My bandmate’s little sister is off-limits.
Then a Christmas blizzard traps us together in Chicago with only one bed.
After months on tour, all I want is to get home for Christmas. Instead, a winter storm strands me in Chicago with Harper Beaumont, a rising ballet star with everything on the line, including the lead role in her company’s production of The Nutcracker.
With both our flights canceled and Harper watching her dream disappear, I do the one thing I absolutely shouldn’t do—convince her to experience the Christmas magic of Chicago.
Somewhere between sparkling lights, one forbidden kiss, and a snow-covered city, Harper stops being my bandmate’s little sister…
and becomes the woman I can’t stop wanting.
When the only hotel room left has one bed, resisting her becomes impossible, sspecially when she asks me to be her first.
One night with Harper is hot enough to melt the Christmas snow but when morning comes and my bandmate finds out I crossed the line with his sister…
I have to decide if I’m brave enough to risk everything for the woman I was never supposed to have.
Silver Bells, Single Bed is Book 2 in the Hollow Reign Christmas Novellas—a series of interconnected, steamy holiday romances that can be read in any order.
EXCERPT:
“So,” she says. “Small problem.”
I cannot fathom any problem bigger than the one that’s currently happening in my pants at the sight of her.
“I don’t have anything to sleep in.” She wiggles the bag helplessly. “I didn’t exactly pack for two overnights. Everything in here is dance clothes. I can sleep in this, I guess.” She shakes her head and sets the bag down on the chair.
Jesus fuck, the universe is loving me today.
“You can’t sleep in your clothes.”
“Well, I think sleeping naked is out of the question,” she says, and I swear she’s not as innocent as she seems.
I clear my throat. “That’s not…” I dig through my duffel bag until I find a Hollow Reign concert t-shirt and hold it out to her. “Here. You can sleep in this.”
She hesitates a beat.
“It’s clean, I promise.”
Her fingers brush mine, small and soft as she takes it and brings it up to her nose. “Smells like you,” she smiles and then disappears back into the bathroom.
Fuck, get yourself together, Rhodes.
What would Casey do if he knew I was in a hotel room with his little sister right now, and that she was wearing my t-shirt? I press my forehead against the cold glass window and try to think about anything—my drum kit, my mom’s tamales, the tempo count on the new single, anything that isn’t Harper Beaumont pulling her sweater off on the other side of that door.
And I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her as she walks out of the bathroom wearing my shirt. Every coherent thought in my brain evaporates.
The neckline slips off one shoulder, and the hem hits the tops of her thighs, revealing soft, smooth legs. She pads over to her bag and stuffs her clothes inside.
“It’s a little big,” she says, pulling on the hem.
I swallow hard.
“Jesus, Harper,” I say, my voice rough. “Are you not wearing a bra?”
She looks down at herself, genuinely confused, then back up at me. “Of course not.” She shakes her head like that’s the stupidest question in the world. “It’s not comfortable to sleep in. Get over it.”
Get over it?
She says it the way another girl would say pass the salt. Like she has no idea what she’s doing to me. Like she hasn’t just rearranged the entire chemistry of the room by walking out of a bathroom in my shirt, her nipples visible through the material.
I scrub a hand down my face.
I grab a pillow off the bed and carry it to the armchair by the window. “I’ll take the chair. You take the bed.”
“Liam, that chair isn’t big enough for you to sleep in.”
“I’ll manage.”
She crosses to the bed and lies down on her side, propped up on one elbow, watching me with an expression I can’t read. The t-shirt rides up her thigh, and I swear to God I catch the edge of lace and the curve of her hip underneath before I have to physically drag my eyes off her.
I rearrange the pillow, trying to smash it into submission.
Author Bio:
Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.
For more ways to learn about Paula and her books, check out her website: @www.pauladombrowiak.com
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Silver Bells, Single Bed Blitz
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