Alexx Andria - A Christmas Promise

by Unknown

  Stunned and alarmed, Laird gave her the space she needed, true distress in his expression at her abrupt change. Her reaction only served to make her feel even more broken. She would never be normal again. Ever. All it was was a kiss. And she turned into a shaking, sobbing mess. “I have to go,” she whispered, climbing into her car before he could stop her.

  Never normal. Broken. Forever.

  A sob ripped from her lips as she drove too fast away from Laird and the expression on his face — a realization that she was irrevocably stained and too much work.

  Why did she care what Laird thought of her? She wiped at her tears. Laird was no one in her life.

  Laird was…

  Laird was…

  A cry of frustration escaped as she pounded the steering wheel. Laird was the first man she’d felt anything for since the assault.

  And he was the worst possible candidate for someone like her.

  The worst.

  Yet…her lips still tingled from his touch and she knew that kiss would haunt her. Teasing her with a future she’d never experience.

  What a wonderful way to end the evening, she thought bitterly.

  Just wonderful.

  ***

  For the life of him, Laird couldn’t shake Lana’s stricken expression from his mind. Last night hadn’t ended well. What was he thinking? That he could just wipe away a bad experience with a few hot kisses? Everything had been sublime until she’d freaked out and run away. He shouldn’t care — it wasn’t his problem, right? But the odd thing was, he did care. He hated that she was still hurting from what happened to her. Why couldn’t he have been the one to find her instead of that asshole who’d hurt her? If he’d been the one to happen upon Lana that night, chances were life would be pretty different right now.

  “You’re quiet. Either you have a great hand or a shitty hand and either way you’re trying to psyche me out.” Vince’s twin brother, Nolan, surmised from behind his hand of cards, eyeing him intently. “But which is it?”

  “That’s the question isn’t it?” Laird drawled but his heart wasn’t in the poker game. Usually, he enjoyed poker night with the guys but tonight his mind was stuck on repeat and the movie that kept playing was really bumming him out. Laird sighed and tossed his cards, saying, “I fold,” shocking Nolan and Vince as he rose from the card table to pour himself another shot of Macallen.

  “Shit, me too,” Dillon, the oldest Buchanan brother said, tossing his hand to the green felt with annoyance. “Are you fucking with the cards? That’s the third crap hand I’ve gotten in a row.”

  “Sorry, not that talented. You were the card shark, remember?” Vince said, grinning as he looked expectantly to Nolan.

  “Fuck, I’m out,” Nolan grumbled and Vince hooted with triumph as he revealed his royal flush and then scooped up the pot. “You’re having a good night, aren’t you?”

  “Yes I am,” Vince agreed, chortling with undisguised glee at his winnings until he realized Laird was still standing over by the bar.

  “What’s blowing up your skirt?” Vince asked. “You’ve been in a funk all night.”

  “If I tell you, you might want to punch me in the face.”

  Nolan shared an amused look with Vince. “Now you’ve got me interested. Fess up. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”

  “Bring the bottle, will you,” Dillon said and Laird grabbed the bottle of Scottish whisky by the neck as he returned to the table and sat heavily in the chair. Dillon eyed Laird as he poured himself a shot, saying, “You’re a veritable ray of sunshine tonight. Must be serious. I’ve never known you to be maudlin.”

  Laird chuckled and downed the shot. “Yeah, me neither.”

  “So what is it?” Vince asked.

  “If I tell you, you might want to punch me in the face.”

  “Well, out with it,” Vince said, gesturing.

  “Something happened with Lana last night.”

  At the mention of Lana, Vince’s smile faded and he groaned. “Damn it, Laird, keep it in your goddamn pants for once. Emma is going to kill me.”

  “We didn’t fuck,” Laird cut back sharply. “We just kissed. And everything was going great until…she freaked out and bolted. I haven’t been able to reach her since. She won’t take my calls and I don’t know why I care.”

  “Let me get this straight: you spent an evening with a woman, kissed her, and then when she left upset, it’s pretty much ruined everything after that. Is that about right?” Nolan asked, a small grin threatening, which Laird found extremely irritating.

  “Yeah, that’s about right,” he grumbled. “So what’s wrong with me?”

  “I think you like her,” Nolan answered.

  “Well, stop,” Vince cut in. “Whatever you think you’re doing — stop. Emma doesn’t think you’re a good match for her sister and I’m not about to mess with the good thing I’ve got going on just so you can get laid.”

  “Not to be that guy who points out the obvious but…Lana is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. Emma can’t protect her from the world forever,” Dillon threw in with a shrug, which Vince didn’t seem to care for.

  “Yeah, well, as long as my wife thinks she needs protecting, that’s what I’m going to do,” Vince retorted before stabbing a finger at Laird. “And that means making sure you keep your hands to yourself.”

  “It’s not like that,” Laird said defensively, though, in truth, his very reaction was one that rubbed him raw. He didn’t get worked up over women. There were a dime a dozen. At any given moment, he could pick up his cell and find any number of fuck buddies down for a good time. So why was he hung up on a woman he hadn’t even slept with — nor had any prospects of sleeping with in the future? “I just want to talk to her…smooth things over.”

  “Why’d you kiss her?” Vince asked.

  Laird shot Vince a dark look. Good question. “Because she was hot and the moment seemed right. Don’t you remember what it’s like to be single and ready to mingle?”

  “Happily, yes and it’s what keeps me faithful,” Vince answered, shocking Laird. “At the risk of losing my man card…here’s the deal: before I met Emma I was one fucked up dude — not a big secret to most — but I was the only one who couldn’t see just how cracked my priorities were. Now that I have Emma…I don’t know, everything is better. Even the sex.”

  “C’mon, you’re trying to make me believe that sex with the same woman day after day isn’t getting a little stale?” Laird asked, hoping against hope that Vince agreed but luck was not on his side apparently. The bastard even wore a dopey grin. This was not Laird’s day.

  “Sex with my wife is off the charts. Even better than that time with the hot, blonde twins,” he said.

  “Bullshit,” Laird said, laughing. “They were…Jesus, that night is still in my spank bank.”

  “Oh great,” Dillon said, rolling his eyes. “Are we going to be subjected to your exploits all night? If so, let me know now so I can dip. I’m long past the point where any of that interests me and just to throw in some additional insight, Vince is correct: the right woman makes all the difference.”

  “Not that this conversation isn’t scintillating,” Nolan said, ready to move on. “But look, the first sign that you’re falling in love is usually when you realize that the woman drives you crazy. Almost to the point that you’d rather give yourself a lobotomy than suffer all the crazy thoughts that keep running through your head about her. When I caught up with Shannon after she’d hidden the fact that I’d gotten her pregnant, I thought there was no way this woman and I were compatible. For one, she was pretty rigid about some of the things that I was pretty loose about — like morality — but then I started to get to know her and once that happened…I was sunk. I don’t regret a minute spent with Shannon and my daughter. I never realized I wanted to be a family man until it happened.”

  “Whoa, whoa! Who said anything about wanting a family?” Laird asked, his hands suddenly clammy. “Jes
us, I’m the last person who should be allowed to parent a kid.”

  “Agreed.” Both Nolan and Vince sounded off and Laird scowled while Dillon laughed.

  “Okay, jokers. So why don’t you try giving me some practical advice on this Lana situation?”

  “Cut your ties,” Vince said.

  “Try getting to know her,” Nolan disagreed, shooting Vince a look. “You’re only saying that because Emma is overprotective about Lana.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Well, maybe Laird would be good for Lana.”

  “And maybe he’ll fuck up and make things worse.”

  “Hey! I’m right here,” Laird said, waving at the brothers before scowling at Vince. “And thanks for the vote of confidence, bro.”

  “Sorry. I know you,” Vince said with a shrug by way of apology. “I just can’t afford for you to be…well, you.”

  “That’s a pretty big glass house you’re standing in,” Laird growled. “Need I remind you of who you used to be before your pretty wife lopped off your balls and tucked them into her designer handbag?”

  “Haters gonna hate,” Vince said, grinning like a smug bastard. “Don’t be jealous of my happiness. It’s unattractive.”

  Laird blew out a breath of irritation and rose from the table. “You guys are no help. I’ll figure this out on my own.” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door as Vince called out after him.

  “Just stay away from Lana.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. He needed to talk to her.

  Maybe if he apologized…his guilty conscience would be appeased and he could get back to normal.

  Except, a part of him worried…he didn’t know what normal was anymore.

  -6-

  Lana curled up in her recliner, feet tucked beneath her, stuck in a terrifying spiral of depression and self-loathing that she couldn’t quite break free from. The events of the evening kept cycling through her head and each time she got to the point where she bolted like a giraffe with a poacher in hot pursuit she just wanted to sink deeper into her chair. He must think she’s a total lunatic.

  It was his fault for kissing her, she wanted to cry but she couldn’t actually cling to that excuse because a part of her had loved being in his arms — had loved the feeling of being safe and cherished — because she’d cut that part of herself off after the attack. Somehow it felt wrong to enjoy attraction or arousal now. She didn’t know how to separate what’d happened to her in the past from her battered sexuality.

  At one time she’d been adventurous, wild. And Laird had been right. There’s no way she would’ve found a way into Malvagio if she hadn’t been of the right mind to fit in. She’d never been a prude. She’d loved sex. She didn’t even mind a little light spanking now and then to spice things up but she’d never imagined that her curiosity would land her in the clutches of a psycho. How could she? Tears leaked down her face and she didn’t bother wiping them away. There were plenty more where those came from. She sniffed and buried her head in her arms, crying softly as her mind threatened to break.

  She just wanted to be normal again. If she were normal, that kiss wouldn’t have broken her. She could’ve taken control and seen where it would take them but no, she had to crumple like a marionette with its strings cut.

  A knock at her front door drew her abruptly out of her haze and she thought with a groan, it was probably Emma coming to talk to her about the evening, which she certainly didn’t want to do. But if she knew her sister she’d keep knocking until Lana let her in or worse, she’d just let herself in with the key. Unfolding herself from the chair, she made a quick pass at wiping her face yet there was no hiding the red splotches that betrayed her crying jag and reluctantly opened the front door.

  “You’re not Emma,” she said in a pained whisper as she stared at Laird standing on the other side, holding a fresh spray of flowers. “What are you doing here?”

  “May I come in?” he asked and she shook her head. “Please?”

  She swallowed, another refusal ready to drop but her feet had other plans and she stepped aside, allowing him to enter her apartment.

  The first time Laird had shown up at her apartment, he’d whisked her away on the pretense of taking her to see Emma in the hospital but he’d detoured to his place and had kept her there for two weeks. Seemed a lifetime ago now.

  She closed the door and wondered what he was thinking. Did she look horrendous? Certainly a far cry from the splendor of last night, she thought sadly. “Are those…for me?” she asked, unsure of why he would be bringing flowers.

  “Oh! Yes,” he said, as if just remembering he was holding what looked like a very expensive bouquet in his hands. He handed them over and she took them, lifting the flowers to sniff at the blooms. “I didn’t know what flowers you liked so I just bought the rarest flowers in the shop.”

  “They’re beautiful,” she murmured, going to the kitchen to fill a vase. “But why are you bringing me flowers?” To her surprise he seemed nervous. When he began to fidget, she knew something was eating at him. “Are you okay?”

  “Can we sit and talk for a minute?” he asked, surprising her.

  “If it’s about last night—“

  “Please?”

  It was that earnest plea that broke down her defenses. She’d never seen Laird so undone. He was always the cool cat with the smug smirk and the smart-ass answer for everything but this man…he seemed like a lost boy. And it was ridiculously endearing.

  He took a seat near her on the sofa and said, “Look, I don’t know how to say this because I’ve never been in this position before but I feel bad about what happened last night. I should’ve been more sensitive to your situation and what you’ve been through.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Lana said, trying hard to keep the tremble from her voice. “The kiss…it was nice.”

  Laird’s expression softened and a small smile curved his lips. “It was,” he agreed. “You have very nice lips. Very kissable.”

  Her breath caught and she blushed. Were they really having this conversation? Seemed surreal. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I appreciate the flowers but I don’t hold you responsible for what happened to me. The fact is…I’ll probably always be broken.”

  Laird fell silent as if troubled by her belief but unsure of how to respond because perhaps he agreed. Finally, he said, “I have a confession to make. When you were staying with me, I did a little reading on post-traumatic stress disorder after you told me that you suffer from panic attacks.”

  She met his gaze with open curiosity. “You did? Why?”

  “Because…I liked you. I hated the idea of you being railroaded by your situation for the rest of your life. I wanted to believe that you could heal and be whole again. I’m not going to lie…my motives weren’t altogether altruistic. What can I say? You’re a beautiful woman and beautiful women are my weakness.”

  She allowed a tiny smile. “And what did you find in your research?” she asked, curious.

  “Well, it takes time — and I’m no therapist or anything — but you had something bad happen to you and the brain wrote that information in your computer, logging it into your programming. So what you need is…new programming.”

  At that she couldn’t help but chuckle, murmuring, “I’m not a microwave oven. I think it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

  “Actually, it’s not. Before I dropped out of college, I actually was on track for my MBA in business with a bachelors in psychology. I thought that it might work in my favor to have a deeper understanding of how people tick. Might make it easer to get jobs, hire people, etc.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so educated,” she admitted, seeing him a bit differently. “Why’d you quit?”

  “Long story…well, actually not so much long as it is boring. I grew up rich, never knew a moment of want or need and when my grandmother died, I was even richer and I realized, why the hell am I kil
ling myself for a career I don’t need? I’m independently wealthy. So why work?”

  “But don’t you want something you created for yourself?”

  Laird shrugged. “Too much work. Why recreate the wheel? Besides, I was a young twenty-something kid. I didn’t want to work hard, I wanted to play hard.”

  “What did your family think of your decision? How’d they react to the news?”

  “Oh, about as well as you might expect. Dad nearly popped a vein. I lost my mom years ago and my step-mom du jour, well, she just rolled her eyes and poured herself another martini. My dad though…he lost respect for me. We had a big row, he tossed me out, and we’ve been on opposite sides of everything since then.”

  “I’m sorry, that must’ve hurt.”

  “It did,” he admitted. “But I consoled myself with things that would make a good girl like you blush.”

  She bit back a smile and admitted, “I wasn’t always such a good girl. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I put up a good front. My sister would be horrified if she knew how I was. She always had this impression of me that I was this innocent, fragile thing but I’d gotten into my share of trouble under the radar. I guess it just comes with the territory when your big sister is raising you. She was always afraid of me growing up. You were right about what you said. I wanted to get into Malvagio and I had grand plans that embarrass me now.”

  “I wish I had been the one to find you that night,” he said softly and she blinked back sudden tears. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. It never should’ve happened.”

  “It’s not your fault. I was stupid.”

  “No, you were trusting. You had every right to believe that you would be safe and you should’ve been. We failed you.”