Page 98 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
“Of course not,” Collin said seriously. “Jace was the one who earned the blue balls this Christmas. Dr. Aster’s was a little bit more unique.”
“You realize John and his wife both share an office, right? What did Mickie do to deserve this?” Spencer asked with a laugh.
“Of course, I know that. I’m there every day of my life,” Collin said. “Why do you think I nailed his ass like I did?”
“Well? What did you see?” I asked Sebastian, hoping he would tell me what their patients’ reactions were likely to be to Collin’s bullshit, rather than have Collin explain it.
“Well, you know how John and Mickie’s OB office usually looks like something out of a Pottery Barn ad? All white garland and tasteful gold bows?”
“Right…” I said.
“Well, it now has a life-sized Elf on the Shelf, dressed in scrubs and motion-activated, that says,‘Sugar and Spice and Naughty or Nice, That’s What Seasonal Babies are all About.’”
“Holy fuck,” Jake nearly spat out his scotch.
“The hell iswrongwith you, dude?” I questioned Collin. “Do you realize that some might take offense to this?”
“Chill out, Grandpa,” Collin said. “I gave instructions to the admins at the front desk to shut the damn thing off when patients who might take offense dare to enter their office.”
“And how would they know? They’re not mind readers,” I questioned.
“They don’t have to be. They only turn it on for John, anyway, and of course, they had to have that elf doing its job when bigbrother Sebastian showed up,” he chuckled. “I’m impressed by the OB staff for playing along with my little prank.”
I stared at Collin, amused with the man, and still trying to figure out how he got away with this nonsense without an HR complaint slapped on his ass.
“You seem to be at a loss for words, big guy,” Spence cut in with a laugh.
“How thehellam I the one trending all over the fucking place this Christmas, but this practical joking dipshit isn’t?” I asked the group.
“Because I know how to keep it under the radar, Jimbo,” Collin said with a smirk. “Trust me, if you had followed my advice about your fake argument with Avery earlier, you wouldn’t have ended up trending as a lonely bachelor the morning after poker night,” he laughed with the group.
We continued to joke about Collin’s ridiculous pranks, which I still couldn’t fathom how he managed to pull off, and then I glanced toward the main entrance and saw Avery arriving with some of the wives. Nearby, the kids were being watched by hired staff dressed as elves, keeping them entertained in the village while the adults enjoyed champagne and the freedom to follow their own desires.
When Avery walked in, every conversation seemed to fade, replaced by that collective hum that always arises when perfection enters a room.
All the wives were stunning, but Avery stood out in a way that made my heart seize. She was beyond radiant with hair gleaming under the light, her white-and-gold gown making her look like every wish I’d ever made come to life. The other wives and her friends flanked her, each carrying that same spark of joy I’d built this entire night for.
Jake followed my gaze and whistled. “Damn. No wonder you built Narnia. I’m most definitely getting laid tonight. Ash’ssmile is contagious,” he said, his eyes only on his bride after the women walked into the room and stole their husbands’ hearts all over again.
“Easy, buddy,” Spencer warned, smirking. “I’m not drunk enough to hear about what you’re going to be doing two doors down from mine and Nat’s room.”
“Please,” Jake rolled his eyes. “Nat informs everyone about everything between you two. At least you’re not getting the details.”
“He’s not wrong,” Collin said with a laugh.
“Yeah, no need to act like Saint Christmas,” I chuckled, glancing at Spence, then back to Avery. I shook my head, hiding a smile. “And if we’re being honest, you’re all idiots.”
“Expensive idiots,” Sebastian said. “But still idiots.”
I had to take my mind off Avery’s beauty, or I wouldn’t make it through the night. So, I turned back to the men and leaned on the bar. “You do realize you’re standing in the middle of the most profitable tax write-off of the year, right?”
That shut them up for exactly three seconds before Collin snorted. “Only you would justify Christmas with a tax deduction. At least my seasonal décor comes from the heart.”
“Your shit comes from somewhere that most men believe is their hearts,” Spencer taunted.
“Jimmy’s comes from tax deductions, apparently,” my brother added.
“It’s merely semantics,” I muttered.
