Christmas Outburst

CHAPTER FOUR

– ZALE –

Why is it, that no matter if you buy them brand-fucking-new, Christmas lights always get tangled? Knots, twisting, bundling, all fucked-up like an unsolvable puzzle. This is why I don’t decorate my damn yard, house, or a damn tree with Christmas lights.

I throw a glare in the direction of my neighbor’s house. It’s all her fault. Yesterday I told her I wouldn’t honor the favor I owed her. This morning, after the shitshow with my ex, made me see reason. Okay, maybe it was the rambling between Reef and Leon about the woman’s food and how they were going back today.

Today is Saturday. They’re over at her place right now eating loaded fries. Which they informed me that this time it’s the version of fries mixed with bacon, onions, cheddar, and ranch dressing. They’re snacking, probably have some of her delicious pie as dessert. All while I’m out here trying to unravel this bundle of Christmas lights.

I hear the roar of a motorcycle and watch Otis, a prospect, coming down the street. Yeah, I might have texted him to get his ass over here and do this shit instead of getting more frustrated by the damn second.

The tangled mess in my hand is opening up and when I turn the bundle it’s back to one tight knot. Motherfucker. I throw the thing down and watch how it ends up in the rear wheel of the prospect’s motorcycle, making the wheel lock up. The prospect ends up faceplanting in my driveway.

I rub a hand over my face while the prospect screams like a little girl who scraped her knees. My neighbor’s front door opens and Reef steps outside.

“What the hell is–” Reef winces. “Oh, dude, didn’t I tell you the Fat Boy was too fuckin’ challenging for you? Damn, it hurts my heart to see it all scratched up.”

“I didn’t do shit.” Otis gets to his feet. “One moment I’m riding, the next I’m flying.”

My mouth stays shut when he looks at the rear wheel. His head whips in my direction and at the same time Nixie appears next to Reef, my kid along with her.

“What the hell,” Otis mutters.

Reef bends over to see what Otis is staring at and then the fucker throws his head back and laughs.

Nixie smacks my VP with a flat hand against his chest. “Stop laughing, one of your guys is hurt.”

My neighbor holds her hand out and says, “Hey there, I’m Nixie. Come on inside so I can get my first aid kid, clean some of those wounds. Are you hungry?”

Great. I call the fucker over to help me and he gets to go inside my neighbor’s house to eat her damn food.

Nixie turns to Leon. “Mind getting the first aid kit for me? It’s in the bathroom underneath the sink. Go on inside, I’ll be right there.”

I mask my surprise when she easily waves my VP to follow my kid and the prospect inside her house before she turns to face me.

“Thanks for making the effort, even if the Christmas lights ended up in the shredder.” Her smile is genuine and it makes her beauty shine even brighter.

Dammit. The way my body reacts to her is an inconvenience I can’t afford. She’s my damn neighbor, and I found out she’s nine years older than me. She doesn’t look forty-five, though. Her character and behavior are very different than the chicks I’ve encountered over the years.

It’s no damn wonder Leon is raving about her. The way she was there for him when his mother showed up, how she handled a shotgun, her food, great pie, chatting, jokes. Shit, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m jealous of my own damn kid for getting to know her.

I clear my throat. “It only shows I should have left well enough alone.”

There’s a mixture of defeat and sadness in her tone when she says, “Yeah, well, don’t we all wish for that at one point or another?” She releases a deep sigh and turns toward her house. “I made enough food, you’re welcome to join us if you’re hungry.”

Hating that I’m the one who put the sadness and defeat in her tone, I reach out and grab her wrist to stop her from slipping away.

I step closer and glance down at her. Warm hazel eyes stare back at me without any judgement. Small lines around her eyes show the life lessons and experience this woman has gathered over time. Nixie might have ten years on the pool of chicks I usually pick up when I feel the need to get off, but the damn woman sure makes my cock stir to life with a vindictive streak.

Her chest rises and falls, causing my gaze to momentarily drop to her stunning rack. All natural, no fake tits to enhance her natural beauty. No, this woman doesn’t give a shit about dressing up to get laid, or catching the attention of a man.

She knew my VP was coming over and yet she’s wearing comfy shit; yoga pants and an oversized hoodie. No trace of makeup, and her hair is up in a bun like she had the last time. Fuck. Without any effort she’s a stunner and in a sexy league of her own.

“Zale,” she whispers letting our gaze lock and hold.

Her pupils dilate when I take another step closer, letting her rack brush against my leather vest. The front of my jeans is getting tight and a sudden burst of lust slides through my veins. The need to taste, fuck, and consume threatens to override my brain.

“Nixie,” I rumble in return.

She licks her bottom lip, pink tongue sliding over the plump flesh and leaving an invitingly wet trail in its wake. I rumble a growl, the will to fight this chemistry sparking between us is fading and all there is left is a raw need to feel this woman wrapped around my cock.

“Found it,” my son yells.

Nixie jumps back and I watch how she places a hand on her chest, blinks a few times to clear the lust from her brain, and states, “Great, I’m coming.”

Her lush ass dashes into the house when I grumble, “Great,” in a sarcastic tone. ’Cause she should be coming, preferably around my cock. Shit. I rub a hand over my face and stroll in after my neighbor, shaking my head and a smile tugging at my mouth.

She mentioned I should enjoy jolly shit to lighten my mood. Well, if she’s the one bringing it to my attention, then who am I not to take her up on the invitation? Especially when I saw my own lust mirrored in her hazel eyes.

The shattering of glass makes me turn when I’m about to step into Nixie’s home. I let my eyes roam over the street, but it’s all quiet and nothing seems out of place. A cat screeches followed by a dog barking. Must be chasing one another, knocked something over. Giving the street one final glance, I turn and walk into a warm and delicious smelling house.

My stomach rumbles as I close the door behind me. I follow the voices and they lead me into the kitchen. Reef, Leon, and Otis are sitting around the table while Nixie is rummaging through the first aid kit. Finding gloves, she pulls them on first.

“Have a seat, Zale, dinner will be ready soon. Now, let’s have a look, Otis. And by look, I mean this is probably going to sting so buckle up.” Nixie doesn’t give the young prospect time to say anything when she instantly starts to disinfect his wounds.

I’m wearing a grin from just watching her take charge. After a few minutes she’s done and roams around the kitchen to throw away the trash and leaves to put the first aid kit away.

My gaze is fixed on the door where her ass just left through when my kid says, “She’s really nice, Dad.”

I whip my head in his direction and drag the word out, “Oookay,” as if to ask why he feels the need to mention this to me.

My kid doesn’t fail when he says, “Don’t make her hate us by sleeping with her.”

Fuck. Reef sounds like he’s either choking or snorting a laugh, and Otis looks uncomfortable.

“If you like her than go out on a date instead, and go from there,” Leon easily supplies, not caring a fuck if Nixie just stepped into the kitchen.

A phone starts to ring. Nixie pulls her phone from the front pocket of her hoodie and frowns at the screen.

“Sorry, I need to take this.” She answers the call and steps out of the kitchen.

I have a clear view of the hallway and ignore Reef and Otis chatting while I keep my eyes on Nixie. She listens to whomever called her and lets her head fall back against the wall she’s leaning against.

Soft murmurs fall from her lips. She pushes off from the wall and starts to pace. I find myself rising from my chair when Nixie waves her hand in the air and mutters some hushed words.

I get the end of the discussion when Nixie says, “In the end it will be your decision, Maeve. Fuck people and their little minds, you’re the one who lives your life and has to deal with the consequences of any decision you make. I support you, sweetheart, and I’m right here with a spare bedroom if you need it.”

Nixie turns and places her forehead against the wall. “Always, you know that. Oh, and Maeve? All men have dicks, but not all can be labeled as such, okay?” A small chuckle slips from her. “Yeah, see you soon, sweetheart.”

She lets her phone slide back into the pocket of her hoodie and places her hands flat on the wall beside her head.

Stepping closer, I keep my voice to a whisper when I ask, “Everything okay?”

Her face is pinched with worry for a heartbeat or two and then there’s a fake as fuck smile. “Sure. I mean, kids, always something, right? Shit. My kid is having a kid. Ugh. I don’t feel freaking old and somehow, I’m going to be a grandma. How is that for logic? Oh, and then there’s the fact my asshole husband cheated on me, wanted a divorce because he traded me in for a bimbo our daughter’s age.” She gives a laugh that lacks any humor. “The bimbo killed him out of jealousy before the divorce was final. Life has a way of fucking up and screwing people over. My mother died of a stroke, and I might have been able to have saved her if my damn plane wouldn’t have been delayed by the stupid software update. Stubborn woman keeping quiet about not feeling good and brushing it off as a simple headache. Like my daughter acting like everything is freaking fine when she just caught her boyfriend banging her best friend. Fuck. I need pie.”

“You’ll get pie,” I promise. “There’s just something you need a little more first.”

“What?” she muses, confused as she stares up at me.

This woman, with her eyes open and honest, some of her hair has fallen out of the bun, looks disheveled and still gorgeous as fuck when I pull her into my arms.

Never have I been the hugging type. Yet, seeing this strong woman push through shit raises the need inside me to give her someone to lean on, even if it’s only for a moment.

I place my chin on the top of her head and rumble, “A hug, Nixie. You need a fucking hug, and then we’ll enjoy some of the delicious smelling food you made, okay?”

Her hands slide under my leather cut, holding me just as tight as she buries her face against my chest and breathes in deep.

“Okay,” she echoes.

Warmth spills through me, different than a jolt of lust for the need to fuck. This hug feels as if it’s soothing the both of us. Who knew I needed it just as much as her?