Page 13 of Unwrapping His Naughty Secret

As a single dad who is a bit of a chaotic energy demon himself—although I try to keep that locked down these days—I get it.

My brother arrives first, swinging a sprig of mistletoe. Right behind him is his husband Heath, who is laden down with bags of presents, and their wife Emily, who is carrying a trifle bowl bigger than her head.

I’d forgotten that she was going to make that. It slipped my mind in the Kira-obsession of the past week, which isn’t like me. I’ve been completely family-focused for so long. To have this quiet distraction under my skin is very unlike me.

Wyatt is the reason Hannah and I settled just outside Conception Ridge a decade ago. Back then, it was just the three of us. OnceI sold syndication and print rights of my most popular cartoon strip, I knew I wanted to use that once-in-a-lifetime advance to put down roots, and the Pacific Northwest now feels like home.

And then last year, Wyatt went and fell in love, not once but twice, in a wonderful surprise that almost doubled the size of our little family.

“Come on in,” I say, take the monster-sized trifle. “What kind of gravy did you use?”

Emily rolls her eyes, but that joke slays with Heath. I know my audience.

“Tree is in the same place it was last year.” I jerk my head toward the library.

Heath and Emily head that way. Wyatt hangs the mistletoe on a hook in the archway separating the foyer and the rest of the ground floor before he follows me into the kitchen.

The whole main floor of the split level rambling house is open, with a kitchen at one end and a library at the other, and in between a sunken family room.

It’s a mid-century modern retro throwback to another time, an era I draw a lot in my comics, and I love it.

But it’s too big for just me now that Hannah has moved into town for college.

That’s partly why I demand to host the holiday get togethers.

The other reason is that I miss what we once had.

My kid is busy with her own life.

My brother is busy with his own family.

And I’m…alone.

Which might be too obvious today, or something, because Wyatt is looking at me carefully.“You okay, bro?”

“I’m fine,” I snap, not prepared to tell my younger brother that I’m fucking lonely.

“Festive lying, I like it,” he says with a grin.

Despite myself, I laugh. “Okay, I’m not…fine. But I will be.”

“Work trouble?”

“No.”

“Woman trouble.”

I don’t answerhim.

His eyes light up. “Yessss. It’s woman trouble!” He dances around in a circle, his arms raised over his head victoriously. “I can help with that. I’m so good at women now. Have you tried going down on her again after sex? Like, of course you go down on her before sex, right? But if you do it againafter, she will love you forever.”

“It’s not?—”

He gives me a pitying look. “Oh my God, are you not going down on her first, bro? Because?—”

I slap my hand over his mouth. “There’s no sex. Not…yet? I don’t know.”

His eyes bug out behind my hand. “Blue balls?” He whispers around my fingers.

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