Page 9 of Coming for Her Brother’s Best Friend (Coming For Christmas #4)

HAYES

I nursed a beer at the edge of the room and watched guests down their last few sips of champagne while they laughed too loud, their cheeks flushed from alcohol and adrenaline.

The staff tried to look calm, but their eyes kept darting to the windows like they were afraid the storm would find a way inside.

Sidney moved through the wreckage of her masterpiece.

Her silk blouse was wrinkled, lipstick long gone, and she’d pulled the pins from her hair so it fell down her back in long waves.

She was barefoot, with her heels dangling from one hand as she wove through the last clusters of guests, collecting abandoned coats, and whispering instructions to the servers like she could still control everything.

She looked exhausted. And fierce. And beautiful enough to make my chest ache.

She’d pulled off something impossible tonight and didn’t even seem to know it.

Rand stood, tapped a butter knife on his glass, and the room hushed. “Quick update before anyone thinks about leaving,” he said. “Management says the roads are closed. No plows until morning. So, congratulations, you’re all stuck here.”

Cheers went up. Someone popped open another bottle of champagne.

Sidney’s smile stayed fixed while her eyes went distant.

I could only imagine what was running through her head.

She was probably calculating numbers, thinking about lodging logistics.

Her shoulders tightened like she was solely responsible for everyone.

Then her gaze skimmed the room, caught on me, and for just a second, softened.

By the time the last guests straggled out, it was close to midnight.

The ballroom was half torn down, candle stubs drowned in wax, roses wilting, the cake table stripped bare.

The storm beat against the windows in relentless white waves.

Sidney came back in from the loading dock looking like someone had pulled the plug on her energy.

She set her clipboard on a crate and stood there, her hands slightly shaking.

“You should be asleep already,” I said.

“So should you.”

“The storm’s not letting anyone leave.”

She shook her head. “This was supposed to be perfect. Every single second of it.”

“It was.”

“It wasn’t. The blackout, the cake, the roads?—”

“And no one noticed but you.” I stepped closer. “You made them forget.”

She swallowed, her eyes glossy under the dimmed chandeliers.

I wanted to say something that mattered. Instead, I held out my hand. “Come on.”

“Where?”

“I’m going to put you to bed before you fall over.”

My suite was warm and quiet, the fire throwing soft gold across the walls.

Snow plastered against the windows, muting the storm to a low, distant roar.

Sidney stopped just inside the door. Her hands hung loose at her sides like she wasn’t sure they’d work if she tried to use them.

I took her coat and hung it by the fire.

“I shouldn’t be here tonight,” she said, her eyes on the flames.

“You’re probably right.”

She looked up. I’d been biding my time all day, all week, really. Now was my chance to find out for sure if the heat between us was real. I crossed the room in a few long strides and kissed her.

She gasped and then hauled me closer by the shirt, all that tight control finally snapping.

The taste of champagne lingered on her lips.

I backed her toward the bed, slow and steady.

Buttons gave. Silk slid. She shivered when my hands skimmed over her warm skin.

I wanted to take my time, but I also wanted to devour her.

“Last chance,” I whispered against her mouth. “Tell me to stop.”

Her eyes were dark but soft now that she didn’t need to maintain such tight control anymore. “Don’t you dare.”

I deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate.

Her hands slid under my shirt, palms warm and confident against skin that still felt foreign outside a uniform.

Heat rolled through us in lazy waves. She hooked her fingers in my collar, and I lifted her, easy, onto the bed and nudged her back against the blankets.

Outside, the wind clawed at the windows.

Inside, my heart thudded while I tried to convince myself this was really happening.

I traced the line of her throat with my mouth and felt her breath hitch. When I eased up, she tugged me back like she was short of air and I was the dose she needed, kissing me like she trusted me to hold her together.

Her blouse slipped away under my hands, and I let myself look. Her skin was freckled at the shoulders, a quick scatter of light that made something in me unclench. I kissed the spot where her collarbone met throat, and she shivered, her fingers knotting in my hair.

When I shifted to push us further, I froze just long enough to fumble in my wallet, the habit drilled too deep to skip. The foil crinkled between my fingers, and her eyes widened.

“You came prepared?” She whispered, breathless.

“Always,” I rasped, rolling it on before I let myself sink into her heat.

She rocked forward, and I let her set the pace. Tenderness threaded through the urgency. I wanted to take my time and savor every second.

“Hayes,” she whispered, her voice rough. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” I tipped her chin up, my thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. My body said yes to the way her fingers dug into my shoulder, yes to the stutter of her breath when I shifted, yes to the way she arched into me and took me deeper.

We found a rhythm that was created just for us. She moved with me, then against me, then with me again. When I murmured her name into her ear, her low moan almost made me come undone. Time thinned and stretched until nothing mattered except the way she felt underneath me.

I shifted, my hand cupping the hollow of her back, feeling her muscles move under my palm as she wrapped her legs around me. The bed creaked. Our breaths tangled. She lifted her hips, and I accepted the invitation to drive into her harder. The walls of her pussy tightened around me.

“Look at me.” I needed to see her. When she did, the world came into focus.

Firelight caught the laugh-line by her eyes, snow-light painted pale high notes along her cheek, and that small crease between her brows—her thinking crease—smoothed away.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweet girl, that it almost hurts to look at you. ”

She came first, soft and hard, with a cry that vibrated through me. I followed, my muscles clenching until I couldn’t hold back. We clung to each other through the last tremors, neither of us willing or ready to let go.

For a while we did nothing but breathe. Her face tucked into the hollow of my neck while I dragged my thumb down her spine. I’d been worried that the spark that ignited three years ago might have faded away. Thank fuck I’d been wrong.

“This changes everything,” she said into my chest, her voice small and raw.

“Good.” I kissed the crown of her head. “Because I’m not walking away this time.”

She didn’t argue. That quiet acceptance scared me more than a fight would have. It meant she was making a choice too. We were choosing each other.

When I got up to take care of the condom, she rolled to her side. I padded to the kitchenette for water and came back with two glasses and a few pieces of chocolate the hotel had stuffed into the welcome baskets.

“You need to eat something. Sorry, this is all I could find.”

She laughed. “Are you trying to amp me up on sugar after midnight?”

“You need something since you burned through everything you had out there.”

“Was it that obvious?” She humored me by taking a bite of chocolate.

“To me, yeah.” I tucked a curl behind her ear and watched her face. “You kept everyone else blind.”

She took another breath, her gaze shifting to the window for a moment before returning to mine. “I’ve never wanted anything to go right this badly.”

“It did.” I let the sentence hang, then added, softer, “Because of you.”

“I had help. From someone who doesn’t take orders.”

“Maybe I take yours.” The words slipped out, more serious than I had intended. For a heartbeat, I wanted to pull them back, afraid of scaring her away.

“You made it easier to believe I could pull it off,” she said.

“You would’ve anyway,” I offered.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But thanks to you, I didn’t have to find out.”

Silence settled between us, not awkward but full and solid. I watched her fold the chocolate wrapper between her fingers, worry flickering across her face.

“I got a text from Stetson earlier. He was trying to show up and surprise Rand, but the storm got in the way. He’ll be here as soon as the roads open.”

“I know.” I felt the weight of his name settle like a third wheel between us. He was the brother she loved to pieces. I was the horrible friend who’d crossed a line that had been clearly marked.

“He won’t like this,” she said, trying the thought on and finding it both ridiculous and true.

“No.” I met her gaze. “He won’t. I’ll handle him.”

“Are you sure?”

“I owe him honesty,” I said. “I owe you more.”

She searched my face and must have found the truth she needed. Then she let out a long breath and curled back into me, tucking herself under my arm like she fit there because she did.

I kissed her again, longer and softer than I ever had before, and pulled the duvet up to her chin.

Her breathing slowed. As she slid toward sleep, she said my name, and damn if I didn’t love the way it sounded on her lips.

I lay awake longer, listening to the generator’s distant hum and the wind beating at the panes.

Between her breath and the glow of the embers, a decision grounded itself in my chest. I could still go to Alaska.

I could still keep my word. And I could plan for what came after.