by D. A. Young
“It’s a fitting nickname for you, Papa,” Kat teased.
“I’ve always thought so where all of you are concerned,” Alexei humbly agreed.
He took Kat’s bag and walked her out the door and to her car. “I received a call from Mrs. Barnes, the proprietor of Santa’s Helper today.”
His daughter’s guilty flush confirmed everything Vivi had said and panged Alexei’s heart. “It’s quite alright. I have been overstepping boundaries for quite some time, believing it was in your best interests. That ends today. You have my word.”
“Papa—”
“Sssh.” Alexei pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. It was a gesture as old as time between them. It was the first thing he’d done when the nurse placed her in his arms. “I’ll be fine, Katya.” Glancing up at the sky, Alexei said, “Soon, it will start snowing again. Drive carefully and please call to let us know you made it safely. May I ask that you pass on a message to Holton for me?”
“Yes, of course, Papa.”
***
Their Christmas tree glowed from the large, front bay window when Kat pulled into his long driveway and before she could turn her car off, Holt emerged from the cabin. The moonlight stretching across the three acres of property he owned enabled Kat to see the full-fledged grin on Holt’s gorgeous face, and it warmed her heart.
“Darlin’, let me get you a new car, please! I could lift this with one hand,” he begged, eyeing the Fiat distrustfully.
“Cut it out! I’m getting really tired of everyone bangin’ on my baby!” Kat grabbed her black nylon overnight bag from the passenger seat and clambered from her ride.
Holt took it from her. “What’s this?”
“I’m staying.” Kat’s chin rose defiantly. “Here’s the thing. I’ve been lying to you. I hate lying and despise myself even more for trying. I’m nowhere near okay with you leaving, Holton. I’ve been suffering from anxiety and premonitions of some unknown entity. I can’t explain it because I don’t even understand its origin. It simply makes me realize how much you mean to me. FYI, this isn’t about getting more of the ‘Brammer Bum Rush’. I promise I have no ulterior motives to put us in a compromising position. All I’m asking is that you’ll let me have this uninterrupted time with you.”
The husky urgency of Kat’s words struck an answering chord within him. After she left to go home, Holt had slipped into a melancholic funk as he prepared dinner for them. They would be apart for almost a week, and the thought of knowing Kat wouldn’t be a fifteen-minute drive away fucked severely with his psyche. His mood darkened with the depressing understanding that he couldn’t stare endlessly into her pretty eyes, touch her silky skin at will, or smell Kat’s addicting fragrance, and Holt wasn’t talking about her store-bought perfume, even though that appealed to him, too. It made him antsy for her return and had him waiting at the window like a fucking golden retriever
“Guess my answer’s no then,” Holt drawled, and Kat gave a wobbly smile. He dropped her bag and reached for her and she flew into his arms. “I know, baby. First things first.”
Holt lifted her and Kat hooked her legs over his hips and wrapped them around his waist as he pressed her against the side of the car. “This needs to be done first; otherwise, I won’t survive the weekend.”
Kat pressed her smiling mouth against his. “Do your thang. A little love never hurt nobody.”
His warm mouth slanted over hers ravenously. Kat greedily welcomed the firm, insistent pressure and languid strokes of his tongue in and out of her mouth. Holt served as her due. Surrendering to the unadulterated bliss zigzagging through her body, Kat undid his man bun and sank her fingers into his hair, bunching his silken locks in her hands and letting them slip through her fingers. Heads shifted accordingly as the kisses deepened, and Kat traded her breathy moans for Holt’s raspy growls. They vibrated through her body, arrowing to her core, making her restless and needy. Nothing existed but them at this moment. Only when the snow that Alexei predicted arrived in a flurry, dancing around them, did sanity rudely intrude and they begrudgingly separated.
“Welcome home, baby.” Holt groaned, eyes glittering with love.
“Home is and always will be wherever you are.” Unable to resist, Kat bit his bottom lip and licked the sting away, tracing his lips boldly with her tongue. Holt’s hold tightened around her as their centers lined up perfectly, making them distinctly aware of the fiercely aching void they carried for each other that demanded fulfillment.
“We’re stopping,” Kat insisted weakly, her hands falling from his hair to loop around his strong neck. “We can do this. We will do this, Holton. I gave my word.”
Holt refrained from saying that he hadn’t. He stole one last kiss before bending down and picking up Kat’s bag without relinquishing his hold on her. Kat buried her face in the crook of his cold neck and pressed kisses to it as he walked to the front door. Holt was trying his hardest not to bounce around like a fucking cheerleader on a case of Red Bull. He would have unlimited access to his baby until he left. Holt was determined to make sure nothing else went awry between them.
They’d already had two incidents today. The first was having to tell her about his trip. The second incident occurred after lunch when they went to Santa’s Helper, Whiskey Row’s one-stop-shop Christmas emporium. Everything was going great as they shopped and picked out modern, classic, and whimsical ornaments in red, green, and white for the tree. Their good time swiftly deteriorated when they finally reached the register, and Holt insisted on paying, which led to a new discovery about Katerina Romankov.
***
“You don’t pay! It’s not even up for discussion, Katerina.”
“May I see you over here for a second?” She dragged Holt over to the corner of the shop, farthest away from the register and the line forming behind them.
“I do pay! I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but the business owners have given me the nickname ‘Princess Romankov’,” she hissed, mindful of the shopkeeper trying to eavesdrop.
“Listen to me, please. I know this is going to sound like an infantile rich girl problem to you but paying for things is important to me. My father and brothers refuse to let me pay for anything when we’re together. Whatever I buy here in town, the shopkeepers refund my card within twenty-four hours and use the card my father has on file or send him a check if I use cash. Two weeks ago, I asked Magnus to block my account. When my papa figured it out, he sent his men to retrieve him from his vacation AGAIN so they could have a face-to-face chat on the tarmac. I haven’t spoken to the poor guy since! Now, you’re doing the same thing.”
She tried to act like she didn’t give a damn about the moniker, but those molasses eyes betrayed her. Kat was angry and hurt but choosing to take the high road.
“Darlin’, do you really give a damn about what people think?”
“You don’t understand. Other kids had reservations about me because of my last name and my family’s history with the town. Why was I motherless? Didn’t my mama want me enough to stay? Or did history repeat itself and Papa killed my mama like…” Kat trailed off, lips pressing together, making Holt want to demand a list of names so he could rip their fucking heads off and shove them up their asses. “Needless to say, the rumors were sick.”
“I wish you had said somethin’, baby.”
“No!” she vehemently whisper-shouted, glancing toward the register to see if she’d been heard. Lowering her voice, Kat continued, “Kids can be vicious. They didn’t want to associate with me, and I wasn’t going to beg. Only Autumn and Fyodor saw it. I had to plead with him not to say anything to Papa or my brothers.”
Kat tossed her hair back proudly. “It hurt like hell, yet, I didn’t want anyone coming down to the school and making a scene and giving them more fodder, you know? Poor, little rich girl threw a tantrum, and now her daddy’s here to fight her battles. You were not aware of my situation, but I want to be as transparent as possible with you in all things, Holton. I will
not be treated like a kept woman. I can’t stress enough the importance that we’re equals, and my independence is everything to me. It’s the only way things will work between us.”
This was a major fucking deal to Kat. Holt needed to tread lightly and pick and choose his battles with her. The irony was not lost on him. Holt knew she had no idea of his monetary worth. Yes, Ivar had disinherited him and Elin, but Madeline Falk had not forgotten about her daughter. She’d left half of her wealth to Elin and the other half to be split between her sons. It was her way of apologizing to her daughter. Elin put it all in a trust fund for Holt to receive in quarterly installments at the ages of eighteen, twenty-one, twenty-five, and thirty. Holt had no use for it. He lived off his salary, letting the money accumulate interest. If Kat wanted to have a house, mansion, chateau, or castle on each continent, Holt would happily build them for her, no questions asked. All he wanted to do was love and spoil Katerina Romankov silly, and she was refusing to let him.
He took her hand and led them back up to the counter. Teeth grinding, Holt died a thousand deaths watching Kat proudly pay for their purchases. She accepted the three large bags handed to her as if they were the Nobel Peace Prize. Holt waited until she was at the door to smile pleasantly at Mrs. Barnes, the shop owner.
“Her money stays in that register and then gets deposited into your business account. Do not run Alexei Romankov’s card when I walk out that door. You are to call him and repeat what I just said to you, please.”
She patted her snow-white bun and tilted her nose haughtily at him. “Perhaps, you don’t quite understand how Ms. Katerina’s purchases are to be processed, Holton. Mr. Romankov would be extremely displeased–”
“Mrs. Barnes, from one business owner to another, I have the utmost respect for you as an upstandin’ pillar in our community. I also happen to like comin’ to this shop durin’ the holidays. It’s festive, cheery, and brings smiles to the entire town. Gives them somethin’ to look forward to all year long, yeah?”
She nodded her head so vigorously that the half-spectacles perched at the end of her nose wobbled right off and clattered on the counter. “Why thank you! I do try my best to spread the holiday magic and the miracle of baby Jesus’ birth.”
“Perhaps, you should keep that in mind.” Holt’s grin was positively uncivilized when he picked the spectacles up and offered them to her. Warily, Mrs. Barnes accepted them, clutching the glasses to her bosom.
“Because if I find out you ignored my instructions, I’ll be back and won’t think twice about burnin’ this bitch to the ground.” Holt tipped his head to her politely. “Have a nice day now, ma’am.”
Holt spied her picking up the phone in the glass door’s reflection as he took the bags from Kat and grasped them all in one hand and holding hers with his free one.
“If I can’t pay, at least permit me to carry them for you.”
***
By the time they arrived at the front door, Holt’s body was overheated, and his libido was raging. Kicking the door shut behind him, he growled, “Darlin, please stop doin’ that. I’m not made of steel, you know.”
“One part of you certainly feels like it,” Kat replied provocatively, unhooking her legs from around his waist and sliding down until her feet touched the floor.
The house was fragrant from the warm spices of the Glögg they’d made earlier that afternoon. Holt had shared his family’s recipe of the traditional Swedish drink, consisting of mulled red wine, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, and ginger. Kat particularly liked the orange slices, raisins, and almonds he’d added. Holt took her things upstairs, and Kat followed along, thinking not for the first time that she truly did think of his eighteen-hundred-square foot cabin as her home.
The ceilings were high and the decor modest, yet, everything was high-end and of the finest quality, from the natural pine hardwood floors, built-in bookcases, cabinetry and staircases with a knotty finish that he and his father had designed and varnished, to the large bay windows in every room, except his, inviting light in. Mid-century Swedish Kilim rugs in creamy beige complemented the earth tones of chocolate-brown, vibrant red, emerald, and fiery orange throughout the house, as did the Mid-century lighting in gold and white sconces, floor-length lamps, and chandeliers.
The furniture was an eclectic mix of mid-century and traditional, and the tufted-leather sectional in the living room was customized to accommodate his larger frame. Down the hallway were framed photos Kat had ordered of pictures she’d taken of him with Pip and her brothers and Ruby, D.J., and baby Jack. She was stunned to see that in his bedroom, Holt had ordered his own framed photos of her and him, but mostly of Kat, adorned his walls. Their love, reflected in every single one of them, was as breathtaking as the focal point of the room: a lone wall consisting of a floor-to-ceiling window that afforded a stunning view of the Smoky Mountain range.
Meanwhile, homemade chicken and wild rice soup was simmering on the stove while honey-buttermilk bread baked in the oven. Kat sat on the counter, cradling her small white mug of Glögg, and admired, not for the first time, how well Holt knew his way around the kitchen.
“Where did you learn how to cook?”
He flashed her a cocky grin. “My mama. Elin Brammer was determined that I wouldn’t disgrace her by bein’ a crappy husband to some well-deservin’ woman.”
Kat felt a swirl of jealousy knowing Elin’s plan was concocted with his arranged marriage to Cleo in mind. “You’re a freakin’ rockstar at it.”
As if reading her mind, Holt said, “Hardly. I’m simply glad I paid attention. Bachelors have to eat too.” He stopped stirring the soup pot to wink at her. “Luckily, I don’t have that problem anymore. My bein’ able to cook so we don’t starve to death should earn me bonus points, right?”
Holt removed the spoon and placed it on a trivet on the stove. After placing the lid back on the pot, he moved to stand between Kat’s legs and took her mug from her. Their eyes locked as he drank from it, then set it on the counter next to Kat. She ran her fingers through his beard, scratching along his jawline, knowing it was his weak spot, and giggling when his hands predictably tightened on her thighs.
“Babe, you get all the snaps, daps, and claps for simply being you and feeding me. You da bestest. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Holt kissed each freckle dusted across her nose, and Kat closed her eyes at the touch of his lips. “I honestly can’t remember a time when I didn’t have feelings for you, Katerina.”
Stunned by the revelation, Kat’s eyes flew open and she cocked her head to the side, gawking at him with disbelief. “Uh, I do! I can vividly recall being ignored thoroughly out of the blue because you decided I had cooties.”
Holt braced an arm on the cabinet behind her, his broad shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he buried his face in her curls. “Pretty sure no one thought that.”
Kat curled her legs around the back of his thighs and slid her arms under his black thermal to knead the warm, hard muscles of his back. His sharp inhale and the way his eyes dilated let Kat know he approved of her attention. “Well, I’m calling bullshit! As I had a pathetic crush on you, it was horribly painful.”
Holt stilled at her admission, and his grip on her thighs tightened. “I’m so damn glad I never knew that, love. Because I had no business thinkin’ of you in that capacity. You were younger and my best friends’ kid sister. By law and ‘Bro Code’, you were strictly off-limits.”
She could see the truth and the consequences in the array of ravaged emotions in Holt’s face, the stress of what his situation cost him, and lastly, the relief of finally getting everything out in the open. “I never knew. You showed no indications that I even existed when you switched up on me.”
Embarrassed, his laugh was a harsh, ugly sound. “That should have been the most glaringly obvious sign of them all, Kat. I’ve known you your entire life and was supposed to be a big brother to you, like Pip! Then everythin’ changed the day you showed up at the waterin’ ho
le in that peach bathin’ suit and ruined my life! That image ricocheted for days in my mind afterward. Do you have any idea of how fucked up I felt?! The years of guilt and shame, agonizin’ over feelings that refused to be diminished and forgotten?! I was convinced that I would roast in hell for all of eternity over them. I still remember your brothers teachin’ you how to ride a bike for Christ’s sake!”
“I-I-,” Kat faltered, reeling and at a loss for words, her heart bleeding for him, and Holt released a heavy, self-condemning exhale.
“Don’t, darlin’. There’s nothin’ else to say. I just wanted you to understand, once and for all, where I’m comin’ from. My redemption is knowin’ you felt somethin’ for me, too.”
Kat’s head felt like it was spinning and on the verge of exploding from his raw confessions. She vividly remembered that day at the watering hole. Recalled that in the crowd of people, Dixie Gervais trying to stick to Holt like flypaper was what she noticed even before her pissed-off brothers ambushed her. His skin, golden and rippling from outdoor activities and physical labor, incited an urge within Kat to explore every inch of flesh on display.
“That’s why honoring my virginity is important to you,” Kat surmised.
Holt rolled his shoulders, hoping to loosen some of the tension in his body. “I never dreamed of havin’ a chance with you. Everythin’ needs to come full circle and made right.”
“Holt, I’m so sorry for the havoc I caused in your life. I can’t even begin to imagine…” Kat stopped, feeling helpless and trying to find the words that weren’t hopelessly inadequate for his pain.
“The goth stage cooled some of my ardor,” he joked. “Fate has a peculiar sense of humor. We sure as fuck didn’t ask for this or intentionally pick each other, yet, here we are. Never could I have fathomed that you would ever return my feelings.”
