You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology (10 page)

“Sure, Betty,” he said. “A couple of kisses won’t hurt. At any time, the parents can arrive home, or the kids can wake up. That means Bob’s hands are tied.”

“They sure don’t feel tied, Bob. Did you just undo my bra through my shirt?”

“Did I? Let me check.”

His palms slid over the soft cotton to push the loosened bra up and over her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples. “Hell, maybe I did.”

“No clothes off,” she said. “Maddie—”

“No
more
clothes off,” he promised, and burrowed under her sweater to tongue her breasts.

She arched to give him better access. “So you’re happy to get blue balls twice in a week, Bob?”

“Totally worth it.” He returned to his work.

“Bob,” she gasped. “Kisses, remember?”

“Whatever you want, Betty.” He pulled down her sweatshirt and they kissed.

Each kiss was unhurried and perfect, an end in itself. Sweet kisses that acted as a narcotic, dulling common sense, which drifted away, unmourned. Kisses that melted every bone in her body until she was sliding down the couch.

She forgot she wasn’t taking any more clothes off, and kicked off her leggings. “No clothes other than
those
,” she amended.

They got lost under the blanket—hands moving, bodies pressing, breath coming faster. She undid his fly and reached for the satiny hardness of his cock, knowing just what Bob liked, rough sure strokes. He groaned in her mouth.

She wrapped her bare legs around his jean-clad hips so he could push against her damp panties. “Just move your bounty…oh yeah, there, Bob.”

His hand moved to push her panties aside. “See,” he breathed, “I’m not removing clothes.” He eased into her, all heat and fullness, and it felt like forever since they’d joined like this.

Her head banged against the arm of the couch and he pulled her farther down. She reached between them to cup him where they joined.

Friction built, slick heat. Both mindless now, the repressed hunger of the past few days violent, insatiable. She could feel her climax building, rolling toward her.

“Mommy!”

Kayla’s eyes snapped open, the first tremor of her orgasm receding. As Jared shuddered into her, her scrambled brain identified the location of the shout—the bedroom. No small face beside the couch, thank God.

“I wanna drinka
water
!”

“Coming, baby,” she called in a voice that quivered with an awful need to laugh.

“Liar,” Jared breathed her ear. “Shit. I really was like a teenage boy, blowing his load before he satisfied his girlfriend.”

She did laugh then, rubbing her face against his stubbled jaw. “Lucky you’re a renewable resource.”

He kissed the side of her neck. “Stay there, I’ll bring something to clean up.”

“I need water.” Maddie yelled. “An’ a tissue.”

“Daddy’s coming, sweetheart.” He threw a towel from the basket of clean laundry in Kayla’s direction, and refastened his jeans.

“No, I want Mommy!”

“I’m on my way.” Kayla cleaned up as best she could, hauling on her tights while Jared fetched the water. She turned around and lifted her sweatshirt so he could refasten her bra.

“Thunderbirds are go,” he said.

“Mommy!”

“Thunderbirds are go,” she repeated. Hauling up pants seemed to be becoming a habit. Sooner—not later—they were going to get this right.

W
hile Kayla resettled
their daughter, Jared straightened the living room, unsure whether their date had been successful or not. Damn, she’d been so close. If only Maddie had waited another minute.
If only Bob had
. He chuckled, deciding to see the funny side.

Kayla was right, he was a renewable resource, and they still had the whole night ahead of them. More importantly, they were growing closer. He could feel his wife’s affection returning, and tonight it had felt within tantalizing reach.

Taking the wine glasses into the kitchen, he tipped the remnants down the sink, and flicked the switch on the kettle. If Maddie was restless, it would be easier to get up through the night without a second glass.

Admitting his geek crush on Simone had been the scariest thing he’d ever done, and that included waiting for Zander’s verdict on who had survived the weekly audition cull, delivered in front of millions of viewers.

But his courage had paid off. Yeah, he’d squirmed revealing how deep—or shallow—his egotism had gone at the time, but it wasn’t as if Kayla had been unaware of it. Their ‘first date’ at Joy Bar had made that pretty clear.

He was stirring marshmallows into the hot chocolates when Kayla came into the kitchen and settled on a stool on the other side of the counter.

“Maddie okay?”

“Now that she’s had a sympathy cuddle.”

He slid the mug over the Carrara marble. “Did you notice when you were working full time that the kids turned to me, first?” He risked another exposure. “Did it bother you?”

“Totally. I wanted to say, ‘No,
I’m
the mommy, pick me.’” She sipped her hot chocolate. “But there were advantages to being a novelty. When I walked in the door I got the wild joy, the ‘Wow, it’s you!’ That helped. When you’re always there, you get completely taken for granted.”

Never
again, he promised her silently.

She put down her mug. “You do miss some big milestones. I wasn’t there for Rocco’s first smile or Maddie’s first swimming lesson but I got his second, and Maddie loved reenacting her triumphs in the bath.” Her eyes were full of kindness.

“I miss my kids,” he admitted. “It ripped my heart out every time I left for tour. When you said in the bar that the kids are over my absence ten minutes after our Skype calls, I was hurt for a minute. Selfish huh? I should be glad they don’t miss me.”

“They
do
miss you,” she said, “but I manage it. At this age, I can distract them. Touring might not work when they’re teenagers, but it works now.”

I do not deserve this woman. If I really deserved her I would offer
—

“Daddy!”

Kayla looked at him and smiled. Lifted her palm.

“Is that a tag or a high-five?”

“Both.” They slapped palms.

“Coming, Maddie.” As he walked past, he spun Kayla’s stool around and kissed her. “Maybe we should all get an early night.”

“See you in bed.”

“Daddy!”

He continued to his daughter’s room, Meatloaf singing in his head about the anything he’d do for love, except… Then he saw Maddie and forgot everything else. She was flushed and snotty and miserable. “Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby, what do you need?”

“I’m sick.”

He helped her blow her nose. “You’ll get better soon.”

“You said if I’m sick I can sleep in your bed.”

He thought of Kayla waiting for him, of how close they were to recapturing their former intimacy. Thought of the man he was trying to be. Opened his arms. “Of course you can.”

“S
o, I guess
you’re fucked, then,” Greg said cheerfully as Jared ladled beef pot roast onto his brother-in-law’s proffered plate, two days later.

“Kids at the table,” Kayla warned.

“Oh, shit…takers. Sorry.”

Jared glanced to his left, where Rocco sat in his highchair happily chewing on a bone, then to his right where Maddie sat next to Uncle Greg, quietly eating her dinner. Except for the occasional sniffle, she was back in good spirits. Clearly. Her expression reminded him of a gleeful squirrel collecting swear nuts for winter.

Greg looked penitent until Kayla twisted to wipe gravy off Rocco’s face, then he winked at Jared with casual misogyny.

“Let me rephrase that for the
ladies
present. So, I guess you’re screwed then, buddy.” He couldn’t quite hide his glee as he piled potatoes onto his meat.

His brother-in-law loved and hated their success in equal measure. Jared picked up his knife and fork and said blandly, “Nope, I’m not following.”
You passive-aggressive fuckwit.

“Isn’t that why you’re selling this place? Because Zander Freedman’s screwed everything up?” Greg was a big guy with a big mouth, his sister’s brown eyes, and none of her intelligence. Possibly through taking too many hits in college football. “How can the band survive with your lead singer owing all that money?”

“It could take a while for the insurance company and Zander to resolve things,” Jared said vaguely. There was no way he was sharing Plan B with this guy. “Downsizing is simply a precautionary measure.”

Greg looked across the table at his sister. “Will you move home to Bridgeton if it all turns to sh—crap?

“We have no plans to,” Jared answered.
We? I don’t recall you giving her a choice
. At least the Grammy nomination eased some of the pressure. If Rage fell apart, he and a new band would have more credibility going forward.

“Mommy, when we move, where
will
we live?” With Maddie’s cold nearly gone, she’d regained her usual alertness.

“With each other, same as always.”

“You want to come home, though, don’t you, Kayla?” Greg reached past Jared for the bowl of peas. “Didn’t you tell Mom you were homesick as hell? Hated L.A.?”

Jared stopped eating. “You’re really that unhappy here?”

“No. Stop exaggerating, Greg.” She spooned peas onto her plate. “I’ve been very careful
not
to say I hated…” She seemed to realize what she was revealing, and paused. “Of course I
miss
everyone, but that’s natural when you move away from your home town. There’s always a settling in period until—”

“Jeez, some women are never happy, right, Jared?” Another wink. Jared could feel his jaw tighten. “She was never satisfied growing up either.”

“Probably because I had to fight for my share.” Kayla speared a potato from her brother’s plate. “Did you not notice I hadn’t served myself any yet?”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d be on one of those Hollywood no-carb diets. Isn’t that what everyone does here? Jared, you taking steroids, buddy? You’re looking pumped these days.”

“Nope, just gym work. You’re piling on a few pounds yourself,
buddy
.”

Greg patted his beer gut. “Yeah, but I don’t have to worry about competition like my sister does. Is that why you went on tour, Kayla, to keep an eye on him? All that pussy on offer, man, I envy you.”

“I like pussies,” Maddie commented, chewing the last of her meat. “Orange is my favorite because tigers are orange.” She brightened. “I’m going to put a kitten on my present list.”

“That’s a great idea, honey,” Kayla said tightly. “Why don’t you do that now?”

“Don’t I have to finish my vege’bles first?”

“You’re excused,” Jared answered.

She was out of her chair and running before anyone changed their mind.

The moment she was gone, Kayla glared at her brother. “Watch your potty mouth in front of my daughter.”

“Hell, Kayla, it’s not like she understood what I was talking about. Jeez, you’re so sensitive.”

“When you’re in
my
house—”

“Whoa, you better watch out, Jared.
Her
house. She might take that attitude in the divorce court.”

Kayla opened her mouth and hesitated. Jared knew what she was thinking. If she and Greg had this out—again—so close to Christmas it could make the joint family celebration awkward. Greg held grudges and would have no compunction sulking through the three days. And it was her mother’s first Christmas without Kayla’s dad.

Jared bit his tongue. She’d taken enough of the speaking-for-the-little-woman bullshit from her brother and her father Bill, God rest his soul. Kayla hadn’t been close to her dad—who’d been a milder version of his sexist son—but she was protective of her mom.

Then Greg winked at him.

He laid down his knife and fork. “Yes, Greg,
her
house,
her
food,
her
hospitality. We wouldn’t have any of this, if Kayla hadn’t supported me financially, and in every other way.”

“It’s a wife’s duty—”

“And what’s a brother’s?”

“Kayla knows I’m teasing.”

“My sisters would kick my ass if I spoke to them the way you do.”

“No offense, but that says as much about you as your sisters, Jared. I kicked your ass once or twice in elementary, myself.”

“Yeah, you’ve always been a bully. For years I’ve listened to your macho bullshit and watched Kayla smooth things over, for the sake of your mother.” Fiona was a lovely lady, but weak when it came to her son. “I’m done with it. Change your attitude or get out of her house.”

Greg threw down his napkin. “I
knew
you’d started thinking you were too good for us, Jared. You—”

“Shut up!” The baby looked up startled, and Jared laid a reassuring hand on his son’s head. “The truth,” he said in his inside voice, “is that you undermine Kayla because you’re an entitled asshole who’s threatened by strong women. I’m not having you poison my daughter’s self-esteem the way you try to poison your sister’s. Not only that, you’re ungrateful. How many times have you stayed with us when you’re in L.A. on business and boasted about pocketing the company dime?”

He put his hands over Rocco’s ears. “Bring your sister some fucking flowers, at least.”

Outraged, Greg looked at Kayla, who’d been sitting perfectly still through the exchange. “Are you hearing this?”

“Yes.” Now she blocked Rocco’s ears. “And I
would
appreciate some fucking flowers.”

Greg’s face darkened. “You’re taking his side? Fine.” He shoved his chair back and stood up. “Just don’t expect me for Christmas.”

Kayla stood, too. “Yes, you’ll come for Christmas. You’ll do it for Mom.”

He grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. “Mom won’t come either…she’ll choose me over you.”

“No, Greg, she’ll choose her grandkids.” Kayla stood. “And she’ll be unhappy doing it. Do you really want to make Mom unhappy when she’s still mourning Dad?”

“That’s emotional blackmail,” he blustered.

She led the way to the hall. “Not so much fun when it goes the other way, is it?”

As they left the room, Jared picked peas off the floor under Rocco’s high chair and kicked himself for forcing a stand-off. Maddie returned with her present list and a bunch of cat stickers from the collection in her bedside drawer.