Christmas Wish

by Wilder, Chiah

  “Christmas is coming fast, and I want my grandson at our home.”

  “Uh-huh.” Two of his fingers slipped into the young woman, and he groaned softly at how tight and firm she was.

  “Are you listening to me?” His mother’s voice raised higher, if that was even possible.

  Just shut the fuck up! “Yes. I’ve already told you I have to go.” He moved his fingers in and out of the luscious college student while his thumb circled her clit. As long as he lived, he’d never get tired of fucking a tight pussy or running his hands over a young woman’s smooth, firm body.

  “All right. Call me later. I don’t want to let that bitch you married raise my grandson. And don’t sign the divorce papers. You’re a Carlton and we don’t divorce.”

  “I have to run. Bye.” Bret threw the phone across the bed then covered the giggling twenty-year-old’s clit with his mouth.

  An hour later, he stood by the window looking out at the Boston skyline wondering where the hell Savannah was. The young woman, fully dressed now, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek while squeezing his ass.

  “I had a fun time. Call me if you’d like to hook up again.”

  “Yeah,” he said, watching the snow flurries dance over the Charles River.

  “Do you have the Coach bag you promised me?”

  Bret grabbed his wallet off the table and handed her five one-hundred dollar bills. From the corner of his eye, he saw her frowning. “What the fuck’s the matter?”

  “I sorta wanted a tote bag, so I don’t think this is enough.”

  He looked at her. “That’s all I got on me.”

  She bit the side of her lip for a few seconds then smiled seductively while she wrapped her arm around his waist. “Thank you.” She pressed her lips against his, then pulled back and stuffed the bills into her small handbag.

  Bret heard the door close behind him, and he wondered what the hell her name was. She’d told him a few times when they’d met before, but her name escaped him at that moment. It didn’t matter because he knew she’d be more than willing to hook up with him again. Maybe the next time he’d take her out for an expensive dinner at No. 9 Park in Beacon Hill. He liked her eagerness to please and her unabashed enthusiasm, and her pussy tasted sweet like cotton candy. He presumed it was whatever douche she used to make sure her mound was sparkling clean and fresh.

  For the umpteenth time, Bret called Savannah, but it just went to voicemail. “Fuck!” he yelled out, slamming his fist against the thick window. “You’re causing me a shitload of grief, bitch.” If it were up to him, he’d have signed the divorce papers the minute he received them and be done with it. Of course, he wouldn’t give her everything he had; however, he’d make sure she and the brat were comfortable, but it wasn’t up to him. His mother had made it her mission to keep butting into his damn life.

  If only Savannah hadn’t lied to him about being on the pill. She had to have known that he wasn’t fond of children and didn’t really want any, even though he might have led her to believe they’d have a family when they were dating.

  Bret closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the hotel window; the cool glass felt good against his warm skin. Images of Savannah waiting tables at Luna’s flooded his mind. She was damn beautiful. He’d been a senior at Harvard when he’d discovered Luna’s and had first seen her. She fucking knocked my socks off. All his efforts had been focused on winning her over. Savannah had been reluctant in the beginning because she came from “the other side of the tracks”—her words, not his. It was true that she was from a working-class family but Bret hadn’t given a damn about that. She was the most beautiful, funny, and genuine woman he’d ever known.

  “We were happy, baby,” he whispered, “then you took an enviable sexual relationship and threw it in the fucking garbage by getting knocked up.” Once Savannah was pregnant, he couldn’t stand how her body had changed, and then after Timmy was born, Bret found the idea of a sexually active mother disturbing. He just hadn’t been able to connect with his wife again.

  The buzzing of Bret’s phone brought him back to the moment, and he placed it against his ear.

  “Bret,” Mary said. “I’ve left you several messages.”

  He knitted his brows when he heard his mother-in-law’s voice. He wished everyone would leave him the fuck alone. “I’ve been real busy and haven’t had a chance to listen to my messages.”

  “I heard from Savannah. I spoke with her a few days ago. She said they were both fine.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She didn’t tell me, and the phone number didn’t register, so I don’t have any way of getting a hold of her.”

  “When’s she coming back?” The headlights from the traffic below looked like the glow worms he used to buy at concerts when he was a teenager.

  “I don’t think she is.” Mary’s voice quivered.

  “She can’t just disappear with my son.” Anger flared up inside him, not from any fatherly love, but from the fact that Savannah was throwing him the middle finger in a big way, and no one did that shit to him.

  “I know why Savannah left you.”

  “She told you about the affair?” The falling snow blurred the twinkling lights from the skyscrapers.

  “Yes, she did. I haven’t told Frank,” she whispered.

  Of course she hadn’t; Frank would never understand. He was loyal to a sickening fault, and if that’s what Savannah wanted, she should’ve married the plumber next door. Bret was a Carlton—the men cheated on their devoted spouses. His dad’s numerous mistresses never meant that he didn’t love his mother. Mother knew Dad would never leave her. Why the fuck would he do that for a stacked bimbo?

  “Bret?”

  “I lost you for a second. Savannah seemed to have forgotten about me once Timmy was born.”

  “I can’t believe that. You two were so much in love. I know having a child is a lot of work, but she always wanted to be a mother and have a big family.”

  “Yes … well … here we are. She’ll get tired of her little tantrum and come home, especially when the money runs out.” Bret had promptly cancelled all her cards when he found out she’d left him. No matter what you tell others, baby, we both know you love the lifestyle my money afforded you. You don’t fool me for a fucking minute.

  “Savannah said she’d call me again real soon and that she won’t be home for Christmas.” Another quiver—it was getting annoying.

  Mother’s going to be livid. Fuck you, Savannah. “Try and get her to tell you where she is. I want to bring them back home where they belong.”

  “Are you finished with the woman you were carrying on with?” Mary’s hushed voice irked him.

  “Yes. It was just a fling—it didn’t mean anything.” And it didn’t, but Savannah just didn’t understand that. You’re the one who changed the dynamics, baby, then you got mad when it backfired.

  “I’ll try and find out. Timmy needs both his parents. I can’t believe they won’t be here for Christmas.” This time a small sob filtered through the phone.

  Enough! “I have to go. We’ll keep in touch.” Bret slid the phone in his pocket then pulled on his overcoat. He was meeting some buddies for dinner before they headed over to one of the exclusive gentlemen’s clubs. One of his friends’ girlfriends was a stripper at the club. Declan was crazy mad for the stripper, and Bret and his pals thought Declan was acting the fool to jeopardize his marriage and reputation by falling in love with his plaything. That was something Bret had never done. At the end of the day, he still loved Savannah.

  Bret wrapped the cashmere scarf around his neck and walked out of the Ritz Carlton Hotel into the cold night air.

  Chapter Seven

  After five snowy, dreary days, the sun finally peeked out from behind gray clouds. Timmy was beside himself and kept begging Savannah to help him build a snowman. The only problem with that was they could barely open the doors due to the high snow drifts.

  “When can I go outside?”
Timmy whined.

  Ryder closed the iron grate, and the fire in the woodstove threw off a warm red glow as he looked over at the boy.

  “The snow would swallow you up. I got some friends that’ll be here in a day or two to dig us out.”

  “Brutus gets to go out.” Timmy’s bottom lip pushed out in a small pout.

  Ryder fought the smile that tried to form on his lips. “That’s different. He’s gotta go outside, and I made an area in the garage for him to do his business. He’s got a lot more insulation than you do. Anyway, he usually comes back in pretty quick ’cause it’s so damn cold out there.”

  “I want to go in the garage too, like Brutus.”

  Before Ryder could answer, Savannah shook her head. “Timmy stop arguing with Ryder. You’re being rude. It’s too cold out there. I know you’re antsy, honey, but he said things will be cleared soon. I wish we could go out on the front porch, but you can’t even open the front door.” She bent down and pulled out a cast-iron frying pan.

  Ryder walked over and stood behind her, reveling in the now familiar scent that was all Savannah. He inhaled deeply then brushed against her, waiting for her body to shiver like it always did when he’d “accidentally” touch her. It was sleazy on his part, but if her body didn’t react like it did, he wouldn’t be doing it. The truth was, they were both damn attracted to each other—he saw it in her eyes, in the way her skin flushed, and her shallow breathing. He wanted to yank her to him and crush his mouth on her delectable lips, but he was afraid if he kissed her once, he’d never be able to let her go. Ryder was the interlude on her journey to a new life and he didn’t want to mess that up. Besides, he didn’t want a woman full-time in his life, but he had to admit that the blonde cutie tugged at something deep inside him. Something that he hadn’t felt since Dana. Why the fuck am I thinking about that bitch? Savannah’s nothing like her.

  “Did you want something?” Savannah’s soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.

  “Yeah … there’s a lot of things I want,” he replied, his gaze locking hers. There’s that adorable pink blush coloring her face. Damn.

  She shifted in place then put the frying pan on one of the burners.

  Ryder leaned over, loving the small catch of her breath when his arm brushed against the side of one of her breasts, and grabbed the handle of the pan. “I told you I was making breakfast. Go sit down and we can talk.”

  Savannah threw him one of her megawatt smiles—the ones that were slowly chipping away at the ice encasing his heart.

  “Yes, sir.” She touched her hand to her temple in a mock salute.

  “Smartass,” he mumbled as visions of her bent over his lap while he spanked her naked, round ass filled his head.

  “Is this like the worst blizzard in Colorado history?” she asked as she slid onto one of the stools and watched him.

  “Pretty much.” He turned away and took out eggs, bacon, and a couple of potatoes from the refrigerator.

  “Mommy, Brutus is kissing my hands.”

  Ryder glanced over and smiled; Brutus had really taken to the kid. “If you want to give him a treat, the dog biscuits are in the pantry.” Watching Savannah pad over with Timmy at her heels touched him in ways he didn’t want to think about. Ever since he’d lost everything, he’d shut himself away from the world, not wanting anyone to get close to him, especially women. His parents and siblings had finally caught on that he wasn’t the same person who’d left for his last tour of duty a few years before. That man had a son who he adored, a beautiful and strong woman by his side, and a shitload of hope for the future. That man was gone, and the one who replaced him lived a solitary life caring only about meeting his basic needs. The only person he was close to was Hawk, and the last person he’d let into his life was a woman, but Savannah and her young son were wreaking all kinds of havoc on his emotions and his life. It surprised him because they’d only come into his world a short five days before.

  It must be due to the snow and that we’re housebound. Being in such close quarters messes with you. Ryder peeled the potatoes then grated them into a bowl. And she’s fucking hot. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Savannah sitting on her haunches next to Brutus and Timmy. Damn she’s got a fine ass. Timmy prattled and she laughed while running her hands over Brutus’s thick fur. She was a picture of beauty and sexy femininity, and Ryder was mesmerized.

  Then suddenly, as if sensing his gaze, Savannah craned her neck and looked him right in the eyes. A warm smile swept across her face, and he picked up a glint of desire in those sparkling blues. Oh yeah, darlin’. Timmy’s chattering grew quiet in Ryder’s ears, and everything around him seemed to slow down and fade. At that moment, the only thing that existed to him was her face and that smile. Ryder wasn’t sure how long they held each other’s gaze, but he didn’t care because he was lost in it … in her.

  “It smells funny in here.” Timmy holding his nose plummeted Ryder back to reality and he looked down at the burnt bacon.

  “Fuck!” He grabbed the handle of the skillet and moved it off the burner to avoid a grease fire. He switched on the overhead fan then stalked over to the garage door and opened it to try and clear the smoky haze. I need to stop this shit and focus. It’s like I’m some horny eighteen-year-old. Fuck.

  “What happened?” Timmy asked as Savannah tried to shush him.

  “I burned the damn bacon.” Ryder opened the fridge and took out another slab.

  “Do you need any help? I can clean the frying pan,” Savannah offered.

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “I’m good,” he snapped then felt a tinge of regret when he saw her face fall as she slinked away from him. After cutting the slices again, he placed them in another sizzling pan and refused to look or even think about the sexy woman as the rush of desire mixed with anger coursed through his body.

  By the time they were ready to sit at the table, the anger had subsided inside him, but the desire was still there, always bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to boil over whenever Savannah was near.

  “The breakfast is very good,” Savannah said while she scooped another spoonful of hash browns onto her plate. “I figured you were a good cook since you have such a well-stocked pantry and fridge.”

  Ryder grunted then picked up his coffee and took a deep gulp. “You on some sort of timeline?”

  “Yes and no,” she replied.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Timmy giggled and Savannah threw him a stern look, and he went back to shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth.

  “It means that I’d like us to reach our destination by a certain date, but that date is somewhat flexible.”

  “Where you going to?”

  She shrugged slightly. “Maybe northern California or Alaska.”

  Ryder jerked his head back. “There’re a lot of miles between those states. I’m hearing that you aren’t sure where the hell you’re going.”

  Savannah stiffened in the chair and raised her chin up. “That’s not true. I’m just trying to figure out where would be the best place to …” she lifted the glass of orange juice and brought it to her lips.

  “Escape?” Ryder pushed his empty plate away from him.

  She threw him a quick look then glanced down. “No.”

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

  An awkward silence fell between them until Timmy’s voice broke through it. “Can I play Super Mario Brothers?”

  Ryder leaned back, not taking his eyes from Savannah. She nodded too vigorously and helped her son push back his chair. Timmy sprinted away with Brutus following behind him.

  Savannah started to stand up, but he grabbed her hand, holding her in place. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to,” she whispered.

  “I’m not stupid, Savannah. There’s no way you’re dragging your kid in a second-hand trailer just for the fun of it.”

  “I’m running away,” she replied in a barely audible voice
.

  She suddenly seemed fragile and vulnerable, and as she looked up at him with those big eyes, an overwhelming urge to hold this woman in his arms and protect her rustled through him.

  He kept his hand over hers and gently squeezed it. A small gasp fell on his ears and he scanned her flushing face.

  “Do you want to tell me why?” he asked.

  “I’ve left my husband. It’s something I don’t want to go into right now.” She didn’t pull her hand away from his.

  “Okay,” he answered, tilting his head. “But since you don’t have an exact plan, and it’s gonna take a week or two to clear the back roads, you and Timmy should stay here for a while longer.” Her eyes widened at his suggestion, and he was pretty damn surprised by it as well. Where the hell did that come from? Ryder was a loner and hadn’t wanted to get close to anyone, yet he had a strong inclination to protect her from whatever it was that had her spooked enough to run in the dead of winter. And Timmy … damn he reminds me of Colt—dark hair and all.

  “If you’re sure it’s no bother, Timmy and I would like that. Maybe we can go to the charity event where you’re donating the train set. I’d love Timmy to see Santa Claus.” She ran her other hand through her hair. “Christmas is going to be very different for him this year.”

  Ryder had expected her to balk at his suggestion, at least just a little bit, so it amazed him when she’d agreed so readily.

  “Once the roads are cleared, I’d like to go into town and get some gifts for Timmy.”

  “I can take you, but it won’t be for a few more days at least. Timmy can hang at Hawk’s house. He’s got a boy who’s a year younger than Timmy.”

  “I’m not sure about that. I don’t like him going to anyone’s house if I don’t know them. Maybe you can grab a bite to eat with him while I shop.”

  “You’ll meet Hawk soon enough. He’s cool. He’s VP of the Insurgents. His old lady’s a lawyer, and she comes from a rich-as-hell family here in Pinewood Springs.”