“Then put on your boxers,” she drawled. “That seems a little obvious.”

He did step into his boxer briefs then took a swig of his drink. “I’m too sexy for my shirt.” Then he did an impromptu strut, a sort of macho frat boy version of the catwalk, swinging his T-shirt.

Blue didn’t want to laugh. She really didn’t. But by the second pass when he had stuck his hand out and switched to singing some made up song about his general sexiness, she totally lost it.

“Oh, my God, you’re ridiculous.” She was laughing so hard it hurt, especially when he morphed into doing the sprinkler dance move, then did some hip thrusting in his boxers. “Stop.”

He did, then pulled an innocent expression. “Stop what?” He handed over her drink and took another sip of his. “Want any of this food?”

“Sure. Bring the chips to bed and we can get under the covers since this room is, ahem, freezing now from having the door open for what felt like twenty minutes. Maybe there’s something on TV we can watch.”

They settled back into bed, Christian propped up against the headboard, pulling her against him. It was a nice position, all that warm naked man chest behind her, strong enough and broad enough that she just felt relaxed, not like she was crushing the life out of him.

“The temperature’s just right in here,” he told her in a teasing voice as he started channel surfing.

“Uh-huh.” Actually it was, but she wasn’t going to admit it.

“Cool.It’s a Wonderful Lifeis on.” Christian set down the remote on the bed.

Blue sat up and turned to search his face. “Are youserious?I am not watching this schmaltzy crap.”

“Of course I’m serious. This is a great flick. I mean, the dude changes his life and gets a grip on what really matters.”

“That never happens in real life.”

The minute the words were out of her mouth, Blue wanted to retrieve them with a fish hook. Damn it. Now he was going to psychoanalyze her. Or worse, not even care that she’d said something so boo-hiss.

But all he said was, “Sure it does. Happens all the time. And the point of the movie is not to make a totally lost soul find himself, but to remind people who are mostly doing it right to keep on doing it right.”

Blue folded her arms over her bare chest as she frowned at the TV, leaning on his chest. “I still don’t want to watch it.”

“Fine. But ifCharlie Brown's Christmasis on we’re watching it.”

“You do realize that all those Christmas specials are horrible? I mean, something awful happens in every single one. The island of misfit toys, Charlie Brown’s pathetic little tree, Cindy Lou Who watching the Grinch steal all her presents, Frosty melting . . . they’re depressing.”

“They all have happy endings.”

Blue snorted. “Yeah, after everything sucked, anything even remotely okay seems brilliant.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into it.”

Blue picked up the remote, but somehow found herself not pushing the buttons, just staring blankly at Jimmy Stewart. “So have you, obviously.”

Christian brushed her hair off her shoulder.

She shrugged.

“Was Christmas really that awful for you?” he asked in a soft voice that made her shoulders stiffen.

Her throat felt tight and she wanted to laugh it off, blow him off, deflect the question with wit or sarcasm. But she couldn’t. She nodded. “Yeah. For most kids, aside from the religious aspect, Christmas was about them. For me, it was like the one day that made it really, really clear that I was an afterthought in my parents’ lives.”

She was glad he was behind her so he couldn’t see her face. She knew she didn’t mask her emotions well and she was feeling really vulnerable. But at the same time, she was actually relieved she’d spoken the truth. She had never admitted that out loud to anyone in her entire life and she instinctively knew that she could trust Christian with something so personal. Maybe it was even easier because she’d just met him. She didn’t know exactly what it was about him that instilled such confidence, but her heart did pound a little faster than normal as she waited for his response.

He kissed the top of her head. She’d never really had a man do that, and Christian had already done it more than once. It made her feel . . . protected.

“I’m sorry, Blue,” he said, brushing his lips across her temple. “That’s a raw deal and you deserved better than that.”

She turned her head slightly, trying to see his expression. “You’re not going to tell me that I’m whining? To suck it up. That everyone’s family is dysfunctional and I should get over it?”