The Broody Brit for Christmas (Holiday Springs #1) - M.J. Fields Page 0,28
see a wicked grin grace his face.
“Try not to scare her, for fuck’s sake. You look like the goddamn big bad wolf right now, ready to eat her up.”
“I assure you, she’s fully capable of handling my demands.”
Shaking my head, I mumble, “Still putting the cart before the horse, I see.”
He chuckles, and my phone vibrates in my pocket; I reach in and grab it. I hit the text alert and smile as I read it.
917-574-3232
I guess you gave me no other option than to say yes, but if you’re interested in the blonde you and your friend are ogling, please spare me the embarrassment I’ll suffer at the vile behind-the-back banter from all of these soccer moms who want to bed the Brit and his friend. I don’t play that game.
By the way, this is Nikki.
Raff:
Green looks good on you, Red, but you won’t be suffering one bit. I’m not into blondes. See you at eight. I’ll pick you up, just send me your address ~ Rafferty
I look over at her as she receives my message; she shakes her head ever so slightly, but her lips twist up into a cute as hell smile.
I watch as she taps on her phone and look down at mine as I get another text.
917-574-3232
I’ll meet you at your bar. I’d rather not involve my family in this little game.
Raff:
You do realize how small this town is, correct? Would you rather your family hear that we’re dating from someone else, or us?
917-574-3232
8 p.m. your bar, or it’s a no go.
“Is she serious?” Beckett chuckles, reading over my shoulder. I swat at his head, but he pulls back quickly, dodging me.
Out loud but to myself, I reply, “I’m going to go with yes,” before typing out my reply.
One minute late, and I’ll be driving to your doorstep.
“Dad, come on, the game is about to start. We need our coach,” Nathaniel calls from the sidelines. “You, too, Uncle Beckett!”
After the game, Faith took Nathaniel as planned for the entire weekend. It was difficult saying goodbye to him every time he went there for more than a night, but I knew that was a me problem. He loved his family, and they loved him.
After they left the field, Beckett and I discussed a potential business venture.
He had his eyes on a resort in town, and so far wasn’t getting anywhere. “I know it’s barely running, ever since the original owners died. But the son who inherited it, Shepard? I can’t fuckin’ find ‘im.”
“From what I hear from bar gossip, he’s ex-military and wanders from place to place, working at different ranches. He pays his taxes and hasn’t once returned home.”
“He’s sitting on a gold mine,” Beckett huffs. “Natural hot springs, slopes that could easily be groomed, endless possibilities. It would bring this town a hell of a lot more business and steady business at that. Maybe you could talk to some of the locals and see if any know how to get in touch with him?”
“I could try.” I look at my watch.
“This could be good for us,” Beckett calls over his shoulder as he walks to his car.
“I got out of the real estate investment game a long time ago.”
“Might be time to get back in.” He winks. “Unless you’re aiming for poverty now to get little Ms. Nikki in bed.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “When are you heading back to Ireland?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention? I’ll be sticking around—indefinitely.”
Standing at the end of the packed bar, I look at the clock. It’s seven fifty-nine p.m.” and Nikki has a minute to walk through that door before I go knock on hers.
“So.” Nellie slides onto a barstool, leaning forward. “We took bets.”
“Bets?” I pull my phone from my pocket, the time precisely eight o’clock.
“Some thought she’d show up early, some right on time, and me, well, I knew she wouldn’t show up at all.”
A message pops up from Nikki.
“Why’s that?” I lower my gaze, reading the message.
“She left here years ago a mess of a girl, never knowing who she was, hell, I don’t think she’d ever been kissed. Book smart, yes, but zero common sense. Case in point, she stood you up. She came back here that same mess of a girl. Don’t let a good haircut and designer clothes, bought by her rich ex, fool you. I know what’s beneath all that, and it isn’t good.”
“Nellie,” I say as I push my phone in my pocket. “Ask me, why not you.”