Greatest Gift

Evernight Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright©
2015 Moira Callahan

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-625-2

Cover Artist: Jay
Aheer

Editor: Stephanie
Balistreri

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized
reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

GREATEST
GIFT

Moira
Callahan

Copyright © 2015

Chapter One

Humming softly along with the Christmas tunes
playing over the stereo, Holland swiped a cloth over the bar top. It was busy
work to keep herself from going stir crazy on a slow night. She had the usual
regulars scattered around the joint to give her a few tasks here and there. The
good old boys who arrived at the same time each evening, and then departed at
the same time each night.

They were more accurate than the clock hanging over
the bar. A rather sad state when she thought about it, but the pub owner loved
the damn temperamental thing. Which meant it stayed, period.

A hand lifting up caught her eye. Noting the table,
she gave a nod, and moved to pour four more drafts for the gents. The door
opened, and preceded by an arctic blast, another regular came inside. Boots
stomped, jacket shaken, and greetings called out. He turned to catch her eye,
and with a nod, Holland waved him to his usual seat.

She grabbed the bottle, and after popping the cap
off, slid it down the bar to his spot. It took precision to get a bottle to
stop where it needed to, something she’d practiced often when she’d started
working for Marty. He kept the damned thing waxed to a high sheen, and expected
it to be maintained by whomever had the shift behind it, which provided the
perfect glassy surface. She’d had more than one incident where she’d applied
too much force and sent a bottle off the far end. Not exactly her finest
moments.

After delivering the pints to the table, she
stopped to chat with the newcomer. Carl was an unusual bird, but she happened
to like his slightly colorful personality. “Did you get all your shopping done,
Carl?”

Over the menu, the man—and every other regular had
memorized—shot her a look and snorted. “The missus told me this morning we need
to go out tomorrow night together for the grandbabies gifts. She seems to think
having me along with her is a good thing.”

Holland hid the grin curving her lips at the morose
tone in his faint lilting Irish accent by adjusting a few items below the bar
top. She felt for him. Not everyone liked having to shop, especially during the
big crush.

“I guess that means we won’t see you tomorrow
then.”

“Not unless I can find a way out,” he muttered. His
attention returned to the menu.

Like many other regulars, Carl liked to browse the
entire thing before ordering his favorite item. But she waited patiently for
him to make the choice. It was something she’d learned early on. Marty had told
her the regulars were stuck in their ways, and to roll with it. It had taken
her a while, but she got it now.

Five minutes later, he gave her his order, the same
as always. She loved how predictable these guys were. God help her if they ever
decided to actually change up their meals. Putting in his order, she made the
rounds to collect empty glasses, confirm the refills, and wave off the guys who
were heading back out into the blustery pre-Christmas weather.

Shivering when another draft came through, she
looked up to greet whomever it was. Not a regular since they were all settled
in, or heading home. Holland stifled the instinctive curse when she spotted
who’d wandered in. Fucking
Jakob
Nichols and his
freakin
’ sidekicks Nixon Teller and Grady Phelps. Not what
she needed on an otherwise halfway decent night.

She held back the instinctive sneer, barely, and
nodded to them. They settled in at the bar, because taking a table well away
from her would have been too convenient by half.
Assholes
. “What can I get for you?” she asked, passing them a menu
each.

Jakob
eyed her up and down before turning his frosty grey gaze to the menu.
Oh, how she disliked the guy. There was something about him that made her want
to smack him. Then there were her truly crazy moments when she wanted to tear
his shirt off and jump his bones. The man was built, no denying that. If she
wanted to keep her red-blooded woman card she had to give him that much at
least.

It was his icy, snarly attitude she could do
without. If she could muzzle him he’d probably be a catch. Sadly, she didn’t
think he’d go for that. He was too alpha to submit to anyone especially a
woman. A real shame, she could think of a couple hoops she’d like to make him
jump through.

His sidekicks ordered a lager draft each while
frowning at the menus in hand. Moving to pour their beers, she felt his chilly
gaze coast over her. It took all her will not to give into the shiver
threatening to run up and down her body. Instead, she focused on the perfect
pour, and setting the glasses down smoothly before the guys.

They gave her their orders efficiently, and then
scooping up the mugs, they headed to the pool table. Which left Holland
practically alone with
Jakob
. Not good. She stared
after them and wondered what force in the universe she’d pissed off enough to
torture her this way.

Slowly, she returned her gaze to
Jakob
. Holland had the sudden compelling urge to clear her
throat repeatedly, and shift around on her feet. She manage to stifle both
nearly driving needs. But it was a damn close thing. Instead, she lifted an
eyebrow and hoped he took it for the silent prompt it was.

“Bottled dark ale.”

With a nod, she moved to the fridge to collect his
beverage. The fact her hands might have been shaking wasn’t something he needed
to know about. That
Jakob
was the reason was not
something to share either. Steadying her hands, Holland removed the cap, and
set the chilled bottle before him.

When she caught a wave from the regulars’ table in
the back corner relief poured through her. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it to
the taps to get them fresh brews. A warm, calloused, male hand landed on her
wrist to shackle her arm. While Holland could have shaken him off she couldn’t
seem to make her body perform the action when it was
Jakob’s
hand. Damn man seemed to have cast a spell over her.

Looking at him, she waited silently to find out
what he might want now. She would have asked but her tongue was firmly glued
against her palate. A regular event around
Jakob
.

“We’ll get burgers, two rare, one medium rare,
fries on the side for one rare and the medium, onion rings for the other rare
burger. And we’ll need vinegar too, please.”

Stunned that he knew the word, she pointedly looked
at her wrist, and then back his direction. For a long moment, Holland wasn’t a
hundred percent sure he’d let go, but then his fingers slid off her skin. His
callouses rasped lightly to her flesh creating a wonderful sensation contrast
that had her brain wondering what that touch would feel like on other parts.
More sensitive parts.

Holland got gone while the getting was good. She
put in the order, and then took a quick minute in the kitchens to
hyperventilate. When she was back under some semblance of control she headed
back out front. Avoiding looking his way, she attended to distributing more
beers, collecting empties, and getting paid by those heading out into the
blustery night.

She made one last trip to the only table left once
she’d fed
Jakob’s
group. The one who’d lost their
bet, whatever it might have been, followed her back to the bar to settle their
tab. Thanking him, and the others, she watched them head out the door. And then
she was alone with
Jakob
, Nixon, and Grady who
appeared nowhere near ready to head off.

Given the hour, she knew there wouldn’t be any
stragglers coming in with the storm outside. With that in mind, she went to
talk with the cook, and told him to head off. Marty would have had a fit, but
to hell with him. If the guys needed anything more to eat she could manage.
While she may not be a culinary expert she wasn’t a complete spaz in the
kitchen.

Locking up the back door after he left, Holland
groaned. She knew she should start to shut down for the night. The guys were
entertaining themselves between the pool table, and the juke box. Clean up
would keep her busy in between getting them more drinks for whatever time they
planned to stick it out. That thought firmly in mind, she headed for the front
with her spray bottle, and a rag.

Chapter Two

She was avoiding him. Not that
Jakob
particularly blamed her. He hadn’t exactly gone over and above to make Holland
feel anything but discomfort in his presence. It made life easier if he didn’t
have to worry about her liking him. Or he had thought it would make everything
easier, instead it had only complicated the matter and not shut down his own
driving need to be around her. One of the biggest reasons
Jakob
avoided the pub whenever possible.

To spend more time around Holland might well be a
great idea on one hand, on the other, it was like putting on his own cuffs and
then dropping the keys down a storm drain.
Jakob
personally would rather shooting himself in the foot than do that shit.
Unfortunately, getting close to
her
had been
unavoidable tonight.

The bar he and his buddies usually went to was
closed for the Christmas break. The owner had a couple little girls who he
always put above anything, or anyone else. And when the girls had wanted to do
Christmas out at the family's cabin it had sealed the plans in stone. Which
also meant that anyone who normally hit up the bar either had to come to the
pub with the much more pleasant atmosphere, and Holland, or head into the city
their town was practically a suburb of.

Tempted though he’d been to head into the city, he
couldn’t bring himself to justify it when the weather was so bad. Between Nix
and Grady he’d have had to listen to them riding his ass all night. They knew
well and good that Holland fucked with
Jakob’s
head.
The only reason they didn’t give him a harder time was because he flat out
refused to allow it to affect his everyday life. Not always the easiest task,
but he managed. Most days.

What he couldn’t understand was why they were, for
all intents and purposes, ignoring him. Except for when they’d first come in,
Nixon and Grady had stayed over at the jukebox and pool table. The one time
Jakob
wandered over had been to eat, and then they’d pretty
much told him to bugger off. This was not their normal behavior. These two
assholes seemed to prefer making his life miserable by harassing him in some
subtle, and other not quite as subtle ways. Giving him space was definitely not
in their wheelhouse.

The soft wash of her scent like orchids was his
only warning before she spoke. “Another?”

Knowing she meant another ale,
Jakob
nodded. He didn’t watch her straight on, she got extremely uncomfortable when
he did. It was a pretty common occurrence for him. She wasn’t the first person
he’d made uncomfortable, and he doubted she’d be the last.

“Thanks,” he murmured when the full chilled bottle
replaced the empty warm one. Wrapping his hand around the bottle, he lifted it
to take a refreshing sip. From the corner of his eye, he could see her pause,
her gaze on him, and then she stepped from view. He knew exactly where she was
without looking her way, his body was that tuned into hers.

Yeah, he fucking wanted her. Had from day one if he
was to be honest with himself. It was her wariness around him that put him off.
He knew on first meeting any human, male or female, would instinctively react
to the fact
Jakob
was a predator. That Holland had
persisted in tiptoeing around him had only pissed him off. The beast within
wanted to bite her, and then pet her until she came around to understanding.
Jakob
had put up with enough disdain in his life that hers
rubbed him raw. Even given the fact she didn’t know he wasn’t fully human. Her
subconscious mind knew something was amiss, and reacted accordingly. Too bad,
he actually liked her.

“Your friends are leaving.”

Jakob
hadn’t heard her come up behind him. Thank goodness for her soft scent
giving him a small warning. It would be seriously embarrassing to have to peel
his ass from the ceiling because a mere human female had scared him. Nix and
Grady definitely wouldn’t ever let him live it down.

He turned his head to look over his shoulder.
Fuckers hadn’t mentioned they were leaving, but he knew that look on Grady’s
face. They’d apparently discussed things again, and were doing what they
thought was best. Fuckers couldn’t stop interfering in his life no matter what
he said. And if he threatened them they only became amused. He was pretty damn
sure they were not quite right in the head.

Jakob
gave a shrug in answer to Holland’s not very subtle hint. He understood
she would prefer he leave with Nix and Grady. But he didn’t feel like being the
good guy yet again.
Jakob
wanted to be around Holland
for one night, no worries,
no
concerns for the future,
and without her looking at him like he’d murdered someone before her.
Was
that really too much to ask?

She huffed out an aggrieved breath answering his
question. For her it apparently was.

Shaking his head,
Jakob
pulled out his wallet, and threw more than enough money on the bar. He quickly
drained the bottle, and then slammed it down on the bar. Without looking her
way, he swung off the stool and stalked to the doors. Nixon was frowning at his
approach.

“This is too much,” Holland said behind him.

Jakob
clenched a hand into a fist, and let out a slow breath. He didn’t
bother stopping or turning around. “Fucking, keep it,” he snarled over his
shoulder.

“
Jak
,” Grady said. He
blocked
Jakob’s
path. “What the fuck’s up, man?”

He leveled a look on the other male he knew would
get a reaction. Grady dropped his gaze, and stepped back from
Jakob’s
path. Only when he would have continued moving, a
small hand stopped him. Unlike any others in town he couldn’t shake off her
touch. It was the only touch that could stop him, and calm him all at the same
time. Turning his head to look at her, he barely noticed Grady and Nixon’s
hasty retreat from the pub.

“It’s too much,” she said.

Glancing down, he saw she was holding out the
excess.

“Consider it a tip for the stellar service.” Her
flinch at his dig should have made him feel better, instead he felt like a
bigger heel. She was terrified around him and here he was making it worse by
snarking
at her. Trying to shake her hand off his arm, he
stepped back. “Or consider it compensation for having to put up with my
despicable presence.”

The shocked look on her face had him stilling.
“What are you talking about?”

“Really? You plan to play it that way? Fine, I’ll
play your little game. You cross the street, or turn a corner whenever I’m
close enough we could potentially cross paths. Hell, I walked in here tonight,
and if you’d had the option I’m fucking betting you would have gone running out
the back door. The part I can’t quite figure out is if you’re scared of me,
hate me, a combination or something else entirely. Personally, I couldn’t give
two
shits
, but it’s getting old. My nerves are raw
enough already today, I don’t need to have you tiptoeing around or skittering
off into the corner whenever I fucking breathe or move.”

Her hand still resting on his arm tightened on the
leather. Then she tugged, and for whatever reason, he allowed himself to be led
back to the bar. Sitting when she pushed him toward the stool, he shook off her
hold, and crossed his arms.

She settled on the stool before him, and put the
money on the bar. Both hands in her lap, she began to twist her fingers
together. He could scent her nervousness, but there was no fear. A good thing
given his current mood. Now if only she’d get to making whatever her point
might be, he could then head home. Have a beer, read his book, and ignore the
real world for a time while licking his wounds.