Page 57 of Tinsel in Telluride

She also has all the layers of an onion but with the poise of a viscountess. Keeping her thoughts close to chest, only letting things like this slip when she’s comfortable. The same way she did earlier today when she admitted she’s scared I’m taking Zach from her.

The panic in her eyes scared the shit out of me. But learning about the ripple effects my actions have had on her life nearly broke me.

I’m damn lucky she’s standing here at all.

The image of her sitting on that bench, tears in her eyes, is something I will forget or forgive myself for.

Fuck, just thinking about it makes my chest hurt.

There’s no way I could’ve known. I was young and dumb with a misconstrued idea of right from wrong.

I should’ve found her sooner. Protected her from my mother. I should’ve admitted the lies I told and saved her from the fallout.

Should’ve.

Could’ve.

Didn’t.

But I’m going to fix it. I’m going to—shit, I don’t know, but I am going to prove I’m worthy of her and Zach.

“Luca?”

“Huh?” I look up from the spot on the floor I’ve been boring a hole into while making silent vows to myself.

“You ready?”

“Oh. Yeah.” I grab the jingle shirt from the bed and slip it over my head, silently living for the way Leigh tries to hide she’s watching my skin disappear from view.

She’s going to need to knock that shit off if she wants me to continue keeping my hands to myself.

I offer her my arm as I meet her at the door. “Ready to rock around the Christmas tree?”

Her lips press into a line, and she shakes her head. And I remember I still need to ask her why she hates my favorite holiday.

Later.

Because, when she slips her hand around my arm and grips it tight, I forget about anything else.

I like having her there.

I want her there more.

“You missed a spot near the bottom,” Bash hollers from the opposite side of the room. He’s cutting pieces of printer paper into snowflakes—and I might be mistaken from this distance—but I’m fairly certain he’s making all the cutouts dick-shaped. You’d never know the guy was a star-defensive-lineman-turned-team-owner with the way he acts like a frat boy ninety percent of the time.

Not that I have much room to talk in this outfit. I tug at the crotch of the tiny red shorts in an attempt to lengthen them, but it’s no use.

Might as well make the best of an embarrassing situation.

I round the tree and bend over, making a show in front of the guys. They hoot and holler as I adjust the lights that really didn’t need adjusting in the first place.

Zach, who has taken up a spot at the bottom of the tree with the sole goal of making sure my string of lights gets as tangled as possible, watches me move my ass back and forth.

A large toothy grin stretches across his small face, and he pops up beside me and bends over, shaking his little diaper butt alongside mine.

The guys cheer him on, and he giggles like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever done.

It’s just another reason I love them. This is my life now and aside from giving me shit for not telling them, they jumped in with both feet and accepted it.

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