A Barker Family Christmas Page 3

  “Then stop goddamn running, Bobbi, because I’m tired and I need to know that we’re in this together.”

  She slammed into his chest before he finished speaking.

  Bobbi bit her tongue in an effort to keep herself from crying like a baby, but it was no use. When his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his warmth, she sobbed. And when his mouth blew hot breath against her neck and he kissed the tattoo that was there, she shuddered, whimpering uncontrollably.

  “I’m with you,” she managed to say through her tears. “I’m so with you.”

  “I know,” he murmured. “ I know.”

  “I’m sorry, Shane. It’s just been hard with Dad getting worse and Gramps and Christmas and…I want you to be happy and…that’s all I ever wanted.”

  His fingers crept under her chin, forcing her eyes upward. “Don’t,” he said roughly. “There is no happy unless we’re together, Bobbi. You and me. That’s all that matters.”

  Bobbi’s throat constricted and she had to wait a moment before she could speak. “I love you, Shane Gallagher. So much. It’s kind of scary, you know?”

  “Yeah,” he murmured, lowering his mouth until he was a breath away from hers. “I know.”

  His mouth slid across hers, a soft whisper—a touch that calmed her—and she felt something inside her melt. He knew her better than any person on the planet, and that included her sisters. She was done. Emotionally done. Physically done.

  Just done.

  Shane scooped her into his arms and set her on the edge of her bed. Carefully he undressed her and then slid in behind her, pulling the covers over them as Bobbi snuggled into his chest. He held her until she stopped shivering.

  His hands moved over her body, rubbing her shoulders and kneading the knots in her back. She closed her eyes and let his warmth roll over her skin. She let his touch soothe the pain that wasn’t visible.

  And as the wind and snow and ice continued to pound the house, Bobbi eventually relaxed enough to fall asleep.

  They were good.

  Things were going to be okay.

  She wouldn’t think about Betty’s wedding, or her chipped nails or the fact that the flowers hadn’t arrived from Ecuador. Flowers that Bobbi had ordered late because she’d been so distracted. Flowers that Betty claimed were the only ones she’d walk down the aisle with.

  Bobbi drifted off to sleep, content and warm, and for the first time in weeks, without an ounce of fear.

  Chapter Four

  Two days until Christmas…

  Shane woke just as first light was beginning to peek through the frosted windows of Bobbi’s room. The air was chilly, but he was warm beneath the pink and green comforter. Bobbi was still asleep, nestled against his chest where she belonged. He settled back, content to hold her—content listening to her breathe.

  He kissed the top of her head and smiled.

  Shane was of the opinion that when things were getting good, life had a way of screwing with you. It was God’s way of keeping things in balance. And sure that made it hard sometimes, but life was hard. It was also rewarding and rich and it was what you made of it.

  Of that he was damn sure. He was also damn sure of a few other things.

  One. It was going to be cold as hell today.

  Two. He’d be spending a good part of the morning shoveling snow.

  Three. He had something important to share with Bobbi.

  And four. Before any of that happened, he was going make her moan and scream and so damn happy that she’d be walking around with a smile as wide as the Grand Canyon.

  He angled his head so that he could see her face. See the long lashes that swept down over her cheeks and the upturned nose that he loved to kiss. The generous mouth he loved to kiss even more. The delicate ears and feminine jaw and the tattoo that matched his own, half hidden by the fall of her hair.

  Shane bent low and moved the hair away, running his tongue along the soft skin. Hmmm. He loved the sweet scent of honey in her hair and he sure as hell loved the taste of her.

  She moved slightly, still asleep but now a half smile played across her face as she shifted a bit, giving him a better angle to reach the hollow of her neck. His mouth slid lower and he ran his hand down her body until he cupped her hip, pulling her closer yet. She fit against him perfectly.

  Shane spent some time kissing her neck, his tongue sliding along her skin and his fingers rolling over the swell of her ass. Gently, he moved her so that she was on her back, still with that half smile on her face. Still caught between dreams and reality.

  Her breasts begged for his touch and Shane’s breath hitched at the site of them. It never ceased to amaze—the differences between them. How soft and round and full she was. He took one nipple into his mouth, and worked his tongue over it while his fingers teased the other methodically. Slowly. Thoroughly.

  He suckled and played with her, eyes watching her face as she began to move against him. Move with him. So fucking with him. Was there anything more beautiful than a woman filled with pleasure? Pleasure caused by him?

  “Hell no,” he whispered hoarsely, letting her nipple fall from his mouth. He gave the pebbled flesh one more, quick thrust of his tongue before he moved even lower.

  His cock was hard. It ached with need. But Shane had other plans at the moment. His hands moved to either side of her hips, and he trailed a fiery line of kisses over her abdomen and across her stomach before setting his sites on the prize that glistened between her legs.

  She was already wet and ready for him. And maybe he growled like a goddamn caveman but shit, he couldn’t help it. Every single inch of Bobbi Jo Barker was a drug that he craved. She was the habit he couldn’t kick.

  He glanced up and smiled wickedly when he caught her hooded gaze looking down at him. A slow grin crept over her face and those luscious lips parted.

  “Morning,” she said, voice full of rasp.

  Shane dipped his head and licked up along her inner thigh. “It is,” he replied, eyes glued to the wet, pink flesh inches from him. “A good morning.”

  She wriggled a bit, her legs relaxing so that she was totally open to him and he glanced up at her once more.

  “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”

  Her breath caught and her tongue darted out. Those eyes that he loved were luminous, the look in them one that he’d put to canvas. It was a look he would remember for all time. A man could live on a diet of Bobbi Jo Barker.

  The rough pads of his fingers ran along the inside of her thighs and when she moaned, thrusting her hips at him, his cock twitched. He kept his eyes on her, moving his fingers closer and closer until he dipped them into her wetness. She was slick and hot and he spread her wider.

  Shane didn’t hesitate. He dipped his head and licked along the trail his fingers had made. He inhaled her musky scent, her arousal making him harder. Making him want her all the more.

  “Shane,” she whispered, her hands creeping into his hair.

  His tongue slid inside her heat and she bucked against him. With his hands on her hips, he held her steady, and with his mouth on her clit, he tongued and suckled and teased her until he knew she was ready.

  “Come for me, babe,” he said roughly, licking the engorged bud that glistened just for him. She was gyrating and moaning, her hands now at her nipples as he continued to suck hard, two fingers now buried deep inside her.

  “Oh God, Shane,” she said. “I can feel it. I can feel it.”

  “Good,” he replied with a growl, his mouth full of her taste. “That’s good.”

  She shattered against his mouth, her body convulsing with the aftershocks of her orgasm as she continued to moan, her breaths falling from her in ragged bursts.

  “Sweet Jesus, but you taste like sugar when you come for me,” he said, biting the inside of her thigh.

  “Lucky for me, you’ve got a sweet tooth,” she replied.

  “Yeah, lucky for me,” he murmured, sliding up over her, his hands on either si
de of her head now, supporting his weight so that he didn’t crush her. He stared down into a face flushed from pleasure that he’d given, into eyes that he’d never forget, and into a mouth that was his.

  “I love you,” he whispered fiercely. Shane kissed her hard, with heat and passion and a possessiveness that he’d never felt before. Not like this. Not like it was a living, breathing thing, etched into bone. Etched into his soul.

  He kissed her for a long time, his tongue claiming every inch of her as his and yeah, he was going to admit to himself later that the whole caveman thing wasn’t that far off.

  Bobbi Jo belonged to him and finally he felt as if they were on the same page.

  When he finally dragged his mouth away, she exhaled softly, her fingers creeping up over his face, and cradling him.

  “That was amazing,” she said, tears filling the corners of her eyes.

  Shane bent down once more. He nipped her nose and nuzzled that spot that was his, behind her ear. He felt her tremble and whispered. “It’s not over yet.”

  With one thrust, he filled her and, holy hell, but she was still wet and tight. He began to move slowly, hiking her right leg up over his shoulder as he gazed down at her.

  “Feel good?” he managed to say.

  Her inner walls squeezed him and he gasped, eyes half closed when she growled against him.

  “Better than good,” Bobbi replied. “But Shane?”

  “Hmmmm?”

  “I want it fast and hard.”

  Um. Yeah. Hello. His eyes flew open and the heat in her eyes made him harder.

  “That’s if you can handle it,” she said, grinning wickedly, her fingers digging into his ass, urging him on.

  “I can handle it,” he said, increasing his tempo and loving the rhythm that was all theirs.

  And he handled it.

  Truth be told, he handled it more than once.

  Chapter Five

  “You’re in a good mood this morning,” her gramps said before tossing back the last bit of coffee in his cup.

  Bobbi glanced over from the counter and tried to hide a smile, but it was so damn hard when the feelings inside her were this intense. She shrugged and put away the last of the breakfast dishes, humming along to the carols that played on the radio.

  “I guess I’m in the Christmas mood,” she replied.

  “About time,” Herschel mumbled. “I was starting to think you’d been hijacked by Scrooge.”

  She walked over and kissed his cheek. “Nope. No room for Scrooge this year.” Or any other year, she thought.

  Bobbi leaned against the kitchen table, eyes on the beauty outside. The trees and bushes were coated in a layer of ice that glistened beneath the bright morning sun and a blanket of snow covered everything. It truly was a winter wonderland, and her heart swelled. She was full up. Filled with love and contentment. Sure, she knew things would get rough again—with her and Shane that was a given. But she now knew that they were going to make it. No matter what.

  “That was some storm,” her gramps said.

  “Hmmm.”

  “According to the news, it’s over. The roads will be cleared by this afternoon and it’s all good right up until New Year’s Eve.”

  “Oh, awesome,” she replied, distracted at the sight of Shane cleaning off his truck. His hair peeked out from underneath his toque, the dark waves touching the tops of his shoulders, and with a few days worth of stubble on his face, mirrored aviators—not to mention the black and blue plaid jacket and faded jeans—he made everything inside her melt all over again.

  God, she loved him.

  “We’re going to be good,” she said to herself, a smile tugging at her mouth.

  “What was that?” Herschel said, eyebrows cocked.

  “Nothing,” she said, patting his hand and glancing around the room. The kitchen was spotless. In fact the entire house was spotless, as she’d done nothing else but clean for the past few weeks.

  “Betty called when you and Shane were still upstairs.”

  Damn. Bobbi frowned glancing at the clock. It was just after nine. “Gramps, you’re just telling me this now? What did she want?”

  “Well my sweets, when I saw your smiling face this morning, it was nice, you know?” He winked. “Seeing you happy. Praying that there wouldn’t be anymore of that endless muttering.”

  “Muttering?”

  “You mutter when you’re upset.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do,” he replied with a chuckle. “It was nice to see your smile is all.”

  “Okay,” Bobbi said slowly. This can’t be good.

  “And I thought that maybe it would be nice to see that smile at least as long as it took for me to eat my bacon and eggs.”

  Shit. “Gramps, what did she say?”

  Her grandfather’s face took on a pained expression and Bobbi had a feeling that whatever it was he was keeping from her wasn’t going to be good.

  “Promise me you won’t get mad.”

  Okay. This really wasn’t going to be good.

  “Gramps,” she said, a note of warning in her voice.

  “Betty said something about cancelling the caterer because the guy was a complete ass, and she didn’t like his food suggestions anyway.”

  Bobbi swore under her breath and gritted her teeth.

  “She said that she’s sorry because they were your suggestions but she hopes you’ll understand. Said something about mushroom canapés—that they weren’t her thing.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “What are they anyway?”

  “What are what?” Bobbi snapped, more sharply than she should of, but honestly, what the hell was Betty thinking?

  “Canapés? What are they?”

  “They’re pastries and they’re delicious.” Bobbi loved canapés.

  “And she doesn’t like shrimp either.”

  “Lovely.” If Betty were here with her in the kitchen, Bobbi would have shoved a truckload of shrimp down her sister’s throat.

  “She cancelled the caterer. One day before her wedding.” A slow burn started beneath Bobbi’s skin. “The caterer that I hand picked. The caterer that is the most sought after caterer in this entire county. Do you know that I had to bribe Chef Jean with free hockey lessons for his kids to get him to do this on Christmas Eve? Hockey lessons that I haven’t told Billie about either.”

  “I’m sure your sister won’t mind.”

  “She’s full of shit by the way.”

  “Who, Billie or Betty?”

  “Betty! Honestly, Gramps. Aren’t you paying attention? She likes shrimp.” Doesn’t she?

  Bobbi threw her hands up into the air. “What the hell does she expect everyone to eat? Fruit loops? There’s a sale on at the grocer. I could stock up. What do you think? Twenty-five boxes or so?”

  “Betty said that Duke Everett was on it.”

  Bobbi snorted. “Duke Everett? What’s he going to be able to scrounge together this late in the game? It’s not like he can order in anything special. It’s freaking two days until Christmas. Nothing will get here in time. So what’s on the menu, chicken wings and pizza?”

  Herschel looked pained. “Something like that.”

  “You know what?” She tossed a cloth into the kitchen sink. “Whatever. It’s her wedding, is there anything else I should know about?”

  “She also said something about not getting married at the church. Thought it wasn’t cozy enough.”

  Okay. Bobbi was going to lose it now. Sure she’d volunteered to oversee the details of her sister’s wedding, and she supposed that as Betty was the bride it was her sister’s prerogative to change all the things that Bobbi had painstakingly organized, but to do it one day before the event? Was her sister nuts?

  “Oh god,” Bobbi groaned. Of course her sister was nuts.

  “She said not to worry,” Herschel said quickly.

  “Really,” Bobbi said. “And why is that exactly?”

  “W
ell, she said that Shane agreed to host the wedding at his place.”

  “That’s my place too, and I sure as hell don’t remember agreeing to that.”

  “Betty said the one barn can be converted into something suitable.”

  “Unbelievable,” Bobbi replied with a wince. Shit, was that the beginning of a headache? She rubbed her temple and headed for the cabinet in the bathroom. She grabbed some pain meds and after washing it down with a cold glass of water, she glanced at her grandfather.

  “So who’s doing the converting?”

  “Converting?” He scratched at his ball cap.

  “Who’s doing all the work? Because I sure as hell have better things to do.” Like finding those damn roses.

  “Matt Hawkins from what I understand.”

  Okay, Bobbi thought. That wasn’t so bad. The guy was handy.

  “There is one more thing though,” Herschel said hesitantly.

  Bobbi was afraid to ask. So she said nothing.

  “She asked about the roses.”

  Yep. That was definitely a headache coming on.

  “What did you tell her?” Bobbi asked.

  “That they looked beautiful.”

  “Good answer,” she replied with a sigh. “I’m sure they do look beautiful.” She frowned at the slight smile on her grandfather’s face. “Wherever the hell they are.”

  The back door flew open and Shane poked his head inside. Pia barked crazily and he scooped the little rascal into his arms, grinning at her. “You ready? “Ah,” Bobbi glanced at her grandfather before turning back to Shane. “I thought you’d be out there for hours shoveling snow.”

  “Nah. I borrowed the neighbor’s snow blower, and the driveway is good to go. We need to get home.”

  “But, I can’t leave Gramps alone.”

  “Sure you can,” Herschel butted in. “Mrs. McKewan is on her way.”

  “Who called Mrs. McKewan?”

  “I did,” Herschel replied sharply. “I might be in a wheelchair for the moment, but I’m still possessed of all my faculties.”

  “Fine, Gramps.” Her eyes narrowed on Shane. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you anyway.”

  “What the hell did I do?” Shane asked, that wicked grin she was going to kiss away, still very much intact.