The Christmas Vow (Hallelujah Crossing)

Chapter 1

J uly

Hallelujah Crossing, TN

“Oh my God, Santa is fucking hot! I want to sit on his lap. Preferably without clothing and his dick buried deep between my legs as he takes me for a ride. All across the sky. My bed. The floor. I’m not picky.”

Rayla Hunter rolled her eyes as Krissy Mae Corbin, strode into Santa’s Toy Shop wearing some frayed jean shorts and a tank top that showed far more skin than it covered. Her raven black hair fell artfully around tanned shoulders like she’d simply walked out of a salon. More like sashayed because that pageant queen didn’t simply walk. Anywhere.

She didn’t blame her, if she could get away with wearing clothing as Krissy Mae did, she would as well. Sure she could do it now but as she wasn’t about to let her less than flat belly and touching thighs show that much, she was going to be covered.

Hallelujah Crossing was a Christmas town. That’s what it was known for and while this was her first time there, she’d quickly come to love the small town nestled deep within the Smokey Mountains in Tennessee. Was it where she’d expected to end up?

Most definitely not.

But the huge change from DC was enough to keep her in place while drowning in everything Christmas related.

Besides, this is where Grant said he would meet me.

She didn’t have a lot of friends. In fact, she could count on one hand how many she had and have a few fingers left over. She had acquaintances and people who wanted to use her for her parents connection. Grant Brown had been the first person to see her.

For that alone, she would carry his secret and take it to the grave if needed, however, she wanted to see him. Alive. He was doing something dangerous and it scared her that he put himself in danger like that. However, she only had minimal information on his work. He hadn’t wanted to land her in hot water.

Therefore, she accepted the job at Santa’s Toy Shop for their huge Christmas in July celebration. Essentially, she was a gopher. She would run wherever needed, get toys, wrap them, take photos if needed. All the things. Fill in where needed without question. The pay was surprisingly decent for coming from this small rural Tennessee town.

Money wasn’t needed, she was lucky enough to have money and she wasn’t desperate for it, or have the need to live paycheck to paycheck. She knew that it was a privilege denied to most of the country.

So she was here, running errands and dressing up like a holiday decoration.

And I’m okay with that. It allows my brain to not focus on what person is setting me up for something that will, in a space of time, help them no matter the cost to me and my wellbeing. Here, it’s all about the holiday. And honestly, I could use some of that happiness and holiday spirit to calm the storm within.

Did she need to work? Not even close, but the thought of using a card and alerting the parental figures as to her location, or the men who did their work for them, didn’t sit high on her to-do list. Not in the slightest. Ergo, she got a job.

In a large building that looked a lot like many of the one’s in DC during December with the amount of decorations. Only it was July. In Tennessee. And she was sweating. Or would be if not for the AC.

Okay, I’m still sweating.

“Did you hear me?” Krissy Mae paused in front of her, one hand on her hip, eyebrows up in exasperation.

“I think even Santa heard you on that one, Krissy Mae. He’s hot and you want to fuck him. Multiple times and multiple placed.”

Her blue eyes sparkled as she waggled her eyebrows. “And I need that man to take me for a ride, bend me over and make me lose my voice. He’s yummy .”

Rayla shrugged. “Not a word I associate with Santa. Grandfatherly. Sweet. Jolly.” She shook her head wishing she’d taken the time to put her hair up today. Sitting behind a desk didn’t get her this sweaty and despite the air conditioning, she’d been hustling today. “Fuckable. That’s a new one.”

Krissy Mae waggled a finger at her. “Just you wait, hon, you’ll see, and you will think the same as I do. Unless,” she paused canting her head to the left. “Are you into women?”

She jerked back and scowled up at her friend. “What? No! How did you get there?”

“You seem dead set on not finding Santa attractive.”

Blowing a raspberry, she rolled her eyes. “I’m pragmatic. Santa is Santa. A hot man is a hot man. Doesn’t mean because I’m not as excited as you I am playing for the other team.”

Ruby lips pursed. “You’ve been burned by a man before. That’s what this is.” A firm nod which sent her shiny locks sliding over her shoulders. “Honey, all you need is to jump back on that horse.”

Reaching for the roll of green sparkling wrapping paper she set it in the box of the other sparkly paper. With an arched eyebrow she gestured to her curvaceous body. “I don’t jump, Krissy Mae and I’ve never been on a horse before.” Big blue eyes widened and she hastened to add, “Trust me when I say I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

“Horseback riding is fun.” A dreamy look crossed her face. “Oh, to go riding on Santa.”

“I would love to say you mean with, but I feel you said it exactly how you meant to say that sentence.” She scanned the large area for another two boxes. It was far easier to have wrapping paper collected by themes. Sure, the majority of the wrappers had the large spools of it, however, for the children who wanted to try their hand at wrapping, this was where they could look for the paper they wished to use.

“Oh, I did.” Krissy Mae popped up beside her, three rolls of red paper with gold writing on them in hand.

“I see two boxes over there, let me grab them.”

Along the left wall, she crouched to empty out the small bits in the bottom of the second box when a hush fell over the room. Skin prickling as it had in DC when she was at a function and the air simply changed, alerting everyone to a newcomer in the midst.

Lifting her head, she promptly lost her breath. Holy shit.

A man stood in the entrance, the light behind him giving him an almost godlike appearance. That fact didn’t change, even when he shut the door behind him, keeping out the heat.

Quite possibly because he brought it with him.

Lightheaded. That’s all it was, why she had no breath and her body tingled in a way she’d only read about. Features too harsh to be pretty but damn, what she wouldn’t give to trace them with her burning fingertips. Firm jaw, hard unforgiving lines and angles so sharp she could cut herself on them.

Happily. I would happily cut myself on them.

Fallen angel.

Full lips that begged to be tasted, sucked, nipped. His brows were as dark as the hair on his head, thick and she had another insane urge to dig in and tug.

As he nibbled and licked his way over and down her curves. Not anything she had in short supply. A harsh snort left her. A man like that, didn’t go for women like her. Definitely not with those broad shoulders covered by an impossibly tight gray shirt, showcasing the defined muscles in his torso and hard abdominal ridges.

Damn near panting, she lowered her gaze. The man had enough of the people in there fawning over him, he didn’t need to add her.

“Listen up!” Nicholas Snow, owner of Santa’s Toy Shop and her current boss gave a sharp whistle.

Not bothering to get back up on her feet, she remained crouched, working as her boss gave the introduction of Krissy Mae’s hot-enough-to-fuck Santa.

She definitely has good taste, that’s for sure.

“…name’s Ryker and I look forward to working with all of you as one of the many Santa’s here in Hallelujah Crossing.”

Fuck. That voice. Deep. More than a bit graveled and one she wouldn’t mind having issue commands in her ear as he thrust hard inside her.

Or slow and measured. Either way is fine. Great, now I’m not any better than Krissy Mae because, I too, would like to fuck Santa.

She lifted her gaze from the box she’d been emptying and found rich, intense blue eyes cutting through the crowd to land on her. Rayla stilled.

All self-preservation instincts she had, and there were quite a few having grown up in the DC political circle, flared to life. And not simply a low poof , we’re alive sort. No, this was a full-on raging wildfire.

This man was the epitome of a predator.

Joke’s on you, buddy.

She may not look like it, but she’d survived the deadliest hunting ground of them all. Political DC. If he thought his looking at her and pinning that incredible—what, sue her, she wasn’t blind—gaze on her would frighten her, he had another thing coming. She’d survived worse than facing down one dangerous man.

Even as she provided herself that mental—and much needed—peptalk, she knew it wasn’t the same. This man, who from even across the room, exuded danger was much more deadly than the sharks she was used to being around. There was something about him.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Yeah, part of the reason she left DC, she didn’t appreciate people trying to make her feel less. He lifted his left black eyebrow, which she was pretty certain had a scar through it, but didn’t look away from her.

Not until Krissy Mae, bless her heart Rayla was torn between thanking her for getting that predatory look off her and longing to punch her in the face because she took the man’s attention from her.

This is why women turn into fools. Men like this. Like him. Big, chiseled slabs of hunkiness.

For the briefest of seconds, she wondered if he’d been sent after her by her parents to bring her home. That thought was squashed like a bug smashing against a windshield on the interstate. They wouldn’t want her back in any type of focus and as long as she didn’t end up in a headline, they could ignore their overweight, unpopular daughter in favor of their perfect children.

Putting her focus back on the box, she finished emptying it out then pushed to her feet. The rest of the room swarmed around the new guy—Ryker—and she deliberately went back to where she’d been working on the paper, determined not to get wrapped up in whatever fawning was going on.

Besides, if he’s here to try and get some information about Grant, I won’t tell him anything.

Still didn’t stop her own personal wish that the man would reach out and at least let her know he was breathing. This being a friend thing, sucked. As she didn’t have many, she wanted to horde the ones she had and keep them. Especially since she could count the number of them on one hand and have three fingers left over. Grant wasn’t getting rid of her that quickly.

Lifting her head to crack her neck, she found that blue stare focused on her once more. With a slow, definitely uninterested blink, Rayla got back to work.

Jack “Ryker” Owens very well may have fallen in love in the past few minutes. The building, a warehouse set up for the holidays, swarmed with men and women in little clothing because it was hot as the devil’s playground outside. While air conditioning ran, there was still a lot of in and out travel, and the locals wore clothing suited to that. Which meant women in tiny tank tops, some perhaps in a bikini top and shorts that barely passed their asses. He understood and he didn’t disprove, aware they would change when this spot opened up to the tourists waiting to get in here and experience the fun and thrills of Christmas in the middle of this blistering July.

None of that mattered though because through all the chaos and yelling his gaze had landed smack on a woman who most assuredly didn’t want to be in the center of attention. Her skin was a beautiful blend of smooth pecans with a hint of cinnamon blended into a syrup. Much like everyone in here with longer hair, hers was gathered up away from her neck, however, a few rebellious curls fell around her temples, dropping to her shoulders.

He'd had to lock his knees to keep from pushing through the entire swarm around him and going to her side. His teammate and one of his best friends, Preston Marks had told him that love was going to find him and smack him out of left field, sending him for a loop. At the time, he’d simply figured the man was missing the woman he’d met in Maine and had been nostalgic.

Now I believe I owe the man an apology.

Ryker was here for one reason, hunting down his wayward brother, but damn it if that mission had been lost to him the second he’d laid eyes on the full-figured beauty in the back. There was something about her.

The sky-blue V-neck short sleeve T-shirt wasn’t anything special yet, it highlighted her full chest, making his fingers itch with the need to tug that collar down a bit more to see her completely. Her pants weren’t tight, but he could definitely see her figure, were black and white covered in geometrical designs.

I don’t know what it is, not yet, but I will figure it out. Like I will have her name.

He wanted more than that with her, but he knew nothing about her. While his body currently read him the riot act for staying away, he wasn’t about to force himself on someone who may be taken or not remotely interested in him.

Unpleasantness unfurled in his gut at those ideas. She dismissed him and went back to removing things from the box before her. Wanting to believe the same bolt of lightning hit her that had seared him, he continued talking to the people around him, eyes tracking her when she rose to her feet and walked the far wall back to one of the tables.

No shorts for this woman, more’s the pity. Those thick thighs, yeah, he wanted to look his fill. Already he imagined them tight around his head as he was on his knees before her, her fingers digging into his scalp as if she couldn’t pull him close enough.

“Thank you for helping out.”

He blinked and looked to his right—away from his woman—to the man who’d given him the job. Nicholas Snow.

“No problem.” He kept the easy grin on his face when the last thing he wanted to do was stand here and mingle. He had a brother to find and a woman to woo.

Nicholas coughed and held up a hand when Ryker took a step closer to him in concern.

“Just gettin’ old son, nothing to worry about.”

He wasn’t so sure about there, however, he simply nodded. Eyes casting around once more, he found her, still organizing the wrapping paper, something he wouldn’t have thought important before now. She talked to a leggy brunette whose gaze continually shifted back to him all the while an invitation lingered on her features.

Beautiful? Yes.

Did he want her? Unequivocally no.

The woman she spoke to? Hell yes!

“We start in two hours. I know you saw the line when you walked up, there will be utter chaos in here once we open the doors. It will be loud because trust me, the snow machine, air conditioning, parents, children. You’ll have a few elves helping you out as you sit in place for me.”

“Sounds like you have a well-oiled machine here, sir. I’m pretty sure everyone will take great care of me.” He pushed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Who’s the woman over there, by the wrapping paper in the black and white pants? She didn’t come introduce herself.”

Silence.

Ryker glanced over to Nicholas and waited for him to stop hesitating. The man stared across the room at her then back to him, did it twice then gave a small shrug.

“Rayla. She’s new here too, working as one of the gophers. If you need anything she would be one of the one’s to send for it. We meet back here for a final briefing in an hour and a half. You’ll need to be in costume by then, everyone will.” Another cough. “Excuse me.”

Left alone, Ryker, took a deep breath then made his way across the large floor to where the women stood talking with over animated gestures. He didn’t head directly there, no he walked the long way around, denying himself as well as making it look like he didn’t have a specific target.

I most definitely have one.

“…I’m just saying, Rayla, you don’t need to be a gopher. You could be one of the elves. Maybe even sit on Santa’s lap.”

“Krissy Mae.” Warning laced the tone.

His cock stirred, both at the voice and the thought of her being on his lap. Yeah, he’d be okay with that. On so many levels.

He’d take her, anyway, facing him so he could suck on those large breasts he knew would overflow his hands. With her back to his chest, using his dick to get off, hands on his thighs as he watched her ass jiggle. Either way worked. Both was better.

“He’s a big man—”

“Stop Krissy Mae. Just, stop. I’m not climbing on Santa’s lap, I’m not one of the elves. I’m not cut out to be in the public eye. Gophering works fine for me. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to have you on his lap.”

Yeah, he didn’t think so.

He pushed his hands into his pockets as he walked up on the two women. Krissy Mae noticed him first and gave him a smile he knew without a doubt held a welcome in it. One he wouldn’t be taking her up on it.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He gave a small nod to Krissy Mae before turning his attention to Rayla. “I’m Ryker.”

Pale brown eyes flashed to him before she glanced away. “Rayla.”

A small sound of distress came from his left, but he didn’t look over to Krissy Mae. Instead, he kept his attention on the woman before him. Her easy dismissal of him, tweaked something in him.

Typically, he wasn’t a vain man but damnit, he knew he was good looking, and she acted like she didn’t care. Krissy Mae continued to watch him, but Rayla had put her focus back on the far more boring stack of rolls of wrapping paper.

Despite his wanting to push her and see what reaction he could drag out of her curvaceous form, he merely stepped back. “Nice to meet you.” One of the hardest things he’d ever had to do was walk away from the woman he knew down to the marrow of his bones was his.

That’s exactly what Ryker did. While he could be a caveman and demanding he knew when to push and when to step back. Willing his body to calm down, he continued moving through the room of well-organized chaos, notating the layout and getting a better idea of how things were going to be run.

He had to give it to Hallelujah Crossing, they went all out for this Christmas in July stuff. His phone buzzed and he glanced down to avoid stepping on a little person who zipped by, their arms overloaded with greenery.

“Pardon.” The man didn’t even slow.

“No problem.” Tugging his phone free, he answered even as his gaze swept the room once more to linger on the woman chatting with a few others who’d already changed into their Christmas outfits. Rayla hadn’t yet but he couldn’t wait. “Talk to me.”

No reason for pleasantries. He knew who was on the other end of the line and wanted answers, not polite conversation. A woman he’d worked with while active in the military. She was amazing at what she did. Geri Britton and she’d married another ex-military man, Simon Frederick and they currently lived in The Ozarks.

“Wow, how am I? I’m great, thanks for asking Ryker.” A low muttering. “You’re good too? Great to hear.”

“Geri,” he growled.

A child cried in the background before a door closed in the background, muffling the noise. “It’s called pleasantries, Ryker. You used to have them.”

He ground his jaw, eyes locked on the woman across the room from him. If she knew he watched her, she didn’t show it. No, she joked and laughed with the three around her, complete polar opposite of when he had been around her.

A frown tugged his lips down when another man joined the ground and gave her a one-armed hug.

“You’re not even listening to me,” Geri snapped.

Stepping back so the wall supported him, he flattened his lips. “Apologies. I’m surrounded by,” a shudder, “Christmas cheer.”

“Christmas in July. It’s a big thing.”

“And this place goes all out. I have to put on a Santa suit in a little bit.”

He counted in his head while she laughed. Ryker got a good way with the numbers before she finally cleared her throat.

“Where are you?”

“A small town in Tennessee called—”

“Hallelujah Crossing?”

He blinked, glanced around then took a deep breath. “You tracking me?”

“No. Rip and Caitlyn took their son there last Christmas. Figured they weren’t going anywhere this year with having the new baby. Said it was a great place.”

Ryker nodded, he knew Rip fairly well. The ex-solider turned K-9 cop had fallen in love and married a teacher at his son’s school. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Rip and Geri’s husband, Simon, were cousins.

“We both know I’m not here for the ambiance.”

“I know.” Her tone was serious. “I’ve been keeping an eye out, Ryker. No hits on anything. He’s still all in with cash for whatever he’s doing.”

“Or he’s a captive.”

Neither of them said what they were both thinking that his brother was dead.