Hunk for the Holidays (26 page)

“What? Are you a Communist?” a man who sat two stools over asked with a smile. He was seated a couple stools from the only woman in the bar. A redhead with well-displayed cleavage.

“That’s bullshit,” a man at the end of the bar chimed in. “Just because we live in Colorado, home to the famous beer made from Rocky Mountain spring water, doesn’t mean everyone has to drink it. Personally, I think it’s shit.” He burped loudly before he continued. “I mean, who wants to drink beer made from water that a bear probably pissed in?”

The smiling man looked down at his glass. “Could you bring me something else, Joe?”

Joe the bartender laughed as he set a dark beer down in front of James. “That’s four fifty. Unless you want something else. The kitchen’s closed, but we have cold sandwiches.”

“I’m good,” James said as he pulled out his wallet to pay. Joe took the money and was handing him back his change when Steve came in the door. Spying James, he walked over and sat down, uncaring that he tracked snow across the wood floor.

“Man, it’s a bitch out there.” He took off his ski coat and flipped it over the stool next to him before he thumped
James on the back. “Glad you could make it. I was worried you’d have other plans.”

“No,” James said, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’d had plans. Plans to spend the day, and hopefully the night, with a woman whose kisses he couldn’t seem to wipe out of his brain. Now he had no plans. No plans at all.

“Chivas on the rocks,” Steve said to the bartender, then leaned in closer to James. “This is a dump, isn’t it? The app on my phone was way off on their four-star rating.” He shrugged. “But what can you expect on Christmas Eve? I hate the friggin’ holiday. There’s never a good bar or restaurant open and my chef always expects the day off.”

He went to pay for his drink, but James beat him to it. Without even a nod of thank-you, he continued. “I swear its entire purpose is to get single men married off. It seems every event is wrapped around couples and family. Which is why I used you as an excuse not to go to my aunt’s. She always tries to fix me up with her friend’s divorced daughters. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve seen too many of my buddies hung out to dry after getting divorced. Even with a prenup.”

Damn straight, James thought. Here was a man after his own heart. He was successful and intelligent enough to stay away from the marriage trap and all it brought with it. Like conniving females and overbearing fathers.

Steve took a deep drink of his whiskey. “Now, New Year’s Eve, that’s a holiday. A night where most women are just looking to get laid.”

As if on cue, the redhead leaned over the bar, displaying her cleavage to James and Steve. “Excuse me, Joe, but
could I get another cherry?” She flashed a smile over at them. “I seem to have misplaced mine.”

“Maybe this bar wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” Steve said. He waited for the bartender to toss a couple more cherries in the woman’s drink before he motioned him over. “Give her another one of whatever she’s drinking on me.” He winked at James. “Who knows, she might have a friend she could call.” He took a sip of his drink. “Speaking of that, me and a couple of my buddies are headed to Vegas to celebrate New Year’s. Why don’t you come with us? Since you used to live there, you’ll know all the great places to party.”

James did know all the great places to party. But partying had gotten old, which was one of the reasons he’d moved to Denver. If tonight was any indication, he was partied out. All he wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass,” he said. “I’m pretty swamped with work.”

Steve pulled his gaze away from the woman and smiled. Until that moment, James had never realized how sly Steve’s smile was. “And you’re about to get more swamped.” He toasted him with his glass. “Congratulations, you’re the new contractor for Slumber Suites.”

James had known it was coming. What he couldn’t figure out was his reaction to the news. Instead of being thrilled, he just felt numb. And he knew exactly who to blame for his lack of enthusiasm.

“Hey, how many of those have you had?” Steve asked as he pointed at James’s beer. “I’m giving you a multimillion-dollar contract and all you can do is sit there and look at me?”

James pulled his head out of his ass and plastered on a smile. “Sorry, Steve. I guess I’m a little stunned. You told me you were happy with M & M, so I didn’t see this coming.”

He shrugged. “I was happy with M & M, but it was time for a change.” He slapped James on the back. “And you were the man who showed the most interest.”

The bartender handed the redhead her drink and nodded at Steve. The woman flashed a smile and waggled her fingers. “Thanks a bunch.”

“My pleasure,” Steve said before turning back to James. “Besides, I don’t exactly care for Big Al McPherson. The man is too full of himself.”

James nodded. “I know what you mean. He had the gall to try and buy me out.”

“No shit?” Steve said. “Well, I can’t say as I blame him. I’ve bought out my fair share of smaller hotel chains. But only the ones I take as a threat. And I would say that the McPhersons consider you a big threat. Your name was the first name that popped out of Cassie’s mouth when she stopped by today.”

James choked on the swallow of beer he’d just taken. It took a couple hard whacks on the back from Steve before he could catch his breath. “Cassandra stopped by today?”

One of Steve’s eyebrows lifted. “Cassandra? Is there something you’re not telling me, buddy? She seemed to be pretty familiar with you as well.”

James ignored the question. “What was she doing at your house?”

“I had assumed she’d come by to sweeten the deal.”
Steve’s gaze followed the redhead as she got up from the bar and walked to the bathroom. “And I must say I was looking forward to getting into those snug jeans of hers. Unfortunately, it turns out she’s an ice bitch just like I’d heard. A little slap and tickle was all I got.”

There was a moment when everything seemed to freeze. The bartender cleaning off the bar. The woman smiling at Steve on her way to the bathroom. Steve lifting his glass for another drink. The football games on the televisions. Everything froze except the wall of rage that welled up inside of James.

One minute he was sitting there enjoying a drink, and the next his fist was connecting with Steve’s face. The punch sent Steve reeling off the barstool and landing hard on the floor. James got up and stood over him.

“If you ever touch Cassandra again, I’ll take your fuckin’ head off. Do you understand me?”

“Hey.” Joe the bartender came over. “Take it outside.”

Steve held a hand over his eye and glared at James. “I hope you know that you just fucked yourself, Sutton. All over a frigid tomboy who wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

Since it was pretty much the truth, all James could do was toss down money for the tip and walk out the door.

The snow had stopped falling by the time James got home. He pulled into his garage, barely glancing at the menorah-shaped luminarias that flickered on his front lawn. Obviously, his next-door neighbor had been right. A little snow wouldn’t stop the crazy cat woman’s plans to make the block festive. Of course, he had no business
calling other people crazy. Crazy was a man who had just lost a multimillion-dollar contract over a woman who thought he was nothing more than a one-night stand.

He shoved open the door of the Land Rover so hard it hit the wall of the garage and ricocheted back. One-night stand. The woman didn’t know crap. He’d had plenty of one-night stands and not one of them was anything like what he’d experienced with Cassandra. One-night stands didn’t last for two of the best days of your life. They didn’t make you feel like you were the luckiest man on earth. And they sure as hell didn’t make you this pissed off when they were over.

James got out and slammed the door. A
meow
had him glancing down. The mangy gray cat sat at his feet, looking up at him with his one green eye. James pretty much hated green at the moment.

“What do you want?”

The cat meowed and rubbed up against James’s legs.

“Oh, no,” he said. “I don’t do cats.” He picked up the matted ball of fur and carried him to the open door of the garage. “Go hang out with your crazy owner.” He set the cat down in a tire track of his Land Rover and turned to go inside.

The damned cat followed him.

James tried it two more times—putting the cat farther and farther down the driveway—but before he could run back and close down the garage, the stubborn cat would end up right behind him. He finally had to push the button for the garage door, then wait for it to almost close before he shoved the cat underneath it.

He had second thoughts about getting rid of the cat
the moment he stepped into his dark, silent house. A house that suddenly felt cold and empty. He tried to shake the feeling off by making himself something to eat. But his cupboards were almost as bare as his soul, and he ended up grabbing a vitamin water and heading to his desk in the dining room to see if he could get some work done.

It proved to be impossible. Cassandra appeared in every account he looked over, her green eyes mocking, her smile devastatingly beautiful. Unable to take a moment more of his solitude, he reached for his cell phone and scrolled through the numbers until he found his dad’s. He punched the button, probably harder than he should have, but better a button than a wall. His stepbrother answered.

James cleared his throat. “Hey, Robby. It’s James.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. The poor kid probably didn’t remember who he was. He really needed to take a trip home.

“Hey, James. How’s it goin’?” he said.

James smiled. “Pretty good. How’s school?”

“Boring.”

“Not all, I hope. I’m sure there are a few girls that aren’t too boring.”

Robby laughed. “A few.”

“Good, always keep a spare. That’s my motto.” He frowned. At least, it had been his motto until a few days ago. “So, is Dad around?”

“Yeah, he’s right here.” There were muted noises; then his father spoke.

“James?”

“Hi, Dad.” Weird, but just hearing his father’s voice gave him the sudden urge to start sobbing like he had when they sent him to camp.

“You usually call tomorrow,” his dad said. “Is everything okay, son?”

James swallowed and reminded himself that he wasn’t eleven and covered with mosquito bites. Although his heart felt as if someone had taken a bite out of it. “Sure, I’m fine. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“We’re all fine here. Marge has the entire house looking like the Walmart Christmas section exploded in it. The only space without some Santa or baby Jesus is my garage and Robby’s room. And both of us had to fight for that much space.”

James tried to laugh, but it came out just forced enough to alert his father.

“Jimmy? You sure there’s nothing wrong?”

James pressed on the bridge of his nose. “No, there’s nothing wrong. I was just thinking that maybe next year I’d come up for the holidays.”

“Really, son?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m my own boss. So why not?”

His father pulled the phone away from his mouth. “Hey, Margie! James thinks he might come up for Christmas next year!” There was some excited, muffled talking; then his stepmom got on the phone.

“Oh, James, that would be just wonderful. I know how busy you’ve been, but your father has missed you so much.” His father grumbled something in the background, but Marge ignored him. “And I think you should take some time off in the summer as well. Your father
told me how much you loved fishing together. You could come in June for Robby’s graduation and then head up to the lake. You might even want to stop by and see some of your old friends.” She rambled on. “Of course, if there is someone you’d like to bring with you, she’s more than welcome.”

“No one,” he snapped; then softened his voice. “I’ll probably just come by myself, Marge. But thanks for the offer.”

“Of course, James. This is your home too. By the by, did you get your Christmas box?”

James glanced guiltily over at the big box that sat in the corner of the room still unopened and kicked himself for not mentioning it sooner. “Yeah, I got it. The baked goods were delicious.” God, he hoped she had sent baked goods.

“I’m glad you liked the peanut brittle. It was the only thing I thought would ship well.” She paused, then yelled, “Robby, don’t you dare touch that package. Listen, I better go before your brother breaks something. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Then the phone was handed back to his father.

“Now, son, you don’t need to worry about coming here this summer and fishing with your old man if you’re too busy. That’s just Margie gabbing. I understand how hard it must be to run your own business. And, well… I’ve always been real proud of you.”

James squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his head back. “Look, Dad, I’m sorry about not coming back to see you more often. It’s just…” He struggled to find the words that would explain how hard it was for him to be in the
same house where his mother had lived and laughed and loved. Luckily, his father didn’t make him find the words.

“I know, Jimmy.” He paused. “Sometimes I think it’s been harder for you. I mean, I had Margie and Robby to help me through. You didn’t have anyone.”

“I didn’t want anyone, Dad.”

“That might have been your mistake, son.”

James sat there for a moment, too stunned to reply.

“I love you, Jimmy,” his father said.

It took a second for James to find his voice. “I love you too, Dad. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” The connection was broken.

James remained there with the phone pressed to his ear for a few moments before he finally put it down. His father’s words had nailed the coffin of his depression shut with a final bang. His father was right. He had chosen loneliness over companionship. A loveless life over a love-filled life. Work over pleasure. All because he had tried to run from the pain he’d felt after his mother died.

Somewhere along the way, he had convinced himself that if he worked hard enough and long enough he would never again have to deal with the loss of a loved one. All he would have to deal with were business transactions and money. Except business and money didn’t keep you warm on a cold winter night. In fact, it couldn’t even hold off the pain of losing someone, because eventually it catches up to you.