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Gawd, this is horrible. Why the heck am I acting like this? I’m way too obvious with my blushing cheeks and trembling voice. I’m as subtle as a teenager who just ran into her biggest crush in the school hallway.
“The pleasure is mine, Harmony,” he says as those fierce brown eyes look me up and down.
I have to get away from this guy before my mom reads it all over my face. She was distracted with the dog, the tree, and then taking a picture, but she’s a sharp one. It will only be a matter of time before she realizes her daughter and her stepson are standing in the middle of the living room, eye-fucking each other.
I force my eyes away from August and head back to the table. “Do you like decorating cookies?” I ask as I slip back into my seat.
“I love cookies,” he says in a low voice, his eyes still on me as he walks over. “I bet your cookies aredelicious.”
I glance at our parents to see if they heard that, but they’re busy looking at the pictures my mom just took.
There’s obviously some attraction here, but at least I’m trying to be subtle. August is anything but.
It’s not like we can act on it anyway. There’s no waythat’sgoing to happen.
I mean, we’re family now.
And I’ve done enough damage to my mom’s side of the family. I’m trying to repair things, not douse my relationships in gasoline and throw a match.
I don’t care how hot August is or how hard my heart keeps beating whenever he looks at me like that. This is a fire I’mnotstarting.
We’re going to keep this platonic. We’re going to act like a normal brother and sister.
We’re going to begood.
I keep my eyes on my gingerbread angel as he sits across from me. I can feel his heated eyes running along my body. It’s making the tiny hairs on my arms rise, it’s making it hard to breathe, and it’s making it nearly impossible to decorate this damn cookie properly.
“I’ll put some more coffee on,” Mom says. “And we can all get to know each other properly.”
Brandon grabs the coffee filters out of the cupboard to help her.
“How do you take your coffee, August?” she asks.
“Extremely hot,” he says, and then he whispers under his breath, “just like my stepsister.”
I swallow hard as I force my eyes up to glare at him.
He grins. I hate that it’s such a sexy sight.
“Stepsister,” I whisper, giving him a warning look. “We’re related now by the way.”
He lifts his eyebrow and gives me a carefree shrug before picking up a cookie and a piping bag.
It feels like we’re about to play a dangerous game.
A game that can ruin Christmas.
Or, make it the best one yet…
ChapterThree
August
“Iwant to hear more about this trip to Australia,” Dad says as he sits at the table with my new stepmother, Megan. We’re all drinking coffee and decorating the Christmas-shaped gingerbread cookies. The fire is burning in the fireplace while Bing Crosby sings about a winter wonderland over the speakers.
It looks so wholesome on the surface.
It could be our family Christmas card.
