Page 85 of Filthy Rich Santas

I stand up too so I can block her before she can grab the scattered remains of the meal she made us. “Uh uh. You cooked. We’ll handle the dishes.”

“You’re going to spoil me. But if you’re sure, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a shower.”

“Go,” I tell her as Ryder gathers up the dishes from the coffee table and takes them to the kitchen.

She goes up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek, then heads to the bathroom. I turn to follow after Ryder, but then glance at Beckett and change my mind.

“You okay?” I ask.

He looks up at me like I’ve startled him out of his thoughts, then gives a single, short nod. “Fine.”

I prop my hip on the arm of the couch and cross my arms over my chest. “Want to try that again? You’ve been tense ever since we got back from the tree farm.”

For a second, he looks like he’s going to close down on me. But then he sighs, looking away for a second. “I just don’t think this is smart.”

I don’t have to ask what he means.

“It’s only until we reach New Hampshire,” I remind him. “Then everything will go back to normal.”

He gives me a noncommittal grunt, and I huff in irritation. We don’t have that many days left on the road, and as I realized after Santa put his hands on her, I don’t want to waste them.

“Fuck, Beckett. It’sgood. You know it is. Just enjoy it. Lana is…”

Incredible. Sexy. Joyful. Addicting.

He raises an eyebrow at me when I trail off without saying any of that, not sure which adjective to give him.

But I’m not the only one who knows his friend well.

“Yeah,” he says after a minute, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “She’s all that. So do you really think we’ll be able to go back to the way things were after this?”

“Sure,” I lie, then have to look away, scrubbing at the faint ache in my chest.

Beckett snorts. “Want to try that again?” he asks, parroting the question back at me.

“It’s complicated.”

“No shit. And what happens if our relationship with her can’t recover? You really think it’s not gonna get awkward? Are you willing to lose her from our lives forever, just for a few days of fun?”

“It’s more than that,” I snap, then yank my glasses off to polish them so I don’t have to see the sad smile on Beckett’s face.

I can still hear him, though.

“Yeah, that’s kind of my point,” he says quietly.

My gut twists. I understand where Beckett is coming from. He’s putting into words a lot of the same things that held me back when I first tried to ignore my attraction to her the night she came to my hotel room. And maybe he’s right. Maybe it would have been better if we’d never started any of this. But that ship has sailed.

I slide my glasses back into place. “We’re not going to avoid things getting complicated by ending things early.”

Beckett gives me a long look. “It might help.”

“No.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh. “No, you don’t think it will help, or no, you’re not willing to end this before we have to?”

“Are you willing to do that?”

He frowns at me. “I should.”

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