Page 120 of Holiday Hire

I take a sip of coffee. The hot liquid flows into my belly but doesn't feel very good. I cringe, clutching my stomach.

He sits next to me, puts his hand on my back, and leans closer. "Pheebs, you look green."

"I'll be okay."

He takes a sip of coffee, then declares, "If it makes you feel any better, I've never seen anyone beat Sebastian. You've got some real beer chugging skills."

I faintly remember poking a hole in a can and then holding it to my mouth while everyone around us was cheering. I put my arms on the table and hide my face in them. I close my eyes and mumble, "It's your family's fault. There's too much peer pressure."

Alexander chuckles. "Is that the story you're sticking with?"

I force myself to meet his gaze. "Yeah."

He grins and then puts his hand on my thigh. He leans closer. "You know they'll want to party again tonight, right?"

I wince. "They will?"

He grins. "Yep. Do you want a beer now? You can get a head start by having some of the hair of the dog that bit you."

I whine, "That sounds disgusting."

"Your call." He sits back, amused, and takes another sip of coffee.

I force myself to pry my head off the table and glance out the window, then state, "It looks like the snow's coming down hard."

"Yeah. Started right before we got home."

"It did?" I pin my eyebrows together, trying to remember walking home from the main house, but nothing registers.

He asks, "You don't remember me carrying you, do you?"

My cheeks heat. I admit, "No. How bad was I?"

"I wouldn't say bad. You were just pretty animated," he teases.

"I'm sorry. Not very nanny-ish of me."

He laughs. "You're not really on nanny duty right now. It's Thanksgiving. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way."

"Happy Thanksgiving," I reply, and take another sip.

"Do you want anything to eat? Some toast might help," he offers.

My belly flips. "No. I might get sick if I do."

"Aww," he coos, scooting closer and slinging his arm around me. "I feel bad I let you drink so much."

I close my eyes, resting against his chest. I mumble, "It wasn't your fault."

"Still..."

"I'll be okay," I insist. Then I ask, "Why did you carry me?"

"You might have had some issues walking in the snow after your third round with Sebastian."

I gape at him.

He grins, then suggests, "Why don't you get some more sleep and let the headache tablets kick in? It's still early."

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