We all turn to look at her. Travis jumps up to pull her into a hug. She laughs before pushing him back.
“I must smell awful. We’ve been without hot water for ages. Let me go see what I can do in the bathroom. Oh, I let Reacher out,” she says to me as she walks to the bathroom.
“She’s even more gorgeous in person,” Trace points out.
“Right?” Travis agrees. He tilts his head at me when a growl slips up from my chest.
“Did you have breakfast?” I ask. I stand and move to the pantry trying to divert my attention away from my brother and his boyfriend’s conjecture of what Harmony and I have been up to.
They could also take a break from pointing out how beautiful she is. Not that I’m territorial or anything. Yeah, I know. If I can’t handle that, how would I ever handle the crowds who all want a piece of her on tour?
“Oh, we brought so much food,” Trace announces, jumping up. “It’s all in these amazing coolers in the back of the truck. We weren’t sure how much food you’d have, so we brought Christmas dinner. Come help me bring it in, Trav.” He takes Travis’s hand and pulls him up from the chair. “We even brought breakfast.”
“Where did they go?” Harmony asks, stepping back into the kitchen. I hand her a cup of coffee fixed just the way she likes it—very little coffee, a lot of cream and sugar.
“I think they brought half of Austin with them.” Taking her free hand, I lead her to the living room window. Outside, Travis and Trace are loading their arms with containers of food. Harmony rushes over to open the door when they head in with their first load.
“There’s more,” Travis announces happily. We watch as they return outside for another load.
If I was nice, I’d help. I’m not that nice. I also believe that by the time I got my boots on, they’d have it unloaded. Besides, I’ll have to go outside this evening to feed the horses. One trip into the arctic weather seems like enough.
“Presents!” Travis says, walking back inside. He stops at the tree and unloads his arms. “Hey, nice tree. It’s been ages since you’ve had one of these.” He steps back and appraises it. “This was your doing, wasn’t it?” He turns to look at Harmony.
“Beau helped,” she answers. His eyebrows raise high enough to hit the ceiling.
“What?” I snarl.
“Please tell me you made him cut out the snowflakes.”
“He did! The good ones are his. He also helped with the garland. And he chopped it down.” She beams over at me making my heart miss a beat. “We even rode to the neighbors to borrow lights. I wish you could see them, they’re so pretty.”
Travis looks over at me with his mouth opened dramatically in shock. I roll my eyes, but it doesn’t feel so bad having her brag on me.
None of it really took much effort. It was all worth it though seeing how happy it makes her. It makes me wish I had made more effort for my brother over the last couple of years. Even grown, he deserves more from me.
“Well, I think you both did an outstanding job,” Trace adds from the kitchen doorway.
“Thank you, Trace. At least someone is appreciative,” I say.
“I’m appreciative,” Travis argues. “Just totally shocked is all.”
“Speaking of shocked,” Trace continues. “Is the ham in the fridge for dinner? We brought a turkey, sides and dessert.”
“Yeah, I bought a smoked one before the snowstorm since y’all were coming this year.”
“Mind if I start working on it?”
“Knock yourself out.” Did I mention my brother had the good sense to date a chef from one of Austin’s most popular restaurants. The man can cook rings around anyone I’ve ever met. He’ll take that ham and turn it into something worthy of a Michelin star.
“Can I help?” Harmony asks.
“Absolutely, and I’ll bring a lovely piece of German stollen out to the both of you in a moment. Come, love.” I watch as they disappear into the kitchen. Travis moves to the couch and begins folding it up. Reacher wanders in while we wrestle with sliding the cushions back into place. We’re presented with breakfast and top offs of our coffee as soon as we sit down.
“How are you doing?” Travis asks the minute they return to the kitchen. “Like, really?” He turns toward me pulling his leg onto his opposite knee.
“Travis,” I warn.
“I know, I know. Don’t ask too many questions about Beau’s private life. Don’t act like I worry about him way out here. Don’t question his life choices. What am I missing?” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You know what sucks about that? I have to be an open book. You’re the only one that gets to hide away.”
