Page 28 of Tinsel in Telluride

The eyes of my coffee cohort watch me as I slip the carafe back in the fridge. It’s a bit unnerving, but I get it. I’m the girl who crashed their apparently sacred Christmas.

Rising to my full height, albeit way shorter than him, I lift my narrowed gaze to meet his caramel eyes. “So that accounts for three of the four. Which would make you?”

“Sebastian Hart.” He extends a hand, and when I place mine in his, he grips it firmly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian.”

He huffs a laugh and brings my hand to lips, pressing a light kiss to my knuckles. “You can call me Bash. Especially If I’m about to be an uncle to your kid.”

So he’s the shameless flirt of the group.

Noted.

I raise a skeptical brow.“And who says you are?”

“You’re the baby momma, right?”

“Ha,” I scoff. He makes it sound so simple.“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Bash winks and, paired with the accent, I’m sure it’s a tactic to win over hearts and panties everywhere.

Too bad I’m immune to the bullshit of athletes.

Well, most of them anyway.

“Then I’m definitely Bash.” His smile falters. “Unless the kid’s not Luca’s. Then I guess we’ll have to see if he keeps you around.”

“What if I don’t keep him around?” I counter.

“Eh.” Bash shrugs and turns on his heel, heading back to the kitchen. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

My eyes go wide. He wouldn’t?

“Aren’t you supposed to be on his side?” What kind of friends does Luca have that they would side with a woman they just met? One he is clearly not a fan of at the moment.

“Oh, I am. But as his friend, I also know Luca is a special brand of extra. He jumps without looking and fumbles for his parachute on the way down.”

That is one hundred percent not how I would describe the Luca I remember. He was a minion of his parents—wealthy, calculating and self-serving. He didn’t do anything without an agenda.

Bash extends a hand toward the stool next to him, gesturing for me to join. “Plus, I really should be thanking you.”

“Thanking me?” I reluctantly lower myself onto the barstool, leaving one between us. I pull out my phone and prop it up on the lazy Susan in front of me in case Zach wakes up.

Bash leans over and looks before settling back into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Absolutely, with you here, thismeans I can convince Luca to relax his rules of no woman at Bucket List Christmas.”

Laughter bubbles from me. It’s such a typical guy answer. And yet there’s a part of my heart—one I loathe to admit exists—that melts just a tiny bit at the thought that Luca is the one who protects this time with his friends. It’s something I understand. He’s the Indie of their group. Relating him to my own friend group almost makes him seem a bit more human. Which is not something I thought I’d equate to Luca.

Shit.

Does this mean I have to admit to Willow she might be right about him?

Might.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking, Baby Momma.”

Bash pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up to see him sipping his coffee. “I’m never gonna ditch that nickname, am I?”

He grins. “Probably not.”

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