The Christmas Challenge Read online

  “So,” he said, playing with his keys and then forcing him to sit back in his seat, ran his fingers through his hair. “The apartment.”

  She tuned to face him. “Are you angry?” Her eyes looked huge and luminous.

  “Angry why?”

  “Well,” she hugged her knees and laid her head on the top of her knees and faced him.

  He tried to ignore how flexible she was, not wanting to go there.

  “You might feel like I used you, and I did, but not intentionally, or maliciously, but Tanner just assumed that we were…you know, sleeping together so she had me bring your backpack to my apartment, and I didn’t correct her because she wouldn’t have believed me, but also because,” she licked her upper lip a little nervously and nibbled on it for a split second that shot blood and awareness straight to his cock. “Well, she’s still really wary about my motivation for being here. She thinks I still want Luke and so I thought that if you were with me here, she’d think I was over him.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  No hesitation. He played with his keys again then blew out a harsh sigh and placed his hands on his thighs. “Be real, Tucker. A few days ago you were afraid he was your one. You were afraid that you’d have a hard time not making a play for him.”

  “I know I said that,” she reached out a small hand and placed it over his hand. He looked at her small pale hand. She looked so delicate and yet she could control such a large animal, competed in a dangerous sport demanding split second timing and reflexes. “I even thought that, but I don’t think that now. I don’t feel that now.”

  “Luke hasn’t come back home yet.”

  “That won’t matter.” Tucker sounded so positive, and he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Why was he pushing this?

  “Laird you sound angry,” she said. “What is it?”

  What was it? Damned if he knew, but he felt on edge. Pissed. Wanting to make a point with her only he didn’t know what it was. Or why he thought he had some right to an opinion to her feelings.

  “Nothing.” And it was the first time he’d lied to her.

  Fuck.

  “I don’t know.” He was done with secrets and hiding his feelings. Maybe if he’d been more forceful with Nina about wanting to step up and be a father, she wouldn’t have felt that she had no options and no support. But she’d made the decision and the appointment before she’d even clued him in. “I don’t know myself anymore. I don’t—” he jerked the door of the Jeep open, impatient with his tumbling thoughts and his feelings.

  The punch and bite of the cold was a reality check.

  “Hey.” Tucker followed him. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” She ran around the Jeep and stood in front of him.

  He tried to walk around her, but she dodged sideways blocking his path.

  “I am calling bullshit on your attitude,” she said.

  “Call it,” he said hands on his hips.

  “You don’t let people in.” She poked him hard in the chest. “So don’t be pissed or lonely when you’re out on your ass alone,” she said. “Ironic for me to say that. I know.”

  The frustration leeched from her features. “Say what you want or don’t.” She looked sideways towards the barn. “Whatever, Laird. Sorry I was trying to make things easier on my sister by letting her think I’m the same as I ever was and that I wasn’t going to be eyeballing her husband. Bad girl even when I’m trying to be good.”

  She stomped her feet back and forth a couple of times, her body radiating tension or the cold night or frustration with him. “I’m going to bed. You can share the apartment or sleep with the horses. I don’t care, but I promise I will not jump you.”

  Tucker stalked off, punching in a code on the barn door and sliding the heavy door back. Laird watched her confident stride eat up the ground across the barn. Back rigid, shoulders back, hair bouncing gently and arrowing down to her tight, shapely ass that might as well have been tied to his cock because even as he walked away, he was following her, shutting the door with a satisfactory thump. Hell no he was not bedding down with any horses.

  He jogged up the steps, his eyes on Tucker, whom he could see moving around the apartment through the large window in the living room that looked out over the large arena. He knocked.

  “Come in.”

  He swung open the door and stopped, hands gripping both sides of the doorjamb. Tucker had stripped to a loose pair of thin sweats that hung low on her hips and she was in the process of pulling on a thin tank top. He could see the pale curve of her breast as she gentled the cotton over her body.

  “I’ll take the couch,” he had to force out the words.

  Tucker was already pulling a thick flannel comforter out from a storage compartment inside a bench by the kitchen nook table.

  “Cut the martyr crap. You’re like six inches taller than I am.”

  She sat down on the couch and wrapped the flannel comforter around her slim body.

  “Tucker, this is your apartment,” he said.

  “Yup, and I’m taking the couch.”

  She flipped off the lamp plunging the room into darkness.

  “Tucker, this is ridiculous.” On impulse he scooped her up in his arms.

  “Yes it is,” she said her fingers digging into his shoulders and the heat and strength of her touch seared him.

  He liked the bite of pain from her nails and immediately fantasized about feeling the scratch of them down his back. All he had to do was take her to the bed and… He bit back a groan as she moved in his arms, turning her body more fully into him so he could feel the press of her breasts against his chest. Why the hell was he trying to do the right thing? What was the right thing, anyway? At the moment, being buried balls deep inside the heaven of her body was the only thing he could think about, the only thing he wanted.

  “Not stripping you naked is totally ridiculous and draining all my willpower,” her breath teased across his lips. “But I have never backed down from a challenge and something is bothering you that you don’t want to talk about, and I like you too much to screw this, whatever this is, up, and it’s probably all in my mind anyway.” She whispered the last part.

  “Tucker,” he breathed her name and, needing the connection, closed the last few inches separating them.

  His kiss was at first gentle, testing, lips brushing a flower, and when Tucker’s mouth opened and she sucked gently on his lower lip he deepened the kiss groaning out a guttural “yes.” She anchored her arms around his shoulders and moved against him. Eliciting another groan, he lowered her feet to the floor.

  Her tongue swirled around the inside of his lips, and he felt like every nerve in his body was on fire. He pulled her closer, but didn’t know where to put his hands. He was obsessed with her butt and could hardly breathe through the need of wanting to rip off her sweats so he could grip her ass with the palm of his hands and hold her while he parted her thighs and completely opened her to him. He felt at war. Wanting to take her fast, there in the living room against the wall, or slow in the bed, start with her toes and work his way up. What would he take off first, sweats or tank? The mash of her breasts against his chest felt so erotic and he burned to cup her breasts and feel the texture and weight in his palms and in his mouth.

  He felt like he was drowning and her kiss was providing all the air. His heart hammered like he’d been running flat out on a mountain trail for an hour. His hands slid under her tank and his thumbs traced her sternum as he finally felt the beautiful weight of her breasts in his hands. He cupped them, wishing she’d left the light on so he could see her body.

  Her hands tangled in his hair and he pressed her breasts together and sucked one nipple into his mouth. Time stood still. He was lost in sensation. The entire universe collapsed in on itself and there was only Tucker and her body and soft sighs.

  “Laird.” She pulled hard on his hair.

  Jesus, even that felt good. But the “stop!” didn’t.


  “Sorry,” he breathed against her breast. “Sorry.”

  His breathing was erratic and he could barely hear her over the pounding in his chest. It was like an out of body experience. “Sorry,” he said again, although he wasn’t really sure if he was really speaking or thinking or even if the word he’d said had been in English.

  Tucker reached over and turned on the light.

  He kissed her breast softly, loving how he could feel her heart pounding against his cheek. He savored the thump, thump. She was so alive. She was bringing him back to life. He kissed her gently right over where her heart lay and then went to pull her shirt down.

  “Shit,” he recoiled. “Did I do that?” he asked staring at a series of red marks marring the underside of her breasts.

  “Yeah,” Tucker smiled. “You’re hot as hell. Guess it’s true still waters run deep.”

  “Fuck,” he breathed, his gaze stricken as he met her dark green eyes that were still hazy with desire. “I hurt you.”

  “No.” She stood on tip toe and kissed his mouth, but he took a step away from her. “No. I loved it,” she stepped with him. “I wanted to keep going, but I made a promise to myself, and…” She looked up at him, a dash of uncertainty flashing in her eyes.

  It was then he’d realized her sweats were pooled around her ankles. He’d pulled those off too. He’d thought he’d just thought about it. Jesus. He really had been about to ravish her against a wall. After she’d been so clear about her intentions.

  He bent down and hiked her sweats up, but his eyes were naturally caught by the flash of deep red landing strip barely hiding her soft folds, and it took all his restraint to not lean in and nuzzle her before taking a taste. His mouth watered. Stand up, his brain ordered. Instead he crouched in front of her like a primitive human worshipping a beloved goddess.

  He sucked in a shaky breath. She glistened. Even her thighs showed evidence of her arousal. He wanted to touch her and taste her. Laird pulled up her sweats, stood in front of her, still close.

  She covered his hand with hers as her sweats hit her waist.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I’m so out of my depth.”

  He sure as hell didn’t have any advice.

  “I’m not a good man, Tucker,” he confessed. He’d seen another red mark on her hip as he’d pulled her sweats up. He’d mauled her. And as much as the marks disturbed him, he also had to admit he was more than a little turned on. But it was so much more than that.

  She frowned. “Who told you that?” she demanded.

  He bowed his head. Not wanting to bring up his past. Wishing he could start brand new with her. Be the man he’d thought he was. Or someone different. A man who would stay. A man a woman would want to commit to. Build a life with. Make and love and raise a child with.

  He wasn’t that man and wishing he were wouldn’t make it happen.

  “Nina,” he said softly, feeling like his chest had just cracked open laying everything he was out on the floor for Tucker to see. His failure. That he hadn’t been good enough for his birth mother or father. For Nina. For the baby they’d never have.

  “Look at me,” Tucker said fiercely. Laird opened his eyes. “She was wrong. I don’t even know who that bitch is, but she was dead wrong.”

  Tucker gripped his fist and raised it to her lips.

  “And everything I’ve seen you do each time we are together proves that to me. So forget whatever stupid and mean things Nina said and move on.”

  Despite how he felt torn up inside and exposed, Tucker could still make him smile.

  “You are such a warrior.”

  “Damn straight. And a cowgirl. Look, there’s a lot of things I’ve done that were probably in retrospect not at all cool or smart or good or whatever judgey label someone wants to stick on it. But I’ve always been honest with myself, and lived the life I wanted. It’s mine to live. But now it’s time for some changes. I think you’re feeling that too, but you and I both need to let go of the past. Bitterness and regret are shackles that are going to drag us down if we don’t pull out a chain cutter.”

  “You are an amazing woman, Tucker.”

  He kissed her forehead and then leaned into her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  “I am,” she said smugly, and he felt like a ray of sun peaked behind all the clouds that were shrouding his heart. “I am also going to throw your ass on the bed so I can pretend to get some sleep on the couch because I am not giving up on my challenge. I don’t know what this thing is between us, or if it’s all in my imagination, but I’m not going to run my life like I’ve always done. Tucker two-point-oh. Not selfish. Not a hedonist. Not thoughtless or impulsive.”

  There was so much he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t form right in his brain. So instead he kissed her cheek, lingering for a moment. It would have to be enough to get him through the night.

  “It’s not in your imagination,” he whispered.

  *

  The next morning Laird was up, showered and dressed before Tucker had even stirred. He quietly made some French press coffee, but even though he turned off the stove the minute he heard the water boil, Tucker sat up, her tank strap slipped off one shoulder and her hair was a glorious red cloud around her face and shoulders. His body, which had been pretty much on high-to-medium arousal since yesterday, kicked in hard.

  He breathed deeply and reached for the calm that normally surrounded him, but had been absent for the past six months. He felt a bit hungover even though he hadn’t had any alcohol. He’d been unable to sleep. The sheets and pillowcase held Tucker’s scent that had taunted him all night. And the knowledge that she was only a wall away shouted in his consciousness keeping him awake, and restless, staring at the ceiling and throwing off the comforter because his body was too heated.

  He surreptitiously adjusted himself and brought her coffee in bed.

  “Good morning,” he said and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, trying to keep everything so casual when he was feeling anything but. “Sleep in. I can make breakfast on my own.”

  “Calling BS again,” Tucker said, pleasantly, sipping the coffee. “Although the coffee in bed can continue.”

  He didn’t know where to look. The thin tank did nothing to hide the shape of her generous breasts. He could see her curves down the loose neckline and her nipples pushed at the cotton.

  And he was hard again. He’d had more control at sixteen.

  Tucker continued to sip her coffee and stare at him directly.

  “I like looking at you too,” she said. “And touching,” she whispered, gracefully standing up and letting her free hand graze his obvious erection. “Even if I can only think about touching.”

  He watched her walk toward the bathroom and nearly choked on his own coffee when she dropped her sweats and stepped out of them. Then she peeled off her tank and just as she disappeared behind the bathroom door, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes twin burning emeralds and her hair tumbling down her back was a fiery curtain.

  “Wait for me,” she said.

  Laird couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted.

  Chapter Ten

  “What do you mean you’re not wearing a dress?” Tucker practically wailed. It was her one chance to bond with Tanner, taking her to Married in Marietta and helping her choose a dress. It was what sisters did. What bridesmaids did.

  “I’m not really that into dresses, and it’s an expense I don’t need right now, and I can’t afford the time.”

  Tucker stared at her. “You. Are. Getting. Married.”

  Tanner flushed and avoided her meeting eyes.

  “Wait,” Tucker held up her hand like a traffic cop and halted Tanner’s progress out of the mudroom so that she wouldn’t head back out to the barn before they had this conversation. “You do want to marry Luke, right?”

  “Of course.”

  Tucker narrowed her eyes. “I sense a ‘but.’”

  “No ‘but,’” Tanner said wear
ily.

  “You don’t seem happy.”

  Tanner grabbed her Carhartt fleece lined work coat. “Why the hell would I be happy? Our home, the McTavish ranch, has been sold on my watch.”

  “It’s not your fault, Tanner. You did your best.”

  “No. Dad gambled away our ranch and his family’s financial security and drank himself into near liver failure under my watch. I was living here and supposedly taking care of things with my big brain and my big ideas and my big attitude that I could do everything better than him. And that pissed off Dad more.”

  “Keep talking,” Tucker said. Finally Tanner wasn’t playing the ice queen.

  “Even worse, I bet that if I’d met Luke a couple years ago and gotten married and pregnant with a son, Dad would never have considered such a drastic step to get out of debt. He would have fought. He would have let me fight. Instead he went behind my back. Total chauvinist. So no Tucker I am not happy.”

  “Maybe you and Luke should wait until—” Tucker broke off. She knew that glint of steel in her twin’s eyes too well after many years of being on the receiving end of it.

  “Until what, I’m homeless? Unemployed? That will make everything better.” Tanner blew out an impatient breath. “This is our ranch until the New Year. I always pictured me getting married here, and Luke’s trying to make that happen. We’re also hosting Parker’s adoption celebration at the same time so it will be a happy memory. A celebration of family and a new future with all of us together. Colt and Talon are even naming us guardians of Parker.”

  “But no dress?” Tucker cut to, for her, the essential detail.

  “I’ll wear a dress probably just not a big fancy prom looking thing. Luke wouldn’t recognize me anyway. I’m sure he’s not going to dress up. Probably just nice jeans and a nice shirt so don’t make a big deal of it.”

  “It’s my twin’s wedding.”

  “You’re the fancy one, but you’ve always hated weddings and think commitment is B-O-R-I-N-G. And speaking of commitment, please don’t dump Laird until after the wedding. I need him to feed everyone through the month.”