A Holiday Temptation - Tiffany Patterson Page 0,8

to stare at his profile for too long, I turn to Suzette, giving her a pasted on smile as she continues talking about how excited she is for the holiday season.

A part of me wishes I was as excited as Suzette is for the holidays. But between a grieving mother, an overbearing father who’s still controlling me from his grave, and a work project that’s put me in direct course with the man I meant to avoid, it doesn’t seem like there’s anything to look forward to this holiday season.

Chapter 4

I whip my forest green Mustang into my brother’s driveway, aware that he and his wife are home since both of the garage doors are closed. Typically, the doors are left open when one or the other isn’t home.

It makes sense they’d be here since it’s after seven. I spent the rest of my workday trying to forget the entire morning and afternoon. Well, doing my best to forget one specific person from the morning and afternoon. I failed miserably. It’d been a shit day at work after the employees from Cypress left, and I kept having to redo reports and re-type emails to people after fucking them up the first time around.

Unfortunately, my mind remained preoccupied with Jackie. It’s bad enough that she shows up back into my world after sixteen years. Now, I’m forced to work with her on this project that’s a turning point in my career. And during the holidays, no less.

“Fuck me,” I curse as I slam my chair onto the pavement, just outside of the driver’s seat of my car.

“Be careful with that thing. You know how much a new one of those costs?” Connor yells from his doorway.

I do him the courtesy of tossing him my middle finger and continue setting up my wheelchair before hoisting my body from the driver’s seat to the chair. After locking up my car, I head up the ramp that leads to Connor and Resha’s front door.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” my brother asks, glaring down at me with folded arms.

I’ll admit he makes an imposing figure at six-foot-six and built out of solid muscle. And I, more than anyone, know his strength and glare aren’t just for looks. He’s a trained killer in the fighting ring. At least he used to be. The son of a bitch is retired now.

“Get the hell out of my way. I didn’t come to see you,” I gripe, pushing past him and into the house.

I glance around as I hear Connor shut the door behind me. Their home is spacious and decorated with a warmth that screams Resha, my sister-in-law. It’s the total opposite of most of my brother’s previous homes. The cream and light colors, the spaces filled with plants, and the glass coffee table covered in fashion magazines have Resha’s name written all over it.

This home and its decor are proof that my brother is head over heels for that woman. I never would’ve imagined seeing him living in a place this nicely decorated. Or big. The house stands at around 4,500 square feet, and he likely would’ve gone bigger if Resha wanted.

“Who’s at the— Mark. I thought it was you.” Resha rounds the corner, smiling.

“There he is.” I make my first genuine smile since the Cypress meeting. Extending my arms to my sister-in-law, I say, “Hand him over, sis.”

Resha’s smile broadens as she lowers baby Colin into my arms.

“You better not wake him either with your funky ass attitude,” Connor gripes, coming up from behind me.

I spare him a brief look before peering down at my sleeping nephew. At only six weeks old, he’s pure perfection. His rich, warm toffee coloring speaks to both his mother and his father’s blending skin tones. His heart-shaped mouth is more Resha’s than Connor’s, but when he opens his eyes, anyone can tell he’s an O’Brien through and through.

My brother refused to let Resha name him Connor Jr. He wanted his son to make his way in life, starting with his name. Resha still got what she wanted, sort of. Colin is a derivative of Connor.

“How long has he been asleep?” I ask, still looking down at him.

“He conked out right after I bathed him. About ten minutes ago.”

Connor whistles. “Little dude needed it after the shit explosion he let loose after his last feeding.”

“Connor, language,” Resha insists.

“What? It’s not like he can talk yet.”

She sucks her teeth, and I chuckle at their banter.

“Hey, what’d I say about waking