Holiday Intercepted

by Katana Collins

  I cleared my throat and lifted my gaze to Kyra’s bright, brown eyes. “There,” I said, lifting my brows. “You happy?”

  Kyra sighed, shaking her head. “Taylor Wilson. You’re an idiot. Even the fact that it took you until the end of high school to pay her any attention is beyond me. She was literally always sitting in front of you or next to you in every class. Williams and Wilson,” she said, adding our last names into the conversation.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, lowering my voice. I didn’t think anyone could hear us, but I definitely didn’t want this shit spreading around town. “She was Scott’s sister. And then Tiffany and I started dating freshman year and I…I only had eyes for her. Until... well, you know the rest.”

  “Til she banged every guy on the football team.”

  I nodded. “Don’t forget the mascot.”

  Kyra huffed a laugh and shook her head. “Sure, sure. Can’t forget Mitch Donalds. And of course I know the rest. Everyone at school knew the rest of the story. Because you were the football star, you didn’t get expelled when you beat the shit out of Sam Sullivan. You got detention for the rest of the school year, which eventually was shifted to time served in the school musical.”

  I was entitled. And privileged. I knew that. And I was fucking lucky the school understood why I lost control. Getting expelled or even a prolonged suspension could have cost me my scholarship and in turn, I may have never been scouted for the Patriots. That one event could have completely derailed my life.

  Kyra blew out a breath and grabbed a glass of wine the bartender handed her. Leaning in, she whispered, “So, if you know she’s awesome—and it’s pretty clear you do from the way you’ve been staring at her all night—what’s holding you back from going for it?”

  I chugged the rest of my drink and fuck, it burned going down. The buzz flowed through my body, making my fingers and toes feel numb. “A million things,” I slurred, hating that I was to that point where the alcohol was catching up to me. I pushed the empty glass away, shaking my head when the bartender offered me another. Paige was right. It was time to slow down. “I live in Boston, she lives here.”

  Kyra rolled her eyes. “Here is only an hour from Boston. You could commute. Or you two could live somewhere between the two towns. Or…” she faded off.

  “Or?” I prodded, narrowing my eyes.

  Kyra sighed. “Or maybe she would move to Boston.” Her brows dipped in what looked like momentary sorrow. “I’d hate to see her leave. But maybe it’s the push she needs to finally pursue acting as a career instead of teaching. She has talked about auditioning down in Boston for years, but every time, she comes up with some excuse. Either her students need her here, or she gets a rental at her cottage—”

  “I didn’t know she still wanted to act.”

  “She does. She doesn’t admit it much, if ever. Not to anyone. Hell, I don’t think she even admits it to herself.” I swallowed and the idea sunk in that she might be willing to move to Boston. Did that change anything? The spiral of energy swirling in my chest told me it did. “So anyway,” Kyra continued, “what’s the next reason? Cause that one was stupid. And I swear to God if you say—”

  “Scott,” I blurted out. “It’s Scott. How the hell can I be with the sister of my half-brother?” I hissed a sigh. It sounded gross. She and I weren’t related. Not even a little. But my dad fucked her mom; he cheated on my mom and got Paige’s mom pregnant when I was less than a year old.

  “She’s not your sister, you nincompoop.”

  I was taken aback by that. I hadn’t heard that insult since fifth grade. “Seriously? Nincompoop?”

  “Seriously? Using your dad’s affair from twenty-nine years ago as an excuse not to be with an amazing woman?”

  “It’s not just that,” I shook my head. “Scott knew. He knew we were brothers for years and never said anything. How could he do that? How could he lie about that to my face for that long—”

  “Because,” Scott’s voice behind me made my spine turn into cement. “I had hoped your dad wasn’t still having affairs. And I didn’t want to be the one to break up your family.”

  I closed my eyes. Scott, Cam, Steve, and I had been inseparable almost our whole lives. And as much as I hated to admit it, I missed Scott. I missed them all. “Go away,” I hissed. “I made a promise that I wouldn’t start any drama at Cam’s party as long as you stayed away from me.”

  Scott shook his head. “I tried. But this is ridiculous, Taylor. We’re brothers. You feel alone in this world, but you don’t have to. Let me be your brother—”

  “Be my brother? You couldn’t even be my friend, Scott!” I slammed the empty whiskey glass onto the counter and looked around as the entire dining table turned to look in our direction. “Fuck,” I muttered, running my hands through my hair then clamped them to my hips. “My senior year, I lost my mom to cancer. I lost Tiffany to my dad of all people. I damn near lost my scholarship. And I lost my best friend.”

  Scott shook his head and his eyes filled with moisture. “You always saw it that way. That you lost a friend… but really, you could have gained a brother, if you had let yourself.”

  “It was a lot to digest,” I sneered. I hated that this still had so much power over me. That Scott’s lies still affected me so much. “Maybe we’ll get there someday, but I don’t see that happening any time soon.”

  Scott tossed his hands into the air and they fell to his sides with a loud clap. “Fine. You won’t see me the rest of the weekend. I’m not going on the ski trip and I’ll skip the tree lighting. Hell, I’m not even coming to work tomorrow anyway, so the inn is your territory this weekend.”

  “Wait,” I snapped. “You work here?”

  Scott paused for what felt like an eternity, spinning to face me. “I own the place,” he said.

  I stumbled back, shaking my head. “Is that why they comped my room? It was actually you doing that?”

  He shrugged. “I was trying to make amends in any way I could. And since you didn’t want to talk or see me—”

  I closed my eyes briefly, hating that we were stealing focus from Cam and Lydia’s big day. “We can’t do this here,” I whispered. “Not tonight.”

  I tried to walk past him, but Scott moved in my way, blocking me. “Then when? Because if not now, it’ll never happen. You know it and I sure as hell know it, too.”

  I sighed, wishing I could completely numb the pain so I didn’t have to think, or feel any of these old wounds rip open. The whiskey wasn’t doing its damn job. I backed away from Scott, from the bar, from the party. “I can’t stay here tonight,” I said. “Scott… I know that what my dad and your mom did isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for my dad’s indiscretions. I don’t hate you, even though I know it seems like I do. It’s just too painful. I’ll never understand how someone who claimed to be my friend since childhood could lie to me for years.”

  Scott sighed and as I turned to walk away, Paige was standing there in front of me. Her ice blue eyes were tilted in concern and she stood in front of closed doors, blocking us off from the dining room. I froze and watched as her breath hitched her chest higher.

  From behind me, Scott said, “Well, I’ll never understand how someone could leave town and abandon his best friends for twelve years. Forget about me. You disappeared on Cam and Steve. We’ve all screwed up… just don’t stand there and think you’re blameless in all this.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing all the ways I fucked up in the last twelve years. “I know I’m not blameless,” I whispered.

  7

  Paige

  I knew something bad was going to go down the moment I saw Scott stand up from the opposite end of the dining room and cross toward the bar following Taylor. I jumped up, too, my attempt to intercept him, but he simply took me by the shoulders and said, “If not now, when? Another twelve years when he finally comes home again? I have to try.”

  “But here?” I hissed. “At Cam and Lyd
ia’s engagement party?”

  He glanced at Cam who gave him a small nod. “Who do you think told me to go try?”

  He walked passed me to the bar where Kyra and Taylor were talking.

  Their voices grew loud immediately, and I watched as the dining room grew silent, their eyes shifting to the bar. That’s when I sprang into action, grabbing some of the caterers and soliciting their help in closing off the doors that lead into the dining room. I could at least mute the sound and hopefully save the party. Thankfully, it was winding down.

  Taylor stormed past me and flung open the door, stomping up the stairs toward his room. I gnashed my teeth together and asked my brother, “Which room is he in?”

  Scott sighed, “He’s in the library suite.”

  I turned and went after Taylor, taking the steps two at a time. I made it to his door only moments after him, it seemed, because it was still left ajar. I gave a light knock and pushed it open. “Taylor?”

  Poking my head in, I found him, throwing items into his duffel bag. He had tugged his tie loose and his dress shirt was completely unbuttoned as though he’d planned to tear it from his body.

  “Go away,” he grumbled. I ignored him, and slipped in the room anyway, shutting the door behind me. “You can save it,” he said. “I’m not fucking staying here.”

  I swallowed, my gaze trailing out the window where the snow was coming down in heavy gusts of wind. “I get it,” I said. “I hate being lied to, too. But where are you going to go?” I pointed to the window. “Even if you weren’t drunk and could soberly drive home, you shouldn’t be on the road tonight.” Somehow, those two to four inches they’d predicted was now a blizzard warning and we were estimated to get twelve to sixteen inches by the morning.

  “I’m not stupid,” he said and tossed his phone at me. “I found an Airbnb right next door.”

  I glanced down and immediately jerked my gaze back to him. No. Did he know? Did he realize that he had just booked my Airbnb? Based on his clueless expression and the way he continued to pack, unflinching, I was going to guess he had no idea.

  My eyes traveled over his shoulders as he tugged his arms free of the shirt and stuffed it into his bag, not bothering to fold it first. The sinews of his arms were tensed, and a vein ran down the length of his bicep and forearm, making my mouth water.

  He turned, a blue cashmere sweater in hand and caught me staring at his muscled chest. A smile curved on his mouth and he tilted his head. “A picture will last longer. I can get you a signed headshot.”

  That snarky son of a bitch. “Says the guy that couldn’t stop watching me all night.” I threw back at him. “Yeah, Taylor Wilson. You’re not as smooth as you think you are.”

  He laughed and threw his head back. “Three Super Bowl rings say differently.” He zipped his duffel bag closed and shrugged the t-shirt overhead, his abs flexing in such a perfect way that I had no doubt, he did it purposefully just to show off.

  I took a step closer, my lungs burning with each heavy, ragged breath. I was like a magnet being drawn to him. Just like in high school, our chemistry was thick and potent and almost impossible to resist. I licked my lips, standing so close to him that I could see the way his jaw clenched. I shivered as he lifted his hand and brushed the backs of his knuckles down my bare arm. “The only ring that should matter to you tonight is my NuvaRing,” I whispered.

  His eyes went immediately wide. Oh my god. Sometimes I even surprise myself with the crap that comes out of my mouth. I thought it would be funny. Maybe sexy. But it just sounded… crazy. I sounded crazy. This is what I get for acting spontaneous. It never worked out for me. I resisted the urge to bury my face in my hands, but I was also pretty damn sure my pink cheeks were giving me away.

  His smile twitched. “Paige Williams… are you hitting on me?”

  Wasn’t it obvious? And I liked it… up until that whole stupid NuvaRing comment. I cleared my throat. “Well, I was trying to. Note to self: Talking about birth control isn’t foreplay.”

  He laughed loudly at that, tossing his head back and his hands landed on my hips. “Oh, I don’t know. I like knowing that a woman is being safe.” His smile dropped, his lips drawing into a thin line. “I also like when a woman makes it obvious she wants this as much as I do.” He swallowed and my gaze followed the thick movement of his throat. He leaned down, and I shivered as his lips came dangerously close to mine. “I liked it back in high school when you kissed me, too,” he whispered.

  I liked him. I hadn’t let myself be with someone in way too long. I felt tiny standing so close to him which was rare for me since I was almost 5’10”. His hot breath smelled like whiskey and mint, as though he’d just brushed his teeth. Sliding my palm up his arm, I scraped my nails gently against his flesh, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin beneath my fingertips. Then, pushing onto my toes, I whispered in his ear, intentionally letting my lips brush his skin, “Is that three Super Bowl rings in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

  His chuckle was low and soft. “If I was only the size of three Super Bowl rings, we’d have a problem.”

  I stepped back, grinning. “Come on Wilson.” I jerked my head toward the door.

  He lifted a brow. “Come on where?”

  “Your Airbnb, of course. I know that unit, and I can take you there.”

  His bright blue eyes narrowed at me, then he tugged my hand, pulling me flush against his body. His fingers curved around my jaw and teased my flesh in small, gentle circles. “Are you planning on acting on your flirtations, Paige?” His breath was heavy and my pulse slammed against my throat at our close proximity. He had to be able to hear the thundering pulse of my heart.

  I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

  He nodded, his eyes examining my face, searching for an answer that I didn’t quite know yet myself. “Do you want me to act on mine?” he asked, his voice growing quieter and more intense.

  God, yes. Silence ticked between us. I licked my lips and nodded. Just one quick jerk of my head.

  He barely let me nod before he tangled his fingers into my hair and tugged my lips up to meet his. His tongue slanted into my mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was raw, hungry passion that promised a wild, sweaty night to come. I sank deeper into the kiss, moaning as he backed me against the wall, my back slamming into it as he bent, gripping the backs of my thighs and hoisting me onto his hips like I weighed no more than a feather. I dove my fingers into his wavy, tussled hair and tugged, wrapping the silky strands around my fingers.

  He tore his mouth away from mine, each of us panting, breathless and locked into a frozen moment together.

  Taylor’s eyes darkened, dilating, and they were trained onto me. His jaw tightened, his mouth settling into a hard, thin line. “What about Dave?” he asked, his voice grim. “I don’t want to mess something up—”

  I shook my head. Coach Bolton was sweet. And handsome. And he will make some woman so very happy… but that woman wasn’t me. The whole night, I was pulling teeth to find topics to chat about. And if I was being honest, I found myself wishing I could have spent more time talking with Taylor. But of course, I didn’t say all that. Instead, I just answered, “Dave and I are just friends.”

  “Does he know that?”

  “After tonight, it was pretty obvious.”

  His breathing grew heavier and I could see it, hear it, feel it against my body. It was like a feather stroking along my already heightened nerve endings and I shivered, feeling the potency of our urgency and need down to my very bones.

  “Come back to my Airbnb with me,” he said. “Spend the night with me.”

  I blinked, a grin overtaking my mouth because he didn’t realize yet how funny that was. “Yes,” I answered him. I could honestly say without a doubt that I would be spending the night at his—or my—Airbnb.

  8

  Paige

  Our feet crunched beneath the snow-covered lawn and in the blue
moonlight. Wisps of snow fell to his ridiculously long eyelashes. I mean, seriously. What man had eyelashes that long and luxurious? He hoisted his duffle bag higher on his shoulder and grunted as a gust of wind whipped the snow around our faces.

  I gasped and put my arm up to shield my face against the blizzard-like winds. Taylor stepped in front of me, gently wrapping an arm around my waist to block the wind. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he said, tilting his chin to the inn, now behind us.

  His hands gripped my waist tighter as another gust of wind blew against our bodies. “It’s not much further,” I said, pointing ahead to my cottage at the edge of the lake.

  His ice cold hand found mine and clutched it. Turning around to face the snow whipping our faces, he said with determination, “Alright. Let’s just get there fast, then.”

  I dipped my face behind his broad shoulders and let him guide us through the snow, even though I’d made this trip more times than I could count from the inn to my house: in snow, in rain, in just about every weather condition you could imagine. But it was kind of nice to have someone here with me this time. Someone to keep me warm, block the wind, and hold my hand.

  “Jesus,” he grunted. “So much for that couple of inches they predicted, huh?”

  Already, the snow was up beyond the calves of my boots. If I had to guess, we’d already gotten six inches in only a couple hours.

  We made it to the front door of my house beneath the shelter of the porch, I tossed my hood off as Taylor did the same, pulling his phone out and checking it. “I think the listing said I’m supposed to go around to the side entrance.”

  “Normally, you would, but not tonight,” I said, smiling.

  “Why not tonight?”

  I put in the code to my electronic lock and heard the deadbolt crank open. “Because this is my house. My Airbnb.”