McDonald_SS_GEN_Nov2014 (2 page)

David went to his desk, twirled the chair to face the computer, and sat to do his research. “I am going to marry Kendra—eventually. I’m just not ready to get married yet.”

“Your non-committed relationship almost outlasted my service in the Marines. How can you not be ready after five years of dating her and three more years of living together? Define ready, David. Do you realize Kendra’s been dating other men since you broke up? I’ve never seen her so hurt.”

Megan studied her brother’s clenched jaw—yeah, he knew about the other guys. But David didn’t act like he knew. And Kendra thought he didn’t care because her stupid brother was pretending not to care. Men were so dumb sometimes.

“Let her date. It doesn’t change anything,” David declared.

“Going to dinner is nothing serious, but Kendra is actively trying to get over you. If someone nicer and less trouble comes along, one of those new relationships might actually take. You’re always so worried about me, yet you’re the one with the big problem. You’ve got a stick up your butt about not being good enough for your own, long-time girlfriend who has always adored you.”

“Stop changing the subject. I’m not concerned about Kendra. Are you wearing the slutty Mrs. Santa outfit or not? I need to call Crystal if you’re not going to do it.”

“You are such a pain,” Megan declared.

She tossed down the outfit and flopped on the hard couch David kept in his office. She landed on the bad area of her still healing leg and swore. Heat flooded her face when her brother’s sympathetic gaze sought hers.

“How much pain are you in?” David demanded. “I’m asking as your brother, not your damn boss.”

“I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that. I just. . .landed wrong. It only hurts if I fall on where they put the freaking pin in the bone. I can run, jump, and move just fine. You’ve seen me. You know I can.”

“I still can’t believe you got hurt so bad,” David grumbled. “I don’t know why you joined the Marines right out of high school. It’s not like you didn’t have options. You could have gone to college like I did. Your grades were fine.”

Megan shrugged. “I didn’t have any goals requiring more education. During my original enlistment, I found I liked being in the Marines. They didn’t care if I wore my hair pulled back and liked to get dirty. It was a great life while it lasted and I was planning to make it a career until that stupid sniper got me. Bet I was the last target he ever hit though. I took out his trigger hand—if not the rest of him. Can’t believe I let that SOB tag me so hard right there in the middle of the base.”

“Are you hearing yourself? You’ve been out of the service for almost nine months and you still talk like a man. You’d make a perfect dyke, Megan. If you’re not going to date, maybe you should give swinging to the other side some serious thought.”

“Stop calling me names, you non-committing weenie. If you call Kendra and admit you’re jealous, I’ll wear your slutty Mrs. Santa suit while I guard St. Nick. Just know your smartypants best friend’s eyes are going to pop out of his little geeky head when he sees me in it. Being in the Marines gave me an ass that stops men in their tracks.”

David huffed. “Oh yeah? Does it match the one on your head?”

Megan snorted. “You and your weak-ass insults. I’m out of here.”

“Fine. Go. Good riddance, Tomboy,” David declared, calling her the name he always called her when she was acting too much like a guy.

Then he remembered the point of their debate.

“Wait, Megan. Don’t leave yet. I’ll call Kendra tonight. I was going to anyway. Take the Mrs. Santa suit with you because you may need Mom’s help to alter it to fit. Buy matching red tights and a pair of comfortable black boots in case you have to run.”

Megan stuffed the dangling edges of the red velvet and fur back into the box and stomped out of the door with the box in her arms. She didn’t want the rest of David’s employees seeing her with the stupid thing until she had to put it on.

***

“The color is nice, but it almost doesn’t fit.”

Megan sighed as she turned and saw her mother eyeing her curvy body encased in red velvet and fur. “What do you mean ‘almost’? I had to buy yoga shorts to wear over the tights under it because you could see my woo-woo with every swish of this twirly skirt.” She spun slowly to demonstrate.

“Your
woo-woo
?”

Megan snorted. “Yes, Mom. My woo-woo. You’re my mother. Don’t make me explain my code names.” Her mother’s husky laughter had her grinning back.

She tugged at the white fur, and the thankfully stretchy top, away from her breasts so she could adjust her ample girly parts inside it for a better fit. All her efforts did was pop her breasts out of the white fur more and let them be tickled. She snorted at the pleasurable stroking sensation and rolled her eyes. Her brother David was going to pay, and pay big for making her wear something so revealing.

Worse, she knew a real interrogation was coming the moment her mother started hiding her smile behind her hand.

“Is the sexy outfit for a Christmas costume party? And if so—who’s the lucky Santa?”

Megan laughed out loud at her mother’s questions while cupping her velvet and fur covered boobs. The questions cleverly masked Ann Lynx’s maternal hope that her tomboy daughter had finally found a man.

“Do you think I’d actually date someone with kinky Santa fantasies?” she asked back, shamelessly earning another laugh. Her mother’s sense of humor was keen. She and David had both become wicked smart-asses because of it.

“Let me see if I can make a better guess then. David is making you wear the nearly naked suit to guard Nicolas in the Christmas parade this weekend. The Cincinnati Enquirer ran an article when he was chosen for master of ceremonies. It was about all the money Nicolas has raised for his father’s children’s charity. I’m glad Crystal isn’t guarding him. The woman is nice, but gets silly around good looking men.”

Her mother raised her eyebrow when she swung a shocked gaze her way, but frankly she had been surprised by her Mom’s accurate answer. “Wow, Mom. You’re more in the know than I am, and I’m guarding him.”

“Didn’t you think your brother would tell me about the stalker? He knows I like Nicolas—always have. Who on earth would have any reason to shoot at him?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t even seen Nicolas since I’ve been home, but that’s about to change. Is St. Nick still as geeky as he used to be?”

“You answer first. Am I right about David making you wear those clothes?”

“Yes. The outfit is David’s idea of creating a distraction.”

Megan grinned at her mother’s husky laugh.

“Well, it certainly is that. And the answer to your question is ‘yes’. Nicolas is still geeky, but has filled out into a man quite nicely. Now I’m not suggesting anything, so don’t start blasting me for saying he’s turned out well. I know he’s probably not your type, but evidently he’s someone’s type. The man never lacks for female attention. . .when he wants it. . .which doesn’t seem to be often if what David reports is true. There was a time when they were in college when I thought Nicolas might not like girls at all.”

“Great. First David accuses me of being a lesbian. Now you think Nicolas is gay. What is with everyone’s assumptions these days? Not dating does not mean you’re sexually confused about your orientation.”

Megan turned because her mother was too adept at reading her expressions. Still—she couldn’t help but defend the man’s masculinity. Maybe she was defending both of them.

“Nicolas likes girls, Mom. Trust me—I know this for a fact.”

When her mother raised an eyebrow, Megan swore under her breath.

“I see. Am I allowed to ask
how
you know for sure that Nicolas likes girls?”

“Of course you can ask. You’re my mother. You can
ask
me anything,” Megan replied innocently.

Before really answering, she twirled her red-suited body in the mirror again, finally satisfied about what could be seen—and not seen as she moved.

“But. . .if I tell you
how
I know for certain, you’ll eventually slip up and tell David who will razz me without mercy. Then I would have to hurt my own mother. That would definitely not please my VA counselor who has already stamped my shrink exam and declared me as
normal
.”

Megan snickered when her mother fisted one hand on her hip as she glared over the threat.

“Megan Lynx—I know you’re a hard-ass Marine after eight years, but you should still be kissing the feet of an amazing woman like me. Who taught you how to jump up on the merry-go-round after you got it running faster than any of the boys could make it go? Don’t you think I have earned some slack for expressing idle curiosity about my daughter’s secret love life?”

Megan giggled. Her mother and Kendra were the only females who had ever understood her. . .and accepted her just as she was.

“Okay,
Amazing Woman
. You win. But if you ever tell David, I swear I’m never sharing another thing with you. Geeky Nicolas was my first kiss. He was also my introduction to what happens when a guy gets physically interested in you. St. Nick and I stopped with the kiss, but I never forgot it. He kissed well. . .for a geek.”

Megan sighed when her mother crossed her arms and grinned. Now she’d have two people teasing her over her lack of a love life.

“Fascinating. Was the kiss Nicolas’s idea or yours?”

Shaking her head at the futility of dodging the rest of her mother’s questions, Megan grinned back.

“Mine, of course. I wanted to get my stupid first kiss over with so David would stop teasing me. Nicolas was twenty at the time, but he was still the safest man I knew to ask. It took me like an hour to talk him into it, but it ended up being worth it. It was a great first kiss. What? Why are smiling like that, Mom?”

“Honey, you might want to think twice before you ask the older version of Nicolas for any similar favors. I think the eight years you were away might have made the man a little less safe.”

Megan’s genuine laughter filled up the room. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not in need of any more favors from Nicolas. Besides. . .I’m used to Marines. If I can deal with those macho men making passes, I’m sure I can deal with anything St. Nick might dish out.”

“Okay. But remember, Megan, Nicolas playing Santa in a parade doesn’t mean he’s
really
St. Nick like you call him. I’m just saying he might not live up to his nickname next time you ask for a kiss.”

“Lame warning, Mom. . .really lame warning. . .and totally not necessary. I have no intentions of asking St. Nick something so embarrassing again. For heaven's sake,” Megan exclaimed.

She frowned when her mother shrugged her shoulders.

“If you say so, Megan. All I’m saying is you better stay off Santa’s lap or you both might find yourselves on the naughty list this year.”

Megan rolled her eyes and sighed. “This is why I never told you. Nothing between us ever went in any sort of serious direction. Neither Nicolas or I ever mentioned our kiss again after that day—I mean like
ever
. The kiss was just one of those crazy high school things you do and laugh about later in life. Nicolas is thirty. I’m twenty-six. I’m sure I’m just David’s younger sister to him now. I suppose after I keep his ass from getting shot, we might become a little more intimate. Who knows? I may end up being as good a friend to him as David is.”

She could tell her mother was stifling other warnings she wanted to offer. In the end, the woman who looked just like her, merely smiled and waved as she left.

“Mom—I know what your ‘we’ll see’ look means—but you’re wrong this time. You can stop worrying,” Megan declared, raising her voice as her mother walked farther away.

Looking at her outfit in the mirror once more, she shook her head at the silliness of her mother’s warnings. She was glad now she hadn’t told her mother how the memory of her first kiss had been what kept her mentally calm during her time in the Afghan desert—for all three tours.

A whole decade had passed since that innocent moment between Nicolas and her. While she maintained some idealized admiration for the man, they had each lived very different lives during those years she had served in the military. The idea of the two of them hooking up was fantasy worthy, but not likely in reality. Her embarrassment to still be thinking of their kiss was the primary reason she’d avoided him since her return.

In her mind, it was no one’s business but hers that sex dreams of St. Nick were her own personal version of therapy for the mild case of post-traumatic stress her doctor had determined she had after the shooting. She for sure wasn’t ready to sacrifice those comforting dreams to the reality of dealing with a man who had probably forgotten her long ago.

Unfortunately, there was no getting around having to see him in person during the next few weeks. Today she had promised her brother she would guard Nicolas with her life.

Nicolas waited nervously in his office, one hand in his pocket. It was bad enough he had to have a bodyguard, but it was worse having his friends involved in the situation. But he’d had to ask David for help because the police didn’t have any clues.

His troubled gaze couldn’t fully appreciate the rich cherry furniture which gleamed warmly from the constant polishing his office manager insisted on doing each week. The soothing ambiance his father had meticulously created in this room was completely lost on him today. Thinking of his responsibilities to the four hundred and sixty-three people who worked for his father’s company created the all-too-familiar knot of tension in his gut.

Back when his father had first gotten sick, he’d been busy finishing his doctorate, but his brain had shifted into some split-mind mode allowing him to learn the business at the same time. Daily worry hadn’t started visiting until after the first time his stalker shot at him. That close call had painfully introduced him to the concept of his own mortality. It also had him wondering what would happen to all the people in his company if something happened to him. The second attempt had come after David’s guards had started seeing to his safety. But now he was like a prisoner in his own life.