Page 32 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
9
HOLLY
I need to get out of this cabin before I do something really, really stupid.
Like bend myself over the counter and beg Jack to take me right there once he comes back with that med kit to patch me up.
Or worse, throw myself at Liam or Reece, because let’s be honest, they’re just as gorgeous and probably just as dangerous to my sanity if the opportunity presents itself.
Dinner shouldn’t have been this warm and cozy.
It shouldn’t have felt like some kind of domestic fantasy I’d somehow stumbled into…the kind where I could almost forget this wasn’t my life and these weren’t the men I’d be coming home to every night.
But fuck me, that’s exactly what it feels like.
Jack keeps glancing at me from across the table with those stormy eyes of his, trying to read every secret thought I didn’t want anyone else to know about.
I don’t know how I’ve managed to keep my composure thus far while smiling politely and joining in their banter when I have to because inside?
I’m an utter fucking mess.
My skin feels too tight, my clothes too warm, and every cell in my body is screamingdanger.
Ironically, not from them, it’s from myself.
When we finish, I stack plates automatically and head for the kitchen, desperate for some kind of task to ground myself in before I allow more of my fantasies to take root and make their permanent home lodged inside my brain.
Jack’s voice cuts through my thoughts, anyway, halting me right as I’m about to enter the kitchen.
“Holly, leave it. You’ve done enough. We’ll take care of this.”
I blink at him, caught off guard. “Oh. I don’t mind.”
Before I can finish though, Liam chimes in from where he’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest.
“You heard ‘im. Also, hate to say it but it looks like you’re staying the night. Snow’s still coming down and there’s no way for a plow to come up this way to start clearing the roads until that happens.”
My heart drops.
Oh…fuck.
“No, I—I can make it. If I take it slow?—”
They all fix me with that same look they have been all damn night.
In a strange turn of events, or rather a memory that somehow gets dislodged from the back of my mind, it reminds me of the same one my dad used to give when he was laying down the law after I bothered him one too many times begging for him to play with me while he vegged in front of the TV.
Except these three?
That’s way scarier considering I’m not thinking of them at all like my father figures.
I want those tense expressions to undress me instead of reprimand me.
“You really don’t want to try it, Holly,” Reece says gently, his easy smile softening the words despite them being just as much of a disappointment. “You’d end up in a ditch before you hit the main road. Or off the side of the cliff.”
I hate that they’re right.
Because they are, I know they are.
