Page 31 of Holiday Hostilities

And, hopefully, to make him vaguely wonder if I tampered with his pie.

Which I absolutely did not, but the thought of himthinkingthat I did makes me feel very thankful for this joyous Thanksgiving occasion.

As we wait, I take out my phone and quickly check my email. My December schedule should be out today, and I’m eagerly seeking the silver lining of knowing which far-flung place I’ll be in for Christmas.

The door finally swings open to reveal Aaron in the entryway, smiling like a total ass-hat (though he does, unfortunately, have a very cute ass-hat smile). He’s dressed up, wearing khakis and a crisp, white button-down shirt that looks like a terrible choice in which to cook (or consume) turkey, but a great choice for showing off that annoyingly perfect olive complexion of his.

“Hey, guys,” he says warmly, his lips tipping up further when his gaze zeroes in on me.

“Hey, man.” Jake claps Aaron on the back. Sofia then steps forward and gives Aaron a hug, which he reciprocates.

He then turns to me, but doesn’t attempt to give me a hug as he did Sofia, thank goodness. Probably because I absolutely would have kneed him in the unmentionables if he had done so, and he knows it. “Welcome. Come on in.”

He sounds like a villain enticing us into his lair. All handsome, and ominous, and morally gray, and muscular to boot, and…

No, stop it!

Fricking Jing and her fricking romance books making me almost forget that this stuff isn’t meant to be attractive.

While Aaron retrieves the food from my arms in a convincing imitation of a gentleman, I glance around. I’m half expecting to see blood-red paint, and bearskin rugs, and deer heads mounted on the walls, and furniture in the shape of coffins (because I have zero imagination when it comes to villains). But instead, everything is very… nice.

More than nice.

The house is large, but not pretentious, with light Scandi-style floors and an abundance of windows. Throw in the cozy-looking furniture and the selection of houseplants on display and, well, it’s eerily similar to what I would wantmyhouse to look like, in my dream world.

Almost like he had it staged this way, just to taunt me. Which he obviously didn’t, but still, I am finding it very difficult to believe that Aaron Marino has such good taste in decor.

As Jake and Sofia make their way down the hallway, Aaron hangs back and falls into step with me.

“What’s wrong, Lil Griz?” Aaron looks down at me. The way he towers over me makes me feel positively diminutive, and I’m not sure I like it. “My digs not to your liking?”

“You have a beautiful home,” I tell him primly, remembering my vow to be on my best behavior.

Those dratted lips pull up at their dratted corners again.

“Well, you look beautiful in my beautiful home,” he drawls.

I roll my eyes at him. “Don’t be facetious.”

“Take the compliment.” His eyes land on mine for one long, loaded moment before he smiles. “You guys are the last to arrive. Everyone else is out back.”

He proceeds to direct me down the hallway to the behemoth kitchen, which smells like absolute heaven with scents of cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla swirling in the air. He deposits my dishes on one of the overcrowded counters—there are countless sheet pans, crockpots, salad bowls, and servingplatters taking up every square inch of space that’s not crowded with wine and beer bottles and jugs of cocktails.

Overcrowding aside, the kitchen is annoyingly just as classy and perfect as the entryway. The statement piece is the farmhouse sink beneath a picture window overlooking a huge deck and garden, where the other guests are milling around.

Jake is already helping himself to a beer—Dos Equis, like always—from an ice bucket. The host, meanwhile, rolls his eyes at my brother in a jokey tsk-tsk manner and turns to Sofia. “Seeing as your boyfriend appears to have left his manners at home, can I get you a drink?”

She pokes her tongue out at Jake teasingly. “Absolutely, you can.”

“Sauv Blanc?”

“Please.”

“You know it, Sof,” Aaron replies. It’s like he’s known Sofia for years. He’s always had this way about him—he makes people feel like they matter to him. Feel warm towards him.

It’s probably why so many women trip over themselves for him.

Well, that and his traffic-stopping face.

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