Page 6 of Stepbrother For Christmas

“I just asked if you wouldn’t mind stringing the lights on our Christmas tree while Jim and I finish the holiday desserts.”

“We’re preparing for the cookie baking Olympics,” Jim jokes.

I nod quickly. “Sure. I don’t mind.”

“I can help out with that, too,” Chase says. “Being six feet two inches tall has its advantages.”

“Great,” my mom replies, grinning. She looks really happy right now.

After dinner is over, my mom walks into the living room. “If you guys can untangle these Christmas lights, I’ll put an extra present in each of your Christmas stockings,” she says.

“You got it.” Chase reaches for the lights and I burst out laughing.

After my mom leaves the room, I turn to Chase and tell him quietly, “She says that every year.”

“What’s the extra present that she gives?” he asks, his brows drawing together.

“Gift cards to the Amazon store.”

He smiles. “Count me in then!”

I burst out laughing again.

“All right, here we go.” Chase holds up the tangled up mess of Christmas lights and grins. “First things first, let’s check that the lights work before we waste time untangling them.”

“Good idea,” I say as we try to find the plug end of the strand. Then we start to test them in the wall socket next to our Christmas tree.

“All of the lights seem to work,” Chase states confidently. “Now we just need to untangle them all.”

“Oh no,” I gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Chase asks, his blue eyes widening.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“No,” Chase insists. “Please tell me.”

“Well, it’s just that we’re right under the mistletoe.”

His brows knit. “And?”

“And you get seven years of bad luck for ignoring a mistletoe.”

“Let me help you with that.” Chase leans over and kisses me lightly on my cheek. “There, don’t you feel better now?” He smiles. “So you can relax—there’s no need to worry any more.”

I feel my cheeks turn red. “Um…I’m not sure it works like that.”

“They’re parasitic plants, though,” he remarks playfully. “Can they really be that picky?”

“Unfortunately, yes. A mistletoe kiss needs to be REAL to combat bad luck. It must be a stolen kiss, too,” I explain, my face burning with embarrassment. “Actually, just forget it.”

“Stolen?”

“Let’s just forget the whole thing. It’s all my fault for not noticing that mom hung the plant right by the Christmas tree! I’m just always trying to avoid—” I don’t get to finish my sentence because Chase grabs me by my hair and pins me to the wall. Then he kisses the hell out of me, forcing my lips apart with his tongue.

“Oh my God!” I hear my mom shout.

Shit.

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