Page 21 of Take Me Home for Christmas

I told you, he could captivate ’em. He was a natural-born charmer. Which made me shake my head and force myself back to reality. “Hey, can someone help us unload the car?” I called out. “I’ve got cookies.”

I busied myself with the task, reminding myself that falling under Brax’s spell could only bring disaster.

Chapter Eight

Brax

Mia opened the trunk and started to hand over cookies, presents, and other Christmas stuff to the males of her family. I stopped her at her suitcase and my duffel and took over. She looked a little startled, like she didn’t expect me to do that. I didn’t know what that said about the ex Gabe had briefly mentioned—Chuckie, Chad, Charlie, whatever his name was.

Judging by the way she interacted with her two very tall, very built brothers, both of whom were eyeing me like I was something that the dog had dragged in, I could see how she was, in a lot of ways, one of the guys. Which was one thing I really liked about her—she had zero sense of entitlement.

For some strange reason, that made me want to do even more for her. Besides, that’s what a good boyfriend did, right? I wouldn’t really know since I never let my relationships last long enough to find out.

The D’Angelo house looked like it had jumped right off the Hallmark channel, only to land in a rolling landscape dotted by pine trees. Mom D’Angelo hugged me like I was one of her own.The first thing she said—whispered, actually, was “Thank you for making my daughter so happy.”

For someone who’d been through hell and back, I marveled that she was completely keyed in to her daughter’s well-being. She instantly made me feel like she was the kind of mom who would be just fine with her clan putting their feet up on cushy ottomans in a big, beamed family room with a crackling fire, or helping themselves to food in the fridge or falling asleep on the couches after an amazing dinner.

The bros had taken our travel bags as soon as I’d set them on the ground, so I tried to take some of the packages brimming over from Mia’s arms. Apparently, she’d brought presents for everyone, something else that amazed me. I was starting to think that she loved Christmas as much as her mom.

“I’m not helpless—hey!”

That was from me subtly tickling her side and then snatching the pile of gifts. “Hope you brought one for the dog.” I couldn’t resist poking fun.

“I would never forget Cooper,” she said adamantly.

I laughed and shook my head. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

Mia’s mom stood near the front steps as we piled into the house. Despite all her friendliness, she also looked at me with shrewdness—a carefully assessing gaze. I sensed that she’d seen our interaction and was sizing me up, seeing if I was good enough for her daughter.

Of course, I, Brax, was not. But Brax, Boyfriend for Hire, would have to be. And so I shifted the packages and placed a hand gently on Mia’s back like maybe a good boyfriend would as she headed up the front stairs to the wide front porch and tried not to notice her great ass. She instantly stiffened under my touch. Yeah. Awkward. But hey, I would play my part to the max, because a promise is a promise.

Thank goodness her parents were absolutely not going to tolerate any hanky-panky in their home. Sharing a room would be really uncomfortable, considering we’d actuallydonesaid hanky-panky.

Speaking of that, it was the really, really awesome kind. Like, the kind that comes around only in your wildest dreams. Where you’re so in sync, you start to think that this person really understands you.Getsyou in ways no one had before.

Good thing I’d decided long ago that getting serious wasn’t for me.

As I walked up the steps and passed over the threshold, the dog rushed to squeeze through the doorway with us, and I was so busy avoiding stepping on him that I immediately clunked my head on a giant ball of mistletoe.

Mia, who was next to me, righted the swinging ball. “Are you okay?” she asked with concern. She was close, right next to me. We both became aware of the mistletoe, the logjam of family, and Cooper barking excitedly, not to mention each other. And we both sort of froze.

Kiss or not?

I cleared my throat.

“Don’t you two even know what to do with the mistletoe?” Caleb said, shaking his head. He’d been sizing me up ever since I’d stepped out of the car. I didn’t think I’d met him before, but I knewofhim—being an orthopedic resident from UW, he’d definitely rotated through Children’s as part of his program. He had the reputation of being levelheaded and friendly, although I’d never guess that from the evil eye he was giving me.

“Shut up, Cay,” Mia fired back. She grabbed the packages from my arms and handed them over to Caleb. Who promptly shot me a dirty look.

I wasn’t one to avoid a challenge. Before I could think, I closed the gap between us, bent my head, and kissed her. Mistletoe was mistletoe, right?

Her lips were tense with surprise, but then suddenly yielding, soft and warm. She tasted like coffee and cinnamon and cool December air. I tried to keep the kisses short and brief, but she pushed closer to me, closing the gap between us. She kissed me deeper, moving her lips against mine, wrapping her arms under my jacket, around my waist. I felt their heat and the soft brush of her hands through my shirt.

We just fit together, our bodies, our lips, our hands. For the sake of decency, I finally pulled back, sucking in a breath of air to try and calm my pounding pulse, disguising my shock at the intensity of those few PG-rated kisses. (At least I hoped we’d kept them PG.)

Mia looked dazed, her eyes soft and unfocused. She managed a quick smile, then backed up before following Beth into the foyer. Caleb mumbled something and walked ahead of me.

I was grateful to direct my mind to the house and trail behind Caleb to recover my senses. Its Victorian character was evident from lots of woodwork in the foyer and a large staircase with a shiny lacquered banister strung with lighted garlands. The banister was the kind that made me imagine kids sliding down it, screaming with glee. I tried not to let my pediatrician brain interfere by imagining ER visits for sprained ankles and fractured wrists.

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