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    Tagged: Blue Collar Bad Boys, #6
    Tagged: Blue Collar Bad Boys, #6
    Tagged: Blue Collar Bad Boys, #6
    Ebook126 pages1 hour

    Tagged: Blue Collar Bad Boys, #6

    By Brill Harper

    4.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    She thinks I can have any woman I want. I want her. 

    I reluctantly agreed to spend the holidays in picturesque Maple Grove to transition to life after the Army. I'm a drifter now and have no business getting involved with my buddy's family—especially with his sweet little sister who pretends she's frumpy and boring to ward off attention from men.

    Men like me.

    I have no plans for Emily other than being an extra brother for a week. That's what I tell myself. I really should let her be, but the harder she tries to hide, the more determined I am to seek. Under those baggy clothes and plain, simple looks is a woman who deserves to know how desirable she is. 

    Author's Confession: You must know by now that I love my tropes, right? Military romance, age gap, opposites attracting like, whoa, small town, older brother's best friend, wallflower, ugly duckling, holiday romance complete with snow, Santa, and caroling during a fistfight. Oh, and pudding. Let's get figgy with it. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBrill Harper
    Release dateOct 20, 2017
    ISBN9781386471912
    Tagged: Blue Collar Bad Boys, #6
    Author

    Brill Harper

    Unfailingly filthy...and super sweet Brill's books are filthy/sweet for when you're in the mood for something a little over the top. Okay, a lot over the top. Sorry, not sorry.  Brill Harper is represented by Deidre Knight of The Knight Agency.

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      Book preview

      Tagged - Brill Harper

      About this book

      My name is Sergeant Charlie Warner.

      Or it was.

      I’m a retiring soldier, just got out, with no family of my own, and I reluctantly agreed to spend the holidays in picturesque Maple Grove to transition to life after the Army. I’m a drifter now and have no business getting involved with my buddy’s family—especially with his sweet little sister who pretends she’s frumpy and boring to ward off attention from men.

      Men like me.

      I have no plans for Emily other than being an extra brother for a week. That’s what I tell myself. I really should let her be, but the harder she tries to hide, the more determined I am to seek. Under those baggy clothes and plain, simple looks is a woman who deserves to know how desirable she is. She thinks I can have any woman I want.

      And I want her.

      Chapter one

      Emily

      Against all odds, it is possible to feel lonely in a room full of people you love.

      I’m keeping myself busy-looking by adjusting the pine garland across the mantle of my childhood home. Busy-looking is a trick. A trick I’ve honed from childhood. It is my way of hiding in plain sight. If you’re busy, or at least look busy, most people leave you alone. At least for a while.

      Bing Crosby croons in the background while I place sprigs of holly berries, pine cones, and baby’s breath evenly down the twelve-foot garland. It has to be perfect. Not because anyone cares—my large, boisterous family isn’t concerned with the concept of perfection—no, it needs to be perfect because I’ve spent so damn long arranging it now that I’d feel stupid if it didn’t look right. Around me, the family is busy with other decorations in the great room and ...beer. Beer is a definite activity, as per usual. My mother is in the kitchen baking more cookies than a Keebler Elf does in his entire lifetime. Judging by the yelling directed at the television, my siblings and cousins are upset with the scores of some game and what kind of intervention the refs needed due to some play or another.

      Honestly, I have no idea. Sportsing all sounds the same to me. But it won’t be long before all the joking and conversation rounds the room to me. Who are you dating? Why aren’t you dating? I’ll smile awkwardly and someone will call me shy, and then I’ll blush and that will start another set of discussion points about my appearance. They love me and the teasing is always good-natured. But it is still teasing. I feel silly for feeling like I don’t fit in, but even now, at twenty-five years old, I feel out of place in the bustle of my huge family.

      I am child number four of four—two sets of twins for my parents—and one of innumerable cousins. I love them, all of them, I just prefer them one at a time. I’m not shy, not really. I simply feel overwhelmed in groups. Especially during the last few years.

      Being the focus of attention has always been uncomfortable for me, but my siblings thrive on it—each of them good at sports and performing. I am good at...being Emily. I like my quiet apartment in town. My quiet job for my grandparents. My quiet life crafted with just the right balance of solitude and family.

      But today is a good day. It isn’t Christmas for another week, but today is even better than Christmas. Carter is coming home.

      I check the time. Not long now.

      Carter Jones, my twin, is the exception to the family makes me feel weird rule. He’s just finished his second tour in Afghanistan and this will be his first Christmas home in a few years. Consequently, the celebration of Christmas is slated to be more like a weeklong festival this year. Mom is determined to make up for his lost Christmases.

      While having a big family already means lots of traditions, it seems like this year is going to go off the rails into Christmas mania. My mother actually took notes on a legal pad while watching The Santa Clause. Notes. Probably things like source a reindeer or pay the town’s children to dress up like elves.

      Carter will love it. All of it. I suppose a reindeer wouldn’t be so bad. And I like kids. Just not a lot of them in a small space. But I’m not crazy about the figgy pudding. Mom sent an email last week putting me in charge of it. For fifty people. That is a lot of figgy. That is a lot of people.

      But I am so looking forward to having Carter home.

      It has been hard without him the last few years. Probably good for me in a lot of ways. But he is my twin. My other half. We can communicate without words, and nobody makes me laugh like he does. Skype is a poor substitute.

      The game switches to a commercial break, so I slip into the kitchen and take a deep breath. So far, so good for avoiding the awkward dating conversations.

      Just in time, my mom says. The cookies are ready to decorate.

      I look at the shapeless cookies lining the counter, holding one up to the light, wondering why it has a hole in the middle of what could have maybe been a snowman. Mom, they let you cut people open for a living. Why can’t you cut a cookie? These don’t...what are they supposed to look like?

      I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong either. Every year, I roll the dough, I cut the dough, but by the time I get them into or out of the oven, they look more like Patrick Star than trees and Santas.

      I pick another one up. This one is more Spongebob than Patrick.

      Ha ha.

      We’ve been working side-by-side for half an hour when my mom gets the text that the guys are almost home. Did you put the guest towels out?

      Yes, Mom. She’s already asked twice today.

      "Not the nice guest towels...the fancy ones."

      I get insta-prickles on the back of my neck. "Why would we put the fancy guest towels out for Carter? I mean, I know we missed him, but he’s still Carter." Not fancy guest towel material.

      He’s bringing his sergeant home with him. Or ex-sergeant. I’m not sure how that works. He’s the one who saved your brother’s life, but he’s getting out of the army now. Sergeant Warner.

      Fabulous. One more person. And a stranger to make it interesting. Breathe. Just breathe.

      I take the bowls to the sink so I can talk without having to look directly at my mother. It might be easier to approach her about the sleeping arrangements without eye contact. Mom, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should stay in town this week after all. It sounds like you’re going to have a full house here. There’s no reason why I can’t stay in my own apartment. Where there are no strangers. I’ll commute here every day.

      I chance a glance behind me. My mom has that look—the one that says, What are we going to do with you, Emily?

      What? I just think—

      Your father and I are really looking forward to having all of you home. Under one roof. For the week. Like old times.

      I have taken a week’s vacation, and my siblings and I have all moved home for the holiday. I miss my quiet apartment already, and I’ve only been here for a few hours. I’ll come back first thing every morn—

      Please, Emily. We all need this. As a family. There is plenty of room here, and I don’t want to worry about you driving home late at night.

      Late at night? Why would I be up late at night?

      My mother takes the rinsed bowls and puts them into the dishwasher. We have things scheduled every evening this week.

      Scheduled?

      Mom nods toward the fridge while she adds soap to the dispenser. It’s on the itinerary. I was going to pass copies of it out later, but there’s one on the fridge if you want a sneak peek.

      You have an itinerary? I take the paper off the fridge. "You have a typed itinerary. Mom this is in outline format. With Roman numerals."

      It needed to be organized. We are having an old-fashioned family Christmas, and you are all going to look back on this time and be grateful we were together.

      Alrighty then. My mother has become Clark Griswold.

      Mom...

      Mom’s phone buzzes, and she picks it up after shooting me a quelling glance. They’re here.

      Chapter Two

      Charlie

      I’ve been sitting in the backseat of the Escalade watching the freeway turn into a highway turn into one single main street that runs through the entirety of Maple Grove, Washington. The gray December clouds make it impossible to tell the time of day, but I know it shouldn’t be dark

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