Christmas Treats - A Collection of Holiday Rom-coms Read online

“After dinner, love.” She placed her finger over my lips, and I play bit it. Even after all this time, my girl was shy in the bedroom and with PDA even in the privacy of our home. I’d push her for an explanation, but since she made dinner and looked eager to serve it, I didn’t want to mess with her plans.

  I helped Remi set the table and placed Ethan in his seat, then snapped in his tray. I sat down and waited for Remi to join us, giving Ethan small pieces of beef and broccoli cut up. She was the best mother in the world to me, and I loved watching her with our son. For someone who was young and claimed she didn’t know much, she picked up everything on instinct.

  “We’re missing something.” Remi glanced around and returned to the stove. One of the pots was spitting and she huffed unhappily. “Shit,” she grumbled and I stood up quickly to help her. My nose wrinkled over the smell of burnt rice.

  “Let me.” I turned the stove down and checked the rice. I’d never seen rice smoke like that before. I’m talking charred goo, which might require I throw the pot out. I didn’t put anything past Remi in the kitchen. She tried so hard, and I appreciated her efforts, but cooking was not her thing.

  Her frustration was adorable, and I clamped my mouth shut, knowing better than to say anything.

  “Oh hell.” Her face crumbled and I hugged her tightly.

  “Hey, look at me.” I tilted her chin up to my face. “One out of two isn’t bad. The beef and broccoli are tasty.” I was surprised to be saying that, but I wasn’t going to downplay her efforts.

  “But there’s no starch with dinner.” She sniffled.

  “Hey, hey, none of that. No tears at dinner.” I wiped the tears away, but it was no use.

  “Evan.” She cried harder.

  Fuck. I hated when she was this upset. Usually, I could blame her fuckwit ex, but not this time.

  “Come on, let’s eat and I’ll, uh, take care of the pot.” As in putting it deep into the trash can.

  “You’re going to throw it out.”

  I shook my head, giving her a bullshit excuse. “I’ll scrub it later.”

  Oh, I was definitely throwing it out.

  “Promise?”

  I crossed my fingers behind my back. May God and my pastor father strike me dead.

  “Uh huh.” I most certainly would not scrub the shit out of it, but I didn’t tell her that. I had six more of these pots stored in the garage brand new for when this happened. Macy’s even gave me a special coupon because I ordered them in mass quantities. I kept two boxes at my buddy Chase’s house because his girlfriend was equally a disaster in the kitchen. I wouldn’t have my wife crying, but I also wouldn’t get sick from bad rice I couldn’t get out of the metal because it had some thermonuclear reaction.

  “Okay.” My girl settled down, and we ate peacefully, feeding Ethan, who liked to take his bites of beef from our hands.

  Once we finished, I got up and prepared to clean up and discretely get rid of the pot. “If you put Ethan down, I got this.” I kissed her lips and then Ethan, who looked like he was drooping off to sleep in her arms. She took him to his room, and I knew little man wouldn’t take much to fall asleep once she’d changed him and tucked him in.

  I found her in our bedroom, the lights off and the TV playing low. Sometimes we snuggled up and watched a movie together; right now we were streaming a show on Netflix her girlfriends got her into. We agreed to one episode a night, but I had a feeling she snuck the next one. I didn’t check the episode tracker, because I trusted she’d have other plans for me if the episode sucked like tonight.

  I changed out of my clothes and pulled back the sheets, wearing my boxer briefs. Remi was in a slinky purple nightgown, the strap slipping off her shoulder taunting me.

  “Come here, sweet girl.” I beckoned her closer and she joined me, soft skin against my hard muscles. Her lavender scent calming me. Once I had her in my arms, I clicked off the TV and settled in to figure out what upset her from before.

  2

  Remi

  Evan wrapped his arms around me tightly. He was protective. Sweet. My rock through everything. But he was too perceptive by half to know when something bothered me. I knew the moment the TV was turned off, he’d start the inquisition. His tell was the gentle squeeze and heavy sigh like he was preparing to slay all my dragons. I rubbed my nose against his bare chest, inhaling his woodsy scent and the bite of sweat that lingered on his skin from the work day.

  “Sweet girl.” He used my nickname in a half growl, half tease that could go either way if I wanted to distract him.

  “Evan.” I didn’t know how to broach this topic with my husband. He’d given me everything, including an unlimited supply of pots and pans as if he didn’t realize I knew him equally as well. I might be kitchen-challenged, but I was not an idiot when I heard the clang of a pot being shoved inside our metal garbage can.

  There was no way that stupid rice was coming off the pot, and we both knew it. Asking him to scrub it was a ploy to buy me more time and a few extra snuggles with my baby boy. Too bad Macy’s had a kitchen sale and he restocked. I might not be able to reach the top shelf in the garage without a small ladder, but I knew what those hastily covered boxes were with the scribbles of X-mas decorations that hadn’t moved in all the time I’d lived here. I loved him even more for it.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart. I can’t fix whatever is going on in your head if I don’t know.” His lips glided along my forehead, soothing me.

  I burrowed deeper into his embrace and traced the stark lines of tattoos covering this sexy man’s chest. My face heated like always and my shyness had my tongue tied.

  “Who says I need anything fixed? Maybe I just need time to think it through.”

  Evan hummed through my delay tactic, the downside of being married to a cop. We could be here all night if I didn’t come clean with my thoughts. “Can you give me a hint?” His nose nudged my cheek and I knew before the night became day, we’d push the sheets to the floor and make love several times. Despite him working the day shift tomorrow and being tired, Evan Rooney would make sure I remember how much I was his wife in every carnal sense.

  I licked my lips and forced my throat to work out the words. “I was thinking that maybe Ethan needs a playmate.” I kissed the bottom of his chin and threaded my fingers playfully through the short ends of his hair.

  Evan grunted and put his hands behind his head. I called this his thinking pose. “We have the cat. Do you want to go looking for something else? Like a puppy?” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, probably wondering how long I was going to drag this out. Oh, this man knew exactly what I was getting at, and I grinned in the dark.

  Coyly, I mumbled, “I don’t know if a puppy is what I had in mind.” I molded my body to his and felt his erection pressed up against my hip. Evan had always been a bit of a stretch for me to take, and my body heated up recalling the first time and every time after. Sure it was easier now and wild on occasion, but it was the way he was determined to give me pleasure that had me spellbound. I shifted my hips, trying to ease the ache between my thighs.

  “I’m thinking that a puppy is a lot with a toddler, but if you want one, we can start looking this weekend since I’m off.” His large hand rubbed up and down my back in a figure-eight pattern. He was the devil with magic hands.

  “Evan?” My finger tapped his chest, and then I scraped my nail lightly over his nipple.

  He hissed. “Yeah, sweet girl?”

  “I don’t want a puppy.” I bit my lip, inhaling a deep breath. We hadn’t talked much about this, but I’d like to think Evan would want a baby of his own.

  “What do you want?” He took my hands in his, kissing the tips.

  “I want a baby. Another baby.” My heart pounded frantically, and in the dark it felt like my vision blurred, obscuring his handsome face. I was dizzy despite lying next to him in bed. “With you.”

  “Oh, Remington.” His voice had this reverent quality, but he hadn’t really answered my question. Woul
d he want another baby? Ethan wasn’t his biologically, but he loved him just the same. I didn’t have the traditional birth story, but Evan loved him like his own. I couldn’t be luckier.

  Evan didn’t verbalize a definitive answer, but he showed me with his body as he rolled over me and tucked me under him, reaching for my knee. His hand cupped under my thigh, and I reached down, pulling my slip up. His free hand moved, putting my hands over my head. It was a vulnerable position for me, but one I didn’t mind with Evan. He’d never made me feel anything but safe.

  “I love you,” I whispered into the dark as his forehead touched mine. His nostrils flared as he pushed inside my wet center, which stretched to fit him inside me. He was all the way in. His body hard, he stilled for a moment before slowly moving, making me gasp and whine at the heat and pressure that quickly built.

  “I love you more than anything. If my girl wants a baby, she’s getting a baby.” Evan thrusted in and out in slow-paced moves that left me panting and clawing at his shoulders for more. The air charged, electrifying. I didn’t understand why this felt so different than before, but his driven purpose wasn’t merely a sharing of bodies, but of creating life.

  It was that mystical thing that made my orgasm feel a million times stronger, milking Evan’s essence.

  “Oh, Evan.” I was whimpering, squealing even as he rocked into me harder, forcefully driving my body up the bed. His hand gently covered the top of my head from hitting the headboard and then he pulled me back down to drive in and out of me over and over again under the shelter of his body and in the safety of his arms.

  “Remi, Remi, Remi.” He chanted my name over and over, as lost as I was, until we both gasped and groaned a second release.

  Evan kissed me but didn’t pull out. Instead, he rocked slowly, anchoring my body beneath him.

  “I’m keeping you just like this forever.” He nipped at my nose as a drop of sweat beaded on his forehead before dropping onto my shoulder, making me shudder.

  “Going to have to eat sometime,” I teased him with a pinch to his lean side.

  He growled. “I’ll just feast on you, wife.”

  I hesitated but asked my question anyway. “I guess you’re okay with another baby?”

  He chuffed, a smile on his face evident in the dark. “Remi, I’m more than okay with it. I never pushed it, because I wasn’t sure you would want to try after Ethan’s birth.” His smile faltered with a grimace. “I never want you to go through that again.”

  “Already forgotten.” I kissed his lips.

  “So says my weak heart and gray hairs.”

  We continued kissing until Evan’s weight turned me into a pancake underneath him. He pulled out gingerly when I winced and tucked me back under his arm where I belonged. I guessed we were making baby number two now, and I slept with a smile on my face.

  3

  Evan

  I met the guys at Easton’s Pub for a few beers while Remi indulged in a rare girls’ night out. Hunter was already at our regular table in the corner, nursing a beer. His cousin, Damien, was noticeably absent. I couldn’t say I wasn’t a little relieved. We weren’t the best of friends; we had history, but I didn’t hate the guy. He was actually married to my ex-girlfriend whom I’d been off and on with for years before I met my wife. There was no animosity these days, but Damien had a wild streak like my ex, and I did my best to avoid it.

  We called it the curse of small-town living.

  Everyone was in everyone’s business, but it was life.

  I sat down across from Hunter and eased into the corner. I waved down a barmaid, who looked new, for whatever Hunter was having. Remi no longer worked here at the bar where I first met her, but I still missed seeing her whenever I stopped in.

  The owners, Andy and David, were our good friends, practically her brothers from another mother. They wanted her to come back and manage the bar when our son was older. I would have been fine with it except for the evening hours because I’d miss my sweet girl. That…and our new little DIY project at home I liked to called knocking up my wife. Remi never broached the topic of working here and instead took part-time classes at the college for her degree. I’d support her in whatever she wanted.

  “How have things been at home?” Hunter asked between sips. We’d gone to high school together and played a bit of football back in the day. Seemed like we would be townies for life, raising our families here.

  The barmaid put my beer down, and I took a satisfying drink of Andy’s latest small batch brew with a hum. “Really good. Ethan has been trying to walk, and Remi decided she wants to try for baby number two.” I puffed up my chest, feeling obscenely proud.

  Hunter chuckled. “The practice stage is fun.”

  “Considering I’ve already experienced the sleepless nights, I know what I’m in for.” We clinked glasses.

  “Drinking without me, I’m hurt.” Chase Calloway, another friend from our football days, sat next to me and waved down a drink of his own.

  “I just got here, but to be fair”—I checked my watched, a gift from Remi last Christmas with a stainless steel face and minimalist numbers—“you were late.”

  “Five minutes.” Chase bristled, checking his own, a smart watch that beeped and blipped every time he moved.

  “Seven, but who’s counting,” Hunter said in his typical gruff demeanor that was a lot friendlier than people gave him credit for. He said little, but when he spoke, he commanded the room.

  “Then catch up.” I toasted his glass with mine and we drank.

  “Where’s my sister’s shithead?” Chase teased, referring to his brother-in-law, Damien. It was an unspoken rule when we got together to practically take roll call.

  Hunter obliged him with an answer, “He is on babysitting duty while the girls hang out.”

  “Ah, and yours?” Chase inclined his head, looking at me.

  “Remi has a classmate, a freshman who likes kids. We call her up when we want a grown-up date night.” I figured Chase would someday get Winnie onboard with kids, but for now they were content to live one burned kitchen towel adventure at a time.

  The only other ones missing were Whittaker, but we knew he was working tonight, David, who was running a support group at my dad’s church oddly enough, and Andy, who was currently behind the bar, slinging drinks.

  “How’s Winnie?” I’d heard through the feminine grape vine that she’d burned her hand, trying to cook. She might actually be worse than my wife in the kitchen, but I didn’t say that out loud.

  “She is recovering nicely, but no more cooking for her. I swear she took about a year off my life, and now I have to repaint the one wall of the kitchen.”

  “I can help you with that,” Hunter grumbled between bites of potato skins and cheese sticks.

  “Appreciated.” Chase gave our ex-Army boy a salute.

  “There must be something she can cook well,” I said as I peeled the label off my beer.

  “Rice. Do you know how many times a week I eat fucking rice,” he bemoaned, rubbing his stomach.

  I held my hands up in surrender. “Sorry, man, mine burns it and I had to replace another pot this week.”

  “You two should trade.” Hunter waved his hand between us, grunting in a half laugh we’d all grown accustomed to with him. If Hunter was in a mood, grouchy was a constant companion for this guy. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Maybe the girls can cook for each of you. Swap dinners, you dicks.” Yeah, because Hunter knew exactly what we were thinking. As if we’d wife swap, which was never happening

  “What about a cooking class?” I mused out loud, nursing my beer again.

  Chase drummed his fingers on the table top. “I heard Carmen was hosting something over at the Cake and Battery.” Carmen was the owner of the oddly named bakery with the most amazing desserts. She even designed a few wedding cakes for our group of friends.

  I thought about this for a solid minute. “I think we’re going to have to find a way to present it without comi
ng off like total assholes. I already bought stock in pots and a rice cooker for Christmas, sweetened by something sparkly from Tiffany’s. My wallet hurts and if it snows there’s no overtime for me to work.”

  Chase chuckled. “That’s because you like getting laid”—he pointed his beer at me—“but you also don’t want to starve.”

  “Amen to that,” Hunter grumbled.

  “Still a dick move,” I mumbled, not exactly proud of my gift-giving prowess. I should have told them Remi asked for the rice cooker, but only because she felt like she was failing in the kitchen, and I couldn’t say no to anything she asked for when she seldom asked for anything.

  “Hang on.” Hunter pulled out his cell phone and typed a message before laying it back down on the table.

  “What did he do?” Chase nudged me and I had a bad feeling about this.

  “Patience, grasshopper.” Hunter smiled and turned his phone over when it dinged, sliding it over to our side of the table.

  “Is nothing sacred between the bro code?” I huffed, reading Taylor’s reply.

  Hunter chugged his beer before replying, “Happy Wife, happy life. Learn it. Live it.”

  And that’s how Hunter got my wife and Chase’s enrolled in cooking classes for the following week.

  4

  Remi

  “Sooo, how’s the baby-making going?” Winnie teased me and my face lit up like a firework. I couldn’t stop the heat in my cheeks, and I fanned myself, feeling a hot flash I was too young to be having. Mere thoughts of my husband sparked a fire in me still. It was pretty standard for word to get around in our group, and secrets didn’t last long despite keeping things between couples.

  Winnie Grey was probably my closest girlfriend in our group of friends since I met Evan. Not that the other girls weren’t nice, because I adored Taylor, but I felt closer to Winnie. We were the closest in age, and our guys seemed to hang out the most. Besides Whittaker, the park ranger, and his girl, Lia, who was an amazing photographer, I had a hard time bonding with people in general. I liked them, but I was always self-conscious and shy, so unless Evan was with me, it was hard to come out of my shell. It seemed odd since I lived with Andy and David above the bar for a year before a I lived with Evan, but those guys were my self-appointed big brothers from another mother and my son’s joint godfathers.