CHAPTER 1
There is no good reason for me to be thinking about my teammate’s younger sister.
Especially not contemplating whether Liberty Cruze will wear her soft-looking pink sweater when she arrives for the company’s holiday retreat.
I should have bailed.
Planned to stay holed up in my cabin. Safely away from temptation.
But…here I am.
It’s technically not too late until I’m inside; even then I could make a run for it.
“Welcome, and Merry Christmas,” a mechanical female voice says as I pass a sensor.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, “Merry Fucking Christmas. Wish me luck.”
I’m gonna need it. It doesn’t matter that her brother is going to be running block. My balls are going to be in a vise this whole damned holiday.
The sound of my pounding footfalls echoes on the polished concrete as the tunnel opens into the resort’s main facility—a cavern fit for royalty.
Or extraordinary frustration caused by proximity to a woman that I want, but shouldn’t even breathe near.
The resort might be huge, but I need states between me and Liberty.
This is a nightmare wrapped in holiday cheer.
I let out a whistle as I look around.Damn.The cave is always impressive, but now it’s decked and ready for one helluva Christmas getaway.
Too bad I feel like the Grinch.
Twinkling lights snake around exposed stone pillars.Fresh garland drapes the entrance to the great room.
A wreath hangs on the reinforced door to the armory. Apparently, even the weapons storage deserves holiday cheer.
Every surface has some kind of fresh greenery, or candle, or hand-carved woodland animal. Or….some sparkly shit.
“What the hell is that?” I lean in for a look at the pile of sparkly stuff. “Fakediamonds?”
Groaning, I drop my duffel bag on the concrete with a thud.
Clearly, the guys didn’t order up the decorations. Otherwise, it would be spent brass, shotgun shells, and whiskey bottles with candles shoved in the top.
Taking a tour around the great room, noting all the shit I’m going to harass the boss about, I roll out the tension in my shoulders.
Shit weather. Long drive. Poor visibility. Thinking about Liberty. You could break a fist punching my trapezius muscles right now.
Welcome to my life.
Whistling something I think is a Christmas tune, I head for the gleaming commercial kitchen.
“Let’s see what you ordered up, boss man.”
Knowing Marshall, Beast, and Luke, the silent partner, there’s food by the truckloads.
The fridge door weighs as much as an armored car. But what’s behind it is a feast for road-weary eyes.
“Well, hello, darling.” I grin.“Come to daddy.”
