A Very Badd Christmas (The Badd Brothers #19)

5. Emerson

CHAPTER 5

emerson

H ayden stood at the foot of the porch, looking uncomfortable. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "I meant, like, buy one. At a store."

I went back down the steps, grabbed his hand, and pulled him up. "I'm sure. Duncan and Dane are both around your same height and build. They both have, like, a dozen good suits. They're both in sports, and their coaches make them wear suits on game days. I promise you, they won't notice one missing. And you can bring it back when you're done. It’s really no big deal."

"When I was in high school, the athletes just had to wear slacks and button-downs with a tie on game days." He went up the steps with me but still seemed very hesitant.

“Yeah, well, their coaches are extra. And Dunc and Dane are captains, so they have to step up." I snorted and rolled my eyes. "But really, they just like wearing suits. They're divas like that. They spend an hour preening in front of the mirror, asking each other if they look dapper in horrible British accents.”

Hayden spluttered a laugh. "They sound like real characters."

“You have no idea.” I pushed open the door and dragged him in behind me; as the door opened, a wall of noise hit. I may have forgotten to warn Hayden that an informal get-together was happening.

See, on top of the planned and scheduled parties, throughout the holiday season, people would just sort of collect at someone's house, and then a scouting party would be sent to grab a keg from one of the bars and a tower of pizzas would be ordered, and word would get out and suddenly the impromptu party would bleed into the planned one.

This was an impromptu one.

Hayden halted just inside the threshold, jolting me to a stop. "Holy shit. People."

I laughed. "Yeah, there's a lot of Badds."

"You didn't mention it would be a family reunion." I turned and looked at him—he was wide-eyed and a little green around the gills.

"Hey, are you okay? It's not a reunion, they all live around here. It's just a hangout."

"A hangout? Like there's like fifty people!"

I scanned the group, doing a quick count. "Looks like about half the clan."

" Half ? Jesus crickets."

I snorted so hard I choked on my spit. "Jesus crickets?"

He closed his eyes slowly, embarrassed. "Mom says Jiminy Cricket instead of Jesus Christ. To tease her, I started saying Jesus crickets, and now I can't stop."

"Sounds like you need a support group." I tugged him toward the kitchen where the crew was gathered, playing some sort of rowdy drinking card game that involved a lot of shouting, taking shots, and throwing cards across the island at each other. "Come on."

"Emerson…" he started.

By then, we were in the kitchen, and Uncle Bax had spotted us.

"Emmy-Lou, my sweet Sunni-girl!" he barged around the island, arms wide, scooping me up in a bear hug, damn near crushing me against his anvil-hard chest with his pythonic arms. "Been a minute, darlin'. Saw the game. You kicked ass!"

"Thanks, Uncle Bax," I wheezed, my feet dangling half a foot off the ground. "Crushing, crushing!”

"Oops." He set me down and popped a kiss on the top of my head. "Who's he?” His gaze went to a wide-eyed, slack-jawed Hayden. “Who are you?"

I grabbed Hayden and pulled him forward. "Uncle Baxter, this is my friend Hayden. We just met, what, an hour ago?"

Bax's eyebrows went up. "Very interesting move, Sunni. I approve."

I shoved his chest—it was like pushing an aircraft carrier. "Oh shut up, you big lunk. It's not like that."

He just cackled. "Just teasin', just teasin'. So, what brings you to Chez Badd, Hayden?"

“Um. Emerson?"

God, he was awkward. It was fucking adorable—hot, even. Well, he was hot. The awkwardness was adorable. Therefore, hot awkwardness. Hawkward? Hot-kward?

Hayden was taller than Uncle Bax, standing at least six-two, and was lean with corded forearms and big hands. His hair was jet black, glossy as a raven's wing, longish and messy in an absent-minded way, curling around his ears and temples and the back of his neck. His eyes were holly-leaf green, a few shades darker than my own. He wore a cranberry button-down tucked into fitted black jeans and newer black Nike sneakers. A black leather bomber jacket with a fur collar completed the look. The arm of a pair of glasses hung outside the pocket of his shirt, and I had a mental image of him wearing the glasses, looking like Clark Kent. I swooned a little on the inside.

Bax laughed. "Literal one, ain'tcha? Want a beer?"

"Oh, um?" He looked at me, then at Uncle Bax. "I…we were just…I need a suit, and this was where Emerson brought me."

Bax blinked. “Cool. So…yes beer, or no beer?"

"Yes beer?" Hayden scrubbed a hand through his hair and shrugged his shoulders. "Please. Thank you."

"Comin' right up. I hope you like IPAs because my dipshit brother decided to bring a keg of pine sap instead of real beer." He went around the island, flipped a Solo cup off a stack, tossed it in the air, bounced it off the back of his hand and caught it, and then squirted in beer from a keg.

I leaned in close to Hayden. "You good? You seem…I dunno."

He swallowed hard. "I um…I have the world's worst case of social anxiety. I'm fine in a crowd, like at a bar or concert where I don’t know anyone and don’t have to interact, but at parties where I have to talk to people, I turn into a tongue-tied caveman."

Come to think of it, he did look like he was about to puke.

I rubbed his shoulder. "Hey, breathe. It's cool. They're my family. Unofficially, but for real."

"That guy looks like he could rip my arm off and beat me with it," he said.

"Oh, he could. He used to be an MMA fighter, and now he's a trainer. Well…he trains the top-tier fighters these days and owns a chain of gyms all over the Pacific Northwest." Bax brought over two beers and handed them to us, and I leaned against him. "But despite his intimidating appearance, Uncle Bax is a teddy bear. Right, Uncle Bax?"

He grinned, tugging on one of my ringlets. "Oh yeah, I'm harmless. Long as you take good care of my Sunni-girl. She's real special, hear me? I wouldn't wanna have to pull your kidney out through your dickhole because you upset her, know what I mean?"

I reared back and smacked his shoulder, hard. "Bax! He's not used to this many people. Don’t be a dick."

Bax chortled, clapping Hayden on the shoulder. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

Hayden faked a laugh, looking unsure whether Bax was joking.

"Yo, Badds! C’mere. Our girl brought a dude. Come say hi." Bax wrapped an arm around Hayden's shoulders and guided him into the fray.

Within seconds, Hayden was surrounded by Badd men, as Bast, Brock, Lucian, and Xavier heard and answered the call. There were handshakes and an overlapping slew of personal questions—what do you do? Cybersecurity. Where'd you go to school? Purdue. Got any tattoos? No. What kind of car do you drive? An Eighty-seven Grand Wagoneer. Play any sports? No.

He handled it like a champ despite the barrage of questions, and soon, he was being taught the card game, which was a Badd family original wherein the rules changed every time you played and largely didn't matter in the first place since it was mainly an excuse to drink and be loud and insult each other.

Before long, Hayden was laughing and getting the hang of it, although he avoided the insults part of the game, which was too bad because that's the whole point of the game, which we call Howlers.

I got into it, too, of course, and was hurling insults and throwing back shots and whipping cards at cousins, aunts, and uncles. Hayden and I kept finding excuses to bump into each other, and I grabbed his arm a couple of times as I ducked behind him to dodge a thrown card. And let me tell you, for a computers guy, he's got some guns .

About an hour in, he grabbed his phone from his pocket, glanced at it, winced, and whipped off a text message.

He leaned close to me. "I really gotta go, Emerson. The dinner starts in an hour and I still don't have anything to wear."

"Shit!" I shouted, throwing down my hand of cards. "I forgot! Come on." On the way past Duncan, I smacked him on the back of the head. "I'm loaning Hayden one of your suits, Dunc. Cool?"

Dunc snagged one of my curls with a sharp yank. “Yeah, for sure." He glanced at Hayden with an assessing look. "The slate one would look good on him."

“Thanks, bub!" I sang, hauling Hayden by the hand down the long hallway off the kitchen along the back of the house.

My room was first, then Dane’s, and then Duncan’s on the end; Bast’s and Dru's suite was on the opposite side of the house by itself.

Dunc's room was open and as neat as always, unlike mine and Dane's rooms. I went to his closet, flipping through until I found the slate suit, and held it up to Hayden.

"Yup, he's right. This'll look hot on you." I hadn't meant to say that out loud. Me and my mouth.

I pushed his jacket off and tossed it on the bed, then went back to the closet for a white button-down and a sapphire tie.

I'm a doer, okay? I fixate on something and get it done. And I was fixated on getting Hayden ready to go to the fancy dinner with his mom.

Which is why I started unbuttoning his shirt. I wasn’t thinking.

"Uhhh…" he very gently grabbed my wrists. "I can, you know, dress myself."

I looked up at him and saw humor in his eyes…along with something a whole hell of a lot more potent. As if he'd had to make himself stop me from stripping him down in my adopted brother's room, with my entire family a few feet away.

“Yeah, um…of course." I stepped back, my cheeks flaming. "Sorry. I, um…" For once, words utterly failed me. "Sorry?"

He smiled, and it was soft, and kind, and intriguing, and sexy as hell. "Your family is incredible. I'm a total stranger and they just…" he shook his head. "Pulled me right in."

"That's the Badd way," I said. "It's just what they do. It's why I'm here."

"You'll have to tell me that story, sometime. I'd love to hear it."

His shirt was hanging half-open, revealing well-formed pecs and a hint of washboard abs. His glasses were still in his shirt pocket, and I, unable to control my impulses apparently, took them out and slid them onto his face.

"Hi, Clark, I'm Lois," I said, grinning like a dork.

He even had a little curl of hair on his forehead. My lady bits were suggesting some very inappropriate ideas to the rest of me.

"I'm no Superman," he said.

I shrugged, ignoring the fact that my fingers, the traitors, had decided to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way. Because abs. "You could be. You've got the look down."

He blinked at me, and I could see his processors working overtime. "You're fucking gorgeous, and I feel like a bumbling idiot around you," he blurted.

A blast of laughter spurted out of me. "You're anything but a bumbling idiot. I should have warned you there'd be people here."

"I'm an only child, and I've never had a big social circle. It was just a lot. But they're amazing. Loud, but amazing." He swallowed hard, looking down at me without blinking.

His hand lifted, and a single index fingertip ghosted across my cheeks and nose, tracing my freckles. "How can you be cute and sexy at the same time?" He asked, sounding like he wasn't sure if he meant to say it out loud.

I shrugged. "Same way you can be awkward and sexy."

He laughed. "I have awkward down to a science."

My fingers found a groove in his abs—warm skin, hard muscle. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "I like it, but we can't—we shouldn't. Not here, not now." He pinched a curl between his fingers, pulled it straight, let it go. "I just can't seem to stop."

"Get dressed. I'll bring you to the marina.” I stepped back, even though everything inside me wanted to push forward.

He stood motionless, abs and chest peeking out in the gap of his open shirt. I felt his eyes on me, lingering on my face, flicking down to my chest and then back up immediately.

"Stop looking at me like that," I whispered.

"Then stop looking like that."

"Like what?"

"Perfect."

Oh. Jesus crickets. What a line. The naughty ideas being put forth by my lady bits became positively sinful. The things I wanted to do to this boy, good lord.

Boy?

He may be awkward and socially anxious, but he was all man, hard and lean and sculpted and fucking gorgeous. And he loved his mama. That was a major plus in my book.

I took another step backward, now mostly in the hallway. "You're dangerous, Hayden McCaffrey."

He shook his head, smirking and snorting. "Far from it."

"That's what makes you so dangerous—you don't realize it."

I pulled the bedroom door shut before my lady bits took the reins.

The moment I hit the kitchen, I was swarmed by aunts and cousins.

Claire grabbed my shoulders. "Who was that ?”

"His name's Hayden. I met him at Badd Kitty. He's on a cruise with his mom."

Confused silence.

"His mom ?” This was from Mara, her fine blonde hair shot through with gray at the temples, wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, her usual minimal makeup accentuating her beautiful features.

"Explanations are in order," Mama Dru said.

"His father just died right before Thanksgiving. The cruise was already paid for, so he went with his mom, so she didn't have to go alone or give up the tickets. So she would be able to have fun again." I paused for effect. "He gets seasick."

"Well, a cruise ship is barely a boat when it comes to seasickness, but still." This is Aunt Joss, Uncle Lucian's wife, a stunning woman with light brown skin and dreadlocks pulled back with a thick length of braided leather ending in dozens of small brightly colored beads.

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard," Dru said. "But why did you bring him here if you just met him? I mean, it's fine, but it's not like you."

I didn’t bring boys home. I never have. Mainly because the only boys I spent time with were at school, and they weren't boyfriends, they were hookups. Hayden is the only guy I've ever brought here.

And I didn’t have an answer. Or, not a good one. "I, um…he has a fancy formal dinner and a dance with his mom and forgot to pack a suit. He'd never find anything good around here, not in time, and he's the same height and build as Dunc. I figured he could borrow one. It's not a big deal."

Dru pinched my cheek. "Then why are you all glowy?" She smirked at me knowingly.

"I'm not glowy. It's just warm in here." I batted her hand away.

Lena, one of Uncle Canaan’s and Aunt Aerie’s four kids, poked me on the top of the nose. "You're catching feelings."

She was the spitting image of her mother, with platinum blonde hair and amber eyes with green streaks around the edges. And, like her mother and aunt before her, she was a model, carefully managed by her mother. I doubted she'd do it much longer, though—I'd heard her complain about it a bunch; she talked about getting behind the camera instead of in front of it.

"I am not." I said this to the ceiling over her left shoulder because I was fairly certain I was lying through my teeth.

Bast pushed into the circle and slung a heavy arm over my shoulder. "You good to drive, Sunni? Brock has a flight later, so he's sober."

My unofficially adoptive father had grown a thick beard since I last saw him—it had more silver than his hair and was neatly trimmed. It smelled like pine and tickled my ear and cheek as he squeezed me against himself in an affectionate side-hug.

I assessed myself and came up with an honest answer. "Actually, that might be a good idea."

"Brock!" Bast yelled. "You're flying Sunni's new boyfriend to the marina."

Brock held his hand up over his head, thumb extended, from where he sat on the couch with his sons Liam and Lennox, watching them play some shoot-’em-up video game.

"He's not my boyfriend!" I said, shoving at Bast's arm. "I just met him."

Bast just laughed. "Okay, honey. Keep telling yourself that. The Badd Family Love Charm has struck again."

"It has not!"

Dru bumped me with her hip. "It has, honey. Better to just accept it and go with it."

Claire, one hand in front of her mouth, which was full of Doritos, shook her head, chewed and swallowed. "No! That's terrible advice! Fighting it and losing is where all the fun is."

Everyone went quiet all of a sudden, and I turned to see why.

My mouth went dry and my lady bits resumed their sinful suggestions.

Hayden in a suit. Oh dear Jesus crickets—that was a heck of an addictive phrase.

It fit him perfectly, the sleeves hugging his arms and shoulders, the trousers clinging to his thighs. He'd wet his hair and slicked it back. He was still wearing his glasses.

Fuck.

Fuck me.

I was speechless. He was so beautiful it was…well, it just wasn't okay. No one should be allowed to be that hot.

"Well that's fucking annoying," Duncan said, breaking the silence. "It looks better on him than it does me."

“Cuz you’re ugly," Dane said. “And also, you're right, it does."

Duncan threw a peanut at his brother, nailing him in the forehead. "Shut up, loser."

I jolted myself out of my stupor and circled the island, stopping in front of him. I reached up and adjusted his tie, straightening and tightening it.

"You look…" I shook my head. “Like James Bond."

"I'm not British."

I laughed. "No? Really? I must have missed that."

He tugged at the sleeves of the jacket. "Also, James Bond wears tuxedos."

I smoothed his tie. "Okay, Mr. Literal. We should go. Uncle Brock is taking us because I've had enough to drink that I don't want to drive."

Brock pushed up off the couch, grabbed a thick sheepskin jacket from the back of the couch, and shrugged it on. "Come on, kids. I'll fly you over."

Hayden frowned. "Fly?"

I jerked a thumb at the windows overlooking the water, where Brock's twin-engine seaplane was tied up at the dock. “He's a pilot."

Hayden nodded. "Okay, then. I've never been on a seaplane before." A blink. "Well, I did the other day with Mom. This would be my second flight."

“Oh, you did the Misty Fjords tour?" Brock asked, preceding us out the back door and onto the deck.

"Yeah, it was amazing. So beautiful around here." He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets against the cold. "The kayaking was fun."

Brock barked a laugh. "Kayaking? In this weather?”

"Right?" Hayden laughed. "There were only a few people interested, and the guy wanted to cancel, but Mom talked him into it. It was a hell of a time, though, despite being cold. She wants to do a whale-watching tour tomorrow."

"I didn’t think those excursions ran in the winter,” he said. “Just the skiing and snowshoeing and all that shit."

"It was only offered by this one guy, I guess. The indoor ones were all sold out, so we picked one that wasn't, for obvious reasons." Hayden held my hand and helped me up into the airplane and then climbed in after me while Brock slid behind the controls.

Hayden fidgeted as we pulled away from the dock, taxied out to open water, and took off. It was a quick hop by air, and Uncle Brock touched down as close to the cruise ship docking area as he could get.

"I left my clothes there," Hayden said, apropos of nothing. "But I'll need to return the suit anyway."

For some reason, that made me feel better because it meant I was guaranteed to see him again.

"Yep," I said. "You'll just have to come by. And maybe bring your mom."

He laughed. "My mom and your family would be…interesting. I don't think she'd know what to make of you all."

For a moment, neither of us said anything; Brock was typing something on his phone and pretending not to hear us.

"I'd better go," Hayden said. "I can't thank you enough for this." He leaned forward, extending his hand toward Uncle Brock. "Mr. Badd, thank you so much for the ride. I appreciate it."

Brock snorted. "Mr. Badd? Jesus, dude. Call me Brock. And you're welcome."

They shook hands, and Hayden turned to me, seeming unsure how to handle the goodbye. Shake my hand? Hug me? Wave?

"I'll see you soon, Emerson. Thank you again for everything. And thank your brother for me. I forgot to and feel kind of like an ass about it."

Then, abruptly, he leaned forward and pulled me into a hug. "I feel like I've known you longer than a couple hours," he murmured in my ear, pulling away slowly.

"Me too," I whispered back. "Go dance with your mom, James Bond."

He shot me a grin that made my stomach do somersaults and my thong melt away. And then he was gone, jogging across the marina.

He was still wearing his sneakers, which should have looked weird with the suit but somehow didn't.

Brock arched an eyebrow at me as I crawled forward into the seat beside him. "For someone who never brings home strays, you sure picked an interesting one for your first time."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Shut up, Uncle B. He's not a stray. It was an impulse thing. I couldn't let him let his mother down."

Brock just laughed. "Keep telling yourself that, Sunni-girl."

It was attraction, nothing more. Pure, unadulterated lust. He was hot and sexy and absolutely nothing like the guys I usually hooked up with in pretty much every way there was. I wanted to do bad things to him before he went back to Indiana with his mom.

That's all there was to it.

Seriously.

He had a life, I had a life, and they were nowhere near each other.

And besides, I'm not officially a Badd, so the Badd Family Love Charm didn't apply to me.

I put Hayden firmly out of my mind as we returned to the house, and I got back into the fun and games. I tuned out my heart, told my perpetually horny lady bits to shut up and take a nap, and focused on spending quality time with my family.

I didn't think about Hayden McCaffrey even once the rest of the night.

I won't go into the dream I had, but that's a different story.