Page 33 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
I’m just being stubborn—or rather, trying to keep my self-preservation skills intact.
Keeping my bakery closed one more day isn’t the worst. I don’t have customers anyway.
“Fine,” I mumble, setting the plates back down on top of the table with a little more force than necessary.
Clearly, it’s not like I have a choice in this.
Even if I could manage to sneak around their watchful eyes and leave, they’re right: we’re completely snowed in.
There’s no way I’d be able to dig my car out of the driveway or get it down the mountain with two feet of snow covering the road.
My car’s a beast, but it’s not a snowcat.
I’m stuck whether I want to be here or not.
Reece smiles at me again.
“Good news though, I made up the guest room on the right side of the hallway for you. Fresh sheets and all. You’ll be nice and comfy.”
“Thanks,” I say, sighing. I didn’t need to tell him I’d already made it when I was cleaning earlier.
Before I can convince myself otherwise, my feet carry me toward the living room, retreating before my hormones betray me.
“Goodnight, Holly,” Jack calls after me.
Liam follows with, “Have a good sleep.”
“Night,” Reece adds, and it sends heat crawling up the back of my neck.
I practically bolt down to the guest room, shutting the door quietly behind me.
The second the lock latches into place, I sag against the door, trying to ignore how hard my heart is pounding.
What thehellis wrong with me.
Either my perpetual singleness has finally caught up with me, or I’m in desperate need of getting laid, because there’s no otherexplanation for why I should be acting like some rabid animal in heat.
It’s not like I’ve never been around hot men before.
Is the taboo the thrill?
I’ve never been that kind of thrill-seeker, so I can’t tell.
Moving away from my door, I fish my phone out of my pocket and unlock it.
My thumbs fly over my keyboard as I type out a message to my best friend, hoping like hell she’s still awake and not passed out after going out with some of her work friends.
Me:SOS! Trapped in a cabin with three insanely hot older men! Send help.
I wait…and wait…no response.
Of course.
Mallory’s probably asleep like I suspected or deep in another Netflix binge.
I toss the phone on the nightstand and flop down onto the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and pressing my face down into it to groan loudly.
Through the door, I can hear their laughter filtering down the hell, low and warm, mixed with the popping of beer bottles and the faint notes of some classic rock song playing softly.
