Chapter 9
Kinsley
After a hearty breakfast at a local cafe in town, he ushered me back to the car. I should’ve known something was up the second he made me buckle my seatbelt and double-checked that my scarf wasn’t going to “interfere with his view.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, eyeing the glint in his green eyes as he pulled out of the car park.
“You’ll see,” he said with maddening smugness, tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the Christmas classic playing on the radio.
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re being suspicious.”
He only grinned harder, refusing to elaborate, which, of course, made me squirm the entire drive. When we pulled up to the town center and I spotted the glowing “Winter Wonderland Mall Extravaganza” sign in shimmering lights, I turned to him, confused.
Nik wasn’t really a fan of this type of shopping. He preferred boutique high-end stores to the cookie-cutter style.
“You brought me to the mall?”
“You see a mall…” he said, turning off the car and reaching for my hand. “I see a battlefield.”
“Excuse me?”
He wiggled his brows. “You and me, sugarplum. A Christmas sing-off. I figured you love to sing, and so do I. Why not put our skills to the test?”
“A sing-off? Like Battle of the Bands style, just singing?”
“Not really. This is a little more chaotic. You’ll have to work to get the title of winner.”
“Okay,” I asked, nervousness setting in.
“Rules are simple. Approach fifteen holiday shoppers. Ask them to sing a Christmas carol with you. You have to record it for it to count. Full song. First one to get fifteen wins.”
My mouth fell open. “You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” he drawled. “Winner gets not only bragging rights but full control in the bedroom for one night.”
That earned him a squeal and an excited bounce. “You’re so on. Just know I’m going to edge you so hard. You’ll be the one a blubbering mess this time, Crow. Begging me to let you come.” I shimmied my shoulders in excitement.
“You’re adorable, you know. I love your confidence. But fair warning, I never lose. Oh, and I do have one tiny stipulation…” He turned and waved to someone behind me.
I turned, only to find my favorite former M16, bond style-bodyguard emerging from the shadows like a well-dressed mafia man. He was dressed in black and looked more like he was ready to do Death Squad work.
“Marcus is your shadow for the day,” Nik announced with a smug grin. “Just to make sure no one tries to run off with my favorite ornament.”
“A chaperone?” I hissed. “Are you serious right now?”
Nik didn’t even flinch. “Deadly. You’re hot, sparkly, and tragically too nice to fend off horny Christmas blokes.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re scared I’m going to win.”
“No, baby girl. I’m scared someone’s going to try to carry you off like a sugarplum fairy prize, and then I’ll have to gut someone in front of Santa.”
“You mean with Santa,” Marcus chuckled, whipping out a creased and wrinkled Santa hat.
I rolled my eyes dramatically and shoved Nik in the chest. “You are so lucky I love you.”
He grinned. “And you’re going to look so beautiful all tied up for me later.”
Twenty Minutes Later…
I was on attempt number six, standing near the giant candy cane archway while Marcus hovered two feet behind me like an undercover bouncer.
“I swear, you’re making this harder,” I muttered under my breath as the third mom group that passed gave me a wide berth and a nervous glance.
“I’m not doing anything,” he said calmly, though his eyes scanned the crowd like a sniper watching rooftops.
“Exactly.” I sighed, plastering on my best fake smile as I approached a group of teens. “Hey, would any of you be willing to sing a quick carol with me for a competition—?”
They blinked at me. One started to nod until his friend elbowed him and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Dude, she’s got a bodyguard.”
They all quickly backed away.
I spun on Marcus. “I am not Beyoncé, you know. You can chill a little.”
“I’ve seen you dance. You’ve got her skill level, just saying.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. Damn it.
Meanwhile, across the way but within earshot, Nik had gathered an actual crowd. A literal crowd. There were giggling girls circling him like he was handing out kisses under mistletoe. He flashed that damn dimple, leaned close to sing “Last Christmas,” and even I felt weak in the knees.
“Unfair,” I muttered. “His voice is so lyrical, he’s wearing a freaking cardigan, and he’s letting girls touch him. I’m out here with a mafia shadow and boots that jingle when I walk.”
“You look great,” Marcus offered helpfully.
I sighed and waved down a father with a stroller. “Hi! Do you like ‘Silent Night’?”
Marcus, for once, stayed far enough back. Probably felt sorry for me, and this person had a kid, so that probably helped. I needed to get my ass in gear if I was going to win this thing. The next two people I approached looked at me like I was in need of a psych ward. My resolve started to crumble.
And right when I was about to call it quits and accept defeat, I spotted them—two well-dressed men near the holiday gift display arguing animatedly over what to get for ‘the woman who has everything’.
Bingo.
I smoothed my skirt, fluffed my hair, and flashed my most innocent smile as I strutted over, in all my jingle-jangle glory. Sugar and spice—naughty and nice. Marcus shifted behind me with a warning sigh. Too bad. I was on a mission.
“Excuse me,” I said sweetly, interrupting their debate about whether a cashmere robe was too personal or not personal enough. “I couldn’t help overhearing…you two seem like you could use a woman’s perspective.”
Both heads turned toward me at once. Oh, they were cute. One had the kind of nerdy glasses I could see myself stealing. The other had a jawline so sharp I was pretty sure he could give Henry Cavill a run for his money. They blinked. Then smiled.
“What a coincidence,” Glasses said. “We were just saying we wish we could ask someone.”
“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in both gift recommendations and Christmas carols,” I said, batting my lashes. “How do you feel about singing ‘Deck the Halls’ with me?”
“Wait—what?” Jawline asked, amused.
“It’s for a competition,” I added, giving them the big eyes. “You’d be helping a girl in need and spreading cheer. I’d owe you one.”
“Like…sing right here? In the mall?” Glasses asked, a little stunned.
“Right here, right now,” I said, already pulling out my phone. “And don’t worry, I’ll take the lead. All you have to do is smile and follow my jingle bell-loving cues.”
Jawline shrugged. “Screw it. Let’s do it.”
I lit up. “Yesss! You two are officially on the nice list.”
We started the song, and honestly? They were kind of great.
Not in a “should tour with Mariah” way, but in a “college a cappella group” way.
And me? I was thriving. I shimmied as if my shoulders were on fire.
I might have even added a dramatic flair to the “Fa la la la la, la la la la” parts for effect.
Then Jawline leaned in a little too close. “So, uh…what’s your name? Maybe we could grab cocoa when you’re done winning this competition?”
Before I could answer, a shadow loomed behind him, cutting off the lights like a solar eclipse. Marcus stepped in between us, placing one large hand on his shoulder with the kind of calm menace that said This man has definitely used zip ties outside of their intended purpose.
“She’s taken,” he said coolly. “And unless you want to be run over by a reindeer, I suggest you back up. Two candy cane lengths. Minimum.”
Glasses froze. Jawline paled.
“Thanks for the duet!” I chirped, stepping forward to pocket my phone before Marcus could confiscate that too. “Now on to keeping my end of the bargain. Tell me what your relationship is—”
“Uh-yeah…I think we’re good,” Jawline murmured, not even looking at me. Then they bolted.
I turned to Marcus, who was still fuming.
“You know we don’t…” I made a cut mark across my neck. “People not on the list.”
“Yeah, tell that to the Crow. I have a job to do.” He let out a long-suffering sigh as I shook my head.
I checked my tally. “Only four more to go,” I announced cheerfully.
“I don’t like this game,” he muttered, scanning the mall.
“That makes two of us. I’d probably like it more if you weren’t trying to scare off every man who breathes in my general direction.”
“Can’t help it,” he said with a shrug. “I suggest that going forward you pick your targets wisely.”
“Meaning?” I put my hands on my hips and blew the hair from my face.
“Find some nice old ladies who aren’t going to flirt with you and try to look up your damned skirt,” he replied, folding his arms. “It doesn’t help that it’s too fucking short for my liking. I’m about ready to tie my jacket around your waist.”
I huffed. “This competition is rigged.”
He didn’t smile. But he did say, “Yeah, well, take that up with your ‘Daddy’. Time’s ticking. Better get back at it or admit defeat.”
I rolled my eyes so hard it was a small miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Fine. Old ladies, huh? Challenge accepted.”
He visibly relaxed. We walked a few booths down, and I spotted a trio of sweet pensioners in matching snowman sweaters by a cookie decorating booth.
I approached, and they were delightful. One of them had a literal sleigh bell in her purse.
They were happy to sing along with me. We were finishing “Jingle Bell Rock” when I spotted them.
The holy grail.
A cluster of brawny rugby players—real ones, based on the logos on their uniforms. They were lounging by the Santa photo line. One had a clipboard. One was handing out candy canes. The rest were flirting with moms.
My eyes sparkled.
Ten or so rugged men. All in a single swoop. If I split them up, played things right, I’d win and get enough footage to screenshot some serious biceps to fill a calendar for Isabella.
I could throw in one or two of Pasha. He had muscles galore. She’d hate it, but now nothing would do but to get those pictures and win this damned thing.
But then I glanced over my shoulder. Marcus. Ever-vigilant and still watching. I had to act fast. I leaned into the lead snowman-granny. “Quick question,” I whispered conspiratorially, casting a furtive glance over my shoulder.
Her eyes lit up like a fiber-optic tree. “Oh, we love quick questions.”
“See that man over there?” I pointed to Marcus, who had his arms crossed and was looking over to the right, where a group of rowdy teens were making a ruckus.
“Oh, the tall, brooding one? Looks like he eats raw steak?”
“That’s him. His name’s Marcus. He’s my…well, he’s technically my bodyguard. But it’s Christmas, and he’s lonely. Really misses his granny. He pretends he’s not, but really, he really needs a few lovely women to make him smile.”
Their faces softened into one collective awww.
“You mean to say he’s alone on the holidays?”
“Tragically so,” I sighed, pressing a hand to my heart for effect. “Do you think you could…maybe…go talk to him for a minute? I think it would really make his day.”
“We’ll do more than that,” one said. “Marlene, fix your lipstick. Sylvia, get out your peppermint chews. We’re deploying our Christmas charm.”
Before I could blink, the trio of grannies made a beeline for Marcus. I watched gleefully as they swarmed him with cheerful chatter and compliments about his “posture” and “strong hands.” He looked panicked.
I made my move. I darted across the open court as if I were in a spy film, darting out of sight behind the Santa sign. Thankfully, it shielded me completely.
One of the players leaned around with an amused grin on his face.
“Hi!” I chirped.
“You hiding from someone?”
“Maybe…just a little. Nothing serious. But I could use some help.”
Two of his friends noticed and stepped closer to the sign. This was my chance. I could start with these three and then ask them to send the others back a few at a time.
“So I’m trying to win a competition. The challenge is to sing a Christmas carol with strangers. Um…if you agree, I’ll donate to your charity thing. I’ll even throw in a round of cookies from the stand over there.”
They were on board immediately. We started “Rudolph,” and one of them did a beatbox intro like it was a halftime show. We were halfway through and killing it. That was until someone cleared his throat very loudly behind me.
I turned. Marcus stood there, the snow-grannies still fluttering at his elbows, now showing him photos of their grandkids, their cruise, and a cute little dachshund. He didn’t say a word.
He didn’t have to.
I smiled sweetly at him. “Having a nice chat?”
His jaw ticked. “You’re a goddamn menace.”
“Maybe. But I’m your menace, remember?”
One of the grandmas patted his arm. “She’s a firecracker, that one. You keep an eye on her.”
He gave them a tight smile. “That’s what I’m trying to do. It’s too bad she won’t get in line.”
Ten Minutes Later…
I had one more to go. Turns out the Rugby players had another mall to get to. I was scoping out a new target when Nik strolled over, looking way too smug. He raised his phone and wiggled it like a trophy. “Fifteen. Verified.”
I flopped dramatically onto the bench nearest me. “I had fourteen. I was so close!”
“Fourteen is not the winning number now, is it?” he asked with a wink. “You’re short. And that means…I win.”
I crossed my arms but couldn’t stop smiling. “Fine. You win.”
He leaned in, brushing a kiss to my temple. “You gave it your all, and you looked so cute doing it. But tonight…you’re mine, baby girl. I hope you’re in the mood to beg.”
The butterflies returned with a vengeance.
“Let’s get some lunch and then onto our next surprise.”
That turned out to be an escape room where we had to help Santa get home and deliver the presents on time. I never laughed so hard. Once we saved Christmas, he took me by the hand and kissed it softly.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and my heart soared. “I have one last thing I want to do with you. We need to head back to the cottage.”
“I’d love that,” I teased, brushing my breasts against his chest sensually.
“I’m sure you would, you dirty little slut.”
“Your dirty little slut.”
“And don’t you forget it. You ready?”
“I am…always at the ready,” I murmured as he shook his head and took my hand.