New Hope, Old Grudges Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Anne Malcom Advertisement1

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It was easy to forget that Brody Adams, the current sheriff, my old bully, my new—boyfriend?—had also once been some kind of special ops soldier. Had been a deadly, highly trained, dangerous individual.

It was impossible to forget all that in that moment. And so help me God, I found it hot as hell.

I grasped his stubbled chin in my hands, forcing his face downward, toward mine. “As much as it’s … sweet that you think beating up my ex is a nice gesture, can we maybe do something more traditional? Flowers? Chocolate? Steak dinner?”

Brody just blinked as my words filtered past all that masculine rage I’d previously thought myself too evolved to find attractive. My panties made a liar out of me.

“But he ruined your life.”

I tilted my head to regard him and ponder that statement. Yes, Geoff had ruined my business, decimated my finances, and then demolished my reputation—in certain circles, at least, circles I now knew I didn’t need to be a part of—but had he ruined my life?

“A couple of months ago, I might’ve agreed with you,” I cupped his cheeks. “But from where I’m standing, my life doesn’t seem all that ruined.”

I whispered the last part. Because I was kind of a coward. Brody had been speaking freely about his feelings, yet I’d been keeping mine close to my chest, still afraid of getting hurt.

Brody’s eyes no longer blazed with fury as he regarded me. No, they were twinkling now. With tenderness.

I would say love, but that was utterly ridiculous. It was ridiculous for one of us—me—to be feeling that. He couldn’t be too.

Before he could say anything, a flash of purple distracted me.

I didn’t know whether it was a coincidence, whether word really did travel that fast in small towns or my mother really was clairvoyant like she claimed to be. However she found herself in the coffee shop didn’t matter, because she found Geoff, made a beeline for him, then didn’t hesitate to plow her fist through his face.

My mother.

The petite woman who wouldn’t harm a honeybee. Who had never so much raised her voice in anger let alone a fist. Punched my ex-fiancé. In the face.

I gasped as he crumpled to the floor.

She stood over him. “That’s for hurting my little girl.”

My eyes were wide as I took my mother in. Brody’s were not. They were alight with delight, his mouth turned up in satisfaction.

“Sheriff.” Mom turned to him, straightening her scarves. “I think there’s a fugitive for you to apprehend.”

Then she walked over to me and kissed me full on the lips. “We’ll see you both for Christmas dinner tomorrow," she said. “Bring pie.” Then she sauntered off from the café.

CHRISTMAS EVE

WILLOW

In all of the excitement of the afternoon—Geoff turning up in New Hope, being threatened by Brody, punched by my mother, then arrested by Brody—I hadn’t been able to inform him of my news or my plans.

He’d been tied up with the paperwork it took to transfer someone wanted out of state. I’d met him at his place because we’d already made plans to spend Christmas Eve together.

I hadn’t mentioned going to Christmas dinner at my mother’s house, but I assumed that’s what we’d both be doing.

My mother had her own Christmas Eve tradition with her local ‘coven’ which I did not partake in.

Instead, I’d gone to Brody’s, cooked us some Christmas Eve fettuccine—an ode to The Holiday—put on a movie, then curled up with him after he told me Geoff was ‘taken care of.’

“You don’t mean dead, right?” I asked him.

He chuckled. “No, baby. With the proper authorities.”

I nodded. “Just checking.”

Deciding that I’d utilized enough brain power thinking about Geoff, I changed the subject, putting down my mug of hot cider—my mother had packed a thermos for me to bring—and faced Brody.

“I know you don’t have many holiday traditions—”

“I don’t have any holiday traditions,” he corrected. Then his eyes went to the tree, and they darkened. “Well, I have some new ones I’m a big fucking fan of.”

My body flushed with heat, knowing that he was thinking about us fucking in front of the Christmas tree after I’d finished decorating it.

“Yeah, that’s a new one for me too,” I murmured.

“Like that,” he kissed my head before returning his eyes to me. “Making new traditions with you.”

My heart sang with the weight of his words. He was free with saying those things, declarations that were far too intense and permanent sounding for how long we’d been together. He made it sound like it wasn’t a question whether we’d be here next year with the same traditions.

I swallowed on that thought, my stomach pitching, and I wasn’t sure if it was with discomfort or excitement.

Luckily, I had something to distract me.

I reached forward to my purse, retrieving the small, wrapped box from it.


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