Page 3 of Just One More Mistletoe

“Whatever. But baseball’s another story. How ’bout those Yankees?” A twinkle sparkled in her glorious eyes.

Apparently, she’d been giving him a hard time and was probably as big a sports fanatic as he.

“Hard to believe any Corbin would wear a jersey to an office party, though.” Her brows rose in surprise.

On any other woman, the gesture would remind him of his judgmental federal court judge mother. But on her, the otherwise critical display indicated curiosity and interest, not disdain. “You’ve got that right. But I’m not a typical Corbin.” He felt the welcome tug of a smile.

She inclined her head, her silky blonde hair brushing her shoulders much the way he’d like it caressing his skin. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

Once again, her trembling fingers touched her mouth, this time tracing the outline of her reddened lips before she caught herself and stepped around the tree, reaching for the first gift-wrapped package she could find. He allowed her escape for the moment, watching the sexy sway of her hips in retreat. And in that instant, her words immediately after that mind-blowing kiss came back to him. You’re not him. You’re nothing like Stephan.

She’d kissed him and had known instantly. And she wasn’t all that upset and she definitely wasn’t unaffected. The thought pleased him. Though Max could never compete with his twin as a Corbin son who’d chosen the corporate world, he’d obviously made headway with . . . his brother’s woman? His gut clenched at the thought.

“Hello, Max.” Stephan walked up beside him.

“Hey, little brother.” Catching the scowl on his twin’s face, Max grinned, feeling on safe, sibling-sparring ground. “‘Little brother’ is a figure of speech. You know that. But you also know I got sprung first.”

“Three minutes isn’t enough to hold it over me our entire lives,” Stephan said with characteristic grumbling. “But I’m glad you made it.”

“Thanks for inviting me.” It gave Max hope he’d leave here with more than he’d arrived with.

At the very least, a renewed connection to his twin and at best, a new woman in his life? Possible, Max thought, unless—he glanced at his brother. “Who’s the elf?”

Stephan folded his arms across his chest and glanced around the tree to where the woman who’d kissed Max senseless now tried to feign interest in her bag of toys and not the Corbin brothers. Max stifled a smile.

“Who, Brandy?” Stephan asked.

“Brandy.” Max tested the name on his tongue, liking the sound.

“She’s the office manager I’m taking over for,” Stephan said.

“Any interest?” Max asked, needing to lay his cards on the table.

Stephan shook his head. “Maybe when I first started working here, but that was a while ago. And once we became colleagues…” He waved his hand in dismissal. “No interest.”

It was obvious to Max that she didn’t feel the same—at least she hadn’t before kissing the wrong twin, but no point in informing his brother now. “You sure?”

“No interest. Not that way.” Stephan glanced at him, surprised but obviously certain. “Field’s clear.”

And so were his brother’s words. Nothing stood between Max and his elf.

He turned, determined to stake his claim, but she was talking with a female colleague, and then without warning the conference room was overrun with scampering, chattering children. “What’s this?” Max asked over the din.

Stephan laughed. “This is Brandy’s contribution to the annual firm Christmas party. We always made a cash donation to a charity, but she insists we do something more personal, too. Now we buy gifts for the kids at one of the local women’s shelters and Santa hands them out—with her help.”

“Santa?”

“Our old, other head partner.” His voice darkened at the words. “But not this year. He’s been gone awhile.” He shook his head. “Not something I want to talk about but there is something you should know.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Stephan drew a deep breath. “Samantha, the owner of the firm, encouraged us to invite family and since Dad’s office is around the corner… he’s stopping by.”

Shit, Max thought. He had seen his parent when he’d been in the hospital recently, and again when he’d been released. Yet apparently the stroke had prompted a renewal in the man’s determination to get Max back into the family fold because their last conversation had begun and ended there. “Does he plan to hammer home the notion of me going to law school at this late date and then taking over the firm? Because I’m not a lawyer and never will be.” Their father lost Stephan to PR and Max to the investigation side of things.

“I will say he’s determined enough for four men but hopefully you drove your point home last time,” Stephan said.

Max winced and decided to think of other, more pleasurable things.

---