A McCree Christmas (Chasing McCree) (3 page)

Chase

When the wheels touched down, a bubble of relief floated up inside me. Earth. Land. Terra firma. Thank God. I could breathe easy for the next three days, until I had to get back in the air to go home.

At least I had a small reprieve.

I grabbed our carry-on suitcase, while Briar took Penny, and followed her off the plane. The sight of people in the airport wearing light jackets and sunglasses brought a smile to my face. No snow for the next three days. It was a nice little break, although I’d rather have a white Christmas than a green one.

“I think they’re happy to see us.” I heard Briar laugh and followed her gaze.

Her Grandma and Grandpa were standing by the entrance to our terminal, holding signs. They were scribbled on with marker and coated in glitter.

Grandma’s said
Welcome home ex-cheerleader and hunky Scottish cowboy.

Grandpa’s said
Merry Christmas.

He was holding it upside down. At least he’d tried.

“There you are!” Grandma hobbled over, jingling. It was more than just socks with bells. She was covered in red and green. Green pants with holly. A red sweater with cats wearing Santa hats. Her elf hat had bells on it. And she was wearing a blinking Christmas-light necklace.

Grandpa was wearing a sweater, too, one of Santa with a plate of cookies, and he didn’t look too pleased about it. He crossed his arms every time someone passed.

“She is darling. Why, it’s almost like being a great-Grandma.” Grandma bent forward to peek in the carrier at Penny.

Then she hugged Briar and me as tight as she could, and wedged herself between us to walk out to the car. She even held my hand. It was sweet, and Briar winked at me for being such a good sport. The truth was, I didn’t mind at all. Grandma could hold my hand anytime she wanted.

“How are you kids? Was the flight okay?”

“It was great,” I said.

“I was telling Norm on the way over that we should make eggnog. He hates it, so I will make hot chocolate instead.” Grandma chattered as she got in the front seat of the very shiny and pretty new Mercedes. I got in the back with Briar, and watched in slight horror as Grandpa slid behind the wheel.

“He drives?” I whispered in Briar’s ear.

She buckled up and nodded. “Yep, you might want to hang on.”

I put on my seatbelt and tried to keep my expression calm as the old guy backed out of the parking space, nearly taking out two pedestrians and a traffic cone.

The plane was a safer mode of transportation.

“So Grandma, how’s the holiday cooking coming?” I was trying to be polite, make conversation, and not curse every time Grandpa slammed on the brakes and yelled at the other drivers around him.

“Oh, fine. I’ve decided to marinate the turkey in sangria.”

Briar patted my leg and smiled when I made a strangled cough. “That sounds delicious.”

Yup, the next three days were going to be a trip.

I was watching out the window as we got on the interstate, thinking that it’d be fine because the elderly usually drove slowly and all the faster drivers passed them.

But this was Grandpa. He had to do the exact opposite of what I expected. The old guy was a master tailgater. He came up on the bumper of a semi hauling gas and laid on the horn.

“We’re going to die.” Briar glanced at me, half panicked. “I love you.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it was nice knowing you, Briar. I love you, too.”

Grandma smacked Grandpa on the arm. “Norm, will you stop being so aggressive. He’s bigger than you.”

“He’s going too slow. He might as well be driving backwards.”

“What’s the speed limit here?” I asked, and stretched forward to look over Grandpa’s shoulder at the speedometer.

“Sixty,” Briar said.

Grandpa was hauling ass at eighty. I sat back in my seat and gritted my teeth as we passed the semi. I didn’t want to know how fast we were going now.

“I’ve been thinking.” Grandma turned around and looked at us. “I know I said you could stay with me and Grandpa, but it might be good for you to stay with your parents.”

Briar gaped at her. “What?”

Grandpa swerved around another car, and several drivers honked at us in irritation. I was tempted to ask him to pull over so I could drive. But I knew he would see my request as rude.

“You never talk to them, and they don’t know your cowboy like we do.” Grandma nodded, as though she was pleased with her decision. “It’s for the best, baby. If you can’t handle it after twenty-four hours, feel free to come on over.”

“Chase,” Briar sighed, staring at me in defeat, “I guess we’ll be seeing my parents sooner rather than later.”

I smiled, hoping to hide my slight apprehension. “It’ll be great. I can spend some time with your dad, and you’ll have more time to sort through some of the things in your room.”

Instead of driving home, Grandpa detoured for Briar’s parents’ house. The big, cold, museum like structure full of marble and glass and breakable things. It was damn cold, and I was hoping that Christmas decorations would add some warmth.

I was wrong.

A silver, very fancy wreath hung on the door. That was it, aside from some white poinsettias lining the path to the front door. I had our bags, and I watched Briar frown at her Grandparents as they drove away.

“Do your parents even know we’re staying with them?” I asked as she rang the bell. It pained me that she couldn’t walk into her own house.

“I’m willing to bet they don’t.” She put a smile on her face that I knew was reserved only for her mom and dad. It was a little fake, and strained. She was going to be civil for as long as she could stand it. I had to commend her. She wasn’t begging me to take her to my mom’s house, even though I knew we could stay there. It’d be a little crowded, but a lot more fun.

The front door opened and Mrs. Thompson stood on the threshold. She looked as lint-and-wrinkle free as ever in a white dress and massive gold earrings. “Well, this is a surprise. Briar, what are you doing here so early?”

“Uh…” Briar shifted uncomfortably, hiding the puppy carrier behind her. “Grandma thought we should stay with you. She thought you might want to get to know Chase better.”

Her mother opened the door wider, and shrugged. “That’s fine. I don’t know how much time we’ll have to socialize. Your father and I have to make an appearance at the mayor’s Christmas party tonight.”

“Oh, well, there’s time tomorrow,” Briar said.

I hoped Penny wouldn’t start barking. Her parents hated animals.

“No, tomorrow is the hospital’s Santa extravaganza. Your father’s hosting this year. You could come with us tonight—” Mrs. Thompson eyed me. “—that is, if you brought the appropriate clothing. It’s black tie. You’ll need a tux.”

So she thought I ran around in jeans and cowboy boots and owned nothing else? “The dress code isn’t a problem.”

Briar shot me a confused sideways glance. “Right, no problem, Mom. What time should we be ready?”

“The driver will be here in two hours.”

Briar sighed. “Perfect.”

I said goodbye to her mother, and followed Briar upstairs. She was practically stomping. “She’s going to try to intimidate you, Chase.”

“I would be shocked if she didn’t.” I glanced at my watch. “Where can I find a tux in two hours?”

Briar pulled out her phone. “I’m calling for backup.”

“Who?”

“Raphael,” she said. “He can puppy-sit for us tonight, too.”

“Why do I
have a bad feeling about this?”

Chase

I should have trusted my gut.

Twenty minutes later I was being assessed by a stylist wearing blue plaid pants and a tight white shirt with a deep V-neck that showcased his neatly trimmed chest hair.

“Good God, when was the last time you had a trim?” He stared at the top of my head and shoved me into a chair. I felt like a monkey being picked at in the zoo.

“I don’t know…a few months?” I stared at my reflection in the mirror, thinking my hair was a little scruffy, but nothing a trip to the barber wouldn’t fix. Or I could stick my hat on my head and call it a day.

“Just a little snip.” Raphael shook out a bright pink smock and wrapped it around me. “So, tell me about you. You’re a cowboy?”

“I have a ranch in Montana.” The clippers came out and I sank into the seat with resignation. I’d look better in the tux with a fancy new haircut.

“Sounds dangerously exciting.”

He was really going short with the haircut, but Briar had told me to trust him. I trusted Briar…so I clenched my hands into fists and took deep breaths. “We raise cattle.”

“Oh, how interesting.” He spun me around to focus on the front of my head. “Now, as far as styling, do you use gel, mousse?”

I frowned up into his face, realizing the man was wearing makeup. “Uh, I wash it.”

His eyes went wide and he leaned back, propping his hands on his hips. “Please don’t tell me you use a bar of soap.”

“No, I use shampoo.”

“What kind?”

What was the big deal? Shampoo was shampoo. I didn’t see how a bar of soap could do any worse either. “I have no idea.”

“When Briar told me you were a real guy, I was thinking
male gender.
Not
caveman.”
He snorted. “What about those eyebrows?”

I gaped at him. “No way. I’ll be laughed off the ranch.”

“Can’t blame me. Let me guess—you use an old knife to shave and forgo razors.”

I crossed my arms. “You can do whatever the hell you want to my hair, just please, leave my face alone. And for the record, you wouldn’t last five minutes in Montana.”

“Honey, I’m house-trained and breathe central air. I break out in hives if someone even mentions a park.” He went back to my hair, muttering to himself about how metro was the new man, and that I was behind the times.

We stayed silent until Briar breezed into the room with shopping bags. She’d left me to pick up what Raphael had put on hold for us at his friend’s shop. Apparently it was a ritzy vintage store, and we’d be rolling in style, or something. I was too overwhelmed to keep up with the lingo.

“Wow.” Briar slid to a stop and grinned. “Chase, you look fantastic!”

I felt heat creep up my cheeks and shrugged. “I guess Raphael isn’t so bad.”

“We’re tolerating each other,” he said to Briar. “Put your dress on and I’ll put a robe over it while I do your hair.”

She smiled, leaving one massive pink bag on the chair next to me, and disappeared into a small, curtained off room. I put up with Raphael picking at me, and gelling up my hair. I was about to swat the guy away, when Briar came back out.

“Well, what do you think?” She was wearing a short black dress, and sky-high silver heels.

My mouth went dry, my stomach did back flips, and if I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have fallen over. “Wow.”

Briar smiled. “Really?”

“You’d look hot in a paper bag.” Raphael smacked the back of my head. He was lucky I didn’t kick him in the shin. “I…you’re beautiful.”

“Wait till you see the tux. Classic. You could be James Bond.”

“You mean he can drink a martini and wrangle cattle?” Raphael asked. “This I’d have to see.”

Briar took my seat, while I put on the tux she’d picked up for me. The measurements weren’t perfect on such short notice, but it fit pretty well. No one would know it hadn’t been made for me. I glanced at the tag as I slipped into the jacket, and wondered who Raphael’s friend was. To find me an Armani suit in two hours, the woman had a gift.

I came out of the room and sat in the chair next to Briar. She had the pink smock on, and Raphael was pinning up her curls with glittery little things that looked too small for any man to handle. But this guy was a pro. He and his friend, they had the styling thing down. It was actually kind of nice. I didn’t have to think about finding anything and running from store to store. Briar told Raphael what we needed, and a few hours later we were ready for a Christmas party.

Briar didn’t wobble in her heels, and she took confident strides as we left the salon. It was like she was ready for battle, of the female kind.

“This is going to be an interesting night,” Briar said as we pulled up to the Thompsons’ house in her mother’s car, which was, of course, a Mercedes. What I wouldn’t give to have my truck.

“So do I look like I can mingle with your parents’ friends?” I felt slightly nervous as we got out of the car and approached the house.

She twirled her hand for me to spin around. “I’m actually concerned.”

I stopped. “Why?”

“You’ll see.” She opened the front door, leaving me hanging, and a little bewildered. Did I not look like I’d fit in with the rest of the people at the party? Or was it clear I was better suited to ranch work and wrangling cattle?

Her parents were in the foyer, chatting, and they looked up at us when we came in.

At first they smiled approvingly at Briar, but when they looked at me, their jaws dropped.

I grinned; I must look damn good, thanks to Briar’s stylist.

“Forget fitting in,” Briar whispered in my ear. “You’re going to show them up.”

“Even better— you and me, we’re the ultimate power couple,” I said, slinging my arm around her shoulders.

Briar’s mother stepped forward and her shock slowly turned to appreciation. “Chase, you look wonderful.”

Her father nodded, shaking my hand. “Son, Briar’s going to have to fight off the other girls at the party.”

Whoa, I hadn’t thought about that. “I’m not worried.”

Much.

Briar smirked. “They won’t do anything.”

When the limo pulled up, I helped Briar in and sat beside her father, who seemed to think we were going to be new best friends. I didn’t mind. I wanted the guy to like me. But I knew that his warming up so much had to do with the fact that I could look civilized in a tux and rub elbows. If only he really liked me for myself.

But I knew from being around Briar that the relationship I had with her parents would always be surface and shallow. I’d take what I could get. Maybe one day, as they got older, they’d learn to calm down and be personable. Or maybe they’d just become even more set in their ways. Only time would tell, but considering Briar and I lived across the country, I wouldn’t have to worry about seeing them much.

After all, they hated Montana.