by JB Salsbury
We walk through the short hallway that opens into a living room—
“Surprise!”
“Merry Christmas!”
A male and female voice shout in unison.
Right there, standing just a few feet away, is Jonah “The Assassin” Slade and a dark-haired beauty, who must be his wife. In that moment I don’t know if I’m more nervous to be standing in the same room with the greatest heavyweight MMA fighter in the world, or Carey’s mom and dad. I’m thinking it’s the latter.
“Holy fuck!” Carey says. “What are you guys doing here?”
As Jonah crosses the room to greet his son I realize I’m getting a visual of what it means to have a bull in a china shop. But this bull moves gracefully, in full control of his size and body. He wraps his son in a bear hug and I almost expect to hear thunder when they crash together. Carey is a big guy, but wrapped in his dad’s arms he looks like a child.
“You think we’d miss the opportunity to spend Christmas with you and your sister?” He pulls away giving Carey’s mom a chance to love on her son.
As she does, the big guys head swivels my way. I suck in a breath and try not to pass out.
“Let me guess,” the giant says, his voice as deep and intimidating as I imagined it would be. “You must be Rowan.”
“Yes, but how…”
Carey’s mom who is just as intimidating because of her dark hair and pale blue-green eyes gives me a hug. “Carey told us about you.”
I look at the guy who’s looking back at me with a soft smile and warm eyes. “You did?”
His mom releases me and slips back to stand next to her husband. “Not everything, but he did mention you were his tutor.”
“I am. And thank you so much for the new starter. I’m so grateful and if I could pay you back—”
Carey’s big arm comes over my shoulders. “She made me and the guys dinner. We’re even.”
Sadie steps up and hands me a warm mug of apple cider. “You cooked dinner for those animals? In that case, I might need you in the kitchen.”
“Of course, please. Put me to work.”
The sliding glass door that faces the ocean opens and in walks a tall blonde guy with a brown dog running circles around his legs. “Honey! No, outside. You’re covered in sand.” He bends over, shoos the dog out, and closes the door. He spots Carey immediately and smiles and wow…he’s very attractive too. Is it something in the water? “Care Bear!”
Carey groans and calls back with a scowl. “Jack Off!”
The blonde, who I’m assuming is Sadie’s husband, chuckles.
“Jack, this is Carey’s friend Rowan.”
He crosses the room to me and his beauty is potent. He shakes my hand. “So…your friends with our little Care Bear, huh?”
“Care Bear?” I smirk up at a growling Carey.
Jack cups his mouth. “We call him that because he likes his tummy tickled.”
“And my brother-in-law here is very curious about what it would be like to gargle on his own severed testicles.”
“Carey, gross!” Sadie says, hugging her husband’s side. “Don’t you dare. Only I get to gargle Jack’s testicles.”
“Fuckin’ hell.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
Jonah and Carey grumble in unison.
Jack high fives his wife. “Good one, babe.”
“Thanks.” She kisses his cheek. “I wasn’t kidding.”
“Enough of that shit, where’s the beer.” Carey leaves me to go to the kitchen and just as I’m about to have a nervous meltdown I feel his hand grip mine. “Come with me. I don’t trust these assholes around you.”
I give his hand a squeeze of thanks and I swear his chest puffs a little when I do.
Carey
“Are you going to finish that?” I’ve been eyeballing Rowan’s desert plate for the past five minutes. She’s been deep in a conversation with Sadie about art, my sister’s favorite subject, and she has apple pie ala mode right in front of her.
“Seriously? First my meal and now my dessert?”
I shrug because, well, duh. Yeah, seriously. “I don’t like to waste food.”
“He’s a human dumpster,” Sadie says sipping her coffee with a smile.
“I was literally mid-bite.” Ro sighs and slides her plate in front of me. “Fine. Go ahead.”
“Fuck yeah.” I finish it off in three bites to the utter amazement of the pretty girl next to me. I want to lean over and kiss her, to give her back a little of the taste still swirling in my mouth, but instead I press my lips to the top of her head and whisper, “Thank you,” as I stand to bring the plate in.
My dad is at the sink, Jack at the counter with a stack of Tupperware making meals to-go. I place my dish in the sink water and grab a dish towel to help dry. We work in silence for a few minutes, but I’m not stupid. I know it’s not going to last, and sure enough my dad finally asks the question I know him and my mom have been itching to ask all afternoon.
“You and Rowan?” He hands me a saucepan to dry, his expression mostly impassive because, well, that’s just my dad.
“I uh…” I shrug. “I don’t know.”
He frowns. “You don’t know? This is the first time you’ve ever brought a woman to meet me and your mom.”
“In my defense, I didn’t know you and mom were going to be here.”
He hands me a dripping platter. “If you knew we were here, would you still have invited her?”
“Yeah.” No question.
“Stop being a pain in the ass and tell the man what he wants to know,” Jack smirks over his shoulder and I flip him off.
“I like her.” That doesn’t seem like enough, but it’s a start. Hell, that’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. Progress.
“I can see that with my own damn eyes, son.” He hands me a wine glass. “Tell me what I can’t see.”
“I had her in my room.”
My dad’s sudsy scrubbing hand freezes against a plate. He lifts his gaze and cranks his big head around to face me. “Say again?”
“You heard me.” I lean my back against the counter making sure only he can hear what I’m about to say next. “We haven’t even kissed though.”
His brows pop high on his forehead.
“I know, right?” I shake my head. “It’s weird, it’s like…I want to. I mean, fuck…look at her. I really want to. But, she’s a good girl. So smart, and she’s funny, and she makes me feel like…” I drop my chin and groan. “I’m so afraid I’ll—”
“Fuck things up.”
I sigh. “Yeah.”
He goes back to washing. “You’re doing the right thing. If you really care for this girl, you need to respect her boundaries.”
“But how do I get her to understand that I want to be more than friends—”
The plate slips from my dad’s grip sending a wave of dishwater to the floor.
“Really,” I say dryly. “You’re so fucking shocked by me wanting a relationship with a girl that you drop a damn plate?”
“It was slippery.”
I roll my eyes. “Anyway, I need her to know I’m in this for the long haul. However long it takes, I want to be with her. Committed. I want her to be my…my…”
“Girlfriend,” Jack pipes up from the opposite side of the kitchen with his back facing us.
“You got fucking bat ears or something?”
He waves a finger indicating the walls. “Good acoustics in here.”
“Suck a dick, Daniels. You hear that?”
“I did, but you know that’s your sister’s job—ouch!” He rubs his arm where I just landed a solid punch.
“You deserved that,” my dad says to him.
I grin, pleased as shit that hit I landed is going to leave a mark.
He grabs a wet hand towel and snaps it hard, nailing my right nut.
“Aw fuck.” I cup my junk, double over and try not to vomit. “You motherfucker.”
“That’s enough, boys, yo
u’re even.”
When my stomach finally stops hurting, I stand up and glare at the back of Jack’s head. I’m putting a dog turd in his pillowcase before I leave.
“Tell her,” my dad says.
I don’t immediately respond because I’m also thinking about filling his coffee creamer with a powerful laxative.
“You want her to know how you feel, just fucking tell her.” My dad wipes his hands dry and squeezes the back of my neck. “It’s not rocket science, son.”
Tell her.
But that means putting myself out there. I did that in the hot tub by moving in for a kiss and she shot me down. I don’t think I could handle another rejection.
Chapter Eleven
Rowan
“You guys can let her go now,” Carey says in a bored tone that hints to irritation. “You already hugged her goodbye inside.”
After a delicious meal, dessert, and a couple Bailey’s and coffees, I’m feeling warm and happy all over. Carey’s parents weren’t nearly as intimidating as they appear. They’re genuine people who really love their kids and accepted me instantly with open arms. Literally. I’ve been wrapped in Carey’s mom, Raven’s, arms three times now and I have to say…it’s not a terrible place to be. Jonah is more of a one arm hugger, and because of the size of his arms, I think that’s for my benefit. Even Sadie has hugged me twice.
“Next time you have car trouble, let me know okay?” Raven releases me from her arms. “I have connections here in LA if you ever need any work done.”
“She doesn’t need your connections,” Carey says as he sidles up next to me. “She’s got me.”
Raven’s eyes warm on her son. “She does, doesn’t she?”
Her strange response has me looking at Carey who rolls his eyes and then opens the car door. “Load ‘em up, Ro. If we don’t get the fuck out of here I don’t think they’ll ever let you leave.”
“Thanks again, that was seriously…” The best Christmas ever? Am I exposing how pathetic I am if I tell them the truth? That I’ve never had a family Christmas and certainly never had one that left me feeling so full, and that has zero to do with food. “Wonderful.” My eyes heat with tears, but I will not let them see so I jump into the truck and blow out a breath of relief when Carey closes the door and I’m plunged into darkness.
He lifts his chin to his family, he’ll be seeing them at his game day after tomorrow. As he passes by his brother-in-law he punches him in the gut. Jack folds over while Carey jogs the rest of the way to the car with a satisfied grin.
I wave as we pull away from the house and then sit back and sigh heavily. “That was so much fun.” I roll my head to the side and watch Carey maneuver the truck through the narrow streets back to the freeway. “You have a great family.”
“They’re all right,” he says with a grin indicating he thinks they’re much more than just “all right.”
The lights of his dash cast his face in a blue glow that makes his hair look black and his jaw and cheekbones more pronounced. There are not words for the kind of pretty Carey Slade is. His masculine potency is dangerous, but not the kind of dangerous a woman fears. No, his kind of dangerous is the kind a woman runs to.
“I got something on my face?”
“No, I just like staring at you because you’re pretty.” I bite my lips together because what the hell. I blame the Baileys. It’s not like I just told him something he doesn’t already know. “I might be a little buzzed.”
He frowns and tightens both fists on the steering wheel.
Dammit, he’s doing that thing again where he seems to get mad for no apparent reason. Maybe it’s best if I don’t talk.
“Do you mind if I put on some Christmas music?”
“Go ‘head.”
I put on the twenty-four-hour holiday music station, turn my head toward the window and try to hang on to as much of this holiday high as I can. Because tomorrow everything goes back to the way it was. The way things were before Carey Slade entered my life. Back to being on my own. Back to a life that revolves around academics. A lot more lonely, a lot less laughter.
I’ll miss his secret hugs. His secret kisses. His attention.
Part of me wonders if I should just say screw it and allow myself one night with him. As soon as the thought filters through my head so does the fear for the emptiness that will follow.
I assume the only reason he’s still even speaking to me is because I haven’t had sex with him.
Bing Crosby sings White Christmas and I relive the night in my head. The meal, the great conversations, the feeling of family something I never experienced until tonight.
If someone had told me in high school that one day Carey Slade would give me an invaluable gift, I would’ve laughed in their face. And yet, he did.
I’ll carry it with me for the rest of my life. Carry him with me for the rest of my life.
“Ro, wake up.”
I blink open my eyes and check out the freeway signs that tell me we’re just entering the LA area. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.” I rub the sore spot on my head where it was pressed against the glass.
“I thought you were just really enjoying the scenery.” He’s more relaxed now. I guess the moment of silence between us mellowed him out some. “You want to come over?”
“Right now?”
He shrugs. “Why not? It’s only nine. We can watch a Christmas movie or have a drink in the hot tub.”
“I…shouldn’t. I have to be up early, and you need your sleep. You have your final and—”
“It’s Christmas. Let’s stop worrying about what we shouldn’t do and do what we want to do.”
Was that supposed to sound like a proposition? Or am I still half asleep and buzzed? Although, really, what am I fighting? Prolonging this day sounds like a great idea. Much better than going back to my windowless room to sit in the stark, cold silence alone.
“Let’s do it.”
His answering grin is triumphant. “That’s my girl.”
Carey
“You filthy son-of-a-whore!” Jack’s booming voice through the Bluetooth speakers in my truck makes Rowan jump.
“Sadie let you talk about our mom like that?”
“Ow! Fuck, babe, I wasn’t literally talking about your mom.” He’s trying to calm Sadie who I hear bitching at him in the background. “Right, but you know I love your mom—ow! Stop hitting!”
I grin into my phone as I pull into my driveway. “That’s what I thought.”
“What did you do?” Rowan whispers.
“Put dog shit in his pillow. A little Christmas gift.” I wink and she gags.
“I wondered what you were doing in the backyard before you left.” He groans. “Damn, that stinks.”
“You sure you didn’t crap your pants?”
“I put my head on it, you assfuck. I felt it squish underneath my ear!”
I can’t help it, I laugh until I’m near tears.
“It’s on now,” Jack says, trying his best to sound intimidating. It doesn’t work.
“Bring it, little bitch boy.”
“Merry Christmas, douchebag.”
I hit End and pop off my seatbelt.
“Have you and Jack always hated each other?” Rowan gathers her bags of leftovers.
“I don’t hate Jack. We all grew up together. He’s like a brother to me.”
She pushes her hair away from her confused eyes. “But, you put dog poop in his pillow.”
“Since he started macking on my sister I took that as permission to give him hell. He dishes it out too, so the arrangement works.”
We jump from the truck and head up to the house. The place is empty, all the guys went home for a couple days to be with their families. All except Spider. He gets weird on Christmas. We stay out of his way.
“What’ll it be? Christmas movie? Hot tub? Both?” I open the door and allow her through first.
“A movie sounds nice.” She holds up the leftovers. “I’ll put these in the
fridge.”
“Grab me a beer and whatever you want to drink, meet me on the couch.”
She flashes a bashful smile and I may linger a little too long as I watch her walk away.
My dad was right. I need to just tell her what’s on my mind. I planned on doing it in the car where I knew she wouldn’t be able to run away, but I worried about her rejection making the rest of the car ride uncomfortable. She ended up falling asleep so I could practice my speech. I know I only have one shot at this and I don’t want to fuck it up.
Now I have her here, in my house, without a car. This is my chance. Sure, the car ride back to her place might be uncomfortable, but at least it’s only twenty minutes instead of two hours.
I flip on the television and fall back on the couch, kick my shoes off, and prop my socked-feet on the coffee table looking for something Christmasey to watch.
I settle on The Christmas Story.
When Rowan joins me she does it with a beer in each hand. She’s wearing black leggings with lace up black boots and a red Christmas sweater that has been distracting me all day.
“I love this movie,” she says with a smile.
I accept the offered beer, and she takes a seat next to me on the couch, putting a good two feet of distance between us. My shoulders tense and I stare accusingly at the couch cushion between us.
I’ve had just about enough of this shit.
“I was always fascinated by the idea that a person could get their tongue frozen to a pole.” Her eyes are glued to the screen. “I can’t imagine…” She sticks her tongue out.
My pulse kicks.
She presses the slick, pink thing to the neck of her frosty beer bottle. “Howl cole doeth ith hath ta thee.”
“Ro.”
She jerks her head around and fuck me her tongue is still out. She pulls it back into her mouth. “Sorry—”
“Don’t say sorry. I—fuck.” I lean forward, place my beer down, and brace my elbows on my knees. “Look, I need to tell you something.”
She sets her beer down and scoots closer to me. “What is it? Are you nervous about the test tomorrow because you really do have all the concepts down—”
“No.” I turn a glare on her. “I’m not nervous about the fucking test.”
