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They continued onward, feeding the tree into my apartment foot by foot. It seemed like it would never end! The air — previously filled with the heady scent of chicken cutlet and tomato sauce — was now pregnant with the wonderful fragrance of pine needles that I always associated with Christmas.
“Where do you want it?” Valerio asked, smirking like he couldn’t wait to get the line out.
“The corner over there,” I pointed. “I already laid out a tree skirt.”
He pushed on, dragging the tree even further. He wore tight black jeans and a hot red shirt that peeked out beneath his leather jacket. I was checking him out from the rear as he passed by, when suddenly:
“Hey beautiful.”
I whirled in surprise and saw Kade, holding up the back end of the tree. With a mighty flex of his two big arms he pulled the last part inside, then kicked the door shut behind him with the toe of his boot. He smiled at me as he lumbered past, a dark-haired giant with a chiseled, square-set jaw.
“Hope you don’t mind that we brought him,” Brock called back from the other side of the loft. “He insisted though. Especially once he found out there was food involved.”
“No, not at all,” I grinned back. “The more the merrier.”
“Good,” Valerio grunted. “Besides, this is a big job. And it’s gonna take—”
He grunted again as the three of them lifted the tree into place. It went up like a skyscraper, falling in reverse. For a split second I worried it would actually scrape the ceiling, but then it stopped, leaving me a good foot and half to put my grandmother’s star.
“Oh my GOD that looks amazing!” I cried.
“Sure does,” Brock smiled, wiping his hands together. “But just wait till’ she’s done.”
To my surprise they filed through the doorway, leaving only the noise of their boots on the stairs. They returned about two minutes later, carrying all manner of colorful boxes and three giant spools of lights.
“You brought meornaments?” I gasped.
“Well didn’t you say yours were gone?” asked Valerio.
“Yes, but—”
“Then problem solved,” said Kade, setting down a stack of blue-and-white bulbs that were frosted with glitter. I saw red ones and green ones, all shiny and beautiful. Acrylic ornaments shaped like snowflakes and icicles, meant to hang off the tips of the branches, too.
“But… you guys didn’t have to…”
My sentence died at the lump in my throat. I was all choked up. They’d gone above and beyond, even upgrading my tree-stand with a heavier duty model that was already fixed to the trunk when they dragged it inside.
“We can decorate it after dinner,” said Brock. “If you’re up for it, that is.”
I blinked back at him, totally in shock. But the smile on my face said everything.
“Really? I— I’dlovethat.”
“Great,” he grinned back, sweeping an errant blond lock away from his eyes. “Only two things left to do then.”
He looked even more incredible than earlier, dressed impeccably in tight black jeans and black leather boots. Up top his outfit accentuated every muscle, every curve, from the twin bulbs of his broad shoulders to the biceps and triceps yearning to break free of his too-tight shirt.
“And what would that be?” I asked.
“Tell us where we can wash up, and let’s eat!”
Eight
SLOANE
Dinner was almost disappointingly simple: chicken Parmesan with Italian bread. It was something everybody in the world loved to eat, and as far as I was concerned you really couldn’t screw it up too badly.
Hunched over my kitchen table, the guys devoured it so ravenously I couldn’t even tell whether they liked it or not. They ate my food and drank the beer I’d provided, all while laughing and chiding each other and marveling over the size of my apartment. But it wasn’t until we’d finished and I finally showed them my studio, that theyreallywent crazy.
