Authors: Cat Johnson
Nice & Naughty
Nice & Naughty
~a hot holiday trilogy with firemen!
by Cat Johnson
What’s better than a fireman? Twelve of them, naked, on the pages of your calendar!
The hot firemen you loved in
Opposites Attract
are back with their friends, but now they're wearing a lot less clothing and heating up the holidays like never before. Be prepared for secret identities, a sizzling calendar shoot, smoldering bachelor firemen up for auction, sexy Santas and a whole lot more!
Secret Recipe
: A famous lifestyle maven who secretly can't cook? Good thing a sizzling hot fireman/calendar model knows his way around the kitchen and is there to rescue her and her charity event from certain disaster. If they detour to the bedroom on the way to the kitchen, even better.
Mr. December
: When the real December calendar man gets sick, a rich department store owner has to step in for him and play Santa. Once he meets the pretty lady photographer sent to cover the event, things really start to heat up. The only problem is, she has no idea who he really is, and he’s not all that keen on telling her.
Can't Buy Me Love
: What do you get when you take one over-worked caterer on the brink of a nervous breakdown and add a hunky fireman for sale at the charity bachelor auction she's catering? You get a woman who finally finds the one gift to buy herself that she's never going to want to return.
If you love the old black-and-white classic holiday movies such as
Christmas in Connecticut
,
Shop Around the Corner
and
Holiday Inn
, you’ll love the three
Nice & Naughty
stories they inspired.
Table of Contents
SECRET RECIPE
Chapter One
“I can’t do this anymore.” Her voice came through the cell phone crystal clear.
Didn’t that just figure? Cell reception was usually crappy at best, but now that his girlfriend of nearly two years was dumping him…yup, clear as a bell.
Scott O’Malley sighed and ran one hand over his newly shorn hair. “Linda, can we talk about this later? Please?”
He felt the towel wrapped around his waist start to slip and grabbed for it with his free hand. As if getting dumped wasn’t bad enough, being naked and in a room full of fellow firefighters at the time of the dumping was just icing on the cake. He didn’t need to lose his only covering and his little remaining dignity in the process.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve packed all the stuff you left at my apartment in a box. I’ll leave it outside my door so you can pick it up.”
“O’Malley! You’re up.”
Scott glanced over as Antonio, one of the guys from his firehouse, summoned him.
He didn’t have time to deal with his situation with Linda right now. If she wanted to play games and pretend they were done because of one little disagreement, then he’d play along with her. “Fine. I’ll be over to get my stuff after I’m done here. Oh and Linda, make sure my Ladder Company No. 3 T-shirt is in the box.”
Linda hesitated a beat. “Um…I will.”
She hadn’t put his shirt in the box. He could tell just from her tone of voice. She’d thought she was going to keep it. If she really didn’t want him anymore, she sure as hell couldn’t have his shirt. Too bad if it was her favorite thing to sleep in every night.
Not feeling as petty as he knew he should, Scott flipped the phone shut and realized there was no pocket in which to put it away. One of the hazards of wearing nothing but a scrap of terrycloth, he guessed.
“You okay?” Troy O’Donnell came to stand next to him.
Troy may be both his friend and a fellow firefighter, but Scott wasn’t in the mood right then to discuss what had just happened between him and Linda.
“Yeah. Fine.” He shoved the cell phone at Troy, as if the phone was at fault for the dumping rather than his girlfriend—make that
former
girlfriend. “Put this somewhere for me, will ya?”
“Sure.” Brow raised, Troy nodded and took the phone.
Scott had to give Troy credit, he didn’t question Scott’s mood and simply did as asked. Good man.
And now, on to the day’s next humiliating event...
Troy’s sister Tessa, the very cute and equally off-limits photographer—Troy had invoked the sister-rule—stepped up to Scott. She thrust one hand in his direction, camera held in the other. “Scott?”
He made sure to hold the towel with his left hand as he shook hers with the right one. “Yup. Where do you want me?” Realizing that sounded inadvertently suggestive, he amended his offer by adding, “Um, to pose, I mean.”
She smiled. “Well Mr. July, would you feel comfortable standing next to the barbecue grill wearing this?” Draped over her arm was an apron that read, “Kiss the Cook.”
“Just that?” He eyed the item and tried to estimate exactly how much of him it would cover.
She tilted her head to one side. “Only if you’re all right with it. If not, we’ll come up with something else.”
What the hell. If Linda was serious about breaking up, and since his stuff was currently sitting in a box on her front doorstep it sure looked like she was, he was now single. Unattached and available. Why not be practically nude in a calendar that would be seen by literally thousands of equally single girls throughout the city?
He shrugged. “It’s fine. No problem.”
Whistles and applause ensued as Scott tied the apron around his waist and whipped off the towel. The front of him was covered, but the rear view definitely was not. He sidled his way over to the grill, keeping his butt facing away from Troy’s sister, which meant he flashed most of the other firemen in the room.
Oh, well. They were all in this endeavor together, and the
Hunky Firemen
calendar was to benefit a good cause, the local children’s hospital. Though getting photographed naked for charity was
not
what he thought he’d be doing when he took the firefighter’s test a few years ago.
Scott tried planting his fists on his hips, then felt stupid, like he was a superhero about to grill a burger naked before saving the world. He readjusted the pose and tried holding onto the barbecue, but that was stupid. If this were real, the grill would be too hot to put his hands on. Maybe he could just hold the handle, as if he were about to lift the lid?
He glanced helplessly at Tessa. “I don’t know what to do with my hands.”
Antonio, who had the honor of being Mr. October in the calendar and had held nothing but a pumpkin in front of himself, handed Scott a large spatula. “Here. It helps if you have something to hold onto.”
“Thanks.” Since Scott had a nearly irresistible urge to keep both of his hands clamped tightly over the apron barely covering his private parts, the prop definitely helped keep at least one hand otherwise occupied.
If he only had something to keep his mind equally occupied so he wouldn’t remember that after this photo shoot, he’d be picking up what remained of his relationship with Linda, and it fit into a single cardboard box. Wasn’t
that
sad.
A few dozen photos and forced smiles later and Scott was done posing. It was quicker and easier than he’d thought it would be. Nudity aside, it hadn’t been too bad at all and he had nearly forgotten his misery during it. But now he had no more reasons to procrastinate. He realized the time had come to go collect his box. Oh, goody.
He grabbed the towel from where he’d ditched it. Bare butt safely covered again, he made his way back to where he’d left his clothes in the studio’s dressing room and found Troy already there.
As Mr. December, Troy had gotten to wear actual pants in his photos. That had made Scott a little envious, although the fight between the O’Donnell siblings over the pants vs. no pants issue had been pretty amusing. Tessa had wanted Troy in nothing but a strategically placed Santa hat. Lucky for Troy, he proved to be the more stubborn O’Donnell. He won the standoff and got to wear fire pants, but with no shirt, and the Santa hat on his head rather than—elsewhere.
As he grabbed his shirt from the pile of clothing strewn before him, Troy glanced at Scott. “We’re off tomorrow, so a few of us are going out for a beer. You wanna come?”
Scott’s mouth twisted. “I have to stop by Linda’s.” He sat down heavily on the bench and rubbed his hands over his face, suddenly very tired.
Troy paused, his shirt still in his hand. “What’s up? You’ve been weird since that phone call.”
“Linda dumped me. On the phone, after dating for almost two years.”
Troy frowned. “Just like that? Out of the blue? Why?”
“I got the ultimatum last night.”
Marry me or it’s over
, she’d demanded. Apparently, judging from today’s phone call,
I’m not ready yet. I need more time
was not a good enough answer for Linda.
Troy groaned as Antonio joined them in the dressing room. He glanced at Troy.
“What’re you groaning about?”
“Scotty got the ultimatum.”
“Ah, man.” Antonio winced. “And?”
Scott drew in a bracing breath. “And can we swing by and get my box full of stuff off Linda’s front step on the way to the bar?”
The irony struck Scott hard. His and Linda’s relationship came down to two boxes—a small velvet box containing a diamond engagement ring or a large cardboard one containing his stuff. What a deceptively simple concept. Most men assumed relationships were complicated, but not really. When you got right to it, it boiled down to two options; choose box number one or box number two. Easy.
Antonio gave him a sympathetic smile. “Sure we can stop. I’ll even get out of the car and get your stuff for you so you don’t have to have the usual post-ultimatum confrontation.”
Troy nodded. “And I’ll buy the first round of shots when we get to the bar. I’m thinking this situation calls for a visit from our old friend Jose Cuervo.”
Scott couldn’t help but smile at them both. “Thanks, guys.”
A barroom full of testosterone and free-flowing tequila, that was the quickest remedy he knew of for a broken heart and a bruised ego. Sure, tomorrow he’d have to deal with a hangover and the gaping hole in his life that used to be filled by his relationship with Linda, but for tonight, it was all good.
A few hours later, Scott leaned on the bar and laughed when his elbow slipped off. He caught himself with his other hand. “You know what? This is all I need. Just my buddies…and maybe another beer.”
“Another beer here.” Troy called out to the bartender, holding onto the bar rail as he swayed a bit.
“You’re better off without her anyway.” Gordy, Mr. February, slurred. He rubbed his hands together. “Once this calendar hits, we won’t be able to beat the girls off us with a stick.”
Gordy had gotten to hold a really big red heart-shaped box—the kind that chocolate came in at Valentine’s Day—in front of his family jewels for his photos. Although Scott had to think that when you’re naked, the box could never be big enough.
