Free A Bad Boy for Christmas by Kelly Hunter Page B

of important information—and then she’d stop for both of them.
    She slid her hand into his shaggy, silky mop and had he pulled back she would have let him go, no question.
    He didn’t pull back.
    Instead, with a ragged breath, he kissed her.
    He tasted perfect.
    And he liked kissing, taking the time to learn the shape of her mouth before delving deeper. He savored everything and made her feel wanton within seconds.
    Mia didn’t know how long they kissed for. She barely heard the tinkling of the bells above the door that signaled a customer.
    “Cutter Jackson, you in here for ink or are you just amusing yourself?”
    He pulled back slowly, as if dragging himself out of the moment, and then his forehead hit the counter, giving Mia a lofty view of sun tipped hair framed by muscled forearms.
    “No ma’am. Not here for ink.” Even muffled as it was, Mia could hear the strained edge of frustrated passion. “Just here for the torture.”
    Mia met Beryl’s bemused gaze and patted him gently on the shoulder. “We still not doing this?” she asked.
    “Still not doing it.”
    “Because?”
    “Family complications.” He stood tall and glared. “You know this. We’ve discussed it at length. And apart from all of that, my track record with women is—
    “Legendary,” said Beryl.
    “Abysmal!” he corrected. “Women love the pretty packaging, they do, and I take full advantage of that. I’d never deny it. But I’ve yet to meet one who can cope with what’s underneath. They keep wanting to change me.”
    “Inconceivable,” Mia murmured.
    He glared at her. “I don’t want to change in order to stay in a relationship!”
    “No indeed.”
    “I am who I am. Overwhelming, underwhelming, frustrating, surly—
    “Loveable, hardworking,” interjected Beryl.
    “—reckless, impatient, headstrong and, according to some, far too demanding,” he finished. “I’m at my best when I’m at sea or in the water. I work long hours when most other people are tucked up in bed and I get together with my crew on Friday afternoons—and I do mean every Friday afternoon. No exceptions!”
    “ None ,” said Mia emphatically. “Unless one of your sisters-in-law was giving birth or something and then you’d be there with your brothers, pacing.”
    He glared some more and Mia grinned. Watching him unravel really shouldn’t be this entertaining.
    “Saturdays are for work again and Sundays are for family,” he continued with two swift chopping motions of his hand. “I like my world order. I created it. I don’t want to change to fit in with someone else.”
    “That would be a sin.” Mia nodded in heartfelt appreciation. “You are magnificent.”
    Confusion reigned in his face for about a nanosecond, and then the face of doom enveloped him. “You say that now .”
    “I do . I want it known that on the strength of one kiss I am altogether willing to fit my good self around your schedule for the very short time I have left here. After that I’ll be back in Melbourne and should you ever decide to visit your newfound big brother—on a Sunday, of course—you could call in to see me, at which point I would make every effort to find the nearest body of water and drop you in it. Good times would ensue.”
    “Don’t forget the beer,” Beryl murmured.
    Mia clicked her fingers and pointed towards Beryl in appreciation of the reminder. “Beer’s in the fridge.”
    “Tell him you want advance notice of his visit,” Beryl said with a grin. “Who knows? You might have moved on already.”
    “Beryl’s very wise.” Mia nodded. “Advance notice is essential.”
    “Beryl, stay out of this,” he warned.
    “Just trying to give my girl here a fighting chance at coming out the other end of this deal unscathed.”
    “I appreciate it, Beryl.” Mia said warmly. “I always underestimate myself in the face of rampant magnificence.”
    “There. Is. No. Deal.” He sounded very certain. “There can be no deal. We’re tied by