Page 11 of Dragged Home for Christmas

Ashley shook her head. “I’d kill for that figure. And those cheekbones. Not to mention those hips.”

Mike gazed at his surroundings. The gray front desk sat in a corner, stools along one side of it, and off to the left was a staircase lined with white balustrades, the treads covered in carpet in the same shade of gray.

He wandered over to the far corner of the lobby where a white sheet covered a large object. He pulled it back to reveal a baby grand piano, its case dark glossy wood, and a padded bench. Mike lifted the key lid and tinkled a few keys.

“Needs tuning,” he remarked.

“So you’re a piano expert?”

He turned to find a slim, toned man staring at him, arms folded. His jet-black hair was stark against his pale complexion. Dark eyes focused on Mike. He wore a tee and sweatpants, a plaid shirt open over the tee, his feet swathed in thick socks.

Mike ignored the question. “And you are?”

“Elliott. Elliott Goldman. Ant says you’re Mike, Nick’s nephew.” He narrowed his gaze. “You don’t look like him.”

Beside him, Ashley scowled. “Damn. He’s prettier than I am, and believe me, a lot of people would consider me pretty.”

Elliott’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You want some tea?”

What Mike wanted was to gain the upper hand in this conversation, but he sensed he had a way to go before that could happen.

Assess the situation first.Thenissue an ultimatum.

“Sure, I could use a cup. It’s been cold as a freezer in that truck.”

Elliott smirked before shivering. “It isn’t much warmer in here. I’ll switch on the space heater.” He crossedthe floor to where it stood and bent down to flick the switch.

Behind them, the door opened, letting in a waft of cold air, and Mike turned to see the new arrival.

“Who the fuck are you?” A guy of about average height stood there, his arms full of damp brown paper grocery bags, his hair damp too, his jacket dark from where the rain had soaked in. He glared at Elliott. “I’m at the Stop & Shop forfive minutesand you let someone in? Girl, you are one lousy guard dog.”

Mike gazed into blue eyes that went perfectly with the man’s creamy complexion. “If anyone needs a guard dog around here, it’s me.” He set his jaw.

“Meet Nick’s nephew, Mike.” Elliott sighed. “Look, we knew he’d turn up eventually. Let’s try to deal with this calmly.” He smiled. “I’ll be right back with the tea.” He went over to the newest arrival, arms outstretched. “Here, give me those. You play nice with…” He bit his full lower lip. “I wasgoingto say with our guests, but that would be us, wouldn’t it?” And with that, he turned and went in the same direction Anthony had taken.

Mike peered at the newcomer. “And you are?”

“James, but no one calls me that, not if they want to stay upright. Call me Jim.” He glanced at Ashley as he peeled off his jacket. “This your girlfriend? Your wife? Your beard?” He dimpled a smile at Ashley. “No offense, hon.”

“None taken.” Ashley snorted. “Been called worse.” She shivered. “You mind if we continue this conversation closer to the heater?”

Jim gestured to the armchairs and the two couches. “Pick your spot.” He divested himself of his heavy boots.

“There’s a fireplace,” Mike commented. “Couldn’t we just light a fire?”

“Sure.” Jim indicated the door. “Go buy some wood.Or else I’ll find you an ax and you can go chop down a tree. Because those are the only ways that fire is getting lit tonight.”

The door behind the front desk opened again, and a bearded guy walked out, dressed in jeans and a sweater.

Ashley chuckled. “You’re a drag queen? You have to be all of five-feet-five.”

He glared. “There’s this brilliant invention, maybe you’ve heard of it. Heels?”

She snorted again. “More like stilts. I have to ask, do you shave the beard off every time you perform?”

He folded his arms, his shoulders tense. “Not that it has anything to do with you, but the beard is a huge part of who I am. And no, I don’t shave it off. Actually, I dye it blue. To match my hair.”

Mike didn’t want to antagonize any of them. “Who are you?”

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