Unwrapped Bundle with You Don't Know Jack & Bad Boys in Kilts

by Erin McCarthy

  Fortunately her gaze didn’t lower below his belt. His attraction had become obvious. His sex now tented his gray slacks, a major bulge in his boxer briefs.

  “Aidan?” His name was spoken as softly as a sigh. She curled her fingers into the fine cotton of his white longsleeve shirt and clung to him.

  He ached for her, so much so, he physically hurt. His first impulse was to draw her near, to let the years fade away and to recapture Aspen.

  Yet a part of him pulled back. He fisted his hands, forced them to his sides. He had no idea why she was in Chicago or how long she planned to stay. The blizzard would benefit him. They were snowed in for at least one day, possibly two.

  “It’s Christmas Eve, Allie,” he began. “Shouldn’t you be at a ski resort?” The words came out more sarcastic than he’d planned.

  The shadows couldn’t hide her blush. She released his shirt. “I’m spending the holiday with my sisters this year,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I work retail.”

  Her face softened. “So you once said.”

  They’d been naked when he’d told her. Her back had curved into his chest; his erection primed against her lower spine. The anticipation of taking her had tormented him until he couldn’t wait any longer. But he had. For her. They’d talked, had sex, and slept. He’d awoken alone.

  Their gazes held, yet their conversation lagged. They soon grew as quiet as the store. They stared at each other, so deep and intent, he felt her under his skin. As smooth as satin.

  In that moment, she warmed him from the inside out.

  His heat left her flushed.

  She fanned her face.

  He started to sweat.

  “I’ve a cab waiting,” she finally managed.

  He looked toward the front door. “No taxi driver would wait for a fare in this weather. The wind’s picked up and the snow’s drifted. The cab would be buried.”

  “I didn’t pay him.” He could see she felt awful. She regretted stiffing her driver.

  “You can always call the cab company and settle up after the storm,” he suggested.

  Realization hit her then. “After the storm? I’m stuck here?”

  “I’m afraid so. We’re snowbound.”

  Chapter Two

  Allie Smith hated confinement. She needed the freedom of the outdoors. Clean air filling her lungs. The crisp bite of the morning chill turning her cheeks pink. She thrived on mountaintops with fresh powder and frosty air. She was at home there.

  Here she faced a night in a department store with Aidan, and nowhere to run.

  Did she really want to escape this man? She knew the answer, even if she wouldn’t admit it. She was convinced that a conniving elf had put her in Dutton’s with the man of her dreams just to tease her. This time there was no hot tub or warm bed. She was standing in the main aisle of a dark department store. The temperature was dropping by the second.

  She openly observed him. He looked the same, only different. Tall and handsome, with five o’clock shadow that had arrived two hours early. His dark hair was cut short. His features were strong and his shoulders broad. She’d known him as a ski stud, but looking at him now, she saw a sophisticated businessman in a white shirt, burgundy and gray paisley tie, a braided leather belt, and sharply creased charcoal slacks. He looked preppie in his black tassel loafers and argyle socks. His style confused the hell out of her.

  Would the real Aidan please stand up?

  She found this new man sexy in a most disturbing way. Aristocratic came to mind. Polished and urbane. And to think he’d once been hers. She had unwrapped him on a Christmas Eve. He’d been the perfect present.

  She let out a deep sigh. What a fool she’d been to run away, to lose him as both friend and lover. Now he thought she was a thief. His look was unwelcoming. He wasn’t overjoyed to see her.

  She reached for her ski jacket, retrieved her cell phone from the inside pocket. “I need to call my sisters. They’ll be worried,” she said.

  She dialed, but no one picked up. She left a quick message. “It’s Allie, I’m in Chicago at Dutton’s—” and the connection failed.

  Aidan pulled his Blackberry from his pants pocket. He flipped it open, only to shake his head. “No bars.”

  Her shoulders sank. She tried sending a text. No go.

  Seconds later, Sam from Security approached them. He shuffled down the aisle, herding a small group of stranded shoppers.

  He looked at Allie first. “I located your check. My apology, Allie Smith, you’re cleared of any crime.”

  She let go of the breath she’d been holding. Score one for the Snow Angels, her look told Aidan. He nodded in her direction, his opaque gray eyes holding steady with hers, though he didn’t apologize for the pat down. The hint of a smile told her that he’d enjoyed touching her.

  Sam next turned to Aidan. “I also found four stragglers. No one’s happy.”

  The arrivals clustered at the jewelry counter. A tall man with spiky brown hair and a hot temper turned on Aidan. “Are you the store manager?” he demanded.

  “He’s the—” said Sam.

  “First floor supervisor,” Aidan cut Sam off. “I’m Aidan.”

  Sam’s brow creased, but he didn’t contradict his boss.

  Allie caught their exchange. Both men appeared guarded. Almost secretive. They shared a work-bond that didn’t extend to the shoppers.

  “I’m Chris Johnson,” the newcomer said. “I was caught on the sixth floor in sporting apparel when the lights went out. I’m headed to Atlanta for a charity golf tournament. My flight leaves in two hours.”

  Sam flashed the Maglite in the golfer’s face. “You’re aware there’s a blizzard?”

  “I hate snow,” Chris said. “I need to get to the airport.”

  Sam eyed Chris with suspicion. “Chris Johnson, you say? I follow golf and you look different than you do on TV.”

  Chris stared down Sam. “Television adds ten pounds.”

  “It’s not your weight,” Sam said. “Johnson is shorter and blond.”

  “Check the color on your set,” the man growled. “Damn storm. I can’t miss my flight.”

  “Sorry, but Chicago’s at a standstill,” Aidan told the golf pro, his tone friendly but firm. “This could be the worst snowstorm in history. All transportation including air travel has shut down.”

  “Not good enough.” Chris got in Aidan’s face. The golfer shoved him back a step. “I’m a celebrity athlete. You’re in charge. Do something, retail man.”

  Aidan went stiff, his jaw tight.

  Allie was surprised he kept his cool.

  Sam snagged the Taser off the jewelry counter and pressed the trigger. The guard’s hand shook as electricity sparked, crackled. “Touch Aidan again and I’ll jolt you into tomorrow,” he warned the golf pro.

  Allie bit down on her bottom lip, smiled to herself. She liked the way the guard stood up for his boss, even though Aidan was six inches taller and thirty pounds heavier than Sam.

  “No harm done.” Chris moved to the front door and pressed his palms against the frosted glass. “There has to be an emergency release.”

  Sam curled his lip. “If there was, trust me, you’d be the first to leave.”

  “The generator’s old and runs minimal electricity,” Aidan said. “We’re lucky to have the light we do now.”

  That light suddenly dimmed. The entire building shuddered as the backup machinery strained against the storm. The Maglite flickered, the batteries running low.

  Sam shone the shaft of light on all those gathered. Allie saw an elderly couple, their eyes wide, frightened, along with a younger woman with heavily lined eyes and a long sleek auburn ponytail. The redhead’s face was pinched, her lips a glossed fuchsia line.

  Allie crossed her arms, leaned against the jewelry counter, and watched as the woman approached Aidan. This could prove interesting.

  “I’m Pamela Parker.” She looked left, then right, making sure she had ever
yone’s attention. “I’m a close friend of the Dutton family.”

  Aidan’s brows pulled together, and uncertainty etched his brow. He seemed to doubt Pamela’s familiarity with the store owners, Allie thought. That intrigued her. As the floor supervisor, he couldn’t possibly know the Dutton’s every acquaintance. He didn’t travel in their social circle.

  “The Duttons won’t be pleased to hear good customers were stuck in their store on Christmas Eve,” Pamela added. “Their son will be furious when I tell him. He’s such a sweetheart.”

  “Is he?” Aidan asked, curious.

  “Yes,” Pamela stated with assurance. She spoke rather loudly, as if projecting her voice from a stage. “Alden and I have dated in the past.”

  “Alden?” Allie heard Sam cough into his hand.

  She swore Aidan forced back a smile.

  Allie wondered why he was so amused.

  Sam shot the faint beam directly in Pamela’s face. “Security attempted to get everyone out. You had plenty of warning, yet you kept trying on clothes. I found you in the fifth floor dressing room. Discarded garments were stacked to the ceiling.”

  The redhead had dressed in the dark, Allie noted. The front pearl buttons on her blue satin blouse were crooked and the collar was turned under. Yet the woman appeared confident, clutching two designer dresses with the price tags visible. Allie’s eyes widened. She could pay her rent for a month on what those gowns cost.

  Pamela lifted her chin. “I needed the perfect dress for Christmas Eve dinner and couldn’t make a decision.”

  Sam had the solution. “You could wear one for the main course and one during dessert.”

  Allie grinned. Sam spoke his mind. A person would know where they stood with the guard. She liked that, a lot.

  “We’re the Murphys,” the older man said, edging forward. “I’m Warren and this is my wife Marian. We both use canes. We were on the fourth floor in crystal and fine china when the elevators stopped. We took the stairs, but it was slow going. It’s Marian’s eightieth birthday.” He turned to his wife and smiled. “I’d promised her a Waterford vase followed by afternoon tea.”

  Warren turned to Aidan. “I’m a retired postal worker. I’ve delivered mail in rain, sleet, and heavy snow, but I’ve never seen a storm this bad. I looked out the window on the upper floor and couldn’t make out the building next door. The power company will be pulling its crew off the street so I don’t think there will be any emergency responders. Are we safe?”

  “Very much so,” Aidan assured him. “Should the generators fail, we have departments with candles and camping equipment. We’ve battery-operated blankets to keep you warm. There’s plenty of food, from tea room sandwiches to Swiss chocolates. We even have display beds with fresh linen should we be forced to spend the night. Sam and I will see to your every comfort.”

  Aidan glanced over at Allie. Her skin prickled. She had memories of just how comforting Aidan could be.

  Marian Murphy touched Aidan’s arm, a woman with a cloud of white hair and wire-rim glasses. She’d have made a perfect Mrs. Claus. “Thank you, son.”

  Allie couldn’t help admiring Aidan. He was in charge, and as accommodating as he was kind. He’d put the Murphys at ease. The older couple huddled together and held hands.

  They looked content, their hearts entwined. Allie envied them. She’d never known that special feeling with a man. She always took off before things got too serious. It was safer that way. Or so she’d always imagined.

  The group glanced her way. “I’m Allie,” she said by way of an introduction. When everyone looked at her foot, she added, “Sprained ankle.”

  Aidan met her gaze and she felt her cheeks heat. Those around them blurred, and it seemed as if they were the only two people in the vast department store. His expression was open, honest, and searching. He was too damn handsome for his own good. He made her mouth go dry. She wasn’t one for stomach flutters, but he quickened her pulse and buckled her knees. She pulled herself up straight.

  She owed him an explanation as to why she’d left Aspen. If she could roll back time, she would have stayed. She’d have fought her fear of commitment. Even though the idea scared the hell out of her.

  Hindsight was twenty-twenty. It was too late now. There were few do-overs in life.

  Overhead the generators quaked. The machinery must be ancient indeed. The wind howled, and severe gusts rattled the doors and display windows. It was unnerving.

  “No telling how bad this storm is going to get,” Aidan said. “I suggest we locate lanterns and flashlights in case we lose electricity.”

  “We need to set up a command post,” came from Sam.

  “This isn’t the military,” the golfer said, grumbling.

  “Fend for yourself then,” said Sam.

  Chris’s jaw shifted, and Aidan interceded. “Let’s all move to the third floor, to camping and furniture. We can sit and be comfortable there.”

  Sam led the way to the stairs, and Pamela and Chris scooted in behind him. The Murphys assured Aidan they could make the climb. Allie shouldered on her jacket then worked on her right winter boot. She had difficulty fitting her left one.

  She struggled for several seconds until Aidan hunkered down beside her. He ran his hands over the woolen sock. She winced, her ankle tender to his touch. “Your boot won’t fit. Your foot’s too swollen.”

  She held out her hand. “I’ll carry it then.”

  He rose, passed her the sheepskin UGG. Their fingers brushed. His skin was warm and she wanted to hold his hand. She held back, barely. Instead, she carefully slipped the Snow Angels into separate jacket pockets. She then hefted her backpack and followed the snowbound group to the emergency stairs. Aidan brought up the rear with his flashlight.

  The going was slow. She toe-tapped around the jewelry counter. Her ankle hurt like a son of a bitch. She locked her jaw and fought the pain. She was determined not to break down before Aidan.

  The stairs were especially daunting. The Murphys rounded the curve in the stairwell long before Allie attempted the climb.

  She counted the stairs, a total of thirty before the landing, a place where she could rest. She decided hopping was her best bet.

  She bit the inside of her cheek and made fifteen steps before she was out of breath. She was halfway there.

  She mentally psyched herself to continue. She was a skier in great shape. She could do this . . .

  “You’re hurting,” she heard Aidan say over her shoulder.

  “Just a little.” She grimaced, keeping her face turned away from him.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Allie. You don’t have to go it alone.”

  “I’m fine, really,” she insisted. Why did she have to keep proving she was so tough? So she wouldn’t get hurt?

  “Sorry, lady, we at Dutton’s aim to please,” Aidan said with a seriousness that surprised her. He handed her the flashlight. “We take care of our customers.”

  He swept her up before she could respond, one muscled arm beneath her legs, the other across her back. He held her tightly.

  Her whole body went limp. She welcomed his rescue. She wrapped her arms about his neck, breathed in his scent, and absorbed his strength. He was all male.

  They ascended slowly, and found the Murphys on the second floor landing. A red emergency light had dimmed to a faint pink. Darkness crowded the corners near the door. It was cold and eerie.

  “Only one more flight,” Warren said, short of breath.

  “Are the two of you okay?” Aidan asked, concerned. Allie noticed he wasn’t even breathing hard.

  “Sure,” Warren said with a wink, as if remembering earlier days when he carried his wife in his arms. “We’re catching our second wind.”

  “Let me get Allie to the third floor and I’ll come back and help you,” Aidan offered.

  “We’ll be fine,” Marian reassured him. “Warren was a fine athlete in his day. He ran track.”

  Warren tapped his cane on the marble floor. “T
hat was sixty years ago, my dear. Back then I was six feet tall and muscled. Age has a way of bending a man. Nowadays I’m lucky to make it from the kitchen to the front door for the newspaper.”

  “You’re still the strongest man I know,” his wife praised.

  Allie Smith caught the older couple’s smile; a smile as loving as an actual embrace. It was a sweet moment, but a difficult one for her to comprehend. The Murphys’ love stretched decades, whereas her own mother’s relationships were short-lived and unsatisfying. Margo had taught her daughters that men left without notice and women should always leave first. That way the heartbreak hurt less.

  Allie had never trusted a man.

  Aidan, however, gave her reason to try.

  She knew deep in her soul that the blizzard would decide her future with this man.

  Beside them now, Warren straightened his shoulders as his wife took his arm. They tackled the steps together. “See you on the third floor,” Warren called over his shoulder.

  Aidan Dutton watched the older couple move out ahead of them. He clutched Allie closer. He’d noted her struggle on the stairs and that she was in pain. Her swollen ankle gave him an excuse to touch her again. He’d been relieved she hadn’t fought him. Her cheek now pressed his shoulder and he heard her sigh.

  He felt suddenly anchored. He didn’t move, just held her close. Years ago, he’d carried Allie from the outdoor cedar tub to his bedroom at the Aspen lodge. They’d both been naked and ready for sex. They’d been incredibly hot for each other. So hot, they steamed the sheets.

  He could still picture her, lushly nude, her skin moist, lying on his bed. His body stirred with the memory. He set his back teeth. Arousal was not his friend. Yet he grew hard. He feared he wouldn’t be able to take the stairs. He’d be stuck on the second floor landing for Christmas Eve, craving this woman and stiff as a crowbar.

  He drew Allie higher against his chest. He didn’t want her to witness her effect on him. He exhaled slowly. “How’d you hurt your ankle?” he finally asked.

  She scrunched her nose. “A college guy’s harmless flirting turned into a snowmobile disaster.”