by Liz Crowe
Everyone in the room went utterly silent, regarding Jace as if he’d suggested they eat their feet for diner. He shrugged.
“Full-ride scholarship, Daddy,” Dom stated, keeping his cool in a way he’d come to value, thanks to a lot of years of practice, not to mention staying on his medication.
“Well, I always knew you could do it. Taught you that hook shot myself.” Anton smiled up at his grandson without missing a beat. Jace kissed his balding head and bounded into the kitchen, leaving Dom with his brothers and father.
“This calls for a drink.” Anton pulled out one of the bottles of Love Bourbon, poured them all a generous helping and held up his glass then, with a wry smile, pulled a bag out from behind the sideboard. Dom grinned when his father settled the red and black Louisville Cardinals ball cap on his head with a slight wince, as if the thing had burned his scalp, then gave three more over to Antony, Kieran and Aiden. His brothers pretended to choke and gag, but they put the hats on too.
The moment froze in Dominic’s memory, making him even more glad he’d bitten the bullet and dealt with his own demons since it had netted him his place once more amidst the Love family. They were his rock and anchor. He had to take them, warts and all, just like they took him.
“Let’s eat, ya’ll,” Angelique called from the kitchen. Dom shot Kieran a glance, surprised to see her here.
“Just wait,” his brother whispered. “Mama’s got a matchmaking reunion up her sleeve this year.”
As they were filing into the crowded dining room, the doorbell rang.
“Angelique, honey, will you get that for me?” Lindsay sang out. Kieran elbowed him as the girl—no, a woman now—threw open the door.
“Merry Chri—” she began.
Dom peeked over her shoulder and spotted her ex-husband, the former EMT, now Doctor Calvin Morrison, standing there, holding a bottle of wine and a bouquet of roses, his face set in determined lines.
“Mama!” Angelique screeched, gripping the door and staring at the man she’d dumped in favor of some a-hole—for reasons that escaped everyone in the Love family—who’d moved her to Florida, then left her high-and-dry.
Dom stepped up, quickly took the wine and flowers, then moved aside so Cal could grab the stubborn girl and lay a kiss on her that made everyone behind them start whistling and clapping.
“Merry Christmas, Angel. I love you,” Cal said, once he broke the liplock, impressing Dom with his straightforwardness.
She struggled a half-second, then threw her arms around him. Dom gave the wine to Kieran and headed for the kitchen to find a vase.
They all sat in their usual places for the dinner, with the kids filling a large second table in the adjacent living room. Dom took his mother’s hand. Lindsay said grace and the eating frenzy commenced.
By the time they’d all finished and the second generation had done the cleanup, Dom and his brothers had drawn straws for the Santa suit. He got the job for the first time in a while so he hammed it up, ho-ho-hoing like mad and distributing the zillions of presents piled around the Love family tree. As he fished the final wrapped packages out and passed them to the proper recipients, he felt a tug on his Santa coat.
“Well, who is this? A Christmas princess has come from the North Pole and she has something for me?” He snatched the girl up, noting that she’d probably be too old for such nonsense by next year and kissed her cheek. “Merry Christmas, LeeAnn, my sweet.”
“Here, Daddy.” She held out a gift, her jet-black hair curled into little ringlets, cheeks flushed from too much sugar. “This is from me. I made it in my art class.”
He set her down and opened the box, pulling out a T-shirt that had a beer glass painted on it, and the words My Dad Loves Me More Than Beer above that. He held it up to his chest and let the room make admiring noises. Then he crouched down and met the girl’s serious gaze. He kissed her nose and pulled a small jewelry box out of his pocket. “Here, take this to your mama for me, okay, princess?”
She nodded and bounded across the room. Dom picked up his bourbon and sipped, watching as his wife accepted the present, then burst into tears, bringing all the sisters-in-law, his sister, and his mother running.
Jace joined him, holding the bourbon bottle and a glass. Dom frowned at him at first, then shrugged and held his out for a refill. “Just one for you, junior,” he muttered.
“Good call, Santa.” Jace sipped, then nodded toward the scrum of women hovering around Diana. “She’s a keeper. ‘Bout time you laid a ring on her.” He raised his glass. “Merry Christmas.”
***
Dom sat by his fireplace that night, arm around his wife, dog at his feet and had never felt more content. It had taken him nearly a full three years of begging, pleading, cajoling and babying but Diana had finally capitulated. After what he referred to as the horror of LeeAnn’s birth, he’d been focused on two things—expanding Love Brewing and getting Diana to marry him.
Dom had stuck with her through the stages of grief, anger and despair, and had assisted with the sale of Lee’s property to the county Humane Society, and the conversion of the Brantley farmhouse into a bed-and-breakfast. Once she’d closed that deal, he’d claimed she had no choice but to move with the then-toddler LeeAnn in with him, in his new house, a simple one-story on a few acres, not far from Antony’s.
She’d claimed he only wanted the baby in his house. He’d pleaded the fifth, but wouldn’t deny his nearly irrepressible urge to have them both under his roof, with Jace of course. They were a package deal.
Diana snuggled into his neck, and ran her fingers down his bare chest under the Santa coat that she’d insisted he keep on. “Nice to see Jace behaving today.”
“He’s fine,” Dom insisted, groggy and not wanting to engage in anything resembling conflict. “Not sure what’ll happen with that girlfriend of his, whatever her name is.”
“It’s Helen, you pig.”
“Helen, Susan, Janice, whatever. Trust me, he barely remembers it.”
She smacked his chest but he held her tighter.
“Baby, I am only speaking the truth. He’s his father’s son.”
“Yeah, well, I only had to throw away four used condoms I found when I cleaned his room this week. So….” She turned her face up to his.
“Darlin’, if the damn kid were more me, there would be no condoms to throw away. And that would be, in a word, bad. Hey, speaking of teenagers having sex, did you catch the hickeys on Jeff’s neck? Aiden is freaking out over that kid. Serves him right.”
Dom let the looming exhaustion from a full belly, too much bourbon and excitement fog over his brain. “Oh and what the hell is going on with Mandy?” He named Aiden and Rosalee’s daughter. “She was like some kinda devil worshiper in all that black. I thought Mama was gonna choke when she saw the hot-pink hair-dye job. Antony told me she had a tattoo.”
“It’s not a contest to see whose kids are the most fucked-up, Dominic.” Diana stretched her arms over her head and her toes closer to the fire.
Dom grinned and slid his hand up her bare leg. “Well sure it is, doll. You’re just now catching on?” He grimaced. “Damn, this dog has the worst farts…say, honey, did you get a load of Josh’s girlfriend? Antony told me he and Margot are terrified she’s gonna get knocked up and…hey!” Dom rubbed his shoulder where Diana had punched him. She frowned, but he grabbed her and kissed the entwined Ds tattoo on the inside of her wrist, then held out his matching one next to it.
“I can’t believe you kept this, married to another man and all.” He kissed his way up her arm to her neck.
“Lee wasn’t the jealous type. One of his many superior qualities.” She flicked the ring in his nipple.
“Hmm…okay. I’m not gonna speak ill of the dead or anything, but I’ll bet he couldn’t do this as well as yours truly.” He pushed her down, yanking her silky shorts off with one jerk before diving down and focusing on her pleasure until she came with a sigh, digging her bare heels into his back.
> He rose up, wiping his lips, watching her shiver. She opened her eyes, smiling in that way she had—the way that made him feel safe, loved…and wanting to fuck.
“C’mere.” He flopped onto his butt. She crawled over and straddled him, her left side lit from the dancing flames in the grate, her hair tumbling down her back. “Je-sus.” He pressed his face into her chest, holding tight to her ass. “Remind me to give you a diamond ring seven years late more often.” He angled his hips and thrust faster, nearing release, but never wanting to be disconnected from her ever again.
“Dominic,” Diana whispered. “I love you. Thank you.”
“I love you,” he gasped, realizing he still had on the stupid Santa coat. “Whew. Thanks. Santa needed that.”
She grinned. “Naughty Santa…just the way I like him.” She tugged his nipple ring, making him grunt as she got up and off him.
“Don’t ever leave me,” he called out to her enticing, retreating backside.
“Only if you deserve it,” she replied, grabbing her robe from a nearby chair and wrapping up in it. “Here.” She tossed him a pair of shorts. “Naughty Santa time’s over. Cover it. Kids’ll be back upstairs any second.”
“But…why?” The fire warmed his skin as he pulled on the shorts and tugged the now sweaty Santa coat together over his chest. The sex on top of all the earlier excess took its toll and he drifted toward a happy doze.
“Daddy!”
He smiled at the sound of LeeAnn’s voice, mentally thanking the girl’s mother for tossing him clothing. She clambered up onto the couch and into his lap. “Jace says I have to go up to bed.”
Dom kissed her hair. He’d built his son a veritable suite of rooms in the basement, but the boy loved his baby sister and knew to how to keep her entertained with video games and movies at opportune times. “I love you, princess.”
“I want a puppy.” She snuggled into his side.
Skywalker whined at their feet as if sensing the topic.
“We’ll go play with Uncle Aiden’s puppy tomorrow.” He deflected like a pro, something else he’d gotten good at. “Time for bed.”
“Okay. Promise?”
“Promise.” He spotted Diana in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. “I’ll do anything for you, baby.” He spoke to LeeAnn but kept his gaze on Diana.
“I know.” The girl placed her small palm on his rough cheek. “I’m a daddy’s girl.”
He grinned. “There are worse things,” he claimed, tugging her close.
“Much worse,” Diana said, sitting beside them and pressing her lips to his over the girl’s head.
“Eww, stop it,” LeeAnn insisted, squirming away and hitting the floor running, headed to her room.
“I’m going over to Helen’s,” Jace called from somewhere near the door. “Bye, Daddy. Merry Christmas, Mama. Love you both!”
“You have a curfew.” Diana started to get to her feet.
“Be smart, son.” Dom pulled her back down and into his arms, burying his nose in her neck.
“I don’t like that girl,” Diana insisted before she kissed him.
“You don’t like any girls,” Dom muttered around her lips.
“Just wait until your little princess gets picked up for her first date.” She shoved him away and plopped her feet onto his lap. “Hey, maybe she’ll date somebody just like her daddy.” She bit her lip at his instant reaction to that concept.
“That is so not funny,” he said, meaning it. “LeeAnn Tolliver Love will not date, ever, especially not anyone like me.”
Diana burst out laughing and crawled onto his lap. “Oh, Dominic, I love you.”
“I love you, too. But, um, what does that have to do with how I’m locking that girl in her room until she’s thirty?” Dom experienced his first father-of-a-girl honest panic. He didn’t like it, but figured it for something he’d best get used to.
“You’re so adorable when you’re being unrealistic.” His wife opened her robe and put her bare breasts on his eye level. Dom gulped and cupped them, then let go, his mind spinning in all sorts of horrible directions.
“Please tell me she won’t date someone like me, Diana. Please? Jesus help me.”
“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” She distracted him with her lips and tongue.
Later, they lay curled up in bed together, dog snoring gently nearby. Dom smiled up at the ceiling, thanking the Lord for his luck. He kissed Diana’s hair. “We aren’t letting her date, ever, right?”
“Lordy, just give it a rest, Sean. Go to sleep. I love you.”
“Okay, I love you too.” He took a long breath. “No dating for LeeAnn though.”
“Oh, please,” his wife said just before her breathing evened out in sleep.
The End
About The Author
Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.
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Read More Liz Books
The Love Brothers Series:
Love Garage
Coach Love
Coming soon….
Safe Love (a Free Love Brothers Novella)
Family Love
The Stewart Realty Series:
Floor Time
Sweat Equity
Closing Costs
Essence of Time
Conditional Offer
Escalation Clause
Mutual Release
Good Faith
House Rules
Coming soon….
Net Worth
The Black Jack Gentlemen Series:
Man On
Red Card
Shut Out
Coming soon….
Hat Trick
The Turkish Delights Series:
Turkish Delights
Blue Cruise
Tulip Princess
The Diplomat’s Daughter
Flower Passage
Stand Alone Novels:
Paradise Hops
Cheeky Blonde
Honey Red
Caught Offside
Healing Hearts
Coming soon….
Vegas Miracle
The Tap Room
Lady Balls
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