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The Christmas Sneak: Hope’s Turn Holidays
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The Christmas Sneak
Hope’s Turn Holidays
Marie Harte
No Box Books
THE CHRISTMAS SNEAK
Hope’s Turn Holidays
Ex-NFL star Deacon Flashman had the perfect woman in the palm of his hands…and dropped the ball.
Considering his past performances, that isn’t news. An injury cut short his football career, and then he got taken for millions by a greedy ex-wife. But Deacon’s luck has changed. With the holidays close, he’s getting a second chance. Nora Nielson, the woman who got away, is back. Now he needs to figure out how to get into her good graces. A relationship with Nora is everything he wants…and everything that scares him. But to let the past go, he’ll have to go big or go home. And the stakes have never been higher.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and plot points stem from the writer’s imagination. They are fictitious and not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
* * *
THE CHRISTMAS SNEAK
Copyright © December 2019 by Marie Harte
ISBN 9781642920437
No Box Books
Cover by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs
Edited by Stefanie Carol
* * *
All Rights Are Reserved. None of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for reviews or promotion.
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Acknowledgments
To all the readers who asked about Deacon’s story, this book would not have been written without you. And to my incredible friend and editor, Stef, you always come through in a pinch. Many, many thanks.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Also by Marie
About the Author
Chapter 1
Hope’s Turn, Oregon
November
Outside, the weather had dipped several degrees. A fireplace burned in the living room, making the area toasty. But it was the woman practically in his lap making Deacon overly warm.
And not in a good way.
“You are so hot.” Meghan ran her hands over Deacon’s sweater, kissing her way along his throat. “I haven’t seen you in forever, baby.”
It had been a few weeks ago, and he’d only stopped by then because he’d felt guilty he’d been avoiding her.
She purred. “You’re sexy and rich and all mine.”
Finally, she’d said out loud what he’d been suspecting since the beginning. She’d called him hot? Deacon felt nothing but cold.
“Maybe we could spend our Thanksgiving in Maui, baby. Think about it.”
The stunning redhead had turned from an attractive possibility to a definite flag on the play after the first time she’d mentioned his perceived wealth. But Deacon knew he was overly sensitive about money. Just because his ex-wife had been a gold-digging user didn’t mean every woman was out to con him. He’d wanted to prove to himself that he could give anyone a second chance. But a third? No way.
“Deacon?” Meghan pulled back, sensing his lack of interest, apparently. “Are you okay?”
They’d met two months ago at a friend’s anniversary party. He’d tried to play it cool, but she’d been all over him from the first, quick to jump into bed and give him anything he wanted. To be honest, Deacon was used to women who catered to him, adored him, and made him feel special. He’d had looks and brawn before joining the NFL. And life as a professional athlete had been like rolling out the red carpet on his dating life. Despite all that, he’d never had an ego, he didn’t think.
Probably why Rhonda had been able to step all over him.
And there was that one particular woman who didn’t seem to like him much. One he thought about at odd times for no apparent reason.
Nora Freakin’ Nielson.
God, stop thinking about her.
He pushed her sardonic wit and sexy smirk to the back of his mind as he tried to figure out how to get out of spending the holiday with this woman after his body and his money, and not necessarily in that order. Though he didn’t want to hurt Meghan’s feelings, he’d reached his breaking point.
He pasted a smile on his face. “No way I’m going to Maui. I need to get right back to work after Thanksgiving.”
Meghan’s full lips turned down in a pout. It wasn’t a good look, though she seemed to use it a lot when not getting her way. Damn. Eight weeks with her had been eight weeks too many. Why the hell had he agreed to spend the holiday with her? Oh right, because Nora would be attending this year’s family Thanksgiving.
“But Deacon, we need to spend time together,” Meghan whined. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s take the time, just you and me.”
“Um, I thought you said your folks were coming into town.”
“Plans changed. I wanted to spend my holiday with you, and I knew you wouldn’t come if you thought I’d put you before my parents. I’ll visit with them at Christmas. What do you say? You should come with me to meet them.” Her eyes brightened with enthusiasm. “Just us on a private jet to Seattle, then maybe we can fly to Alaska for New Year’s if you don’t want Maui. Or take a cruise to Europe?” Her eyes brightened. “That would be fun.”
“Meghan, I can’t take that much time off.”
“Sure you can. You’re the boss.”
“I co-own the brewery. We’re not that big yet, and in any case, I’m not rolling around in money.” Not like I used to be…
Her eyes turned hard. “What? I’m not worth spending a few dollars on?” She leaned forward, her décolletage enticing…and…well…boobytrapped.
No pun intended.
He muffled immature laughter she would not appreciate. “Look. Clearly this isn’t working. You want a sugar daddy. Meghan, that’s not me.”
She frowned. “That’s not true. Deacon, I like you a lot.”
My wallet, you mean. He extricated himself from her hold and left the couch. “I like you too. I think you’re sweet. But we want different things.”
“That’s bull. You want me. Hell, you wanted me the last time we were together. More than once, if you remember,” she snapped. “Oh, I see. You want sex, so you come over to my place. But when I want a real relationship, you decide I’m not good enough for you and your damn millions?”
He sighed. He should have ended things a few days after meeting her. But he’d hoped they might have more. An image of Nora shaking her head at him popped into his mind’s eye, and he silently swore as he pushed her behind yet another mental door. “Let’s be honest. You came on to me that first night. I politely said no three times. Then, well, you’re gorgeous. I figured if you wanted me that much, I should see where things went.”
She turned scarlet but didn’t disagree.
“Meghan, we’ve had fun. But you seem determined to get me to buy you airfare, diamonds” —she’d brought that up on their last date— “or something to show you I care
. With me, a relationship should be about more than money.” He’d taken her out for dinner and fun, and he’d always paid. But lately he’d seen the truth about what she really wanted. Been there, done that.
“Obviously.” She sniffed, working up a tear maybe? “But you have me all wrong. I don’t just care about your bank account. I like… I think I might love you, Deacon.” Tears welled.
“I wish I could believe that.” He hated to be a hard-ass, but he’d been played the fool before. “Unfortunately, I don’t.”
Her eyes narrowed, the hint of waterworks gone. “Fine. Then screw you. Get out. I don’t need you. I can get any man I want.” She sneered. “You think some has-been NFL star is top of the food chain in this town? Think again.”
“I wish you the best, Meghan.” He grabbed his coat and didn’t look back, even when she threw a shoe at the wall and wailed his name.
God, what had he been doing with her? Has-been NFL star? Yep, that was Deacon’s life now. The glory days in the past, his life one big do-over. More tired than he’d been in a long time, he went straight to bed the moment he arrived home.
The next morning, his cell phone rang and rang, waking him. He blearily glanced at his phone, then looked through and listened to his messages. The last few calls and texts had been from Meghan, alternately cursing him out and begging him to come back. He started to put his phone on mute but saw his brother’s caller ID when the phone rang again.
“Mitch?” he answered.
“It’s time! Get your ass to the hospital. Hurry.” Mitch disconnected.
Deacon’s brain caught up with his brother’s words. It was finally happening. Deacon was about to become an uncle for the second time in a year, though this kid would be brand spankin’ new and not a sarcastic teenager.
Excitement filled him. He hurried to dress. He needed to be there for his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. He couldn’t wait!
And he if he took a little extra care with his appearance, it had nothing to do with the sexy—no, obstinate—woman who’d also be waiting for the baby’s birth. Nora could sneer and snark at him as much as she wanted to. Hell, truth be told, he looked forward to it.
With a grin, he raced to the hospital, and this time he allowed thoughts of the fiery beauty to linger while he remembered how much he wished he could forget her.
St. Mary’s Hospital
“Why is this taking so long?” that man griped for the fifth time in as many minutes.
Nora forced herself to take a moment before responding. A glance around the hospital waiting room showed a group of people assembled to celebrate a monumental event. They’d gathered together with love, anticipation making them giddy, excitable, and—she eyed the giant with the attitude—irritable.
This was Becca’s day, or rather, Becca’s baby’s day, as the precious little girl readied to greet the world. Dubbed “the Christmas baby,” though they technically had another month until Santa came to visit, Baby Flashman would be loved by her parents, half-brother, and bevy of relatives eager to meet the newest addition to the brood.
Though cousins, Becca and Nora were more like sisters. Nora couldn’t have had a better best friend. Becca deserved every happiness; her lovely husband did too. Nora loved Mitch.
She just wished he’d been born an only child.
As if sensing her regard, Deacon Flashman, Mitch’s older, obnoxious brother, met her gaze. His left brow rose in question. If he wasn’t taller than Sasquatch, she’d sock him in the eye just to see if he’d lose that aggravating expression of superiority.
Instead, she smiled. “Well, Deacon, maybe you could go in there and give Becca tips on how to pass something the size of a bowling ball out of her lady shoot.”
“Nora.” Nora’s mother sounded shocked, though she shouldn’t have been. She did know her daughter, after all. “Be nice.” Be nice—a phrase Nora had been hearing for thirty-four plus years.
Her father, standing close by, laughed, as did Deacon’s parents.
Deacon grimaced. “Oh, er. I’m happy to wait out here.”
“No, really. Let’s talk about the biology of birthing a child.”
Her nephew tugged her by the arm and leaned closer to whisper, “You’re showing a lot of teeth, Aunt Nora. Let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“Yep.” Simon nodded. “Feed me.”
She let the super tall teenager lead her toward the elevators. “He’s insufferable.”
“Uh-huh.” Simon looked down at her with his mother’s hazel eyes. He had his father’s sandy hair and good looks, but he was Becca’s boy down to the bone. Sarcastic and smart and quite the athlete. When his father had died, Simon and his mom had grieved. So this second chance at a rounded family was more than welcome.
They entered the elevator and rode to the cafeteria on the third floor.
“Sorry.” She wasn’t, exactly. But she didn’t want to ruin it for Simon. After all, one didn’t get a little sister every day. It wasn’t Simon’s fault Deacon rubbed her the wrong way. Once, she’d thought things might be different between them. But no, he’d proven he was just like all the rest. A mistake.
They left the elevator and headed for the a la carte line.
Simon glanced at her once before honing back in on the food. “You know, when I apologize like that, with all that fake sincerity, Mom just looks at me. Like this.” He gave her the old I-don’t-believe-you stare Becca had perfected before adding a few plates of food to his tray.
“Fine. I’m so, so s-o-r-r-y,” she dragged out.
He rolled his eyes.
After grabbing a doughnut and coffee, she paid and sat with him at a nearby table. “Are you excited about meeting your sister?” She picked at her treat but lingered over the coffee, which tasted surprisingly good.
Simon shoveled food into his growing body while managing a grin. “Yep. Mom and Mitch said I’ll have to help with diapers. Not so sure about that, but it’ll be fun to have someone else to blame when things go wrong.”
She laughed. “Uh-huh. Might have to wait until she’s a little older for that.”
“I’m going to teach her how to throw a touchdown pass.” Simon’s passion revolved around sports, in particular, football.
“I think between you and Mitch, she’ll be the first female running back in the NFL.”
“She can follow in my footsteps.”
“Big dreams, little guy.” At the face he made, she chuckled. “So how is life with the ex-football star? Still amazing, or has it become normal now?” Mitch had come to live in Hope’s Turn a little over a year ago after retiring from the NFL at the top of his game. He had a ton of money, two Superbowl rings, owned a huge house in the mountains, and helped coach Simon’s high school football team when not organizing free sports opportunities for the kids in town.
He treated Becca like she could do no wrong. For that alone Nora would have loved him. But he’d also accepted Simon into his life without issue and treated him like his son.
She wished he had a clone she could marry. Unfortunately, the closest thing to his DNA came in the form of Dick—er, Deacon—Flashman.
“Life is great. We’re all happy. Mom’s thrilled. Mitch is awesome.” Simon’s voice hitched.
Nora stared at him in concern. “Simon?”
He let out a slow, wavery breath. “Sorry. It’s just… I’m so happy. Everything’s so good lately. I’m worried something bad will happen. Like with Dad.” A terrible car accident had taken Simon’s father eight years ago.
She put her hand over his on the table. “What happened to your dad was a fluke. You can’t predict those kinds of things. Let yourself be happy when life is good.”
“And make lemonade when life gives you lemons?” he added drily, sounding better.
“Heck no. Make limoncello. Lemonade is for wusses.”
He laughed, looking less stressed.
They chatted about school and his girlfriend, who wo
uld be arriving just as soon as she could. With the Thanksgiving holiday upon them, the baby had come at a less than convenient time for turkey lovers. Not that Nora had made other plans. This year the entire family had planned to celebrate together at Mitch’s house. His parents, Nora’s folks—who were as much Becca’s parents as Nora’s—Nora, and Simon.
Fortunately, Deacon had made other plans in town.
Everyone had wanted to stay close, anticipating Becca’s labor.
Nora wondered what it must be like to have a man who loved you wholeheartedly. How it felt to hold your baby in your arms. Sometimes she envied Becca. And then she’d hate herself for feeling anything but glad for her cousin. Becca had lost the love of her life when Simon was just a young boy.
It had taken her a while to recover, and for the past eight years she’d been living a half-life, devoted to motherhood but lacking any intimate bonds for herself. Her world had revolved around work and her small family, of which Nora felt privileged to be a part. Now Becca had a husband, an amazing son, and a new baby to light up her world.
So unlike Nora, who felt alone even when surrounded by a crowd. She wondered if the invisible “Desperate and Available” sign around her neck was responsible for her lack of worthwhile offers. Her last date had claimed he loved her and wanted to move in, no doubt rent free, following their first and only dinner together.
She sighed.
“Are you going to eat that?” Simon asked, pointing at her remaining doughnut.