Page 28 of Under the Mistletoe

“Then he would have packed your bags and turned you out into the cold,” Shane teases.

But when I look back at Dean, who is busily working on making our drinks, and he doesn’t confirm or deny his friend’s words, I get the impression that maybe the idea isn’t so farfetched. Niles had said, after all, that they had been searching for the right woman for a long time, but there was always something one of them didn’t agree on.

Maybe this was one of them?

I give myself a mental pat on the back for passing the unspoken test.

“I’ll go get us some towels,” Niles says and points at Shane. “You get the blankets, and we’ll all meet in the living room.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Shane is a character too, not to be outshined by Dean in the least. While they each have their own personality separate and distinct from each other, I love how they play off one another. Niles, Dean, and Shane are playful yet serious when the situation calls for it. Call me crazy, but that seems like the perfect combination.

Soaked practically to the bone and starting to shiver, I follow Dean’s example and start peeling off the layers of clothing until I am down to the last pair of pants and my bra. I hesitate because I’m not wearing any panties, and while they’ve already seen it all, I’m not entirely comfortable just walking around in the nude.

Thankfully, Shane and Niles reappear with their respective items and Niles hands me an oversize midnight-black towel, while Shane begins setting up the couch in the living room. I finish taking my clothes off, ignoring the lingering looks from the three of them, and wrap myself up in the warm, dry towel.

Dean is finishing up the drinks, placing the steaming mugs on a tray, as Niles, Shane, and I take seats on the couch. Somehow, I end up in the center again, framed by both men, and it’s nice. Especially when they pull up the impossibly soft throws—are they made of chenille?—and envelope us in a cocoon of warmth.

“Well,” Niles says as he picks up the television remote, turns it on, and clicks a few buttons to start up an app, “I know it’s not Stallone related, but who’s up for some Die Hard tonight?”

I nod. “I love those movies. And Bruce is a hottie.”

Shane looks at me in surprise. “Good to know I can lose all my hair and you’ll still think I’m sexy.”

“Well, that all depends. Not everyone can be Bruce,” I tease.

Shane clutches his hand over his heart as if he’s hurt.

Sitting on Niles’ right-hand side, Dean sips his hot chocolate, leaving the rest of us to retrieve our mugs from the tray he’s set up in front of us. “Well you know what they say. It’s not Christmas until Hans Gruber falls off the Nakatomi Plaza.”

The three of us stare at Dean for a moment, and then burst out in collective laughter that he joins in on. Feeling lighter than I had this morning, I’m starting to think that maybe missing my flight won’t be as tragic as I’d thought. Maybe, just maybe, getting snowed in with three sexy-as-hell bachelors is the gift I never knew I wanted but now I have to have.

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