A Yuletide Affair. Monica Richardson

Talbot family were beside themselves with excitement.

      * * *

      The Caribbean band had set up their instruments in the center of the Grand Room and was playing an old Bob Marley tune. With locks that hung down to the center of his back, the band’s lead singer danced around the room. Jackson, Alyson’s brother-in-law-to-be, was so into the performance, he didn’t even see them walk in. When he spotted them, a wide grin covered his handsome golden face as he bobbed his head to the music. He raised a glass of cognac in the air and motioned for Alyson and Jasmine to join him.

      “You’re just in time,” Jackson said. “They’re just getting started.”

      “They sound good,” Jasmine said.

      Samson, Jackson’s friend, walked up and the two men shook hands. Alyson inconspicuously observed Samson as he chatted with Jackson. Didn’t want him to notice that she was checking him out. She’d labeled him as the mystery man that had shown up on the island, with no real reason for being there. He was renting a room at their family’s B and B for an extended period of time, and he’d been introduced as Jackson’s buddy from college, but her knowledge of him was very limited. The lack of information intrigued her.

      “Why don’t you play something?” Jackson asked Samson, and then told everyone in the room, “He’s an accomplished guitarist.”

      “I’m an amateur at best,” Samson insisted.

      “He’s being modest,” Jackson countered. “Get on up there and give us a little something.”

      Reluctantly, Samson joined the band at the center of the room. The band’s guitarist handed over his instrument, and Samson began to play. Alyson tried desperately to peel her eyes from his sexy face, and she’d never intended to focus so intently on the way his lips curved when he was in his zone. She certainly didn’t mean to stare at his muscular arms, or the way the sleeveless shirt hugged his chest. With his tattooed arms and unshaven face, he was definitely not her type. She preferred her men refined and sophisticated. But she couldn’t help but be impressed by the way he played the guitar and how he meshed perfectly with the other members of the band.

      Get yourself together, girl, her inner voice whispered. What in the hell is wrong with you?

      She didn’t have time to watch this man play a guitar! He wasn’t even in the band—he was a wannabe. And what was he doing in the Bahamas, anyway? The nuptials weren’t taking place for weeks, and he wasn’t even an attendant in the wedding.

      “I don’t need to see anymore. I think this is our band for the reception,” announced Jackson. He then turned to Jasmine. “What do you think, babe?”

      “Bravo!” Jasmine clapped her hands as each member of the band took a bow. “I agree.”

      At least she agreed on something, Alyson thought as she raised an eyebrow at her indecisive sister. “How about deciding on a wedding dress, boo?” She’d said it aloud before realizing the words had actually come out of her mouth.

      “Don’t start, Alyson.” Jasmine pointed a finger at her sister.

      “No luck finding a dress today?” Jackson asked Jasmine.

      “She’s going to be wearing that tablecloth if she doesn’t choose a dress soon,” Alyson teased.

      “I really don’t care what my bride-to-be is wearing on that day, just as long as she meets me at the altar and becomes my wife like she promised.” Jackson grabbed Jasmine from behind and gave her a tight squeeze.

      The two moved to the sound of the Caribbean music. Although Alyson rolled her eyes, secretly they gave her hope that love actually was attainable. She was happy for her sister and wished her a lifetime of bliss with the man of her dreams. The two sisters had only recently hashed out their differences and gotten over old wounds, and Alyson was grateful that they were able to put the past behind them. And she was happy to be an integral part of her sister’s life and wedding plans.

      “What’s the story on your friend over there?” Alyson asked the question that had plagued her since the day Mystery Man had shown up in the Bahamas.

      “He’s my college buddy,” Jackson said.

      “Old information. I gathered that days ago,” she told him. “I mean, what’s his story?”

      Jackson placed an arm around Alyson’s shoulder. “What exactly would you like to know about him?”

      She pulled away and exclaimed, “I’m not interested in him, if that’s what you’re insinuating! I’m just curious as to why he’s here. Normal people have careers and families that prevent them from relocating to a tropical island for an extended period of time.”

      “He’s just here for a little while. Needed to get away.”

      Get away from what? she thought as she gave Samson another quick glance.

      “What happened in Chicago?” she asked.

      “Maybe you should ask him yourself,” Jackson said as Samson finished the set and walked up.

      Samson gave Alyson a dazzling grin and nearly pierced her with those seductive light brown eyes. He gave her a nod of hello.

      “You’re far from a novice, boy. You’re a professional.” Jackson grinned and gave Samson a strong handshake. Then he turned to Alyson. “I’d like for you to meet my future sister-in-law, Alyson Talbot. Alyson, this is Samson. I don’t think I’ve had the chance to formally introduce you two.”

      “Pleased to meet you, Samson.” She offered her hand.

      He took it and gently kissed the back of it. “The pleasure is all mine.”

      She quickly retrieved her hand from the man who’d instantly caused her to feel things—strange things—that she shouldn’t feel when meeting someone for the first time. Samson smiled, apparently completely aware of his effect on her. She rolled her eyes. He was trying too hard, and she wanted him to know that he didn’t stand a chance with her. Maybe if she were a twenty-two-year-old groupie, his charms would work. But she wasn’t twenty-two, nor was she one of those desperate women who threw themselves at the feet of charming men, and he needed to know that. She’d always been one to sift through the smoke screen and get to the heart of the matter.

      “Talbot women certainly are beautiful,” said Samson.

      She noticed the word Toni etched across his left biceps, and asked herself, Who has the names of their ex-or current girlfriends etched into their skin?

      “Alyson is a real estate broker,” Jackson offered. “Her company is quickly becoming the go-to for real estate on the island and abroad. You mentioned taking a look at some beach homes while you’re here. Maybe she can show you around.”

      Alyson gave Jackson the evil eye and then looked at Samson. “I generally don’t dabble in the competitive market. But I have a lot of connections and would be happy to pair you with one of my associates who could show you around.”

      “I think she just told me that I can’t afford any of the properties in her portfolio but she’d pawn me off on someone who can show me some cheaper ones.” Samson smiled, and the entire room seemed to illuminate.

      “I think she did,” Jackson agreed.

      “What is it that you do for a living, Mister...”

      “Steel.”

      “You steal for a living?” she asked.

      He and Jackson both laughed a hearty laugh.

      “My name is Steel. Samson Steel,” he said.

      “Oh.” She felt silly, but offered a gentle smile. “The most modest home in my portfolio, Mr. Steel, appraised at half a million dollars last week. We’re asking much more than that.”

      “Great! I’d like to see it.”