Page 21 of Bragg's Christmas

“Yes, this is our house. And you get to pick out your room.”

“I get to pick out my room!” She jumps up and down. “Nanny Love! Help me pick out my room.”

Love Hill enters the house carrying a box and I scowl.

“I told you not to carry anything.”

She rolls her eyes. “Because I’m a defenseless woman and need a man to do everything for me?”

I know better than to respond to those words. “No. Because you’re supposed to be watching Skye.”

My daughter rushes to her and snatches her hand before dragging her away. “Come, Nanny Love. We can pick out my room.”

Love Hill cocks a brow at me. I lean close to whisper. “It’s the first room on the left upstairs.”

She guides Skye toward the stairs. “Dad says the bedrooms are upstairs.”

Dad says?She makes it sound as if we’re together. Why does the thought excite me? It shouldn’t. Love Hill and I are not together. We will never be together. I’m not going to fuck my nanny and screw up my daughter’s life.

“Hello!” a voice calls from the front entrance and I force thoughts of Love Hill and all the things I want to do to her body out of my mind.

I open the door and smile at the five elderly women standing on my porch. “Hello. How may I help you?”

One of the women snorts before pushing her way past me into the house. The rest follow her. I trail behind.

“It’s not how you can help us, but how we can help you.”

I scratch my beard. “How you can help me?”

“Maybe we should introduce ourselves to the latest Bragg arrival,” another woman says.

“You know who I am?”

One of them giggles. “Of course, we know who you are. We know everything happening in our town.”

What is going on here? My brothers didn’t warn me five old women would invade my home. Although, considering the secret I’ve been keeping, I’m surprised they didn’t swarm my house already and demand we play a game of truth or punch.

Truth or punch is played exactly how you’d think. Tell the truth or you get punched. Plus, there’s drinking. Lots and lots of drinking.

“I’m Sage,” the woman who stormed the house says. “I’m the queen of the gossip gals.”

“The gossip gals?”

She motions to the women. “We’re the gossip gals.”

“But she’s not our queen,” one of the women mutters.

Sage rolls her eyes. “But I am in charge.”

“No, you’re not,” the woman grumbles at her before smiling my way. “Hi, I’m Feather. I own the ice cream shopFeather’s Frozen Delights.I’m also your best source for sexy books.”

“Sexy books?”

“You know. If you need any inspiration in the bedroom.” She winks.

“Um, I think I’m okay.”

“Really?” another woman asks. “Are you married? In a relationship? Dating anyone?”

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