Page 40 of A More Than Mayhem Christmas

Micky and I share a glance, pouting and sharing an, “Awww.”

“That’s so adorable,” Micky adds, then makes sure to get my attention when she adds, “Good dad qualities.”

I stifle my giggle while Roman looks even more confused.

“Stand up. Time to work on the dress.”

Roman lies back in the bathtub and closes the shower curtain, as if Micky’s about to strip. She’s not. I do my best with what I have, which isn’t much. It’s too cold out to reveal any skin, so I just lay the fabric over her clothes and use safety pins to pin it in place, creating shape where I can. It takeswaylonger than I thought, and when I’m done, I say, “It’s not the best, but it’ll have to do.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” Micky says.

I say over my shoulder. “What do you think, Roman?”

There’s no response, and so I turn to the tub, slide open the curtain, ready to get his attention. But… I’m pretty sure the man isasleep. Sitting upright, his hands linked and on his lap, his chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm.

I turn to Micky, who grimaces, and then, as quietly as possible, I flick on the shower, busting out a laugh when Roman gasps the second the spray of water hits him. “What the—” He’s quick to come to. Quick to realize who’s responsible for his soaking, and I’m slow… way too slow to react when his hands reach out for me, lifting me over the lip of the bath and directly on top of him. I scream, wiggling as I try to get out of his hold and avoid the oncoming spray.

Micky laughs, then shouts over the chaos, “I’ll be right back!”

I manage to flip over and turn off the stream, just as the front door opens and Amanda calls out, “Ready when you are! I’ll leave a flashlight by the door!”

Cool.

Great.

Awesome.

Roman has an erection, and I know, because I’m straddling it.

I clear my throat, avoid all eye contact, and quickly hop out of the bath.

Roman does the same, minus the throat clearing. He does, however, adjust himself, right at my eye level as I attempt to towel off any excess water from my jeans.

“I’m hard, and you’re so damn wet,” he says out of nowhere, his voice low,rough.

Eyes wide in shock, I pop my head up and screech, “What?”

After a chuckle, he grabs another towel and starts drying his hair. “It’s so easy to mess with you.”

I shake my head, trying to ignore the inferno he just lit deep inside me. Too bad that heat won’t do anything for me outside. “I’m going to freeze out on that dock.”

“Nah, I’ll keep you warm.”

Standing to full height, I lift my chin and lock my eyes on his. I can’t tell if he’s still messing with me or… “Are you flirting with me, Roman…”Shit.“What’s your last name?”

He smirks—a wicked little sight that has my pulse racing. “You’ll have to go flipping through some old yearbooks for that one.”

“Hmm.” It’s all I say before I open the door to make my escape. A sea of bodies greets me, all large and masculine and turned away from me. Logan, Dylan and Cam are standing just outside the closed bedroom door, and they all turn to me when I ask, “What’s going on?”

Cam speaks for all of them, his voice just above a whisper. “We weren’t sure if she wanted one of us to walk her down the aisle or…”

My shoulders drop as I eye each of them one by one and, suddenly, it occurs to mewhyI’ve had so much trouble with the men in my life. It’s because I hold them to the same standard as the three men standing in front of me. I met them as boys—all impulse and bravado, and maybe a little immaturity, but they were always respectful. Always considerate. Always loyal—to their girls and to each other. Through the years, they’ve only grown in those sentiments. And my love for them, as brothers, has grown with it.

I push down the knot in my throat, the ache in my chest. “Did you ask her?”

“Not yet,” Dylan answers.

Logan adds, “We don’t really know how to bring it up…”

---