Page 51 of Filthy Rich Santas

“Just think what we could save on hotel room costs,” I say, making him laugh.

“Definitely something to consider.”

I lick my lips, a little surprised by how confident and sexy I feel as we banter back and forth. “It’s notjustabout the money. I do get kind of cold at night too.”

His eyes drop to my mouth. “Is that so?”

“I mean, it is the middle of winter.”

He chuckles, but this time there’s a husky quality to it that has my breath catching as tingles spread through me.

He reaches out and runs the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “Good point. We’ve all gotta do our part to keep you warm, right? But I draw the line at cold feet.” Without taking his eyes off me, he tosses a comment at Tristan. “Is that a problem, Tris? You can tell us. Do her toes turn into ice cubes at night?”

“No,” Tristan responds, biting off the word.

Both Ryder and I startle at his tone, turning to face him.

He’s looking out the front windshield, brows drawn low as Beckett navigates through the densely falling snow.

It’s getting dark out, and visibility is so low that it’s only the faint glow of someone else’s red taillights up ahead that reassure me we’re actually still on the road.

“Wow,” I say with a wince. “I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten out there.”

“We’ll be fine,” Beckett assures me gruffly, even as he slows the SUV down even more when the brake lights up ahead flare brightly.

I trust him, because the way he commands the vehicle is exactly the way he commands everything else in his life. With a kind of absolute authority and assurance that in other circumstances I find sexy as hell.

But right now, it’s theothercars still on the road that I’m not sure I trust, not in weather like this, and by silent agreement, we all stay quiet so Beckett can focus. It’s only when he has to tap the brakes a few miles later, causing the wheels to slip a bit, that I realize I’m gripping Ryder’s hand.

“Shit,” Beckett mutters softly. “Was that an exit sign?”

“Yeah,” Tristan replies, already looking down at his phone. “Two miles up.”

Beckett nods, carefully navigating into the right lane. “We need to get off the road.”

“Fuck, there’s not much availability,” Tristan mutters, swiping through a few screens on his phone.

Ryder squeezes my hand once, then extracts his so he can pull out his phone. “You’re checking hotels?” he asks Tristan, opening an app to do the same.

Tristan mumbles a reply, and I pull my phone out to help too. The conditions are so bad now that Beckett has us slowed down to a crawl, and I’ve got no doubt that everyone else out here tonight is doing the same thing we are. It would be crazy to keep going until the storm passes, so it’s no wonder everything nearby is booked up.

“Got one,” Ryder says after a few minutes, naming a familiar hotel chain. “It’s a little farther off the highway, but all they’ve got left is the executive suite.”

“Grab it,” Beckett grunts, tension in his voice as he throws his blinker on and finally exits the highway.

Ryder nods, tapping his screen a few times. “Already on it. Take a right and head under the overpass.”

He continues to direct Beckett to the hotel, and once we get there, we leave everything that’s not essential in the SUV, all four of us hurrying inside as the snow whips around us.

“My toes are definitely ice cubes now,” I joke weakly, shivering as we crowd together at the reception counter since I didn’t stop to put on my coat.

Beckett grunts and tugs me against his side, his body heat thawing me out a little while Ryder finishes checking us in.

It’s not until we finally get the key cards and make our way up to the suite we’ll all be sharing that it really hits me what Ryder said back in the car.

Onesuite. The only one left. The one we’ll all be sharing tonight.

And it’s almost like all that heated banter wasn’t just flirting or foreplay, but actually prophetic, because when we get there we realize that the suite is plenty big enough for the four of us to share. It’s a large space with a little living room area and a kitchen too.

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