Page 18 of Flown in for Christmas

“She’s in advertising,” he announces, leaving out the part where I work for DSG, or that I’m also his personal assistant.

“Whereabouts?” Bruce asks. “We’re always looking for better eyes at Davis.”

My smile becomes pained as I open the container and set it on the table. Tucker dives for one immediately, stuffing it into his face before Natalie can catch him.

“What’s the name of that place again, Joy?” Nick asks me, a nervous jump in his leg as I sit back down.

“A temp agency,” I lie cooly, surprising myself. “Nowhere anyone here has heard of, honey.”

Betty shuffles in with yet another pie. “Well, it sounds like you’ll be a perfect fit in the family business, Joy-dear,” she adds, glancing at the head of the table.

“I’m not sure if Nick mentioned,” his father says, “but it’s always been the goal for the whole family to grow together as a unit. It’s one of the reasons Steve and I started Davis Sporting Goods to begin with.” He starts to get a bit emotional at the very mention of his late brother. “We wanted something to live on for generations. Something to sustain our families and so on.”

“That’s beautiful,” I can’t help but say aloud, blushing as Darcy and Eric laugh (hopefully not at me) at the other end of the table. Because for Bruce and his brother to think of future generations as a growing unit, for him to put his family—hisfamily’sfamilies—first, is just… I’m speechless.

Uncle Allen raises his glass of amber liquid. “Hear, hear!”

Nick’s arm slides around my waist, his sure hand resting firmly over my hip and thigh—grazingmy butt. I peer up at him and loseall train of thought as he grins from ear to ear. Why is he so smiley? Was it something I said?

“To family,” he says, his gaze on me as he raises his glass to clink his uncle’s.

Bruce begins to tell the long-winded origin story of his sporting goods empire. Dessert finishes and I help Betty and Aunt Sara clear the table. I’m in the kitchen loading the dishwasher when my jaw cracks with a massive yawn. Between all the craziness of getting ‘engaged’ upon arrival, I’ve forgotten that it’s been a long,longday.

“Ready to head up?” said fiancé asks behind me as I close the door to the dishwasher.

I turn, finding him on the other side of the central, six-seater island. “Ready if you are,” I say, then promptly cover my mouth with another yawn.

He grins. “Rich and Leah are staying in the guest house, so, uh, we’ll be in my room. If that’s all right with you.”

I nod, my cheeks heating at the very thought of sharing a space with him—let alone abed. The feeling is short-lived, however, from the pure exhaustion that washes over me. Do I really care? I’m so tired I’ll be asleep the second my head hits the pillow, I’m sure of it.

We say our goodnights to the few still lingering around the dining room, noting the disappearance of his cousin and girlfriend. “Is everyone staying here at the house?” I ask as we gather my things from the foyer.

“Not everyone,” he says, hefting my carry-on while I grab my purse. “My grandparents live right up the road, but they’ll be here every day this week. Eric and Darcy got a hotel as far as I know. So, yeah, everyone else will be up first thing in the morning. Wouldn’t be surprised if we hear Izzy crying at some point tonight.”

I yawn, following him up the stairs to his bedroom. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

We make a left at the top of the staircase and walk to the end of the hall before he opens a door on the right. I take in the space, noting the dark wood finishes and the large king-size bed with a four-poster bedframe that takes up a majority of the room. There are two more doors on either side of the room, one is open revealing an ensuite bathroom and I can only assume the other is a closet.

“Did you want to use the bathroom first?” he asks, closing the door behind us. He rolls my bag toward the unopened door to amassivewalk-in closet.

I would’vekilledfor a closet like that growing up.

“This is your room,” I say, then realize howduhit sounds. Shaking my head with a laugh, I set my purse on the nightstand furthest from the door on instinct. “I mean, was this your childhood bedroom?”

“Mine? No.” He chuckles. “My sister and I shared a bedroom until I was eight. That’s about when DSG started taking off. We upgraded to a three-bedroom in town, that’s where my parentslived for about fifteen years before building this house. Theirdream family gathering homeas my mother loves to call it.”

I smile. “Your family is amazing.”

Nick leans a shoulder against the door frame to the closet. “You did pretty amazing yourself down there.”

“I’ve been known to tell a white lie or two.” I shrug. “And I do have an older brother.”

“Is that who you were visiting? In LA, I mean.”

How do I say this? “Emmett, um… canceled on me at the last second. And bythe last second, I wasatthe airport looking for him when he said he was too busy for Christmas this year.” I sigh at the very thought. Such a dick move.

“I’d say I’m sorry to hear that, but it seems that worked out in my favor, huh?” he muses. “I did wonder how the hell you got to the airport so fast.”

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