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Chapter 1
Elijah Crane
“Well,I didn’t know I’d be hosting this year, maybe that’s why I’m crabby.” Eli fussed with his bowtie before grimacing at his wife’s reflection behind him in the bathroom mirror. Isa wore her usual bemused expression on a face so beautiful it still hurt a little to look at her. It hurt because of how close his bumbling had come to losing her.
Thank God she was as stubborn as he was.
“You’re crabby every day. It’s what I love about you.” She dragged her fingernails over his crisp white shirt and smiled. She wore a slinky, sequined black gown that accentuated her voluptuous figure and made his mouth water. Her beauty had always contrasted his “beast” nicely.
“How much time do we have?” His eyes feasted on the low V-neck, danced around her luscious hips and jerked back to whiskey-colored eyes he couldn’t get enough of.
“Don’t even think about it. Your family is due to arrive any minute.”
“Why are we dressed like this if everyone is coming here?” His warehouse was more rustic and comfortable than formal. His frown returned, but only so that his wife would tut at his tone.
“You know why.”
He’d been the last to know—or at least he felt like it.
“Tag ruins everything.” He turned to face her, but some of the bite went out of his tone when his hands found her supple hips. Fingers digging into the dress’s material, he growled, “I’d like to take you out of this dress.”
Her pupils dilated, full lips opening to suck in a breath. That was his Sable. Still in love with him, still turned on by him—and he hated to admit it, but he was the tiniest bit surprised. Good things didn’t last. Not for him. Not usually. Yet here he was, Isabella Crane sharing his last name after they’d married this past summer. Sharing his home despite having nearly botched their relationship altogether for behaving like a jackass. And sharing his bed every single night since. Naked or not, he didn’t care. He just wanted her here. With him. Always.
He dropped his forehead onto hers and breathed in the soft fragrance of her perfume—an early Christmas gift. As per their own tradition, they were allowed to open one gift on Christmas Eve from each other. She’d loved the delicately shaped bottle and had spritzed it on as soon as she’d torn open the package. He’d chosen a random gift from under the tree, pleased to find a black ceramic ashtray with four divots for cigars on the odd night his brothers and father indulged in a smoke on the rooftop. It was her way of giving him permission and he loved her for it.
Hell, he loved her for everything she did for him—not only the gifts, not only the company, not only the fact that she had organized grocery lists on the fridge and a notebook in every room with bullet-pointed lists—but because she was here and her presence meant everything to a man who never dreamed he’d have a woman stay close, let alone marry him.
“Have I told you I loved you today?” He closed his eyes and inhaled her essence again.
“Yes,” Isa whispered, her fingers gliding over his trimmed, full beard. Whenever she did that it sent tingles down his spine and straight to his balls. His dick gave a mournful twitch.
Not now.
“But if you want to tell me again, don’t let me stop you.” She moved those wandering fingers to his hair and tickled his skull through hair in need of a trim. Eli opened his eyes and moved in for a taste of the mouth he’d never tire of kissing.
The kiss started sweet, turned deep, and in a heartbeat they were clinging to each other like the silver icicles they’d draped over the Christmas tree. When they’d put the damn thing up, he would’ve sworn more tinsel had been hanging from his limbs than the tree’s. Isa had laughed, and he’d slotted that moment into his memory, taking a mental snapshot in case he would need it later. Nothing lasted forever, but where Isa was concerned he was determined to make it endure—and help it grow—for as long as humanly possible.
As if the universe was content to prove Eli’s belief that “nothing lasted forever,” the sound of his large metal door sliding aside interrupted their kiss. His youngest brother’s “Yo!” punctuated the air as he entered Eli’s sanctuary in his usual bull-in-a-China-shop manner.
“Tag’s here,” Isa breathed as Eli tongued her racing pulse on the side of her neck.
“Don’t care.”
“He’ll see,” she said on a giggle.
“Shut the door.”
“We’re in the bathroom.” Her breathy sigh caused his enlarging member to jerk again and this time he pressed his hips against hers.
“What’s up bro—oh.” Tag sounded mildly alarmed as he spotted them. Eli reluctantly raised his head as Isa straightened her dress. “Sorry, E. Didn’t meant to interrupt your snogging.”
“Yes, you did.” Eli released his wife and brushed by his gargantuan six-foot, five-inch brother and strode into the hall. “I blame you for everything.”
“We said four o’clock.” Tag said in his defense, not that he was the least bit defensive. The man was like a lazy cat most days. Problems slid effortlessly off his broad, Teflon-coated back.
“Merry Christmas, Rachel.” Eli nodded his greeting to Tag’s fiancée. She and Tag had been engaged going on two years now, which was so like Tag it wasn’t funny. He’d regaled the tale of his proposal via a bottle of sand in this very warehouse and at a time Eli had been licking a pretty nasty wound in regards to Isabella Sawyer. But he’d since extracted his head from his ass, whereas Tag’s took up permanent residence in his own.
Well, until today.
