Rage ran in Jagger’s veins, fueling his need to protect her and kill for her.
He soon discovered his Khloe was a fireball. She kicked the
A deep growl ripped from his throat, and he thrust his hand toward the male struggling to stand, hitting him with a ball of fire. The demon puffed into a black pile of dust.
No one harmed what belonged to him and lived.
Santa's Executive Excerpt
Book 2 in the Holiday Montana Series
Santa’s Executive
Chapter 1
Sometimes being the bad boy seemed a whole lot easier. Justin Cooper let out a sigh and closed his eyes. The tension that had crept through his shoulders and neck throughout the day seemed to suffocate him. He sat at his desk in his office at the elementary school and wished he were anywhere else. Sure, he loved being the principal of his small-town school, but, sometimes, he just needed a break.
The school bell rang, a soft trilling sound that set his teeth on edge, indicating he might just get that break he wanted. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and the temperature had dropped dramatically in their small Montana town of Holiday. He’d deal with the biting cold, just as long as he got his much-needed break. A full five- day weekend all to himself.
He let out a snort. Okay, not all to himself.
He was one of five Cooper brothers, which meant he was never too alone. They’d grown up close, and he, Matt, Tyler, Brayden, and Jackson hadn’t drifted apart as they’d aged like some families; perhaps because, after the death of their parents, they’d needed to rely on each other. Not to mention Matt, his youngest brother, had proposed to Jordan, bringing another family member into the fold.
Being the most prominent family in town had its drawbacks. No, he was never quite alone, and everyone knew his business.
Holiday was one of those storybook old Western towns that had never quite gotten with the times and evolved. But, he was okay with that. He kind of liked having the general store across the street from his brother’s hardware store. Everything was pretty much laid back and moved at a slower pace.
It was a perfect pace when he really just wanted to hide away and relax. Though, in reality, he never got the chance to do just that.
He ran a hand through his too-long hair and groaned. He needed to get a freaking haircut because, according to Jordan, he was starting to look like some punk kid. And, God forbid, he didn't fit the part of a proper and professional school principal. As it was, he looked like the aging bad boy of a small town.
He was a thirty-four-year-old man who spent his life either at work or tinkering around the house.
Fuck, he sounded like a whiny bastard. At least he enjoyed his job and had a roof over his head.
He worked for another hour or so on the school budget for the upcoming year and called it a day.
He closed down his computer, locked up his desk, and walked out to his car, the tension never quite leaving his shoulders as he looked forward to the long weekend.
The snow had just started to fall again, leaving a light dusting on the sidewalks and cars.
Everything looked like the beginning of a white wonderland, complete with Thanksgiving and harvest decorations in store windows. The one-road town appeared to be a scene sliced from an old western movie. The storefronts had been updated over the years, the road had been paved, but the town still looked old-timey. The road branched off in other directions as people built out, but Main Street remained the center of town. The snow was light, but he knew it wouldn’t take long for the sidewalks and roads to become slick. He stopped beside his car and called town maintenance, which consisted of George, his plow truck, and a few other key tools.
“Hey, I know the school’s closed, but I'd still like you to salt the sidewalks, just in case. You never know what kids will want to do once they get a break.” The last thing he needed was a kid to break an arm or worse. Not to mention the irate parents that would blame him. As much as he loved the kids, sometimes dealing with parents made him feel as if his job was sucking the life out of him.
George grunted, but agreed to prep the sidewalks.
Justin hung up, shivered in his coat, and got in his SUV. It dawned on him that it would have been smarter to get in the car and then make the phone call. Why he hadn't done that was beyond him.
Maybe it was old age. Okay, he wasn’t
When the car was finally heated up enough that he wasn’t afraid he’d kill the engine, he shifted into drive and headed home. It wasn’t even that late; he just wanted to go to bed. His body felt heavy, heated, and edgy. Maybe he just needed a beer. All the more reason to head home.
Justin carefully navigated the roads, not surprised at the lack of cars. People who lived in Montana were accustomed to snow, but that didn’t mean people necessarily loved to drive in it, nor did they drive anywhere, if they didn’t have to. The ice was already starting to build up, and Justin knew, in a few more minutes, it would get dangerous. Luckily, he lived close enough to the school that on a warm day he could jog to work; not that he wanted to do that anymore. The leering looks from some of the single and not-so-single moms when he had done so had quickly squashed that idea.
He pulled into his driveway, parked, and then shuffled as quickly as he could into his home.
Thankfully, he’d turned the heater on with a timer before he’d left, so stepping into the house wasn’t like stepping into an icebox. He shook off the snow and stepped out of his shoes. He hated cleaning, so he did his best not to be a slob. He wasn’t a neat freak like his brother Jackson, but he kept a clean house.
He knew his home wasn’t perfect, far from it. It would always be a work in progress, at least until he had someone to share it with; another heartbeat in the house. He’d filled the rooms with heavy furniture suitable for him and his brothers. There was no feminine energy whatsoever in the home. He hadn’t painted the walls yet, beyond a quick white coat, because he didn’t know what he wanted. He also hadn’t yet put anything up on the walls. It was as if he were waiting for something—or someone —to help him fill it. What, or who, he didn’t know.
With a sigh, he strode to the kitchen and took out the ingredients for dinner. He’d been craving Christmas cookies for the past month—and given in to those cravings more often than not—so he decided on fresh salmon, rice, and yellow squash for dinner. He needed to eat healthy so he could indulge in some sugar cookies later. He didn’t know what it was, but he needed sugar cookies, daily.
He loved them best when they were soft and had a thick icing layer on them. Just thinking about them made his stomach growl and his teeth ache. He knew his brother, Jackson, a dentist, would absolutely kill him if he knew how many cookies he had ingested over the past month. But, he couldn’t help it.
He craved the suckers.
He quickly got the rice going, sliced the squash so it could steam, and heated some olive oil in a pan for the salmon. He seasoned the filet then put it on the heat, but, even as he did, visions of cookies danced in his head. Yep, he was officially going crazy. The salmon crackled and popped as the fatty tissue hit the hot oil in the skillet. The aroma of lemon and dill filled the air, and he groaned. Nope, didn’t smell good enough to him. He wanted those damn cookies.
“I’m a fucking adult. I can eat a cookie before dinner if I want to.”
Knowing if his mother had been alive, she would have scolded him, he tiptoed to the airtight container and took out one cookie. Come on, one little frosted cookie wouldn’t hurt. He hesitated, and then he grabbed a second
