Page 70 of Our First Christmas


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Stop it, Abigail.

There’s really only one way to take my mind off the images flashing through my brain.

“You have shit taste in music, Prince.” Insults are my go-to. When we’re fighting, I’m too annoyed to feel my intense attraction for him. I change the radio station from the slow jam song to something a little more upbeat. “What are you, my eight-nine-year-old grandpa? That shit is boring.”

He rolls his eyes. “Actually, Red, it’s relaxing. I get enough loud music on the nights I’m at the club. When I’m driving, I enjoy relaxing music, softly playing in the background, which I can form coherent thoughts around.”

He moves to change the station, and I slap his hand away.

“Hey, no assaulting the driver while the car is in motion,” he complains, shaking out his hand.

“Oh, please, you wuss. That was hardly even a tap. Besides, I told you, I get to pick the music, and grandpa music isn’t it.” I change it again to a ninety’s country station. There, much better. I sit back triumphantly in my seat and ignore Jackson’s pout.

It really is a beautiful drive once you get out of the city and look around at the lush greenery. Everything looks so fresh with a light dusting of snow that reminds me of gentle cotton covering the ground. No nasty grey patches out here like you see next to the road in the city.

When we pull up to the cabin, all I can think is,wow. I don’t know why I was picturing a little cabin by the lake nestled in the woods. This is a damn sprawling estate. My fears of being stuck in a small space with Jackson for a few days have been assuaged. Shit, by the looks of it, I’ll be able to successfully avoid him in the house during my entire stay if I want.

“Are you planning on helping me with your twenty-seven bags, or are you just going to stand there gazing at the cabin?” I hear the Prince of Darkness say from behind me as he walks around to open the trunk.

“First off, it’s three, not twenty-seven. Stop with the dramatics. Second, you guys need to stop calling it a cabin. That conjures images of a cute little log cabin in the woods. This,”—I wave my hands toward the mini-mansion—“is the exact opposite of that.”

“Red, you should know by now there’s nothing small about anything Hayes-related,” Jackson smirks.

Cheeky asshole.

Everyone piles out of Donovan’s car as Jackson hoists the bags from his trunk. Lindsey and Kasey come over to me with wide, excited smiles, and their good mood is infectious, even after spending an hour in the car with the Son of Satan.

“Damn girl,” I exclaim to Kasey. “You’ve been holding out on us.” I look at the house again, and she smiles sweetly.

“I thought the same thing when I came here the first time. If you think this is impressive, wait until you see the inside. It’s massive and beautiful. Susan did an amazing job decorating, and nothing has changed since the guys were kids.”

Kasey grabs Lindsey and me by the hand and drags us up the front steps and through the front door into the rustic foyer. My family is well off, but the Hayes family is on a whole other level. I look around the massive space. The large kitchen overlooks the living room, where a huge fireplace with brick work stretches to the high ceilings, and large dark wood beams run through the room. Even though the space is enormous, it has a homey feel that’s only achieved through someone loving the place and wanting it to be where they can relax with their friends and family. Mrs. Hayes outdid herself, as usual.

“Kasey, show me to my room. I’m utterly spent.” I throw my hand over my forehead and feign exhaustion.

“I don’t know why you’re tired. All you did was harass me about my music choices. I’m the one who had to lug your bags in the house,” Jackson calls from the foyer.

I roll my eyes as Kasey and Lindsey laugh.

“Come on, I’ll take you up, and you and Lindsey can duke it out over the rooms,” Kasey says, leading us toward the staircase.

Lindsey and I peek into each room, and the one at the end of the hall is perfect. It’s decorated with a giant four-poster bed with simple white bedding and splashes of dusty pink throughout, and French doors lead out to a small terrace covered in snow. The en suite bathroom looks fit for a queen with a giant clawfoot tub and fluffy towels stacked in a large oak armoire. I love it.

“This one’s mine. Finders keepers,” I call from the bathroom.

“That’s fine. I think Aiden found the room he likes,” she yells back. I hear Lindsey laugh and a distinctly male growl from down the hall.

“I like any room with a bed and you in it, Sunshine.”

A door slams, then giggles come from the room. Ah, young love. I’m so happy for my sister from another mister. She found her growly bodyguard, and he found peace with the love of his life.

Jackson makes his way to me, carrying one of my bags over his shoulder while rolling the other two.

“Here,” he says as he leaves the bags just inside the door to my room.

“Thank you, Jeeves,” I say in a haughty British accent.

“I’m not your man servant, Red, but if you need anything in the middle of the night…” He shoots me a suggestive wink, “I’m right across the hall,” he says as he opens the door directly across from mine.

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