Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (3 page)

When she pulls back, she whispers, "Green bean casserole."

I'm instantly confused. "If that's some kind of commentary on my sexual prowess, I'm offended. I just orgasmed the hell out of you, and you hit me with 'green bean casserole'? That's cold, lady."

"Silly man," she says with a smile. "That's what I want to take to your parents' place on Christmas Eve."

I was hoping this sexual diversion would make her forget about that whole plan, but nope. I love that she's trying so hard to impress my family, but she doesn't have to. When we announced our engagement, my mother was so happy she ugly-cried for a full twenty minutes. Dad actually hugged me for a change instead of shaking my hand, and Elissa nearly deafened me with her scream of joy. There's no denying all of the Holts are huge Cassandra Taylor fans.

Of course, after they taste her green bean casserole, that might change.

"I'll help you cook it," I say.
Please, God, let me help. I can't deal with you going solo again. I won't survive.
"I make a great green bean casserole."

She shakes her head. "Thanks, but I have to do this by myself, otherwise I'll feel like a fraud."

I nod. "Okay. But maybe you should have a practice run before next week."

"Sure. You can be my quality control."

If all of her tasting sessions end up with us fucking like this, I'll deal with as much horrible food as she can throw at me. However, I do make a mental note to pick up a couple of bottles of Mylanta and a giant canister label that reads,
SALT!
in neon yellow.

"Anything you need," I say, "I'll be there. Just let me know."

"You're the best," she sighs. "And your dick is magic. Nothing like green bean casserole. More like cucumber salad."

I chuckle as I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom for round two. When I throw her onto the bed and cover her body with mine, I briefly consider warning my family about her cooking before they experience it for themselves. But then I think how much funnier it's going to be to stay quiet and watch their reactions. The image makes me smile.

No matter what happens, I have no doubt that Christmas with Cassie will be an occasion none of us will ever forget.

Cassie

Fifth Avenue

New York City, New York

I laugh as Ethan turns
to me and does his best Robert-de-Niro-as-Santa impersonation.

"Are you talkin' to me?" he says, all furrowed brows and squinty eyes. "Are
you
talkin' to
me
? Where are your parents, kid? They know you're sitting on a strange man's lap? Get outta here. I'm sick of lookin' at ya."

He has the mouth and head tilt down, and considering I've never been much of a De Niro fan, I really shouldn't find it as attractive as I do.

I lean against him and smile as we walk up Fifth Avenue. I'm still getting used to how Manhattan streets look like a scene out of a Christmas card. The windows drip with tinsel, ornaments, and twinkling lights, while carols from Bing to Mariah spill from the doorways. What's more, the light dusting of snow falling around us makes even the dirtiest of alleys seem like pristine winter wonderlands. Throw into the mix the Christmas tree vendors dotted along the way, the smell of chestnuts roasting on every corner, and the movie-star-handsome man at my side, and I feel like I'm in a Hallmark Christmas Movie of the Week.

To counteract my natural clumsiness, I grip Ethan's bicep while he clutches a collection of bags in his other hand. We've pretty much wrapped up our Christmas shopping, but I still haven't found him a present.

Men are always difficult to buy for, and Ethan's no help, because he keeps saying that all he wants is me. Well, that's sweet, but I don't think his parents and sister are going to be too thrilled about him unwrapping lil' ol' Cassandra Taylor in front of them on Christmas Eve.

I need something that shows him, and them, that I love him, while still staying at the G-rated end of the spectrum.

I stumble when Ethan stops suddenly. I follow his gaze to the brightly lit store window beside us and know what's coming.

"Ethan, no."

"Cassie, yes. That one. The white one with the bows. No, wait. The blue. Screw it, get them both. It's not like they're going to survive being worn more than once anyway."

We're in front of the
La Perla
window, and Ethan is staring at all of the silky garments like he's imagining me in all of that hideously overpriced prettiness. Then he gets this intense, feral expression on his face that makes me think he's going tear off my clothes, press me up against the glass, and fuck me right here on the street.

He actually has pushed me up against the window a few times, but so far my clothing has stayed intact. I'm not sure if that has more to do with the cold weather than his self-control, but either way I'm grateful. Ethan's not known for his restraint these days, especially when he gets like this. The expression on his face right now signals we have twenty-minutes, max, to get somewhere private, or risk being arrested for gross public indecency.

I'd like to say I'm able to be the logical, level-headed one in this situation, but that would be a filthy lie. He turns me on so much, he could ask me to go down on him here and now, and I'd risk frostbitten knees to please him. There's nothing hotter than Ethan when he's hanging onto his control by his fingernails. My whole body is on high alert as he clenches his jaw and studies me.

"Pick one," he orders, his voice deep and determined. "Or I'll buy them both."

"Ethan, no. They're too expensive. If you're going to insist on ripping lingerie off me, then we have to buy something that doesn't cost the equivalent of a month's rent."

He's not even listening anymore. He's staring at me and imagining what he's going to do when we get back to my place. Judging from the look on his face, I'm going to be naked for hours.

Tough job, but someone has to do it.

I shift my weight and try to deal with being this aroused in public. "You have to stop looking at me like that," I say and put my hand on his chest. "We can't go home yet. I still have to buy your gift."

"Cassie, I told you –"

"I know, but I'm getting you something, so deal with it. And I really hope you've gotten me something that I can open in front your family without everyone feeling super awkward."

He looks contemplative. "Hmmm. Maybe I'll rethink the crotchless panties." When I slap his arm, he smiles. "Have some faith, woman. Do you think I want my mother knowing how depraved I am when I'm with you? She'd have a fucking stroke. Don't worry, I have a kick-ass parent-friendly present for you. I'll save the edible massage oil and anal beads until we get home."

I drag him away from the window. "Glad to hear it. I haven't even wrapped the giant strap-on I bought to use on you." When all the color drains from his face, I laugh. "Joking. I've totally wrapped it. That enormous box under our tree? That's the Anal Intruder 3000. Nothing but state-of-the-art sodomy for the man I love."

He growls and kisses me. "You're not funny. I hope you know that. And for the record, no strap-ons
.
Ever.
Just the thought of it has my sphincter running for cover." He throws his arm around me. "Now, stop torturing me so we can eat. I'm starving."

"But you ate all that casserole I made for lunch."

He gives me a sideways glance. "Yeah, but that was hours ago. Now I need seventeen steaks and a gallon of beer. A man cannot live on green bean casserole alone, no matter how ..." He clears his throat. "... delicious it is."

He thinks he's fooling me, but he's not. I know my food is terrible, and certainly not up to his high standards, but at least I'm not giving up, no matter how much he wishes I would.

We walk and chat for a while about where we're going to eat. When we pass a bookstore window, a lightbulb goes off in my brain. It reminds me of an amazing book I'd seen in a magazine a while ago. At the time, I was still in my Ethan-Holt-is-the-Devil frame of mind, so I turned the page so violently I ripped the paper. But our situation has changed, and now, it would be the perfect present to give him.

I turn to him. "Why don't you go on ahead to the restaurant? I'll be there in a few minutes. I think I know what to get you."

He leans down and gives me a soft kiss. "Am I going to like it?"

"I think so."

"Is it a certificate for unlimited blow jobs?"

"No."

"Really? You said I'd like it. What I like more than anything is your beautiful mouth wrapped around my big, hard –"

I push him away and laugh. "You're ridiculous. Go. I'll be there soon."

He walks backward and shrugs. "Fine. But don't say I didn't give you any gift ideas. I'm a simple man, Cassie. Easily pleased. When in doubt, go for the BJ. It's an Ethan pleaser, every single time."

I chuckle as I head into the bookstore. Years ago, if someone had told me that Ethan Holt would make me smile until my face ached, I'd have dismissed them as nuts. But now? He's everything I could have ever wanted in a man. My best friend. My rock. My ridiculously hot sex god.

A bell rings above the door as I step inside. It's not one of those giant book/gift/toy superstores. It's small and cramped with shelves, but it's impeccably clean and organized.

There's a woman behind the counter who looks like Betty Grable. Her hair's carefully curled. Bright red lips. She's wearing blue cat-eye glasses and reading a book that's sitting on the counter. As I approach, she glances up. "Hi. May I help you?"

I smile. "I hope so. I saw a book a while ago in a magazine. It was Shakespeare's
Romeo and Juliet
, but it had a really cool cover. Dark with a heart in the middle."

She smiles and nods. "Oh, yeah. I know the one. The company who published it put out all of Willy's most popular works. Great cover art."

She comes out from behind the counter and gestures for me to follow. "I only have a couple left." We're almost at the back of the store when she stops to scan the shelves. "Ah, yeah. Here they are." She pulls out a stack of books and hands them to me.

"Oh, wow. These are amazing." The top book is
Hamlet
, and the cover is a man's face reflected in a shattering mirror.

"The publisher did a great job," the lady says. "Edgy stuff. Sold real well."

She goes quiet as I inspect the stack. The others are
Much Ado About Nothing
and
Macbet
h, but at the bottom of the pile is exactly what I'm after.
Romeo & Juliet
is scrawled in elegant handwriting at the top of the cover, and in the center is an incredible image of a shattering glass heart. It doesn't escape me how perfectly that image sums up Ethan and me. We've both spent time living like we were a collection of broken pieces. These days, we still may rattle when you shake us, but it's safe to say we're more whole together than we ever were apart.

I run my finger over the beautifully imperfect heart and smile. "I'll take it."

"Want that gift-wrapped, sweetie?"

"Yes, please."

I leave feeling smug about how perfect my gift is. I don't mean to be competitive, but there's no way Ethan will find a better present than this. He's going to love it.

By the time I make it to the restaurant, it's packed. I pull off my coat and gloves as the hostess comes over. "Hi. I'm meeting my fiancéee." Yeah, never really getting used to saying that word in relation to Ethan. "He's tall. Dark hair. Probably said something inappropriate to you."

She smiles. "Oh, yeah. I know the one. We're slammed right now, so I told him to wait at the bar, and I'd call him as soon as I had a table ready."

"Thanks."

She directs me down the back, and I smile when I catch Ethan's tall frame leaning on the bar.

As I approach, I see he's talking to a woman. Not unusual. When I'm not around, he gets hit on more than a crash test dummy. It comes with the territory of looking like he does. What is unusual is that I kind of recognize the woman. I wrack my brain to figure out who she is. I'm terrible with names, and if I've met her before, I really don't remember.

I'm a few yards away when she steps closer to Ethan and puts her hand on his chest. It's an intimate move. Not something an acquaintance would do, or even a friend.

Who the hell is this chick?

I stand just behind Ethan's shoulder and clear my throat. "Hey."

They both turn to me, and the woman makes no attempt to hide the head-to-toe assessment she gives me.

"Hey, there you are." Ethan pulls me into his side, and I can feel the tension emanating from him. "Cassie, this is ... uh ... Vanessa."

Vanessa? As in the-skank-who-broke-teenage-Ethan's-heart-by-sleeping-with-his-best-friend? I try not to let my shock show, even though I have a crapload of bitterness with her name on it. She was patient zero for the trust issues that kept the two of us apart for so long.

I've seen her picture, but the woman in front of me is far more glamorous than her teenage self. She's dripping in designer clothing, and her hair and makeup are so perfect, she could go right out and shoot a Dior ad campaign. Meanwhile, I've been walking around in the snow for a few hours and no doubt look like I live out of a dumpster.

I force myself to smile. "Hi, Vanessa. Nice to meet you."

"Vanessa," Ethan says. "This is Cassie Taylor." For once, he doesn't qualify my name with 'my fiancéee' or even 'my girlfriend'.

Dammit, Ethan, if there was ever a time for you to pull your macho possessive bullshit, this is it. Claim me in front of her, for God's sake.

But he doesn't, and so Vanessa gives me one of those sympathetic smiles some women get when they think their ex has traded down.

Screw her.
I resist the urge to grab her perfectly coiffed head and slam it into the bar.

"Cassie, hi. So great to meet the woman who finally tamed this beast." She squeezes Ethan's bicep, and I grind my teeth so hard I think I crack the enamel. "He was just telling me you two are engaged. That's ... sweet."