Page 5 of Tickled Pink

“That’s a yes,” Max says.

“I got her,” Thad says as he sits up. “It’s my turn.”

He gets off the bed and scans the floor in search of his flannel pants. I prop up to help, quickly attempting to replay the first few moments of our morning tryst, and point over Max’s side. “I think I threw them over there,” I say, recalling.

Thad shuffles over, his flaccid cock happily dangling between his thighs. “Yep,” he says, catching sight of them. “Thank you.”

I lie back down and Max raises his arm, leaving his chest open for a very comfortable resting place. “Thank you,” I say to Thad as I settle down.

He pulls his pants on and grabs the shirt next to it to throw on as well. I smile. It’s Max’s shirt, though neither of them seems to care at all.

They share, remember?

“C’mon, Stink,” Thad says, patting his leg. “Let’s go.”

Stinky lets out a loving bark and bolts out into the hallway beneath his feet.

“Hey, watch it, girl.”

I giggle to myself as Thad thumps down the stairs to the ground floor of our brownstone home.

Max wraps his warm arms around me. “Alone at last,” he says, kissing my brow.

I smile at the joke, but my grin slowly fades. “Do you really have to go to work?” I ask.

He strokes my shoulder. “Yes,” he answers.

“But it’s Christmas.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Still Christmas.”

“I won’t be gone long.” He runs his lips along my upper brow. “Just a few hours and then I’m all yours until New Year’s, okay?”

I sigh. “Okay.”

Max lays a finger beneath my chin and tilts my face up. “What’s wrong?” he asks, reading me like a book.

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing. You’ve got worry face.”

“I’m not worried,” I say, not even convincing myself.

Max eases up onto his elbows. “What’s wrong, Pheebs?” he asks.

“It’s just…” I bite my cheek. “It’s our first Christmas together.”

He furrows his brow. “No, it’s not.”

“Last year doesn’t count,” I argue. “We weren’t even moved in here yet. We didn’t have a tree or decorations — or even Stinky. This is our first official Christmas as a family, and I want it to be perfect.”

“It will be perfect.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Trust me, Phoebe. Nothing — and I mean nothing — is going to stop me and Thad from giving you the best Christmas ever.”

“Not even your dad?”

“Especially not him.” He smiles, firing warmth from his dimples straight to my heart. “All right?”

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