Kendall Christmas Read online

  Kendall Christmas

  A novella in the Kendall Family Series (#4.5)

  Jennifer Ann

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of writer’s imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. Namely: Star Wars, FaceTime, iPhone

  KENDALL CHRISTMAS (KENDALL FAMILY #4.5)

  Copyright © 2017 Jennifer Naumann

  All rights reserved.

  Cover designed by Best of You

  For Corrie and Jenny, because you guys keep me going, and this novella probably wouldn’t exist without your “persistence” or love for the Kendall family. ❤️

  Chapter 1

  Evelyn

  On the twenty-fifth of December, I slip out from a dreamworld with the feeling of a large hand working over my left breast, and a warm tongue lapping between my legs with slow, deliberate strokes. Gasping, I pry my eyes open, meeting the icy blue gaze belonging to the world’s sexiest rockstar. A delightful shiver ripples through my core when his lips spread over my sensitive skin with a smile, and he hums.

  “Merry Christmas, baby.”

  “Very merry Christmas,” I agree among a tight moan.

  In the early glow of dawn, I watch the broad muscles across his back flexing as he continues to lick and suck at my sex with determination. With a strangled noise caught in my throat, I reach down to grasp a handful of my husband’s thick hair, grateful once again that I married such a generous lover.

  Eyes closed, I lean back and smile to myself, consumed by total bliss. Although life has been crazy busy since the baby came into the mix, I wouldn’t have it any other way. But between changing diapers and cleaning bottles while on tour buses across the country, I can’t remember the last time I had the kind of mind-blowing orgasm growing at the base of my spine. I plan to enjoy every second of my husband’s selfless act.

  Soon he’s adding his thumb, applying the right amount of pressure on my electrified clit. Pleasure seizes my entire body until my calf muscles are as stiff as a board. I arch my back and yelp his name amidst a throaty groan, realizing my mistake when it’s too late. Before I’m able to slap my hand over my mouth, our eleven-month-old daughter begins to cry from the nursery across the hallway. It’s not an urgent sound—more like a soft whimper. It’s the kind that pulls at my heartstrings, knowing she simply wants to be held.

  “I’ll get her,” Charlie whispers in my ear before nuzzling the side of my face. “You stay here and enjoy your first present of the day.”

  It’s a good thing he volunteered, because my body’s as useless as a wet noodle. My lips split with a ridiculously wide grin as I watch him pad naked across the room toward our massive en-suite bathroom, putting his gloriously firm ass on display. Fatherhood has made my sexy rockstar even more irresistible, especially because Mia has him wrapped around her itty-bitty finger.

  Without my perfect little family, I’m not sure how I’d survive the holiday. Not only have my parents both died, but the way my siblings are divided all around the country, it was impossible for any of us to get together. It breaks my heart that Mia won’t be spending her first Christmas with her cousins. And I would’ve loved to have seen Katie one last time before she delivers our nieces, because I’m sure it will be a long time until they’re able to head this way again.

  At least I have my husband’s full attention since Thrashtag won’t be on the road again until well into the new year. I love the guys in the band and most of the crew—I even think of some of them as extended family—but I love having my husband and daughter all to myself even more.

  After hearing Charlie turn on the sink and the sound of his electric toothbrush humming to life, I must have dozed off. Next thing I know, he’s shuffling toward me dressed in a pair of loosely hung sweat pants with our daughter cradled in his arms. With the contrast of his muscles and ink next to those big brown curls framing my sweet girl’s precious face, her lips spread with a toothy grin, I almost break into tears of happiness. I’m beyond blessed to have these two beautiful humans in my life.

  “Morning, mommy,” Charlie says at the same time Mia reaches for me.

  When I take her in my arms, my baby girl cuddles against me with her arms pinned behind her back. I have no idea why she randomly started hugging that way, but Charlie says it’s because she’s holding her wings back. I can’t really argue. She’s been a happy baby since birth, making the motherhood gig seem like a piece of cake. Granted there are times when she’s teething or overtired, but even then she still manages to smile through her discomfort. Her sweet personality shines bright no matter the situation, sending my heart soaring whenever she’s near.

  “Merry Christmas, my little angel.” I gently squeeze my arms around her as I’m filled with her mystical scent. If I were to die tomorrow, at least I would’ve known pure joy from being a mother to this perfect little girl. She leans back a moment later, babbling while reaching for something silver hanging from her neck. “Whatcha got there?”

  I hook the chain with my fingers to inspect the pendant closer, realizing the three precious stones embedded on a silver bar represent the birth months of our little family.

  “The necklace is your second present,” Charlie tells me with a panty-melting grin. Lightly squeezing my thigh, he whispers in a throaty voice, “Your third will come later, Freckles…when we’re alone.”

  “Oh god,” I groan, unsure how much more I can take when my toes are still tingling from the first.

  He slips onto the bed at my side and kisses Mia before gently wiggling the necklace off from around her head to hook it around mine.

  With the pendant clasped between my fingers, I wrap my other hand around the broad muscles of his forearm. “You don’t have to spoil me like this. It’s beautiful.”

  “I’ll always spoil my girls rotten.” As he’s smoothing down Mia’s curls, his beautiful blue eyes land on mine, filled with burning heat. “As soon as she’s napping, you’re mine.”

  I gulp in reply, unable to process the overwhelming need he’s created with one look. I haven’t gone back on birth control since having Mia because we agreed we’d let nature take its course. It took so long for me to get pregnant with Mia that realistically, it could be another year. But at the insatiable rate he’s been going, we’ll have a dozen kids by the time I’m thirty. I honestly don’t know how I feel about that other than not wanting my kids too close together in age.

  I love the idea of Mia having a house filled with siblings, just as I did. My heart cracks a little whenever I think of how much my mom would’ve adored her grandchildren.

  Charlie stands and swoops Mia into his arms. “Eggs okay for breakfast?”

  Stomach roiling with his suggestion, I cringe. We met Charlie’s bandmates at Leona’s the night before, but I only had a couple of drinks. So why do I suddenly feel nauseous?

  “I’m not hungry,” I finally tell him.

  Charlie’s eyes narrow before he bends to kiss me. It’s a slow, passionate kiss, filled with promises of what’s to come. “I’ll feed Mia while you shower,” he mutters against my lips. “Take your time…we have all morning to op
en presents before heading to Mom’s.”

  Adoration squeezes my chest as I watch him leave the room, completely engaged in our little girl. For months I’ve struggled to come up with the perfect gift for my husband, mostly because the band is doing so well that we have the money to purchase whatever our hearts desire. Not that Charlie is the flashy type, and I’ve trained him to skimp on accommodations whenever possible so we can make charitable contributions instead, but it’s been a challenge to come up with something that will have special meaning. I decided on a leather cuff watch with forever your freckles engraved on the back. It wasn’t my favorite idea, and maybe even a little cheesy, but I ran out of time. Nothing could’ve been appropriate enough to show my feelings for the man who won my heart and fathered my baby girl.

  After a long, hot shower, I dry my hair and curl it in big waves. My stomach is back to feeling queasy as I decide on black leggings with a burnt red long-sleeved top that’s beaded and features the kind of plunging neckline Charlie has begun to appreciate more since I had Mia and my breasts grew. When remembering it’s one of Sharlo’s favorites from our latest collection, I become misty-eyed even though her and my brother have only been in California for a few days. I’ve become an emotional mess lately, likely because I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep.

  Downstairs looks and even smells like a winter wonderland, thanks to Charlie’s insistence that Mia’s first Christmas be perfect. At first I was somewhat annoyed when he causally told me while we were in Tennessee that he had hired a decorator, but Renee nailed a look that’s trendy and festive without being overdone. Admittedly, it was nice not to return and have to worry about getting the brownstone ready in the short amount of time that remained.

  With the sound of Charlie’s deep voice drifting in from the living room, I tiptoe around the corner to find him strumming on his favorite Gibson as he sings to our daughter.

  “Someday at Christmas there'll be no wars

  When we have learned what Christmas is for…”

  Stabs of delight fill me when I realize he’s playing one of my favorite holiday songs, Someday at Christmas. Near the tree we decorated the night before, Mia slaps her hands on her chunky little legs, watching her daddy play the guitar while he grins back at her through every lyric. The soft, gentle tone he uses is reminiscent of Michael Bublé and nothing like the rockstar persona the rest of the nation expects. Per usual when he’s crooning to her, our daughter responds with delighted squeals.

  My heart has never been so full.

  When he plays the final note, I quietly applaud him and they both turn, each throwing me heart-melting smiles.

  “Damn, Freckles. You look good enough to eat.”

  “You’ve already done that once today,” I tease him with a playful wink. I scoop Mia off the floor and kiss her pudgy cheek, amused that she tastes like strawberries. “Time for your bath, sweet girl.”

  “You gonna give me a bath too?” Charlie asks, standing alongside us with his guitar in hand.

  My cheeks warm with memories of the last time I messed around in the tub with the beautiful man watching me. With one eyebrow lifted, beautiful chest bare, and a funny little grin on his kissable lips, it’s crystal clear how he’s been voted as America’s Hottest Man several times. There are still days when I want to pinch myself to make sure he’s really all mine and confirm that I’m not lost in a fantasy.

  “Mia still has to open her presents from Santa before we leave for your mom’s,” I say, looking away before I’m charmed into agreeing otherwise.

  “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He stops to kiss our daughter on the forehead, then claims my mouth with a toe-curling kiss before heading for the stairway.

  I watch him disappear, feeling tingly everywhere despite the sickness in my belly. As much as I want to follow him upstairs and take him up on the offer while letting Mia play in her crib, my stomach refuses to settle. I cringe once again, worried I’m coming down with something on my baby’s first Christmas.

  “Let’s clean you up,” I tell my daughter as I carry her up after her daddy.

  While Mia’s splashing around in the bathroom connected to the nursery, I drape myself over the side of the massive jet tub, feeling greener with every minute that passes. Afterwards, while wrestling her into the shimmery tights and red velvet dress sent by Braden and Katie, I stop to hang my head over the side of the changing table, nearly losing it when getting a whiff of the diaper pail.

  Charlie’s arms encircle my waist before I’m aware he snuck in behind me. His hard body is still damp from a shower, and it feels like he’s only wearing a towel the way his warm skin penetrates my back. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

  The nausea I’ve been fighting against all morning breaks loose with his warmth, bringing a hot stream of bile shooting up my esophagus. I’m able to turn away from Mia in time, getting Charlie in the process. By the time I’m done spewing all over my husband, hot tears cover my cheeks.

  “Oh my god, I’m sorry!” I cry at the same time he breaks out laughing.

  “Shit, that’s nasty!”

  Still crying, I swipe a clean diaper from the changing table and use it to clean Charlie’s rigid stomach muscles. Although he didn’t get it as bad as I thought, I’m mortified all the same. Somehow I managed not to get any on myself.

  Charlie’s hand covers mine, stopping me from wiping up any more. Though he’s still grinning, his eyes are filled with kindness. “Take the baby to our room. I’ll come get her after I’ve cleaned this up. You need to lay down and take it easy.”

  Unable to look him in the eye any longer, I pick Mia up and head for the master bathroom, intending to rinse my mouth and maybe even hide out for the remainder of the day.

  Talk about complete and utter humiliation.

  Mere minutes after my gorgeous husband suggested we fool around, I cover him in vomit. I haven’t lost my stomach that way in ages, and last time it was from drinking too much. If it’s food poisoning, wouldn’t Charlie be sick too since we both had the same dinner? I haven’t had the stomach flu since my mom was alive.

  I set Mia on the fluffy rug in the middle of the recently cleaned tile floor to rifle through the vanity for something to settle my stomach. When I hear a box fall onto the countertop, my eyes skim over to it, and my heart jumps into my throat.

  A pregnancy test.

  I ordered a box of them online when I first suspected that I was pregnant with Mia, knowing the paparazzi was watching my every move. I ended up using three of the four to be certain I was really pregnant before telling Charlie.

  A flutter of anxiety tinged with excitement rises in my chest as I reach for the box with shaking fingers. My periods have been out of whack ever since Mia was born, so the fact that I didn’t have one last month didn’t raise any flags. Could I really be pregnant again? I mean I know it’s physically possible, but our children would be less than two years apart! It would be total madness around here—albeit the best kind imaginable.

  The sound of Mia babbling from the floor pulls me from my shocked daze. Guess there’s only one way to find out if she’s going to be a big sister.

  Christmas with Charlie’s mom in Cobble Hill gets cut short by a couple of hours when Mia becomes inconsolable. Deciding she’s cutting more teeth after changing a bad diaper and watching her fuss with her hands in her mouth, we head home. I’m okay with calling it a day as my stomach was a bundle of knots the entire time anyway.

  While Charlie’s rocking Mia to sleep in the nursery, I change and wrap his present, then take a video call from Sofia. Although it’s good to see my sister, I’m in tears by the time I hear Charlie calling for me from the hallway, and end the call abruptly, knowing he’s ready to make good on his third present. Damn it, I’m an emotional wreck.

  Adjusting the little black nightie made of the finest silk that he gave me last Valentine’s Day, I toss my phone from the bed and call for my husband, setting his recently wrapped present on my hip.
“In here, babe!”

  He saunters into our bedroom with wide eyes and a slack jaw. My gaze travels down to where he unbuttoned his designer dress shirt after we returned home, showing off a sliver of his broad chest. The sleeves have been rolled up to his elbow, putting his thickly tattooed arms on display. Visions of him stroking the guitar strings earlier morph into all the countless times those same beautiful arms have stroked me. Warmth fills my belly as every other part of me shivers with anticipation.

  I’m the luckiest woman alive.

  “Well hello, Mrs. Walker,” he greets me, his voice sexy and deep. “I take it you’re feeling better?”

  Not exactly, although the queasiness from earlier has been replaced by nerves. I fake my way through it with a smile. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

  He shuffles toward me, unbuttoning his shirt until every mouth-watering inch of his chest is exposed. “What’s in the box, Freckles?”

  “Ooo, say that again, only a little nasally like Brad Pitt in that serial killer movie.”

  Growling, he swoops in beside me, claiming my mouth in a way that feels wonderfully possessive yet gentle. Once he pulls away, the room spins around me. “I’m not feeding into your little fantasy of getting it on with some actor. You’re stuck with me.”

  I huff in a dramatic little sigh. “Poor me.”

  Taking the present from my hip, he drags his fingers along my skin, hiking the nightie up in the process. “Whatever’s in this box can’t compare to the sight of you wearing that. Damn, baby. You are one sexy mother.”

  Little bolts of electricity invade my body with his touch and the compliment. As he tears the paper off the box, I watch him with my bottom lip caught between my teeth. The wild beats of my heart shake my entire body as he seems to process the little white stick held between his fingers. His expression of confusion slacks and he pales until I swear he’s going to get sick on me.