Red-Hot Santa

And so began their lifelong friendship, as he liked to say whenever he told the story, usually adding a bloody nose to the equation. Namely, his.

For her, well … she’d fallen in love on the spot. And she’d always found some sort of asinine way to cover up the unwanted emotion … until now.

Now she was determined to let him know exactly what she had in mind … and exactly how she felt. But she’d take it slow, hoping it would guarantee something enduring … and not send him running flat out in the opposite direction.

The reason for her change of mind? She’d come to realize there was no going forward in any of her relationships until she went back.

“I’d better get inside,” she said, giving him her best smile.

She slowly slid a piece of gum into her mouth and then offered him a piece. He appeared so distracted by her movements, he didn’t even see the gum.

“What? Oh. Yeah. Me, too.”

She was self-conscious as she led the way back inside, forcing herself not to fight him over control of the door. She slipped out of her coat as she walked with slow, measured steps, satisfied at the sound of his breath hissing through his teeth. Yeah, she looked good in the tight jeans and low-cut shirt she had on. She knew that. And she was pleased that he did, too.

“Here, I’ll stash your coat behind the bar with mine,” he said.

“Thanks.” She handed her jacket over, put on her Santa hat and then applied lip-gloss. She slid the tube into a tiny inside pocket of her jeans. “I haven’t seen some of these friends for years. How do I look?” she asked.

“Huh?” It seemed to take him a moment to register her question. “Oh. Great. Fine. You look good.”

Great to fine to good. Definitely the wrong direction.

But that was Jax for you. Getting a compliment from him had always been like pulling teeth.

Good thing she’d recently decided he needed to make an appointment with the dentist …

Friends. Best friends. That’s what they’d always been. He’d had her back, and she’d had his. When neither of them were in a relationship, they’d sought out each other for company. Platonic company. From swimming in the Keys, kayaking the Colorado River, day-long hikes through whatever remote forest they could find, she’d always enjoyed his company. Sometimes they’d talk about their struggles with understanding the opposite sex, as if they didn’t qualify for the status, but most times they joked, challenged and dared each other.

Then there’d been those occasions when simple platonic affection had threatened to balloon into much more …

Merely remembering the times they’d wrestled around on the ground, or playfully tussled in the water, her sexual awareness taking her breath away, made her all hot and bothered.

Jackson … well, Jackson was as hot as they came. All golden haired goods looks and animal magnetism.

But it was much more than that. Much, much more. She knew what the man himself was made of. She knew that beating in his chest was a heart of gold that left him loyal to his family, doing anything for his grandmother and brother Jason … and loyal to his friends. She knew he’d be the first to stand in the face of danger, to put his life on the line if he knew it might save someone else’s.

It was in those moments when barriers dropped, that she glimpsed what life might be like for them as a couple …

And she’d turned away, always refusing herself the indulgence. She was afraid of the enormity of her emotions, afraid of tarnishing their friendship.

And afraid of leaving herself vulnerable. While threat of physical pain had never fazed her, leaving her heart exposed and unprotected scared the living daylights out of her.

If only because she’d witnessed firsthand what it had done to her mother.

Done to their family.

Now …

Well, now was different. She was no longer that rebellious girl who’d run away and holed up in his barn. The girl afraid of her emotions … and of him.

Now she wanted to push that envelope, dive into those depths, explore them, face her one and only fear.

She needed to learn that untouched side of her, the one she’d ignored, neglected and tried to shut out.

She needed to feel him …

HOLY SHIT.

The two words wound around Jackson’s brain as he watched Max sitting with her friends. He kept looking for reasons to talk to her but there never seemed to be an opportunity, considering one nonstop flow of thirsty customers who kept him busy. And he never saw her go out back for another smoke break.

He scratched his head as he rang up the latest order, looking for her again in the smoky mirror behind the bar. She was standing in front of the old fashioned jukebox considering the selections. His gaze fell to her nicely rounded backside and then up to where the soft cotton of her top clung to breasts fuller than he remembered. His back stiffened as he watched a guy approach her. Not just any guy, but Tom, whom they referred to as the bar “manwhore.” Just the type Max would hate on sight.

He braced himself, wondering if Tom would take it to the head or the gut.

Here it comes …

He watched as Tom not too nonchalantly slid his hand over her back, down toward her bottom. Max easily avoided the move and actually smiled before heading back to her table.

Jackson blinked. Who was this woman? She looked the same. Well, for the most part. The red curls were the same except they appeared smoother, somehow. Less wild. Her eyes were the same green but appeared brighter. And was she wearing makeup?

Jackson was confused. The Max he knew wouldn’t be caught dead in that sexy outfit, not before or during her stint in the Marines, much less handle what she just had with smiling ease. She’d have been much more likely to twist the guy’s arm behind his back and shove his face into the jukebox until he apologized for the unwanted advance.

Jackson met her gaze in the mirror and that mysterious smile she’d been offering him all night made a command appearance.

Holy shit.

Where was the easy camaraderie they always enjoyed? The knowing that came along with their lifelong friendship?

Christ, he felt like a twelve-year-old kid in the throes of his first crush.

And that was not something he was used to feeling toward a woman who was essentially his best friend.

Hell, it wasn’t something he was used to feeling, period.

This went well beyond physical attraction—which should be enough to cause concern when it came to Max …

His brain froze.

No way he was going where his thoughts and unfamiliar emotions were attempting to lead him. It was bad enough he recognized the desire to touch her in ways he never had before. To consider anything more would be akin to emotional suicide.

“Hey, did you get that, Savage?” Chuck asked.

He blinked at the bar owner. As en ex-Marine, Chuck Thomas had a healthy respect for military kindred and ran a tight operation. When things got busy, so did he. Of course, it didn’t help that Chuck wasn’t happy Jackson would no longer be working at the bar. He’d made noises about looking to sell the place, and admitted he had hoped Jackson might be interested. Jackson had been surprised, but quick to tell Chuck it wasn’t in the cards for him.

“Sorry,” he said to his taciturn boss now, keeping the peace. “I was working up the last order. Afraid I overcharged.”

“Better than under. I asked for two pitchers of light and six glasses. Can you handle it?”