A Very Naughty MC Christmas Read online

  “You need to stop.”

  “What?” I had to give it to her. Sophie tried to keep things on a professional level, but over the past few weeks, it hadn’t been easy. We’d both shared stories and had gotten closer, and there was no denying the unexpected connection between us. She tried to pretend she didn’t feel it, worried about putting her career in jeopardy, but she had nothing to fret about. The brothers knew how to keep a secret, so I made sure to goad her every chance I got. I leaned towards her. “I’m just making idle conversation.”

  “Mm-hmm. You need to behave yourself, Mr. Hughes.” Her hazel eyes skated over me, and she let out a deep breath. Doing her best to stay professional, she cleared her throat and said, “During our last few sessions, we talked about recognizing the warning signs you experience when your anger is triggered and how acknowledging those warning signs can help you improve your response to that anger.”

  “Mm-hmm. We did.”

  “We also discussed how important it is for you to use coping strategies when you feel like the anger is getting out of control.”

  “I remember.” I studied her for a moment, then asked, “There a reason why you feel the need to give me a recap?”

  “I just want to make sure you’re ready to face the world again.” Concern marked her expression. “You know, for when you get your parole.”

  “I like your confidence, Doc, but you don’t have to worry. I’m more than ready to get outta here.”

  “So, you aren’t apprehensive about going back to your old life?”

  “What do I have to be apprehensive about?”

  “A lot can change in three years.” She clicked her pen, then dropped it down on the table. “When you get home, things won’t be exactly the way they were when you were imprisoned.”

  “Maybe not, but the club and my brothers will still be there waiting for me.” I gave her a nonchalant shrug as I leaned back in my chair. “That’s the only thing that matters to me.”

  “Your brothers seem to be a very important part of your life.”

  “That’s because they are. I wouldn’t have made it through these past few years if it hadn’t been for them.” I thought back to all the times they’d come by to see me. I’d told them not to waste their time, but they never forgot me—especially Menace. It seemed, every time the doors opened, he’d be there waiting to spend as much time as he could making sure I was doing okay and filling me in on everything that had been going on with the club. There was no way I could explain exactly what they meant to me, so I simply said, “Like I told you before, they’re my family.”

  “Yes, I remember.” She glanced down at her notepad before adding, “But they aren’t your own family. You also have a sister.”

  “I’m well aware,” I grumbled under my breath as I remembered the night Stacey had called me for help. She never intended for me to get in any trouble. She just wanted some help with her asshole boyfriend, only I ended up taking things too fucking far. For years, I didn’t hear from her. I figured she was pissed that I killed her boyfriend, but when she finally came to the prison and talked to me, I discovered it was her own guilt that had kept her away. That very guilt had pushed her to straighten up her life and get off the drugs. She’d gotten a job, a new place, and was on her way to being the person I always knew she could be. I looked back to Sophie and said, “Yeah, she’s still family.”

  “Will you try and reach out to her when you’re released?”

  “I imagine so. I don’t want to do anything to steer her off track, but if she wants to see me, then she’ll see me.”

  “That’s great. I think it would do you both some good to reconnect.”

  “Yeah, that would do me good … that and a night with you in my bed.”

  “Dalton,” she scolded. “I’ve already told you! You can’t say that sort of thing.”

  “I don’t see why not. It’s the truth.”

  “Because I’m your therapist. There are lines that can’t be crossed.”

  “Don’t see why that matters.” A rational man would know it was crazy to think a woman like Sophie—intelligent, educated, and undeniably beautiful, would ever be interested in me—a man who’d spent the past three years behind bars, but I wasn’t a rational man. Besides, I’d seen the way she looked at me and heard the inflection in her voice whenever our conversations got off track, but rational or not, I wasn’t a complete idiot. I knew nothing could ever become of us, but I didn’t see the harm in giving her a hard time. “Not like you’ll be my shrink for much longer, especially if I get out of here soon, so the way I see it, there’s no reason not to cross a few lines.”

  “Dalton.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll leave it. For now.”

  “You are quite a handful, Mr. Hughes.”

  “Oh, I’m more than a handful, baby.” I told her I’d stop fucking with her, but damn, she’d walked right into that one. When I saw the flustered look on her face, I held my hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was just fucking around.”

  “Mm-hmm.” She rolled her eyes with a huff, then glanced down at her notes. I could almost feel the tension radiating from her body as she looked back up at me and asked, “Have you thought any more about Sadie?”

  “What about her?”

  “Are you planning to go see her if you’re released?”

  Over the past few months, Sophie had done what she could to help me reflect on the choices I’d made—or at least she’d tried to. There were some that were harder to explain than others. One of those being Sadie—the girl I’d been seeing up until I got put away. There was a time when I loved Sadie. I mean, really loved her. I thought she was the one. Figured she’d become my ol’ lady, we’d have a couple of kids and grow old together. But that all changed when I got locked up. There was a look in her eye—part pity, part disgust—and I knew what we had was over. I didn’t blame her. She didn’t sign up for this bullshit, and I had no right to hold her to the promises we’d made. So, I did the only thing I could. I ended things with her and told her to move on with her life.

  I’d tried explaining to Sophie that I had no regrets about breaking things off with Sadie, but she wasn’t buying it. I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “I have no reason to see her.”

  “What?” Her brows furrowed with astonishment. “This woman meant something to you.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to try and reconnect with her? Possibly see if there’s anything left between the two of you?”

  “There’s nothing left between us, Doc. She’s moved on, and I’m good with that.” As a favor to me, Menace had been keeping an eye on Sadie and was doing what he could to make sure she was making it okay. Like Sophie, he’d pushed me to touch base with her, but after hearing she was now happily pregnant and had moved in with Colton—a plant safety manager at one of the larger paper-mills in the area, I knew I was right in persuading her to live her own life. My eyes never left Sophie’s. “Hell, I’m the one who told her to do it.”

  “But did you genuinely mean it?”

  “Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t fucking mean it.” I leaned forward, holding her gaze as I lowered my voice, “Just to be clear, there’s only one woman I wanna see when I get out of this place, and she’s the one sitting in front of me.”

  Sophie

  “I can’t believe you’re already decorating for Christmas.” Margo, my younger sister, rolled her eyes as she looked down at the box of lights and fussed, “It’s not even Thanksgiving yet.”

  “What can I say?” I plugged in my tree and smiled when all the white bulbs illuminated the room. “I’m a sucker for the holidays.”

  “People like you are the reason why Walmart starts putting Christmas crap out in September.”

  “Well then, I guess I’m not the only one who likes to decorate early.” I had always loved decorating for the holidays, but over the past few years, I’d started earlier and earlier. It seemed to give me a much-needed diversion from work. There were times when the long, taxing counseling sessions got to me, and it was nice to have something to distract me—especially tonight after hearing that Dalton had gotten his parole. I’d been trying not to think about the fact that although he was out there and within reach, he was completely and entirely off-limits. Sprucing up the place with some holiday cheer was the best way I knew to do that, so I blew off my sister’s judgments and asked, “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you had a class on Wednesday nights.”

  “I do, but I just wasn’t feeling it tonight.” She walked over and plopped down on the sofa. “And before you start in on me, I have a good reason for not going tonight.”

  I adored my little sister, but there were times when she was a bit of a flake—especially when it came to something she didn’t want to do. I glanced over my shoulder and gave her a disapproving look. “Oh? And what is that?”

  “My professor is a narcissistic asshole who thinks he knows it all.”

  “He’s the professor, Margo. He’s supposed to know it all.”

  “Yeah, but it’s more than that.” She gave me another one of her dramatic eyerolls as she explained, “This guy thinks he’s God’s gift to women and is constantly flirting with all the girls in class.”

  “Has he flirted with you?”

  “Well, yeah. All the time.” She crossed her arms with a huff. “Like I’d ever screw around with an old geezer like him.”

  “Margo, you have to report this man to the dean!”

  “He is the dean!”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep, but don’t freak out. I’m going to handle it,” she replied with confidence.

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’m gonna drop his class and take it next semester with a different professor.” Before I could interject, she raised her hand and continued, “I know it’s not the perfect answer, but it’s the only one that keeps me on track with my degree and won’t mark me as some kind of martyr.”

  “I’m really sorry you have to deal with this.”

  “Me too, but for now, it gives me a night off.” A smile crossed her face. “How about we order dinner and find a movie to watch?”

  “I would be up for that, and I’ll even pay for the pizza if you help me put the rest of the ornaments on the tree.”

  “I’ll tell ya what. I’ll pay for the pizza and keep you company while you do your whole decorating thing.”

  “Fine, but I want cheese sticks, too.”

  “You got it.”

  I continued to decorate my small apartment, only stopping long enough to eat a slice of pizza with Margo. I’d just sat down on the sofa next to her when she asked, “So, how are things going with work?”

  “Okay, I guess. I have two new clients this week and possibly two more coming in at the end of the month.”

  “I guess the holidays really do bring out the crazy in people.” I didn’t respond. Instead, I simply glared at her. When she saw the disapproving look cross my face, she quickly nudged me with her elbow. “Oh, come on, sis. I was just teasing.”

  “Mm-hmm.” I was accustomed to Margo giving me a hard time about my work, so I simply shook my head and said, “I’m just doing my part to help people deal with a tough time.”

  And just like that, thoughts of Dalton came crashing through my mind. I’d been working so hard to put him out of my head, but just the mention of my work had every thought I’d ever had about him come rushing back, making that empty feeling in my chest ache more than ever. I tried to fight it, knowing it was wrong. I was his therapist. It was my job to help Dalton move past his indiscretions, not get involved with him. My actions could cost me my job and so much more, but I missed my sessions with him.

  I missed being with him, talking with him, and most of all, I missed the way I felt when he looked at me. He had this way of making me feel things I never had before and feared I might not ever again. I was officially the world’s worst therapist. It was beyond inappropriate for me to even think this way about a client, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. Dalton Hughes was my kryptonite, but thankfully, since he was released on probation, I was no longer his therapist and could put him out of my head for good. I was still lost in my thoughts when Margo said, “There you go again.”

  “What?”

  “You looked like you were a million miles away.” Concern filled her eyes as she continued, “You’ve been like that for months. One minute you’re all happy, and then you get weird like something is bugging you. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing’s going on. I’m fine.”

  “You know you can talk to me. I tell you everything that’s happening in my life, but you never tell me anything anymore.”

  I wasn’t surprised that Margo noticed I was holding back, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t tell her that I had feelings for a man who’d been locked up for murder—a man I’d been counseling for the past three months. This conversation needed to be over. “There’s nothing to say, Margo. I’ve just been swamped at work, and it can be a little overwhelming at times.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  “I’m fine. Really. I just want to forget about things for a little while and enjoy our night.”

  “Sure thing, chicken wing.”

  I could feel Margo’s eyes on me as I leaned over and grabbed another slice of pizza. I feared she would press me to open up more, but thankfully, she let it go and turned her attention back to the TV. After we finished eating, I went back to decorating. By the time the movie was over, I had most of the tree done and had almost finished the fireplace. On her way out of my apartment, Margo looked around and smiled, “I have to admit, the tree does look pretty in here.”

  “Well, how about that! Scrooge actually likes it.”

  “Maybe so, but I still think it’s too early to decorate.” She stuck her tongue out at me, then darted out the door. “See you Sunday night!”

  Since my father’s birthday was coming up in a few days, my mother had invited Margo and me over to their place for dinner, but my mind had been focused on other things, and I’d forgotten all about it. Margo was almost to her car when I waved and said, “See you then. Be careful getting home!”

  “I’ll try.”

  I stood in my doorway and watched as she pulled out of the parking lot. Once her car disappeared into traffic, I closed and locked the door. After taking a moment to admire all the beautiful twinkling lights on my tree, I unplugged everything, then headed to my bedroom, quickly changed into my pajamas, and crawled into bed. It wasn’t long before my mind had drifted to Dalton. No surprise there. Since my earlier conversation with Margo, he seemed to be the only thing I could think about. The memories of our sessions came barreling through my mind, and I groaned as I rolled to my side and curled into my pillow.

  I’d been a counselor for about eight and a half years. In the beginning, I’d worked with families who had troubled children, married couples who faced divorce, and the local police department with assault victims who struggled to discuss the details of their attack. After years of listening to one horrific story after the next, I knew I had to make a change.

  When I was offered a job with the River’s Behavioral Management Specialists Group, I knew I’d found my answer. They were a group of counselors who focused on teaching their clients how to manage their emotions before they caused harm to others—something I’d been wanting to do for years. So, I did the only thing that made sense. I took the job and never looked back.

  Things were going exceptionally well until the day Damien, the office manager and my boss, called to tell me that I had been given a new client—Dalton Hughes, an inmate at the state correctional facility. Until then, I’d only done sessions in the office with my fellow therapists close by to help if anything went wrong. I wouldn’t have that support at the prison, so needless to say, I had my concerns. I considered asking Damien to find someone else, but when he insisted I was the right person for the job and would be highly compensated for my time and efforts, I couldn’t refuse.

  I could still remember the first time I met with Dalton.

  After making my way through security, I was a frazzled mess. I knew nothing about the man I was about to meet and was completely terrified as I made my way down the long hall to the conference room. I took out my notepad and pencil, then waited as the guard went to retrieve Dalton. Moments later, the door opened, and my breath caught in my throat when the guard appeared in the doorway escorting in a muscled-up brute of a man with fierce, menacing eyes and a cold, hard expression on his face. He was wearing an orange prison uniform, and his hands and feet were shackled in chains, making him seem even more threatening. I should’ve been alarmed by the sight, but instead, I was intrigued by this beautiful beast and couldn’t seem to take my eyes off him. His gaze drifted over me, slowly and intently, like he was sizing me up as the guard forced him into the chair in front of me.

  Once he had the prisoner secured, he looked over to me and asked, “You good?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  The guard gave me a nod, then stepped out of the room and closed the door. I could see him through the glass, but it did little to calm my racing heart. After inhaling a deep breath, I turned to Dalton and feigned a smile. “Hello, Mr. Hughes. I’m Sophie Grace, your anger management specialist.”

  “Hello, Ms. Grace.” His voice was low and seductive, sending a chill down my spine. “I gotta say. You’re not what I was expecting.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “Someone older and much less attractive.”

  I pushed my glasses a little farther up the bridge of my nose. “Oh.”

  “So, why don’t you tell me what an anger management specialist actually does?”

  “We do many things, but for you and your situation, I’ll be helping you identify the things that trigger your anger, and then I’ll help you learn how to manage that anger before you do something you might regret.”