Page 47 of Single Mom's Christmas Wish

“Katherine was my grandmother. I am one of her next of kin,” Dakota replies and gets up. “I need more ice for these drinks. Do you guys want anything?”

Archer blocks her and wraps his arms around her. She doesn’t try to get away, but she avoids his gaze altogether. “If you’re not going to tell us what’s bothering you, we’re going to get it out ofyou one way or another,” he says, his voice low and heavy.

“Maybe we should just forget movie night and head to the bedroom,” Dakota says, completely changing course.

She’s shaking like a leaf in my brother’s arms. Whatever burden she’s been carrying inside her since Chappaqua is putting tremendous pressure on her.

If we can’t solve it for her, we can at least make her feel better and take the edge off.

And there’s nothing I like more than to feel her when she comes, hard and wet all over me, while I lose myself inside her. My pants feel tighter as I get up and join Archer. Maddox stands as well, and Dakota melts between us. We kiss the troubles away, one inch of silky, soft skin at a time.

“Take me,” she whispers in my ear and kisses the side of my neck.

I peel the shirt off her body and enjoy the feel of her full, heavy breasts in my bare hands, kneading the flesh as I listen to the sound of her ragged breathing. Maddox gets her out of her jeans, eager to spread her legs and lick her wet, delicious folds, while Archer gathers her long hair into a loose bun on the top of her head so he can kiss the back of her neck.

So much for movie night.

16

Dakota

It’s late November, and San Francisco is putting out its first round of festive decorations. This may be California, but they can still whip up winter holiday spirit out in the streets and on every storefront. My hometown doesn’t disappoint.

In past years, I’d always been a tad more excited about Christmas. It used to be my favorite holiday growing up. After my parents died, however, I almost swore off it. I just couldn’t seem to enjoy it as much without my mom and dad, but Sally pulled me back in, and I’ve been joyfully celebrating it ever since.

This year, unfortunately, the approach of Christmas fills me with dread.

The clock keeps ticking on the inheritance, and I have yet to find the right way to express my needs and concerns about it with the Faulkner brothers. No matter how I spin it, I still feel like a user. I am ashamed for having such a want, but Chelsea keeps reminding me it’s eighty million dollars. Money that could completely change my and my daughter’s life in ways I could never imagine.

“What person in their right mind wouldn’t try to lock down that money?” she says as we leave Trevor and Maisie to play in the living room while we move our conversation into her kitchen, a handful of feet away. “You have to tell them about it, Dakota.”

“And risk disappointment?” I shoot back. “Marriage is a sacred institution, Chelsea. I can’t just ask one of them to marry me solely for this inheritance.”

“You’re going to lose the house,” she bitterly reminds me.

“I’m well aware.”

It’s too much to bear. Not even my cocktail-making endeavors can take the edge off lately. Maisie can feel my anxiety levels rising, too. I shouldn’t have gone to that funeral in the first place. With this now hanging over me, even my evenings with the brothers haven’t been as enjoyable.

They’ve been picking up on my raw nerves, trying to figure out what’s going on, and I always end up rushing out of their house like it’s on fire, sprinkling apologies in my wake. It’s building tension between us, and I fear it will eventually blow up in my face.

“The worst that can happen is that they’ll all say no,” Chelsea insists as she pours us some coffee. “At least then you’ll know where you stand.”

“Yeah, and I might end up resenting them for it. I know they are in no way obligated to help me, but still, I’d probably resent them if they said no, at least a little bit.”

“You can’t say that for sure. Come on, Dakota, you’re a reasonable and kind woman. You’re not asking them to hurt somebody or to commit some kind of felony. It’s just marriage.”

I can’t help but laugh bitterly at the sound of that. “It’sjustmarriage?”

“You’ve already had a nasty taste of it so you might as well gain something this time around. It’seighty…million…dollars.”

“You’re making all the sense in the world, but it’s like my heart and my brain are going to war on the ethical aspects here,” I reply. “On top of that, not knowing what they’ll say feels slightly better than actually hearing them say no. Because if they do say no, it might dampen our relationship, and we’d eventually drift apart. I’d be busier than usual—”

“You would absolutely be busier because you’re going to lose the house!” Chelsea hisses, almost at her wit’s end. “Are you seriously ready to lose your and Maisie’s home when you could just take the plunge and tell the Faulkner’s about the inheritance? We both know you’re not going to tell them about the foreclosure notice because God forbid, you let a man, or anyone else, help you.”

“Hey,” I shoot back, somewhat aggravated. “I relied on a man before. You saw where it got me. I’m scared, okay?”

Chelsea takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. “I get it, honey. But here’s the thing. Keith isn’t really a man. A guy who walks out on his wife and daughter after said wife took a mortgage out on her own home to support his stupid Los Angeles dreams cannot possibly be considered a man.” She adds milk to my coffee. “The Faulkner brothers strike me as real men. What if they actually want to help you?”

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