Page 24 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
“Maybe ask first?” I say, dryly.
Holly waves a hand, a small smile returning to her face.
“It’s fine. Help yourselves, seriously. I made a ton so if you don’t, they’ll go to waste.”
That’s all the permission Reece needs before he’s plucking a sugar cookie from the top of the pile and grinning. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Holly huffs out a small laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
She’s retreating back into herself now for some reason, gaze fixed back on her mug.
I wonder if she even wants to be here.
Hopefully our company isn’t too bad to get along with in the meantime.
6
HOLLY
The storm still rages outside.
Its constant roar of wind and ice rattle the window frames, making the entire place practically shake.
Alright, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but the noise certainly does nothing to settle my racing pulse the longer I’m stuffed inside the quaint little cabin with three of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
Jack, Liam, and Reece.
The names hit me in a sequence, solid and familiar in my mind even though my brain’s still trying to catch up with the fact that they’re here, in the flesh, and looking nothing like the half-faded images I’ve been carrying around with me since childhood.
I can’t believe I didn’t recognize them right away.
My dad’s friends—the ones whose photos I used to look at while flipping through old photos my mom always kept stuffed in a shoebox under her bed.
The same ones whose voices I’d heard on my dad’s phone on the rare occasion he actually wanted to spend time with me, beckoning him into ditching me early to go hang out at some bar down the street.
For so long they were stuck at the periphery of my memories, hazy with time.
But now?
Wow. They’re…hot. Like, unfairly hot.
Mega hot, actually.
How the hell did I forgetthat?
It’s like every innocent girl-crush I ever had looking through those photos comes rushing back all at once.
Except now they’ve morphed into something far more dangerous and way more tangible.
My gaze betrays me instantly as I track over them one by one, not being able to help myself.
Jack’s silver hair curled to the side and slightly stubbled jaw shouldn’t be doing things to me, highlighting how sharp his jaw is and making his face looked carved from sin.
His eyes, steady and assessing, lock on me with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.
It feels like he can see straight through me, peeling back every flimsy wall I’ve ever built around myself.
Liam is different with his sharp green eyes and broad shoulders.
