How the Hitman Stole Christmas - Sam Mariano Page 0,41
someone’s a big baseball fan.”
Nora glances back at me, then her gaze flickers to the uniforms hanging on the wall. She makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Oh, yeah. Tom’s a retired player for… the Twins, I think? I’m not sure, I don’t know baseball, but yeah. Don’t worry, when you meet him, he’ll tell you all about the glory years.”
Fantastic.
Nothing I enjoy more than getting to know yet another of Mom’s temporary husbands.
“What do you think of him?” I ask her, since I haven’t met the guy yet. “Does he seem all right? Treat her like he should?”
“I don’t especially like him, but when do I ever like Mom’s husbands?” she tosses back. “I don’t even think Mom likes him, to be honest, I think he’s just the richest guy who’s ever been into her.”
That’s pretty much what I figured when I pulled in and saw this place, but having Nora agree with that hasty assessment feels like confirmation.
Nora seems to realize how this must sound to an outsider. She looks back at Autumn. “You must think I’m a terrible gossip.”
Autumn’s eyes widen. “No, I wasn’t thinking that at all.”
“Tell me some of your family drama, make me feel better for bitching about mine.”
Autumn cracks a smile, but it’s a small one. “No family drama to speak of. I’m an only child and an orphan to boot, so…”
“Oh, shit.” Nora grimaces. “I’m sorry, that’s… I don’t even know what to say.”
“Maybe we don’t have to talk about that,” I suggest.
“Right, sorry,” Nora says quickly, just as she steps into another room. “Well, we’re here, anyway.”
The bedroom is standard, but spacious—roughly the size of the motel room we stayed in last night.
There’s an attached bathroom with a nice, big shower. It has glass walls so you can see right through. There’s a whirlpool tub big enough for two, and his and her sinks with plenty of counter space.
It’s a nice bathroom, but it has something I don’t expect to see in a bathroom, too—a window seat.
Nora peeks her head in. “If you guys need towels or anything, there’s a linen closet right across the hall from your bedroom.”
I don’t need towels, I need a drink.
Autumn might need a towel. And a shower.
I gave her privacy to shower last night even thinking she’d run if she got the chance. I don’t think that tonight, but right now there’s nothing I’d like more than to pour myself a whiskey neat, sit in that window seat, and watch Autumn take off her clothes.
That’s what I’m gonna do.
Mind made up, I tell my sister we need a little time to settle in, and I tell Autumn to sit on the bed and stay put. She obeys me even though she looks a bit confused by her own acquiescence as I leave the room.
We left the pie and my bag in the car when we came inside, so I go out and fetch them. I don’t dally, though. I hand the pie off to Nora to deal with and head back downstairs with single-minded focus.
My pretty, captive girlfriend is still sitting on the bed when I come back in. She hasn’t moved an inch. I can see her in my mind’s eye while I was gone, sitting there anxious and unsure, but following my orders nonetheless.
Good girl.
I drop my bag on a chair in the corner and walk back out. Our bedroom is right off the billiards room which, as it happens, has a wet bar for entertaining. That’s fucking perfect. I pour myself a drink from the top shelf and head back to our bedroom, closing the door behind me.
“Is everything okay?” Autumn asks, watching me curiously from her perch on the edge of the bed.
“Mm-hmm.” I nod once, my gaze locked on her face as I take a sip. “Are you thirsty?”
She shakes her head, her gaze bouncing almost nervously from my drink to my face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem—”
I move closer until I can reach out my free hand and cradle her face in it. “I seem…?”
Her gaze remains fixed on mine, her big blue eyes shining with a mix of uncertainty and anticipation. “I don’t know,” she says softly.
Everything about her softens when she’s unsure of herself. Her lovely features, the pitch of her voice, but it’s her eyes that get me. The softness in her eyes, the vulnerability glinting there. It’s like a drug I want to inject straight into my veins.