Page 45 of The Holiday Fakers
I nod, guilt eating at my insides, as Brody glances back at me.
We finish up in the kitchen, then Mia herds us into the family room in front of the fireplace.
“Think of this as just a bit of fun, informal practice for Christmas Eve, when I’ve got my proper camera,” she says, steering Dad to the back row behind Mom.
He dips his head to kiss Mom’s cheek, and she smiles, leaning back into him.
I know they’re my parents, and I should be gagging, but seeing the love between them makes me happy.
They were lucky to find their person while they were still in school, and their love has only grown over the years. It’s inspirational, even though it often feels like an impossibly high bar to clear.
“Brody, go behind Piper,” Mia says.
We both hesitate at the same time, and I sense Ethan’s pointed gaze on us again.
I quickly shuffle back until I feel the warmth of Brody’s body behind me, but don’t move any further, so we’re not actually touching.
“Now put your arms around her,” Mia continues.
I can’t feel Brody moving. What should I do?
Mia huffs. “Call yourself an actor? You’re not very good at taking direction.”
I freeze, immediately paranoid that everyone knows Brody is only pretending to be my boyfriend. Then I grab his arm and put it over my shoulder.
“That’s better!” Mia calls out. “Now the other one.”
Brody complies, and suddenly the whole back of my body is flush against the front of his. I’m stiff at first, but the heat from him radiates through me, unwinding the tension in my muscles until I melt against him. It’s the most delicious guilty pleasure, and I don’t want it to end.
Mia’s usually super-efficient when she works, but right now she’s messing around with the people around us, rearranging them again and again while Brody and I stay locked together, a still point in the hubbub.
Only when Hudson pulls out his phone to take a selfie of us all does she stop fussing and step back to take the photo.
“Say ‘true love,’” she cries.
“True love,” Brody rumbles in my ear, and I shiver.
How can I make this moment last? It feels so right, even though I know it’s so wrong.
Eventually, Mia finishes snapping pictures and dips her head to look at the screen.
“If I ignore Hudson,” she says, grinning, “you all look gorgeous.”
“What’s wrong with Uncle Hudson, Aunt Mia?”
“Well, he?—”
“Absolutely nothing,” Hudson cuts in. “Aunt Mia just can’t handle perfection.”
“Areyou perfect?” Martha continues, her eyes wide.
Hudson’s “yes” is immediately drowned out by all our shouts of “no.”
“I think that’s our cue to get you home,” Ethan says to Martha.
She pouts. “But Daddy! We’ve just got here!”
He gently sweeps a lock of blonde hair from her forehead. “It’s way past your bedtime already, pumpkin, and you can see everyone tomorrow.”
