but I can’t take a gift that expensive.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not expensive to me. Shouldn’t a gift be relative to what someone can afford? I have other vehicles. I even have another truck. I’ll never even miss it.” It was the truth. He’d went out and bought another truck right after he’d decided to give her the one she had been driving.

  Emily sighed, her eyes searching his face. “We really are from two different worlds. Having that kind of money is unimaginable to me. I have to budget for everything.”

  “I don’t have to budget. I just write a check and I never miss the money. Please take it, Emily. Let me have peace of mind that you’re more secure in shitty weather. Please,” Grady asked huskily, hoping she’d say yes.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not really. I think that deathtrap is probably already scrap metal.”

  Emily sighed, resigned. “Give me some time, okay? I’m not happy that you made that decision without talking to me first.”

  Grady shrugged. “You would have said no, and I wouldn’t have accepted that. It was easier this way.” She might as well get used to it. He was going to protect what was his, and as far as he was concerned, she already belonged to him. He knew she definitely had him, whether she wanted him or not.

  Dropping her hand, she folded both of them together in her lap, and Grady saw tears begin to stream down her beautiful face.

  Fuck!

  “I don’t know how to deal with this,” Emily said, dejected.

  “What?” Grady asked, confused.

  “I don’t understand. I don’t know why you’re doing this. I’m used to solving my own problems, and I’m not used to having anyone who cares whether I drive an old vehicle or if my glasses are scratched. I’m definitely not accustomed to a man who would donate a million bucks just to spend Christmas with me, thereby saving my ass and maybe my job after another man just used me to get quick access to money.” Emily drew a deep breath and added, “I can’t figure out your motive and it’s driving me crazy. I’m just an ordinary woman. I’m not beautiful or the type of woman any man would lose his mind over. I’m not worth all this, so the things you’re doing make absolutely no sense.”

  Grady had tried to be patient, but as soon as she finished speaking, he completely lost it.

  Emily was on her back on the couch, Grady pinning her body to the leather, before she even knew what had happened. Startled, she stared at the fierce expression on his face, looming right above hers, with trepidation. He’d switched positions so fast that her mind was still whirling.

  “It’s only money. And don’t ever say you aren’t worth it and that you aren’t beautiful,” he rumbled angrily. “I grew up with money, I’ve always had it, and now I have more than I’d need in a hundred lifetimes. I don’t give a shit about money. It doesn’t make people happy. Rich people can be pretty damn miserable. Maybe it would be worth it to me to actually experience a different kind of Christmas for a change. I think you’re worth every stupid thing I give you and a hell of a lot more.”

  She gaped at him, his words touching a place in her heart that made it ache with sadness. Because right at the moment, she realized that this man wasn’t happy, and probably never had been. The fact that he hated Christmas should have tipped her off, but she’d been too busy wondering why he was doing anything for her to realize that he was actually hurting. Somewhere deep inside, Grady Sinclair had wounds that weren’t visible, but were obviously painful. She’d been too caught up in the money to realize that there was so much more to his behavior than money. In fact, she believed him. The money really did mean nothing to him.

  “You don’t have to give me anything to spend Christmas with me, Grady. I want to be with you,” she answered, feeling the truth in her words. “You didn’t need to give so much to the Center, and I don’t need an expensive truck. I’m alone this year too,” she whispered quietly.

  “Not anymore,” he answered fiercely. “You have me.”

  Emily sighed and her body relaxed beneath his. She could have protested that they barely knew each other, that they had never had more than a spectacular kiss and a long phone conversation. But, the truth was, she had felt the connection between them from the very moment she’d looked up at him from her undignified position on his front porch. But she was a practical woman, and she was afraid that Grady Sinclair was heartbreak waiting to happen. “Did you really think I was a prostitute? Do you…um…do that a lot?”

  “No. But my older brother Evan seems to think not getting laid on a regular basis makes me irritable,” h
e replied, his eyes still boring into her, his expression intense.

  “Does it?” she asked curiously, wriggling a little to see if she could escape her prison, or at least get her arms loose.

  “Not any more irritable than I usually am. But it doesn’t stop him from trying occasionally.”

  Emily’s arms finally broke free from between their bodies, and she wrapped them around his neck, aching to try to relieve some of the turmoil she could see in his smoky eyes. “Where is all your family?”

  His eyes grew darker. “None of us particularly like the holidays. My father was a drunk, and the holidays weren’t a good time for my family. Evan is conveniently on business in another country where they don’t celebrate Christmas, and my other brothers are working, too. My sister is in Aspen with her latest loser boyfriend who none of us can talk her into dumping because all he wants is her money.”

  “Then I guess you’re stuck with me,” she told him lightly, stroking the silky strands of hair at the nape of his neck. This man deserved a happier experience, and she was determined to give it to him.

  “You’re taking the truck,” he mumbled stubbornly.

  “I’m putting up a Christmas tree,” she warned him. “And I’m baking cookies. You have to listen to Christmas music for a whole week.”

  He grimaced slightly, but answered, “I don’t care. As long as you stay, and keep the truck, I’ll negotiate.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers.

  Every nerve in Emily’s body was vibrating with need, and it was more than just physical. Grady was holding the majority of his weight from her body with his arms, but his muscular body was still plastered against hers from knees to chest, and she could feel the heavy, hard length of his cock pressing against her core. The heat of his body and the scent of his arousal surrounded her, and all she wanted was to melt against him and…

  Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong.

  The huge wall clock struck six o’clock, shaking Emily from her sensual thoughts. “Oh shit…the party!” She’d been so distracted that she’d completely forgotten that they needed to get to the party at the Center. She wriggled in earnest, knowing she was already late.