Dirty Little Christmas Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Nichole Rose Advertisement1

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"Jesus," I breathe, stunned. All this time, she's felt this way?

"When you said that last night, I realized you probably didn't feel the same way." Her lips curve into a sad simile of a smile. "That's why I ran. How could you love someone you don't even know?"

"You think I don't know you."

Her lashes flutter before her eyes open. "How can you when I haven't been honest with you? I'm not Jillian."

I chuckle quietly. "I think we established that already, sweet December. You're using your sister's name."

She nods, admitting it for the first time. "I could tell you that I didn't want to lie to you, but the truth is...no one forced me to do it. I decided for me, Alaric. I...well, I guess I should do the dignified thing and tell you that I lied because I really want to work for your company. And that's true. I do want to work for your company. But that's not why I lied." Her earnest eyes meet mine, rimmed in red but still the clearest blue. "I just wanted to work with you."

"I know."

"You do?" Her brows furrow, and then distress filters through them. "I didn't do it for Cory."

My temper flares at the sound of his name. "I know that too. But he's the reason you had to use Jillian's name, isn't he?"

"I..."

"Don't lie to me, angel. Not now." I nip her throat. "You've been through hell. Don't make me spank the truth from you."

She moans quietly.

"Tell me, sweet December."

"Yes," she whispers.

I press my face to her throat, letting her confession quake through me. I steel myself against the hot rush of rage for her stepfather and fall into the warm wave of gratitude for her.

"Never again," I vow against her skin. "He'll never treat you that way again, December."

"Okay," she says.

Chapter Eleven

December

The next two hours are a blur of police officers and robbery detectives. Blaze shows up at some point, and I repeat what happened to fifteen different people, all of whom ask me the same questions. When I suggest that they could get more done faster if they all listened the first couple of times instead of making me go through it fifteen different times, a steely-eyed detective gets cranky and hints that maybe we should go downtown to talk.

Alaric kicks everyone out after that, telling them that I've answered questions for long enough and I'm done for the night. When the detective objects, Blaze has to keep Alaric from going for his throat. They quickly decide they have enough information after that.

Given that the thieves had the code to the warehouse, and one of them got it from his sister's laptop, I don't think it'll be very hard to track them down anyway.

I call Jillian while Alaric walks Blaze out.

"Are you okay?" she cries as soon as she answers.

I texted her earlier to let her know what was going on, but we haven't had time to talk.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I promise, clutching the phone to my ear as I pace around Alaric's living room. His house in the Hills is beautiful. Modern furniture and sleek glass overlook the twinkling lights of the city below. The Christmas tree in the corner is nearly as big as the one at the office, and every bit as gorgeous. "Um, I'm with Alaric."

"Thank God," she sighs. "I've been worried to death."

"You didn't tell your dad, did you?"

I'm sure he'll know by morning, but I'd rather not deal with him right now. I don't want a lecture about how bad this looks for him or about how foolish Jillian and I were to think we could swap places. I couldn't exactly tell the police that I'm my sister, so there's no way to keep him from finding out that I've been interning in Jillian's spot. He's going to be thrilled by that information.

Frankly, I don't care anymore. I've spent half of my life trying to turn myself into someone he could be proud to call his stepdaughter, and it never worked. No matter how hard I tried, I always fell short. Family is so important to him…and yet I never seem to be family enough. I'm never good enough. So I'm not trying anymore.

Maybe I am clumsy. Maybe I'm awkward. Maybe I say things I shouldn't or don't always agree with him and whatever platform he's running on. No one said I had to be perfect. Family is supposed to love you even when you aren't. So for Christmas this year, I'm giving myself a gift. I'm giving myself permission to stop seeking his approval. I don't need it and I don't want it anymore.

I just want to live my life.

"Of course not," Jillian says. "But you know he's going to find out."

"I know. I don't care anymore."

"Wow. I actually think you mean that."


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