by: Naima Simone
Series: Rose Bend
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: October 26, 2021
Publisher: HQN Books
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"Simone balances crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters." —Entertainment Weekly
The holidays have never been her thing. But Christmas in Rose Bend has more than one surprise in store…
Grieving ER nurse Nessa Hunt is on a road trip with her sullen teen half sister, Ivy, and still reeling from her mother’s deathbed confession: Nessa’s dad wasn’t really her dad. Seeking answers, they arrive in Rose Bend to find a small town teeming with the kind of Christmas cheer Nessa usually avoids. But then she meets the innkeeper’s ruggedly sexy son, Wolfgang Dennison.
Wolf’s big, boisterous family is like a picture-perfect holiday card. Nessa has too much weighing on her to feel like she fits—even though the heat between her and Wolf is undeniable. And the merriment bringing an overdue smile to Ivy’s face is almost enough to make Nessa believe in the Christmas spirit. But with all her parental baggage, including lingering questions about her birth father, is there room in Nessa’s life for happy holidays and happily-ever-after?
Nessa blew out a hard breath, running a hand over the shaved side of her head. “For the past day, I’ve been thinking over what to say. How to say this without it being offensive or even selfish.”
“Just say it,” Wolf said, his tone even, though inside… Inside, his heart pounded like an anvil striking iron. “You’re responsible for the heart and intention behind the words, not for how the other person hears them.”
“You’re doing the wise-old-man thing again.” The corner of her mouth quirked up in a faint smile, but after an instant, it disappeared. “Wolf, I haven’t been honest with you. That seems to be a theme with me, lately. I haven’t been honest with Ivy, you, myself.”
She shook her head, glancing away from him and shoving her hair behind her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell on a deep breath, then she returned her gaze to him.
“You asked me the other night about how my day at the clinic went. I avoided the question then, but I’ll answer now. It went amazing.”
“I’m glad for that,” he murmured, a little confused about where this was going, but something inside him stilled. Waited.
“I was scared, Wolf. So damn scared when I pulled up to that clinic.” Nessa pressed a fist to her chest, over her heart. “Because bringing Ivy to Rose Bend at Isaac’s request wasn’t the only reason I came. Before…” She hesitated, slicked the tip of her tongue over her lips. Wolf locked his muscles, physically restraining himself from going to her. “Before I left Boston, I collapsed in the emergency room. A panic attack. It was the first time it’d happened to me, much less occurring at work. My supervisor insisted I take time off. She believes I haven’t truly dealt with my mom’s and Isaac’s deaths and suddenly becoming the guardian to a twelve-year-old who’s cast me as the evil stepsister in her own fairy tale.”
“Do you need me to hold you?”
She blinked at his offer, her lips parting. Then, she closed her eyes, her soft hitch of air almost deafening in the silent room. Jesus, she was killing him. The pressure to ease that pain, that sorrow, shoved at him until he damn near shook with the urge to go to her. In his twisted head, was he more addicted to being the rescuer, no matter the person being rescued? Was that what he found so irresistible and…and consuming about her?
Like a flailing man hanging over the side of a mountain from a threadbare rope, he grasped at some kind of explanation.
Some reason why he should usher her out of here right now before he took them past the point of no return.
But she looked at him again. A glimmer of warmth had banished some of the shadows in those espresso depths, and he knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
“How do you do that?” She didn’t wait for him to answer but continued, “No, I'm okay. I need to do this." She paused and inhaled a breath. Let it go. "So after being forced to take vacation, I headed here with Ivy, hoping to, I don’t know, fix myself. Fearing I was too broken for that to happen. Then I was asked to fill in at the clinic. And I survived. Not only that, I realized I hadn’t lost the career I love, the path I’d chosen. Because I had been scared, Wolf. That seems to be the theme of my life for the last eight months since Mom died. Fear. I’m tired of that. The clinic was one step out of it. This is another.”
She took that step toward him. Then one more. And one more until she stood in front of him, the toes of her boots nudging his.
“I’ve always played by the rules. Toed the line. Made the correct and expected decisions. And walking out your front door and letting the other night be the farthest we go would be the wisest decision right now. But I don’t want to.”
She inched closer until her toes bumped the heels of his boots. Until her legs brushed the insides of his thighs. Until her sultry jasmine-and-cedar scent taunted and teased him. He unfolded his arms and curled his fingers around the back of the couch. Holding on so he didn’t grab her.
“Even though I’ve followed the rules, I’ve been lied to, walked away from, abandoned. So now I’m going to throw all that out the window and see what happens. I owe it to myself to take what I want…and I want you. Even if it’s just for the next few weeks before I return home. But, Wolf—” she held up a hand and slowly shook her head “—that’s all it can be. You offered me a temporary arrangement, no questions, no strings. And if that’s what is still on the table, then I’ll accept it. Otherwise, I don’t have it in me to give more than that. Not right now. Maybe not for a long time. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m an untrusting, suspicious, emotional bad bet. I’m being up-front with you about that because you’ve been hurt, and I won’t lie to you. There’s nothing happily-ever-after about me.”
“Can I touch you now?”
The question emerged rougher, harsher, than he’d intended but all he heard in the last part of her speech was a yes. Though a phantom vise squeezed his chest at her “before I return home,” it didn’t compare to the acceptance. And that she’d set important boundaries that allowed him to have her without risking his own pain. He was going in, eyes wide open, knowing she would leave. Knowing he couldn’t disappoint or fail where there were no expectations.
He wanted her. And he could have her.
She wanted him. And she wasn’t turning him away.
That’s all he cared about.
Well, that and getting her naked as quickly as possible.
A smile—a small but true one, not that nervous facsimile—curved her mouth. “Yes.”
Before the consent completely passed her lips, he shoved off the couch, already reaching for her. But at the last moment, he abruptly drew up short.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“What?”
“The panic attack. The day at the clinic. Are you sure you—?”
She threw herself at him, crushing her mouth to his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tunneling through his hair and tugging. Prickles of pain darted across his scalp, and he rumbled his pleasure into her mouth. Opening wide for her, he thrilled in the possessive thrust of her tongue, the hungry growl that preceded the wet, raw tangle. No foreplay for them. Their mouths got straight to fucking with hard, demanding strokes, greedy sucks and lush licks.
The woman could kiss like nobody’s business.
Could willingly bring him to his knees with one of those needy whimpers.
Dropping his hands to her prayer-inspiring ass, he hiked her up, and her legs immediately wound around his waist. With long strides, he stalked around the couch and set her on the dark brown cushions whose only sellable factor until now had been the color that hid all manner of food and drink stains. Now it would forever remind him of the beautiful color of her eyes.
His lips tingled, swollen from the delicious carnal abuse they’d just suffered, as he trailed them over her cheek, over her temple to the closely shaved side of her head. Fingers sliding up her arm, shoulder and neck to burrow into the long, thick strands on the other side, he fisted them, tilting her head.
“I promised myself when I finally got you here, I’d go slow, take my time and worship you and this body like you deserve. But reality is a different animal, and I don’t know if I can follow through on that wish.”
He brushed his mouth back and forth along her scalp, dipping his head to graze the top of her ear with his teeth. She trembled, her grip on his hair tightening.
“Wing it.”
“Just say it,” Wolf said, his tone even, though inside… Inside, his heart pounded like an anvil striking iron. “You’re responsible for the heart and intention behind the words, not for how the other person hears them.”
“You’re doing the wise-old-man thing again.” The corner of her mouth quirked up in a faint smile, but after an instant, it disappeared. “Wolf, I haven’t been honest with you. That seems to be a theme with me, lately. I haven’t been honest with Ivy, you, myself.”
She shook her head, glancing away from him and shoving her hair behind her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell on a deep breath, then she returned her gaze to him.
“You asked me the other night about how my day at the clinic went. I avoided the question then, but I’ll answer now. It went amazing.”
“I’m glad for that,” he murmured, a little confused about where this was going, but something inside him stilled. Waited.
“I was scared, Wolf. So damn scared when I pulled up to that clinic.” Nessa pressed a fist to her chest, over her heart. “Because bringing Ivy to Rose Bend at Isaac’s request wasn’t the only reason I came. Before…” She hesitated, slicked the tip of her tongue over her lips. Wolf locked his muscles, physically restraining himself from going to her. “Before I left Boston, I collapsed in the emergency room. A panic attack. It was the first time it’d happened to me, much less occurring at work. My supervisor insisted I take time off. She believes I haven’t truly dealt with my mom’s and Isaac’s deaths and suddenly becoming the guardian to a twelve-year-old who’s cast me as the evil stepsister in her own fairy tale.”
“Do you need me to hold you?”
She blinked at his offer, her lips parting. Then, she closed her eyes, her soft hitch of air almost deafening in the silent room. Jesus, she was killing him. The pressure to ease that pain, that sorrow, shoved at him until he damn near shook with the urge to go to her. In his twisted head, was he more addicted to being the rescuer, no matter the person being rescued? Was that what he found so irresistible and…and consuming about her?
Like a flailing man hanging over the side of a mountain from a threadbare rope, he grasped at some kind of explanation.
Some reason why he should usher her out of here right now before he took them past the point of no return.
But she looked at him again. A glimmer of warmth had banished some of the shadows in those espresso depths, and he knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
“How do you do that?” She didn’t wait for him to answer but continued, “No, I'm okay. I need to do this." She paused and inhaled a breath. Let it go. "So after being forced to take vacation, I headed here with Ivy, hoping to, I don’t know, fix myself. Fearing I was too broken for that to happen. Then I was asked to fill in at the clinic. And I survived. Not only that, I realized I hadn’t lost the career I love, the path I’d chosen. Because I had been scared, Wolf. That seems to be the theme of my life for the last eight months since Mom died. Fear. I’m tired of that. The clinic was one step out of it. This is another.”
She took that step toward him. Then one more. And one more until she stood in front of him, the toes of her boots nudging his.
“I’ve always played by the rules. Toed the line. Made the correct and expected decisions. And walking out your front door and letting the other night be the farthest we go would be the wisest decision right now. But I don’t want to.”
She inched closer until her toes bumped the heels of his boots. Until her legs brushed the insides of his thighs. Until her sultry jasmine-and-cedar scent taunted and teased him. He unfolded his arms and curled his fingers around the back of the couch. Holding on so he didn’t grab her.
“Even though I’ve followed the rules, I’ve been lied to, walked away from, abandoned. So now I’m going to throw all that out the window and see what happens. I owe it to myself to take what I want…and I want you. Even if it’s just for the next few weeks before I return home. But, Wolf—” she held up a hand and slowly shook her head “—that’s all it can be. You offered me a temporary arrangement, no questions, no strings. And if that’s what is still on the table, then I’ll accept it. Otherwise, I don’t have it in me to give more than that. Not right now. Maybe not for a long time. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m an untrusting, suspicious, emotional bad bet. I’m being up-front with you about that because you’ve been hurt, and I won’t lie to you. There’s nothing happily-ever-after about me.”
“Can I touch you now?”
The question emerged rougher, harsher, than he’d intended but all he heard in the last part of her speech was a yes. Though a phantom vise squeezed his chest at her “before I return home,” it didn’t compare to the acceptance. And that she’d set important boundaries that allowed him to have her without risking his own pain. He was going in, eyes wide open, knowing she would leave. Knowing he couldn’t disappoint or fail where there were no expectations.
He wanted her. And he could have her.
She wanted him. And she wasn’t turning him away.
That’s all he cared about.
Well, that and getting her naked as quickly as possible.
A smile—a small but true one, not that nervous facsimile—curved her mouth. “Yes.”
Before the consent completely passed her lips, he shoved off the couch, already reaching for her. But at the last moment, he abruptly drew up short.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“What?”
“The panic attack. The day at the clinic. Are you sure you—?”
She threw herself at him, crushing her mouth to his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tunneling through his hair and tugging. Prickles of pain darted across his scalp, and he rumbled his pleasure into her mouth. Opening wide for her, he thrilled in the possessive thrust of her tongue, the hungry growl that preceded the wet, raw tangle. No foreplay for them. Their mouths got straight to fucking with hard, demanding strokes, greedy sucks and lush licks.
The woman could kiss like nobody’s business.
Could willingly bring him to his knees with one of those needy whimpers.
Dropping his hands to her prayer-inspiring ass, he hiked her up, and her legs immediately wound around his waist. With long strides, he stalked around the couch and set her on the dark brown cushions whose only sellable factor until now had been the color that hid all manner of food and drink stains. Now it would forever remind him of the beautiful color of her eyes.
His lips tingled, swollen from the delicious carnal abuse they’d just suffered, as he trailed them over her cheek, over her temple to the closely shaved side of her head. Fingers sliding up her arm, shoulder and neck to burrow into the long, thick strands on the other side, he fisted them, tilting her head.
“I promised myself when I finally got you here, I’d go slow, take my time and worship you and this body like you deserve. But reality is a different animal, and I don’t know if I can follow through on that wish.”
He brushed his mouth back and forth along her scalp, dipping his head to graze the top of her ear with his teeth. She trembled, her grip on his hair tightening.
“Wing it.”
Purchase Christmas in Rose Bend from:
The Rose Bend Series:
Slow Dance at Rose Bend ~ Review
The Road to Rose Bend ~ Review
A Kiss to Remember ~ Review
The Love List releases March 1, 2022
With Love from Rose Bend releases March 29, 2022
Published since 2009, USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone loves writing sizzling romances with heart, a touch of humor and snark. Her books have been featured in The Washington Post and Entertainment Weekly, and described as balancing “crackling, electric love scenes with exquisitely rendered characters caught in emotional turmoil.”
She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.
Places to find Naima Simone:
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | Amazon Author Page | Newsletter | Saints & Sinner Street Team
This sounds like a really good Christmas story.
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like a great read!
ReplyDeletedenise
I'm reading the story now. I'm definitely enjoying it.
ReplyDelete