A Bad Boy for Christmas (5 page)

Frank was beginning to look a little green around the gills. Cutter looked askance. Grandma Mary, on the other hand, had a smile brewing.

“We should probably keep her away from Bree and the Zoey wife,” Cutter said. “And the paint.”

“The Zoey wife?”

“Eli’s wife, Zoey,” said Mary with a warning glance for her men. “She’s a costume designer and I’m sure she’d like to meet you. Breanna is Caleb’s wife. She’s a photographer. I’m sure she’d like to meet you too.”

“There are wives in this wonderland?” How could she have missed this? She looked at Cutter. “Do you have a wife too?”

“No wife. No strays. Just women.”

Why was she so
relieved
? “
Good
for you.” And then, “There’s no need for me to meet any Jackson wives. Or paint any pictures. I’m here to support Nash. He’s the one you could roll out the welcome mat for, and I guarantee you won’t be disappointed with him. Don’t worry about me.”

Cutter eyeballed her for a long moment before dropping his gaze to the beer he hadn’t yet touched. “Surely if you’re as good as family to
him
, we need to treat you the same way?”

“Nah.” Now she felt really uncomfortable. “I’m all set for family. But thanks.”

“How did you come to be in the foster care system, Mia?” Mary asked gently. “If you don’t mind me asking?”

Normally she did mind people asking, because usually it was none of their business. This time it
was
their business, kind of, what with her past being so entwined with Nash’s.

“My father has a great left hook.” Mia shrugged, as if the words came easily. “And an even better right one. As for my mother, well, she just keeps going back for more. Me, I’m mouthy. You might have noticed.” Cutter had definitely noticed, if the way his gaze lingered on her lips was any indication. “Better for all concerned when I stay away.”

Mary Jackson’s gaze had softened considerably. “Are you an only child?”

“Yes.”

“I think we need a Sunday afternoon BBQ at the marina,” Mary said with a pointed stare in Cutter’s direction. “Friends and family, the regular crew. And Liza Nash’s boy and Mia.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Cutter.

Mia smiled, she couldn’t help it. “That ‘yes ma’am’ is
very
cute on you.”

“Maybe one day I’ll save one for
you
.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” She made her sigh spectacularly wistful. “How best might I work on earning one?”

“Shutting up would help.”

“Cutter!” his grandmother scolded.

“She
asked
.”

Frank snorted and shifted his beer to make way for a basket of bread, brought to the table by yet another lovely brunette with a bright smile for Cutter especially.

“Good service,” Mia said. “Speedy.”

“The ones who keep us in seafood always get the special service,” the waitress said, and turned to Cutter. “Matty’s down at the beach. Said he saw you there. I only let him go so he could tell you he wouldn’t be at Nippers this weekend.”

“Wasn’t me.” Cutter grimaced. “I should probably go and … clear that up.”

“No need,” said Frank, with his gaze fixed on something beyond the brasserie.

Mia followed his gaze and saw Nash crossing the road, a couple of barefoot kids in tow.

“Holy shit,” squeaked the waitress. “There’s two of you.”

Cutter said nothing. Whatever thoughts he had on the matter were turned well and truly inward.

“I thought he was
you
,” said one of the boys when they reached the table.

“Yeah.” Cutter’s gaze skittered to Nash who’d stopped with some distance still between them. “I can see some resemblance.”

“He’s like your
twin
,” said the other kid.

“No. Just a brother. Catch you later, okay?” Cutter spared a glance for the waitress who herded them away immediately. The silence that followed seemed fraught with uncertainty. As if no one knew where to begin.

Mary’s eyes began filling with tears. Frank stood abruptly and held out his hand to Nash.

“My grandparents,” Cutter said. “Frank and Mary Jackson.”

They shook hands. First time Mia had ever seen Nash looking so openly lost.

“Here, have a seat, take mine,” she said before he disappeared into the ether. “I’m just about to go … over there, and take a picture of that beautiful …

“Rock?” suggested Cutter.

“Yes.” Although not before picking up a slice of the herb bread to go.

Nash sent her a beseeching glance, which she ignored as she packed up her computer and phone and shuffled her way past the lot of them. “Nice to meet you, see you later, gotta run.”

Not her family. Let them sort it out.

She’d only open her mouth and make a mess of things if she stayed.

She hoped she’d done the right thing, telling them about Nash’s mother. It was better wasn’t it, to come clean and let them deal with it?

The thought dogged her all the way across the parking lot and up to the headland. Wind whipped her hair and she gathered it up and twisted it into a knot. It wouldn’t stay put for long but hopefully it’d last long enough.

She took a few photos of the bay and the horizon. Plenty of clouds in the sky for added interest. A couple of boats passing by, people swimming off the beach to the right.

Mia shoved her tech in her bag after that and tried to let go of the tension that had invaded her stomach. Things would be going well back there. The Jacksons were good people; even she could see that.

Nash was finally going to get the kind of family he’d always deserved, people who took care of their own, and if Mia didn’t exactly have a place at that table, well, that was okay too. She’d be a sorry soul if she couldn’t be pleased when a fellow traveler found his way home.

It could have been half an hour later, it could have been three, when she heard footfalls behind her. Twilight had given way to full darkness as she stood and turned to face the intruder.

Not Nash.

Cutter.

“How’d it go?” she asked. Strange how the question was the same no matter which of them stood there.

“Reasonably well. My grandparents are trying their best to welcome the new grandson to the fold. Not sure they have answers for him other than my father did hang around with Liza Nash back in the day. She left in a hurry and a pile of Jackson cash disappeared the same day. They don’t know if it was taken or given. As far as they know she never kept in touch and my father rarely spoke of her again.” He shrugged and jammed big hands in the front pocket of his jeans, those broad shoulders hunched against the breeze. “I’ve left my father a couple of messages.”

“On your mother’s phone?”

“Yeah.” He bit back a laugh. “Nothing specific. I told him to phone home.”

“Good choice.” She sat back down and stared out over the inky water, and after a moment he joined her. Not up in her space but present nonetheless. “How do you feel about having a half-brother?”

“Angry. Shattered.” He gave it to her straight, and that was her kind of talking. “Don’t even know who to protect anymore. They’re all family.”

“Do you really believe all family members need protecting? Hell, in my experience some of them need prosecuting.”

“Lady, that is not my world.”

“Lucky you.”

“My father didn’t
know
he had another son. If he had there’s no way he’d have left Nash with his mother.
Especially
if she couldn’t look after him.”

But Cutter didn’t sound as sure as he had before.

Uncertainty didn’t suit him.

“Hey,” she murmured. “What’s done is done. And I have some tips for you when it comes to your big brother. Don’t leave him alone with the women in your family, especially the caring ones who might want to hug him and stuff. He won’t know how to handle them. He’ll go mute.”

“You want me to find a feral dog to keep him company instead?”

“That’ll work.” It probably would. “You and your brothers want to get to know Nash, put him to work on a boat engine or something.”

“That’s my job.”

“Then you’ll get it done faster with two.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

She really wasn’t. It wasn’t easy seeing a fundamentally good man struggle to remake his world. “It won’t be easy, you moving over to make room for him. You’re so physically similar. Part of you is going to view him as a spare, waiting in the wings to take your place.”

“That’s not what I see when I look at him.”

“What do you see?”

“Hardship,” he offered finally. “Loneliness.”

“Hey!” She kicked out at his boot in protest. “He had me.”

“So he did.” The flash of a smile temporarily chased the shadows from his face. “I meant what I said back there about treating you like family. I mean to.”

“Really?”

“I have sisters-in-law. I’ll treat you the way I treat them.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ll tease you, keep you out of harm’s way and probably take ruthless advantage of your kind nature.”

“Cutter, sweetie. Pretty sure I don’t
have
a kind nature. What else you got for me?”

“I could ignore you. Although I gather you don’t really like that.”

True. “What else?”

“We can always keep circling one another like sharks tracking blood. Although according to my grandmother I have to stop that at once. Apparently it’s not inclusive.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she murmured. “In some circles it’s considered downright friendly.”

He looked at her, eyes shadowed. “Can I ask a question about you and Nash now?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Have you ever been lovers?”

“No.”

“Have you ever wanted to?”

“No.”

“Has
he
ever wanted to?”

“Never. That’s not our relationship.”

“Yet you’re attracted to me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, well. Really didn’t see that one coming when I woke up this morning. Sometimes I want things I shouldn’t.” She let herself study the man beside her, cataloguing the differences between him and Nash. Cutter’s hair was longer and more unruly. His eyes were greener than Nash’s. More gray in them, less hazel. “So you picked up on my, ah, interest in you, huh?”

“I’m not dead.”

“And here I thought I was being discreet.”

“Is that even in your vocabulary?”

The man had a point. “There’s a whole different energy between you and me. I don’t know why. It just is. I think we should ignore it.”

“You really think that’s possible?”

“We could always call it putting family first. Isn’t that what you do around here?”

“Circling like sharks it is,” he murmured and went back to staring at the ocean.

She felt the withdrawal of his gaze as if he’d physically stolen some of her heat. “I promised Nash I’d behave responsibly and not make the situation any messier than it already is.”

“Very responsible.”

“We need to consider other people’s feelings.”

He nodded.

“It’d be wrong.”

“So wrong,” he murmured and made the words sound like sin. He leaned back, planting both hands on the ground and she fought the instinct to shimmy on over into his lap and see if he was hard for her beneath his jeans. She thought he might be, but it was too dark to tell by looking.

Not that she should be.

Looking.

“I’m probably not even your type,” she offered. And that was undoubtedly for the best.

“You want to know if I’m hard for you?” he rumbled and she dragged her gaze up over his abs and chest and finally made it to his face. “Answer’s yes.”

His words tugged hard at the desire in her belly. Only loyalty to Nash kept her seated.

Or maybe she should just … flee.

“God knows I’m not ashamed of my sexuality,” she offered as she reached for her bag and got to her feet. “And I heartily approve of yours. But let’s not do this, okay? Okay. Good chat.”

“See you round, Mia.”

Mia. Mine. My beloved.

C
utter couldn’t sleep.
The boat rocked beneath him, the motion just enough to reassure him there was water beneath the frame of the cabin cruiser his family kept moored at the marina. He had to be up at one a.m. anyway; he was trawling for fish tonight and it hadn’t made sense to go back to his houseboat upriver and settle in. It wasn’t as if anyone was waiting for him.

So he went where he always went when he wanted to think, and if Eli and Zoey—who lived in the newly renovated apartment above the boatshed—had seen Cutter slink in and make his way to the nearest family-owned boat with a berth in it, at least they’d had the sense to leave him alone.

He’d woken this morning as the oldest of three brothers. A fisherman, descended from a long line of fishermen, and proud of it. The physicality of this lifestyle suited him, the challenge enlivened him, and the occasional danger made life all the more appealing. There were women, and plenty of them, because Cutter had been blessed with the kind of rugged good looks and body that kept them coming. He had swagger that came with confidence in his ability to deliver whatever was expected of him.

A payload of fish or a steady hand in gale-force winds. A knowledge of these waters that rivaled his grandfather’s. Unexpected patience with the kids he taught surf lifesaving skills. Laughter with his brothers and his deckhands—provided they went about the business he commanded with competence. Women did not complain of him.