Page 28 of Oh Holy Knight

Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she suppresses a smile.

“So the divorce went through, huh?”

She stares at me for a moment, then she releases her lip.

“It did,” she confirms. “Look, you really don’t have to help me to my car—”

I cut her off.

“I want to.”

“We’ll all come,” Riggs says, stepping to my side. “Here, let me take those bras off your hands, Enzo.”

I smack his hands away.

“Fuck off.”

Danika chuckles and starts to lead us toward the exit. There are so many things I want to say to her, but not with Moe, Larry and Curly behind me. Things like, can I get your number and why don’t we have dinner some time? I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don’t even realize Nico has taken Riggs’ place and is chewing her ear off.

“No plans, huh?” he says, and I blink, trying to understand what the hell they’re talking about.

“Oh, there’s a plan,” she replies. “I’m going home, putting on Christmas Vacation and ordering everything from Jade Island’s menu.”

“Sounds lonely,” Nico comments. “Especially when you can join us.”

“Oh, I like where this is going,” Riggs says.

Wait a minute.

What just happened?

“Enzo here demolished our dad’s house so we’re having Christmas at our bar, Big Nose Kate’s. You’re welcome to join us. There’s plenty of food and if you’re a fan of Clark Griswold, you’ll love our old man.”

“Again, with this Clark guy. When is someone going to introduce me to him?” Bash questions.

Laughing, Danika brings her eyes back to me.

“Your family is quite entertaining.”

That’s one way to describe them.

“They’re a bunch of assholes.”

“I prefer the term festive assholes,” Riggs says. “Hey, do you like turkey?”

She pops the trunk on her Mercedes, and we unload the packages. Once everything—panties and bras included—are tucked safely inside, I close the trunk and turn to her. I can’t ignore the fact my brother just invited her to join us for Christmas dinner, even if the thought of her meeting my family makes me want to vomit.

“You should come,” I blurt.

Preferably all over my tongue, but I suppose Christmas dinner will do.

“What?” she asks.

“To dinner,” I explain. “It’ll be fun.”

That’s of course if you consider a root canal fun.

I jut my thumb over my shoulder.

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