Greatest Gift Read Free Page A

It was reliable, and
parts were still readily available. Pretty much the only reason she kept the
old beast. That and it was made from American steel, a fucking tank as her
daddy had once put it, rest his soul.
    She turned the key and got the mandatory clicking.
A quick pump to the accelerator to get the gas moving, and then she counted to
ten. Another turn to start the engine. Only this time, nothing. That wasn’t
right.
    Frowning, she waited a couple seconds longer before
trying once again. Nada. Shit! Okay, okay, it was clicking but not turning
over. The ignition was fine, but it could be the fuel lines. Think, Holland,
think. She gave it one more pump from her foot. She knew to be careful or
she’d end up flooding the engine. Counting again, she gave it a couple more
seconds before turning the key. Click, click, nothing.
    “You sack of shit! After all I do to keep you
running and you decide the coldest fucking night of the damn year is a good
time to fucking die. Argh!”
    The deep male laughter startled her from her mad,
and had her peering through the frosty glass at Jakob .
Pushing open the door, she got out, and slammed it closed. She would have given
into her driving need to kick the fucking car except that it was steel, and
would hurt, and it was also fucking slippery out. She did not need to land on
her ass in a snowbank to top the night off.
    “This is not funny, Nichols.”
    “It actually is,” he said. Having stopped scrapping
during her rant, he leaned an arm on the roof. “You’re going to need a mechanic
to look at this crate, I think you have a problem.”
    “Yeah, you think?” Men! Fucking assholes all
seemed to turn into a car expert until you popped the hood. Even then some
would brazen it out. Cursing under her breath, some directed toward her car,
some toward the infuriating male, Holland grabbed her bag from the passenger
seat and locked the car back up.
    She was not looking forward to the walk home. After
digging out her cap, she tugged it on until her ears were covered, and then
wound the scarf from her bag around her face.
    “Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
    “Home, it’s fucking
freezing out here. And the damn thing isn’t moving for me so it won’t be moving
for anyone else either, it can stay here until tomorrow. Now, if you’ll excuse
me, it’s a long, frozen walk home.” In boots not made to handle the snow and
ice. She’d be careful, extremely careful.
    A hand grabbing her elbow nearly sent her flying when
she freaked out. “Not happening. Come on, princess. Your chariot awaits up the
street. Fucking let you walk home and I’ll never stop hearing about it. God
help us if you freeze to death. Folks around here don’t tend to let shit like
that drop. Ever.”
    “I can walk home fine, thank you,” she said in her
frostiest tone. Which apparently went right over his head. Jakob wasn’t listening, and was actually dragging her to his vehicle. “I think this
is kidnapping when the person you’re insisting gets into a vehicle with you
doesn’t actually want to get into said vehicle.”
    He stopped to look at her, and up went an eyebrow.
“You’re right. In that case let’s at least make it an official kidnapping
then.”
    Before she could ask him what the hell he meant,
Holland found herself tossed over his shoulder like a potato sack. Confronted
by a toned ass wrapped to perfection in soft, well-worn denim, it took her a
couple seconds to compute what was happening. Then she did the only thing any
red-blooded woman would do in such a situation. She grabbed two handfuls, and
squeezed. He didn’t drop her, and the answering slap to her ass only gave her
motivation to squeeze again. She could be pissed with the caveman routine
later. For the time being, she had Jakob Nichols’s
ass in her hands. Maybe there was a Santa after all.

 
    Chapter Four
     
    He’d fully expected to get an earful for his
behavior. Hell, Jakob wouldn’t have blamed Holland in
the