by Brenna Lyons
All I Want for Christmas is You
Copyright © December 2009 by Brenna Lyons
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eISBN 978-1-60737-463-3
Editor: Heather Hollis
Cover Artist: April Martinez
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Published by
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About this Title
Genre: Erotic Contemporary
Two years after Robin’s fiancé dies in a car crash, she has sorted her priorities and decided to follow through with one of their plans. A baby. Of course, it would be best if that baby shared some of Zach’s genes.
Enter David, Zach’s older brother. He’s her best friend, her confidant, the one person who won’t dismiss her plans as insane…she hopes. And maybe sex with him will get David out of her fantasies, fantasies where he takes Zach’s place.
Or maybe they won’t. If Robin hadn’t been Zach’s when David met her, he would have stopped at nothing to make her his own. If she doesn’t hate him for giving her what she’s asking for, they might both get the Christmas gift they want most.
David is nothing like Zach. He’s more physical, more adventurous in the bedroom, and not patient enough to take the long, slow approach to what he wants. Which is precisely what Robin loves about him.
Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse.
Dedication
To my inspiration for this story, Liam Neeson.
Prologue
January 29, 2008
Robin Lewis snapped awake at the sound of the doorbell and forced herself up to sitting. She focused her bleary eyes on the red LCD glow of the clock. “Three o'clock?”
A shaft of fear struck the center of her chest. Stories about people murdered or raped in their own homes magnified it.
Would it be better not to answer it? They might go away, if there was no sport inside. Or they might come in, believing the house is empty.
Then again, if she answered, they'd know a woman was inside.
Damn it! She'd never been afraid with Zach here, but Zach was in Portland on business, trying to finalize the purchase of another established company to expand Carson and Carson.
The doorbell rang again, and a brisk knock followed. Something in the latter told her that feigning an empty house would be a very bad idea.
Her knees shaking, Robin pushed to her feet and grabbed the heavy fleece robe off the headboard. She belted it around her on the way to the door, hesitated, then scooped up the cordless phone.
While she didn't want to appear foolish by calling the police before she knew what was going on, at the first sign of trouble, speed dial would be her best friend. Better yet, the police would respond to even an open line and silence, if she dialed 911.
The doorbell sounded a third time, just as she reached the door. Although the outside light was on—which Zach insisted on, whether he was home or not—she'd never been able to get a good look through the peephole, even on tiptoe.
“Yes?” she called out.
“Robin, it's me.”
She nearly crumpled in relief. “David? What are you doing here so late?” Without waiting for an answer, she started working the locks. Chances were, the storm had taken down the power lines between his house and hers and he needed somewhere warm to crash for the night.
Robin swung the door wide and stopped in shock. David wasn't alone. She stared at the police officer on the top step, her mouth going dry and gummy.
This was a first. Her soon-to-be brother-in-law had pulled a lot of stunts in his life, but to her knowledge, none had involved being arrested since he was twelve.
A nervous laugh bubbled up. “Aren't you a little old to be brought home by the police?”
Their grim expressions were the only answers forthcoming. Robin shivered…less from the cold from the open door than from a sense of dark foreboding. Something was wrong here. More than wrong.
She vaguely noted the edge of the door cutting into her fingers. A wild buzzing in her skull impeded her hearing. Her head spun, and her breathing went rough. Robin shook her head, gasping out a refusal of the obvious reason for their arrival.
The officer cleared his throat. “I'm sorry to have to tell you—”
“No,” she pleaded. It's not possible. Zach is in Portland.
“There was an accid—”
“No! He's at the Doubletree,” Robin insisted. She turned from the open door, hurrying to the notepad Zach kept next to the phone. “I'll get you the number. He's in room ten-twenty-f—”
“Robin!” David interrupted her.
She stared at him, shocked to silence by his outburst.
He stepped into the house and took careful, precise little steps toward her. It was nothing like his usual swagger. His hands were up in a calming gesture, as if he were approaching an injured animal. His shaggy brown hair was sticking up at odd angles, as if he'd dragged his hands through it repeatedly. His deep brown eyes—so like Zach's—were agonized, so tortured that she swore she could feel his emotions eating at her.
Maybe, it's my own pain I'm feeling.
“No,” she repeated. I have no reason to feel pain. Do I? A strange numbness stole over her muscles, and the cordless dropped to the table, bounced off the base, and went skittering across the room.
His expression went from concerned to stricken. “He came home early, Robin. Zach…wanted to surprise you, but…he…he was tired.”
A tear glistened at the corner of his eye. She stared at it, fixated.
No! Robin shook her head, sobs choking off another denial. Tears blurred her vision. Her knees buckled, and David gathered her to his chest.
“I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Lewis,” the officer intoned.
He sounded it, which only made her cry harder.
Miss Lewis. Only six weeks away from being Mrs. Carson, and that day will never come.
“Thank you,” David replied. “I'll take it from here.”
The door closed and latched.
David held her until her legs gave out entirely. Then he carried her to bed and tucked the blankets around her. “I'll take care of everything, Robin. You have my word.”
She choked again
at the promise. Robin didn't want to consider what needed “taken care of.” Zach wasn't a load of girders. She didn't want him to have to be “taken care of.”
“I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you.”
He didn't tell her everything would be all right. There was nothing right in this situation, and they both knew it. As such, David didn't lie to her about it.
Chapter One
November 29, 2009
“I want to have a baby.”
“C-come again?” David managed to stutter out. Overall, it was a better response than she'd anticipated to the announcement.
Robin took a calming breath and prepared to explain. Despite how many times she'd rehearsed the speech, it deserted her in the heat of the moment, just as she'd feared it would. Just as it often had with Zach.
“Well…Zach and I had planned to have a baby right away.”
He nodded, setting his beer on the table between them. “He mentioned it.”
That would make things easier. I hope. “I still want to.”
“Have…a baby.”
Robin hesitated and then nodded. He thinks I'm insane. Then again, she thought she was insane some days. How many weeks had she argued this with herself? How many times had she reversed course? More than Robin cared to count.
David gulped down another few mouthfuls of his beer, seemingly steeling himself for something unpleasant before he answered. “Robin, I know you love Zach.”
And she loved David for phrasing it that way. Anyone else would have said “loved Zach,” marginalizing her feelings, dismissing them. Putting the nails in the coffin of her love for him. She winced at the pun.
“But, baby… Much as we both love Zach, he is gone.”
Anyone else would have ended up with a faceful of red wine at that blunt statement, but David had always been honest with her when no one else would.
“I know,” she replied with all the dignity she could muster.
“The plans you made together…” David sighed. “They were meant to be carried out together. I'm not saying you're incapable of doing this without him,” he hastened to add.
“What are you saying, David?”
He darkened a notch. “Be sure, before you do something this…big. Be certain you're not doing this just to hold onto a piece of what you and Zach planned.”
She stiffened, offended that he'd think her capable of it. “I'm not.”
“Just be sure,” he insisted. “Holding onto the past just to—”
“I'm not!”
A couple at a nearby table slid a glance at them at her outburst. Robin pretended not to notice it, and they went back to their conversation.
David took her hand, stroking his thumb over the back and his fingers in the bowl of her palm. With that little provocation, her body responded.
It seemed to be happening more and more often. Touches he intended to soothe her aroused her senses. Shared looks made her heart pound in excitement. Whispered words had her wet and aching.
His voice dragged her back to the present.
“You've thought this through, then?”
“For months.” That was no exaggeration.
David raised her hand and pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “Then I'll help you.”
Her breathing hitched. That simply? I ask the seemingly insane, and he agrees nearly without question. David was a rare man. Zach would have demanded weeks of negotiation on the subject. She pushed that thought away before she started second-guessing herself again. “Thank you.”
“So what's it going to be? A sperm bank?”
Her face burned in embarrassment. Now comes the moment when he says I'm insane. Robin didn't doubt that his offer to help was about to be rescinded.
“Robin?” There was an edge of steel in that question, and he stopped stroking her hand.
“I was hoping…” She couldn't form the words. Damn! Why did I spend all that time practicing the logic if I can't speak coherently enough to say it?
One dark brow arched at her hesitation. “Hoped?” he prompted her.
“To have…ah…a donation from someone who shared chromosomes with Zach.” She knew she was pleading with him with her eyes. Not so much for his agreement; it was unlikely she'd get that much. Robin would be lucky if he didn't walk away and wash his hands of her.
The beer came up in David's free hand, and he drained it. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and set the empty glass back on the table. After a tense moment of silence, his eyes opened, and he forged on.
“You want me to… What? Leave a sample with your doctor or something?”
It sounded horrid, when phrased that way. Besides that, it wasn't what she wanted. She tried for humor, her heart aching. “If that's the only way you will.” At least, she'd get the baby that way, which was better than not, she supposed.
His eyes widened, and dark patches of color bloomed in his face. “If… If…?”
She stared to speak, uncertain what would spill out. It had been too much to ask. It was time to let him off the hook and get therapy for her fascination with him.
He put up an index finger, an unmistakable order for a moment of silence.
Robin snapped her mouth shut while cursing herself for not dropping the whole idea. She'd argued it was crazy at least a hundred times. Why had she bothered to pursue it?
David dragged out his wallet and tossed a twenty on the table. A whirlwind of a moment later, he was ushering Robin out of Mik's and into the crisp winter air outside. She zipped her jacket and, averting her eyes, anticipated the lecture to come.
He turned to her, and she looked up against her better judgment. His face was all harsh lines. Oh, yes. The lecture was coming.
“If that's the only way I will?”
There was something manic couched in his tone, but he wasn't shouting at her or suggesting a shrink. To her surprise, he seemed to want answers, so she organized her thoughts, seeking out the reasons she'd so carefully prepared.
“I've investigated every—”
“Robin,” he warned.
She stared at him, confused. What had he been asking, if not the reasons why he should consider a more intimate donation to the cause?
“Are you saying you'd prefer another option?”
———
David was already rock hard—a fact hidden by his untucked quilted flannel shirt—and he wasn't sure Robin was offering anything…or why she was.
Her mouth worked as if to form words, but nothing emerged. Just when he would have prompted her again, she found her voice.
“Yes. I am.” Robin shifted from foot to foot in a fit of nerves. But was she unsure of herself or worried about his response to the bold statement?
David looked heavenward, seeking divine guidance. Surely, the Almighty would take a dim view of David screwing his brother's—
Look who I'm talking to! There are Bible stories about this subject. It was practically expected in biblical times, when a man died without producing heirs, that his brother would step in and do it for him.
As if in confirmation, David spied the sprig of mistletoe hanging above them. How serendipitous.
“David?” The edge of tears in her voice was unmistakable.
“You want to have my baby?” He wanted to hear her say it.
“Yes.”
No. You want me to give you Zach's baby. The thought tortured him.
If I don't, someone else will. That tortured him worse.
“David?”
He tipped his head down and, closing on her lips slowly, gave Robin every opportunity to back out. She didn't.
Robin rose on tiptoe, parting her lips under his. He tasted her and moaned at the mixed flavors of red wine and willing woman.
In a few fevered seconds, her hand was buried under his flannel shirt and T-shirt, her skin hot against his. It was a dream come true, the culmination of hundreds of wet dreams and shower fantasies about Robin.
The jingling of bells went largely
unnoticed. The catcall that followed broke them apart. The interloper didn't tarry, probably fearing a knuckle sandwich to come, based on the way David's body tightened in response to the abrupt wake-up call. Silence fell again in the wake of the stranger's departure.
Robin stared at him with half-lidded, angel blue eyes, her lips deliciously kiss-swollen, her dark hair windblown and sexy. “David?”
“I need to…” Get my head examined! “I need to think…about this.” He eased his hands away from her, and she did the same. “Promise me you won't do anything without talking to me first.”
She shook her head slowly. “Not a thing.” It was low and breathless, and his cock hardened fully at the stark invitation.
“Good. Let me walk you home.”
“Sure.”
———
David sat on his sofa, glaring at the beer he'd opened and hadn't swallowed a drop of. He wanted a clear head for this internal argument. That single fact had allowed the beer to go warm, while he was no closer to an answer.
He fisted the keys for the fourth time in less than ten minutes, replaying “the plan.”
There was no denying what he wanted. It hadn't changed in the three years since he'd met her. It had only intensified in the nearly two years since Zach had died. Right or wrong, David hadn't been able to stop thinking about Robin since the first time she had smiled up at him.
While Zach had been alive, it had been easy enough to talk himself out of pursuing her. Robin had been his little brother's fiancée. No matter what David wanted, crossing family to get it hadn't been an option. If you learned one thing working the beams, you learned how important trust was, and the Carson and Carson crew was heavy in family members.
His brother's death, traumatic as it had been for the family, could have proved the reprieve David had needed. It could have, but it hadn't turned out that way. Two years later, Robin still thought of herself as Zach's.
The signs of it were everywhere: the way she clung to the house they'd shared, the way she'd cleaned out Zach's clothing but not other personal items, and now her insistence on having the baby she and Zach had planned.
