A Bad Boy for Christmas Read Free

thirty-one.”
    “Date of birth?”
    “December nineteenth.”
    Eli choked on the beer he’d just set to his lips. Caleb helped his younger brother out with a pat on the back guaranteed to send a lighter man sprawling and a smirk that Cutter could read only too well.
    Cutter wouldn’t be thirty-one until the fourth of February. The doppelganger was about six weeks older than him, which meant Cutter had just lost his elder brother status. “Not one goddamn word,” he warned them.
    “No swearing around our sister,” Caleb cautioned cheerfully. “Hey, you think she’s older than you too?”
    “No.” He spared her another glance and tried not to linger.
    “People always look younger when they haven’t been in the sun,” Caleb countered.
    “I’m right here, boys. Why don’t you ask?”
    But Cutter didn’t need to ask. He’d been studying women since puberty. “Twenty-four, twenty-five, tops. The miles on her are experience driven, not time related.”
    “Oh, so you’re the charmer ,” she said. “How does that work out for you?”
    “Can I gag her?” he asked of no one in particular.
    Eli shook his head sorrowfully.
    “Push her off the jetty?”
    Caleb signaled the iffy-ness of that with the wiggle of a flat hand.
    “Take her fishing?”
    “I could go fishing,” she said.
    “ No! ” his younger brothers said in unison. Protective already, Cutter noted with grim amusement. His protective instincts had yet to kick in.
    Truth be told, when it came to Mia you’re going to love me , his instincts remained downright unbrotherly.
    His brooding gaze collided with that of the older man, and for a moment Cutter thought he saw a flash of sympathy in those all too familiar shaped eyes.
    “She’s twenty-five,” Nash said. “And you can tell when she’s nervous by the number of insults she starts throwing around.”
    “Feel free to share,” she said, clearly stung by her big brother’s words.
    It was all just too much. Cutter had tried to take her and her brother in his stride, never mind the shock. He was trying, as they spoke, to sort through the implications for his family. His father had probably—clearly—gotten two women pregnant at around about the same time, and whether he’d known about both was anyone’s guess.
    Cutter was guessing not.
    “I’m thirty-one in February,” he said. “I was born eight months after my parents married. It was a shotgun wedding, but they’ve been together now for thirty years. They built a life together. There was always love. Still is.” That much he could give the man who wore his face. “I don’t know where you fit in, but you might.”
    His gaze slid to Mia. He didn’t know where she fit in at all, other than in his wildest fantasies. “You should go. Give us some time to adjust. See if we can get you some answers. If you’re sticking around the Bay we’ll find you. If not, well. Leave your number on the noticeboard on your way out.”
    Nash nodded, before looking over at the woman. “Mia? You ready?”
    Mia finished her beer with impressive speed, burped, balanced the bottle precariously on top of a carburetor on a nearby bench and turned to exit. Her legs were great, her butt was round, her dress was backless, and—
    “What in hell is that ?” Cutter growled. Because the creamy skin was gone, replaced by a swirling morass of fine lines and greenish-black-on-gray coloring.
    “Could be a frigate,” said Eli with a tilt of his head.
    “Could be a man-o’-war,” offered Caleb. “Definitely a maelstrom.”
    The sinking ship tattoo covered her back from the tips of her shoulder blades to way down somewhere below the line of her dress. A work of art, drawn by a master’s hand, and it was beautiful, no question, on that backdrop of milky skin.
    Desecration.
    It was that too.
    “Probably not a good idea to ask her why she did it,” Nash muttered. “Been there, done that. Didn’t end well.”
    “Wouldn’t have happened on my