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“I’ll grab the bags,” Lexi said as I popped the trunk. “You work on figuring out those digital locks.” I rolled my eyes and nodded.
Three years ago, the owner switched from running the rental themselves to doing it through Airbnb. Along with the switch came an upgrade to the entry—a smart lock. You had to hold your phone up to it to get it to let you inside. I wondered how that was going to work with such a bad signal, but when I got the app up and running, it worked like a charm.
“That wasn’t so bad,” I said to Lex as she climbed the steps and handed me my stuff. “Can’t wait to see technologically illiterate Dean try to figure this out.”
Lex laughed and shook her head. “How does someone who repels tech so hard have a job working with it?”
“I have no idea, and I’m not about to ask. What a snooze fest.”
We pushed open the door and walked inside, our noses instantly filled with the scent of Christmas. When we booked online, it had asked if there were any particular holiday extras we would need, and I didn’t even wait a minute before asking it be decked in Christmas garb. They had really done a great job. There was even a real Christmas tree.
“It’s so cute,” Lexi said, admiring some of the decor. “They have great taste.”
“They really do,” I agreed. “Now, let's grab bedrooms before the men get here or we will inevitably be relegated to whatever they don’t want.”
“You don’t really think they would do that, do you?”
“Oh yeah,” I insisted, knowing my brother. “Are you willing to risk getting the room with bunkbeds?”
Lexi’s eyes went wide and she dashed down the tiny hallway.
“Dibs on the room to the left,” I shouted, and she slid past the master bedroom taking the very next one.
I was relieved to see that the bedroom looked exactly like I’d remembered. Worn but clean beige carpeting, stone tile leading to the ensuite. On the far side of the room there was a picture window with a reading nook, something I used to spend hours in when I was a kid.
I could imagine my parents sitting in this bed, wrapping presents, Dean and I trying to steal a peek at them from the doorway. I could remember the one Christmas that Dean cracked open his head from tripping and hitting it on the bedside table. This place was as much home to me as the house my parents had lived in.
I heard the front door click, beep twice, and open. My dear older brother had arrived.
“Hello?” I heard him call from the entrance. There was then some mumbling noise and a deep voice laughed. “I saw your car, nerd, I know you’re here already, and I swear if you took the master—”
“You mean this master?” I said, poking my head around the door frame.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean said, laughing. “I told you she would do that. It's the reading nook, that’s all she cares about.”
“No, it’s not,” I said in mock insult. “It’s the reading nookandthe new mattress.”
It was then that Dean’s friend caught my eye. He looked every bit the finance manager Dean said he was. But somehow my brother had failed to mention that his work friend was absolutely gorgeous. I could feel myself drooling already.
He couldn’t have been shorter than six feet, and he had this wavy dark hair that defied gravity in its shape. His eyes, which he had just revealed after pulling off a pair of Oakley’s, were this crazy gray-blue color, and when he looked at me, I swore I could see into his soul.
It was also clear that this “friend” went to the gym… like, a lot. The way his shirt fit on his frame was no joke. It was tight without being too small, and the jeans he’d paired with it gave me a pretty good idea of how many squats this man was doing.
“Dean,” he said, looking from me to my brother. “What is this? When you said rustic, I thought you meant something high-tech with a woodsy feel. This cabin isbarelygood enough for a Boy Scout troop.”
Attractive money man saidwhat?
“Come on, dude,” Dean said, looking around. “It will be fun. Better than spending Christmas alone.”
“Is it?” he asked.
Dean patted him on the back, seemingly unbothered.
I looked on in horror as this man insulted my nostalgia and spoiled this moment with his presence.
“Dean,” I said in my calmest voice possible. “Can I speak with you in the bedroom, please?” I gave him a sisterly smile that he would know meant I wasn’t pleased. He rolled his eyes and followed me in, closing the door behind him.
“Are you kidding me, Dean?” I asked, gesturing through the door to where tall, dark and sour was standing.
