The promise of December Read online

  “Noel.”

  “Oh.” She seems surprised and studies me for a second before another burst of giggles takes over.

  “What’s so funny?” I question, trying to hide my own amusement.

  “You. Santa. Noel. Christmas.” Her drunken giggles become a little harder. She’s kind of cute when drunk, innocence falling from her like a feather to the ground.

  “It’s not Noel as in Christmas, it just… well, Noel.”

  Tamzin’s hysteria clearly doesn’t want to leave her anytime soon. She’s still laughing as she leaves the bench. Looking up at the sky with her heels kicking the ground, she staggers her way down the quiet street.

  “Come on, Santa Noel,” she shouts, spinning around and having to catch her step. “This drunken girl needs a big guy to help her home if you please?”

  I took the easier option and got us a taxi. She felt so good laid up against me, my arm wrapped around her shoulders, her arm around my waist as I ran my fingers through her silky smooth hair. Once inside, I carried her to her bedroom, giggling with a muddled conversation that never made any sense. With a muffled instruction, I find a T-shirt from her drawer. When I turn back my breath catches.

  “Jesus, Tamzin,” I say barely above a whisper. She’s has no knowledge of what she’s done as she stands in just her black lace panties. My cock twitches at the sight of her. She’s even sexier than I imagined with perfect round tits, a waistline like a model and a cute little mole just above her navel. My hands are itching to touch her. I swallow the lump of desire in my throat and place the shirt over her head before helping her to bed. Kneeling beside her, I stroke her hair. “You feeling ok?”

  “Hmm. Some bastards took a sledgehammer to my head.”

  She makes me smile. “I’ll get you some water.”

  Her hand reaches out to hold my jaw, an appreciative smile on her lips as her mascara-smudged eyes struggle to stay awake. “You’re a kind man, Noel. There needs to be more people like you.”

  “Get some sleep,” I whisper.

  Her heavy eyes flutter to a close, a soft hum escaping her lips as she pulls the covers up around her chin. “What would you like for Christmas, Noel?”

  I hadn’t really thought about it. “I’m not sure, still trying to work that one out. What about you?” For a moment, I thought sleep had hit her, as there’s no reply, but then in the softest of whispers, she says.

  “I’d like to have just one Christmas to know I still believe.”

  My brows line. “In what?”

  “December.” My gut feels heavy even though I am unsure of what she means. Leaning forward, I kiss her hair while her breathing drifts into a peaceful slumber.

  “Sweet dreams, Angel.”

  Tamzin.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus.”

  I feel like crying right now. In fact, I’m pretty sure my bloodstream already is after last night’s work party. I think I have enough alcohol in my system to keep me intoxicated for the next three months. I think I’m dying. Correction I am dying!

  Warmth blasts my house from the cold outside but chills still cover my skin. Like fragile glass, I peel myself from the bed, holding my head carefully with my hands like it’s a ticking time bomb. Eyes hurting, I turn on the light to brighten the dawn morning outside my window and study my reflection in the mirror. It’s laughing at me. Grey eyes thick with sleep and smudged mascara, blonde hair more like a bird’s nest and my mouth feels like a rotten waste bag. I look like death on a stick.

  I look down at myself and run my fingers along the hem of the shirt that I’m wearing, a short but oversized charcoal T-shirt I’ve not seen in years. My feet are dirty, a sure sign that I kicked off my heels at some point on my way home. I must stop doing that.

  “Good Morning, Tamzin.”

  I freeze at the unknown voice coming from behind me. The unknown voice coming from my bed. My head pounds as my brain takes longer to catch up with my sudden turn. There’s a half-naked beast rested up on his arms as he lays on my bed with the sexiest grin any man could wear. I scan my eyes over his body. Dressed in red Santa trousers and a tribal tattoo on his shoulder, his tight toned body carries a delicious six pack. I want to touch it. I want to run my tongue over the ripples, I want his weight on mine as we do naughty things together.

  “Well don’t you look a sight for sore eyes in the morning.” He chuckles, rubbing his face on a yawn.

  I’m speechless.

  He gets up with a tall masculine stretch, scratching his chest before grabbing his shirt and coming to me. “Coffee?” he asks with raised brows before leaving me in the bedroom. Completely misplacing my vocabulary, I follow him. Memories of last night race through my head but fail to give any recollection of a man being involved.

  I’m stood frozen in my place as I watch him stroll around my kitchen. My eyes widen in disbelief as he helps himself to a mug from the cupboard, flicking the switch on the kettle and then has the nerve to move me aside to collect the milk from the fridge like he’s lived here for years.

  What the…

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  His brows rise as if I asked a ridiculous question. “Morning, Noel, thanks for getting me home safely last night. No problem, Tamzin, it’s the least I could do after you throw up everywhere and lost the use of your legs sometime around nine-thirty.”

  “Excuse me?” I don’t know what feels worse, the fact I made a complete ass of myself or the fact I can’t remember a damn thing.

  “You needed some air after too much punch. I’m surprised you could drink that shit.” He’s making a coffee. The stranger in festive fancy dress is making himself a coffee! “Then I brought you home and put you to bed.”

  My eyes hurt with how wide they are, and my mouth begins to water as his bare chest gets more desirable by the second. That ‘look but don’t touch’ torture you always suffer as a child is having the same effect on me right now, and I completely understand why I always ended up crying when my grandparents slapped my wrists and yelled at me to behave. Desperately wanting to touch what I know I can’t. I must be dreaming, he’s way too sexy to be in my house.

  “You don’t remember a thing do you?” he says, grinning. He comes closer, causing me to step back and hitting my ass on the counter. He places his hands on the worktop either side of my waist. Flutters in my belly catch me by surprise. I swallow down my heart that’s in my dry throat, his eyes focusing on my lips before flicking back to mine. “Cat got your tongue, Tami?”

  He smells divine, his proximity should be unnerving but I want it. I want him. I shake my head and try to force my words but they are nothing more than a breathy whisper. “I uh… did you… um…did we?” Get a grip woman. “Can you put a shirt on, please?”

  His grin is wicked. “Like what you see, Tamzin?”

  I feel my cheeks flush. “Just put on a shirt.”

  Once his body is covered, my eyes scan over his face more effectively than they already have. His brown eyes glisten against the light, the early morning sun that shines through the window highlighting the tips of his dark hair. His chiselled jaw has a shadow of morning scruff, proving him even hotter than a man like him should be. He was a beast, a Christmas god, and I had no idea who he was or how he got here. My mind is on overdrive, frantically trying to remember the missing parts of last night. Humiliation hits me like a freight train as I slowly start to piece the night together, but only getting the first half of the evening.

  I make my way over to the high back wooden chair that is a centrepiece in my kitchen along with the large pine dining table, aware that Santa was rifling through my cupboards and it never even bothered me.

  Noel—if that’s even his name—places a coffee in front of me along with the carton of milk and a bag of ready salted crisps. I frown and look up at him. His lips curve. “You mentioned wanting them for breakfast last night,” he says. “Unless you want something else?”

  “No... It’s fine. Thank you.” As he sits dow
n beside me, I watch him. He drinks his coffee with confidence and large hands that I imagine running up my thighs. If my grandmother were here, she’d be disgusted with my behaviour: letting a sinfully hot man into my house for the night and having no recollection of what happened. “You never answered my question,” I state.

  “I didn’t realise I had been given one.”

  I bluster out a soft laugh, reaching out to open my crisps. “This is crazy. How the hell did I remember where I lived when I don’t remember much else?”

  “You didn’t, I looked up your work profile.”

  “My work profile?” I frown. So he works at H.T. Limited? That gives me a little comfort. He’s obviously on a different floor to me. Access to that sort of information is because you are higher up in rank.

  “Tamzin King, 25yrs, born and bred in London. Orphaned at birth and raised by your grandparents, George and Ellen King. First Employment was a waitress in the dodgy place on the corner. Your favourite colour is red. You love movie nights, hot chocolate and strawberry truffles.”

  Fuck, he’s good. “Did my file also tell you when I lost my virginity?”

  “Sadly not.” He grins.

  “So you work at H.T?”

  “Not exactly. You just get a few perks for knowing someone at the top.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “Harold Thompson. He’s my father.”

  I near on spat my coffee out. “You’re Thompson’s son? You? As in… he’s your dad?”

  “It usually works that way, yes.” He laughs.

  I suddenly feel indecent in my short bed shirt and panties. And then if that isn’t bad enough, last month’s meeting replays in my head as recollection slaps me in the face. “Wait a minute. If he’s your dad, then…” He is smiling, as if he knows I’d just fixed the puzzle. “Oh shit, you’re the son that’s taking over his company.”

  “That’s me.”

  I feel sick. My new-to-be sinfully hot boss is sat across the table from me after taking his shit-faced employee home from making a total idiot of herself. “Jesus, this gets crazier by the second.”

  “There’s nothing crazy about it, Tamzin. I’m a man, you’re a woman, it’s just coincidence that I’m soon to be the one that pays your wage. These things happen.” It sounds as though he’s trying to reassure me.

  “Yeah, because it’s just luck that my boss who I’ve not officially met yet happened to escort me home and see me naked.”

  “You’re very sexy naked.” He grins. I choose not to respond; my cheeks are already talking for me. His expression changes, a look of concern moving across his features. “Do you often get that drunk?” If I didn’t feel ashamed already, he’s working wonders to bring me further down.

  “Is this where you reprimand me on being a disgrace to your company and a laughing stock to the city’s population?”

  “Not at all.” He sits forward and takes my hand in his. “I’m just curious.”

  I pull away from him. “I don’t usually drink that much, but it was a party and alcohol was there and...” It’s December! I sigh and rise to my feet, walking to place my mug in the sink. “Look. I’m really sorry, for everything.”

  “You don’t have to apologise, Tamzin. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” Tingles travel throughout my body as his eyes scan over me. I can only imagine what he’s thinking at the state of my post-drunkenness. “I best be going.” He comes over and places his mug next to mine. He’s close again, and that bundle of nerves between my thighs wants to play. “Are you going to be ok?”

  “Yes,” I murmur. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll see you soon.” To my surprise, he kisses my head. His lips are warm against my skin. They feel so good. With one final look, he heads out the door. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry because as soon as he leaves, the whole house feels empty. Confusion fries my brain at a dangerous level, and I realise he never answered my question. Making sure he’s actually gone, I run to my room and grab my phone, dialling Evie’s number in the hope she will set me straight.

  “Evie, I’ve done something shamefully terrible.”

  “Ugh, what’ve you done this time?”

  “I think I’ve fucked Santa.”

  Noel.

  “Uncle No-No, Uncle No-No!” Little Ruby shouts, running across the garden from my brother’s house. I’d not even got out the car before I heard her screech with excitement. Her tight brown curls fly in the cold wind as her big brown eyes are as wide as her smile.

  I crouch down with my arms out as she leaps into them. There is something about this kid that would allow her get away with murder. “Hey, Ruby-Lou. How’s my girl?”

  “Daddy’s putting the Christmas tree up and mummy is baking cupcakes.” Her voice is soft, and her button nose has a hint of pink as little puffs of vapour leave her mouth when she speaks against the cold.

  “Mummy’s baking again, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she comes in close to my ear, placing her hand to her mouth and whispers. “She burnt the last lot but told me not to tell.”

  I chuckle, three years old and full of cuteness. “Come on, let’s get you out the cold.” My brother's place is a delicious smell of cinnamon, freshly baked cakes and woodland pine. Christmas music plays out loudly through the old Edwardian style house as pine needles from the Christmas tree trail the carpet.

  “Hi, handsome. I wondered when you’d pop over.” My brother’s wife, Karen, beams from across the kitchen, turning down the music. Her brown hair tousled up in a ponytail, cheeks flush from the oven heat and a snowflake patterned waist apron around her middle.

  I kiss her cheek, still with Ruby in my arms. “Hey, Karen. How’s the baking? Burnt any today?”

  “Ruby Thompson, have you been snitching on mummy again?” Her tickles cause Ruby to squirm and giggle against my chest. “I burnt one batch, and that was only because I was helping James in with the tree.”

  “I think Uncle No-No, needs to try a cuppie-cake, mummy,” Ruby says. “He needs to see if they’re good enough.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For Santa.” Her wide milk tooth grin is adorable as her eyes light up. I play along with her excitement.

  “Santa is coming?! No way!”

  “Yes, way!” She squeezes my cheeks with her small hands. I can’t help but wonder if Tamzin was ever this excited as a kid knowing now just the mention of the word Christmas sends her on a downward spiral. “He’s coming in a few weeks, Uncle No-No, remember?”

  “Only if you’re a good girl,” Karen says, taking a tray of cakes out the oven.

  “Ah, shit!” My brother groans from the living room. I look back at Karen and grin as she rolls her eyes.

  “Mummy, Daddy said a bad word. I don’t think he’s going to be good enough for Santa.”

  I chuckle and put Ruby down. As I enter the living room, I find boxes of decorations scattered and the biggest Christmas tree in history. “Jesus, is your tree big enough?”

  “Don’t get me started. I told Karen it was too big and this was the smaller one out the two.”

  “It’s Christmas,” Karen shouts from the kitchen. “What’s the point in having a big house with a small tree to get swallowed up in?”

  “Nothing, babe, it just kills my back more each year,” James answers. “These bad boys aren’t exactly light when they’re freshly cut and full of sap.”

  Karen shouts again. “Noel, do you want coffee?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  This is the Thompson family tradition. A real Christmas tree. Picked together as a family and freshly cut from the local woodland that opened its doors December 1st, acres of land filled with every size tree you can imagine. My brothers and I use to run in between the forest as the earthy pine filled our lungs. I miss those days. It’s not the same going to pick a tree for a house that only you live in. One year, I thought I’d be different and went for the easier option and bought an artificial one. My mother hit the roof,
stripped it bare and took it to the charity shop, then gave me a lecture on how I should be ashamed I broke tradition.

  “So how was the party?” James asks, sliding his way out from behind the tree to finish the lights.

  “Alright, met a few contacts. Got to know a few people. You know how it goes.”

  Again, I think of Tamzin. I’ve not stopped thinking of her. How can one woman, off her face and completely clueless, make me have this unusual feeling inside of me? I hated leaving her this morning, I want to know more about her. I need to know more.

  I’m brought out of my thoughts as a bauble lands on my lap. “Come on then.” James grins.

  “What?”

  “Who is she? I’ve been talking to myself the last few minutes so I know your vacancy involves a woman.”

  “Who’s got a woman?” Karen asks, coming in with my coffee.

  I sit forward, unsure as to say anything but know I won’t keep my mouth shut even if I tried. “I met this girl last night. She got very drunk.”

  My brother chuckles. “That’s probably because you were there.”

  “James.” Karen glares.

  “She’s different. There’s something about her that just draws me in but something’s missing. Like she’s lost her sparkle or something.”

  “And let me guess; you want to be the hero that fixes the damsel?” He smiles.

  I shrug my shoulder. “Maybe. I just can’t get her out my head. I need to see her again.”

  “What’s stopping you?” Karen enquires.

  There isn’t anything stopping me. There’s no denying I want her. Her body is a diamond. And I’m determined to reach in and find the light in her eyes that hides just below the surface. “Nothing’s stopping me. And nothing is going to.”

  “Then go fix her sparkle, little brother.”

  My decision is made. Like it or not I am going to wade into Tamzin King’s life more than I already have.

  Tamzin.