Page 59 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

“Like she wanted to tear his tongue out through his intestines?” Jake raises his brow.

“Exactly,” Eli laughs. After a pause, his smile drops. “Is he why she ran off?”

“No,” Jake and I chorus.

Eli’s brows lift in surprise, then settle in concern. “What happened?”

“Patrick called.” Jake rubs his forehead.

“Her son needed her,” I offer. It made watching her flee a little easier this time.

Eli nods. “Good. I mean, not good that she had to run off to him, but good that she went when he needed her.”

I read between the lines, even if we need her too. But I’d never want to get in the way of her being a good mother. I admire her for it.

“So.” I cut into their thoughts. “What do we do about Paige?”

Eli laughs. “Already done talking about what an asshat my father is?”

“I mean, if you need to talk about him, feel free. But it’s long established that Rodrick Rockwell isn’t the award-winning father he pretends to be.” I really don’t mind talking about it. We have on and off for decades. And thanks to Patrick, I’ve taken a stance in favor of men sharing their feelings. We’re not robots programmed to be manly all the time.

But I also know that his thoughts are focused where mine are.

On Paige.

Eli’s laugh is a bit more frustrated. “Yeah. You’re right there. Let’s talk about Paige.”

None of us seem to know what needs to be said. Or where to start. We sit in silence until our drinks are finished.

“It’s quite clear we all want her.” Jake stands and grabs the bottle, refilling our glasses before his own and lowers back into the couch’s plush leather.

Fear of losing her festers in my chest, so I voice it. “I more than simplywanther.”

Jake nods. “Me too.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Eli chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “I’m falling for her. She’s already right there—” His knuckle digs into the center of his chest. “Carving out a nook for herself.”

“She does that.” How long has she possessed her own spot in my own chest? Since she walked into my office for the first time? When Jake brought her back to our house? When I met her son?

Four years ago when I got my first taste of her?

It’s impossible to tell.

“She’s perfect,” Jake whispers into his glass before he downs it. His hand tightens around the glass as he makes a pained face. “What do we do about it? How do we keep her from running again?”

That’s the million-dollar question.

“We show her there’s no reason to. That we’ll take care of her.” Eli wipes his palms down his slacks.

“It’s all fine and dandy to say that, buthowdo we show her?” Jake twists his glass before refilling it again and downing the full finger of whiskey.

“We woo her,” I say. “We don’t give her the chance to get away.”

“Like picking her up in the morning and driving her home at night.” Eli smiles over the rim of his glass.

“Yes, but perhaps, not all three of us at the same time.”

“Not to overload her.”

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