Page 1 of Naughty Heart

1

MALCOLM

Holly?Jolly?

This was not the time to be struggling with names.

At the feel of the whisper-soft touch of kisses being peppered across my chest, I did my best to recall any bit of the conversation I’d had last night. I couldn’t remember her name.

Did it even matter, though?

Christmas was coming. It was the season of giving, and Eve seemed interested in being generous.

Evewasn’t her name, either.

Damn it. Why was it that the only thing I could remember about this woman was that she had a name which reminded me of Christmas?

Her hands joined in the mix, and I decided it was time to focus on other things, more important things than just her name.

Like, for example, the fact that her hands had drifted down my torso and abdomen, the ultimate destination unmistakable.

Mary?It had to be Mary.

Or was it Carol?

Just as she started to take a journey with her mouth farther south, a forceful knock came at the door.

I could ignore it.

Candy was.

Candy.Like candy cane. That had to be it.

“We’ll come back later.”

“I’m not coming back later, Larry. We’re doing this now.”

At the sound of my parents’ voices outside the door of my studio loft, all the work the girl with the Christmas-themed name had done, which hadn’t been a whole lot, was shot to hell.

If there had been a chance of her working me up enough for us to go a round or two this morning, that opportunity had vanished now.

“Maybe he spent the night out, Wendy,” my dad suggested.

“Oh, I have no doubt he was out last night, but I’m certain he came home. Where would he stay?” my mother countered, clearly not thinking it was possible for me to be anywhere but where I was.

My dad hesitated for just a moment before he advised, “Don’t make me answer that question, dear. You won’t like my response.”

Mom gasped. “Ugh, that’s horrible, Larry. I can’t even believe you’d suggest that.”

I had to fight back the laughter threatening to spill out of me. My dad was typically the disciplinary parent in the house growing up, but it seemed ever since I’d graduated from college a couple of years ago, those roles had been reversed.

Dad realized I was an adult and that I could make my own decisions. Of course, he had his opinion on things, but there seemed to be a line he wouldn’t cross. No doubt he knew precisely what was happening here.

Mom, on the other hand, was either willfully oblivious and just didn’t care what she was setting herself up for, or she still believed she could whip me into shape.

“I don’t know why that surprises you. You know how he is. It’s the whole reason we’re here this morning.”

“Yeah. I know it’s how he is, but hopefully that’s going to stop today.”