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My mouth opens but nothing comes out.
I try again. Shit, still nothing.
As my mind whirls for an answer to Keen’s question, Will lets out a high-pitched screech. “Oh my God, Peppa. No. No, don’t lick that!” She tries shooing our dog away from her foot.
“Shit!” I spring into action, scooping Peppa under my arm. “Will, go through the back door, then outside and round the front. Keen, buddy, I thought you were playing on your Xbox while I tidied the kitchen?”
Will shuffles past me, opening the French doors to sneak out of the kitchen and reenter the house so she can come downstairs again freshly showered. It’s a move we know all too well from doing many times as teenagers when we weren’t allowed to be alone in the same room.
“I heard a funny noise”—my eyebrows shoot up at his admission—“and my batteries died in my controller.” He holds up the controller in one hand. “So I went into your room and found some.” I nod in understanding, barely listening to my son’s ramblings as my erratic breathing regulates once again. Casting my eyes around the kitchen, I realize what a close call we had. We need to try and contain this shit to the bedroom when we’re expecting visitors. “And I found this. What is it? A microphone?” My eyes latch on to the toy Keen is waving in his hand like a prized trophy. “I wanna try it.” He searches for the button, the one I know to be on the base, and my mouth drops at the realization it’s not a damn microphone.
Holy shit, it’s Will’s vibrating wand.
“Buddy, that’s not a microphone.” I snatch it from his hand and try to bury the hurt look on his face.
“Then what is it?”
As the kitchen door opens with my ma approaching, I stuff the wand into a kitchen drawer. “It’s a...” My words hang in the air as my brain scrambles to find a suitable function for the device.
“A what?” Keen steps forward, and I slam the drawer shut and step in front of it, my heart hammering in my chest.
“A whisk, buddy. It’s a whisk.”
“What’s the big surprise?” my ma asks as she opens the door, and her eyes take in the carnage, and I wince.
“Nana!” Keen rushes toward her. “Santa is coming tonight!”
“He sure is!”
I step toward my ma, bending to place a kiss on her cheek. “Oh, Con. Come here! You have frosting on your cheek!” I rear back from her, eyes wide, her touch making me recoil in horror.
Dropping my head, I mumble, “Ma, it’s fine. I need to shower.” I make a quick exit, sighing in relief as I head upstairs to wash the cum from my face, but knowing this will be the best Christmas ever, I bounce with each step I take.
Will
Stepping out into the freezing snow, I’m not sure where my husband’s head was at with practically pushing me out the damn door in only his thin T-shirt. The snow-covered ground leaves my feet numb as I walk around the covered patio table and head to the front door where I can sneak inside, take a quick shower to wash off Con’s cum, and head downstairs like nothing has happened before all our guests arrive.
My body shivers as I weave through the labyrinth of covered garden furniture.Jeez, it’s cold.
Quickening my pace, my feet slide across the snow, and then I trip on something wrapped around my feet, but luckily, I stay upright, grasping onto the wall to stabilize myself. My heart hammers.Oh, God, that could have been disastrous.Anger floods me. Con is such a fucking idiot sometimes! I can’t believe he told me to come out here while he greets his ma in the warmth of our home. The poor woman has witnessed Bren having his dick out enough times, and if anything was going to kill her off, it would be that monster he packs. I roll my eyes, then glare at the offending item that caused me to almost have what could have been a very nightmarish Christmas.
Of course, it had to be one of his goddamn Christmas light cables. The moment Cal put up decorations outside his house, Con took extreme Christmas planning to whole other level. He wasn’t even happy with the designer that came out and practically reconstructed our home to create what Con envisaged as the North Pole on steroids, complete with a damn toy workshop the kids are convinced has real elves working in there at night.
Nope, he went “rogue,” as Oscar called it, creating a “catastrophic fire hazard” when he did a safety assessment before deciding whether he and his family would join us for Christmas or not. I’m sure it took Paige a lot of weird sex and the promise of another baby for him to change his reluctant mind.
I glare at the crisscrossed cables at my feet. How fucking ridiculous; he can never be happy, he always wants to go further, better. My jaw clenches. This stupid idea of his could have caused an accident. “Well, not today, motherfucker!” I tug on the wires with all my strength and grimace when the Christmas lights around me flicker.
I smirk down at the loose cable with triumph, and with a bit of luck, nobody will notice. Or when they do, hopefully Con will be far too enthralled in Christmas to care. I throw the cable to the side of the house and unlatch the gate, but as I’m about to step through it, a dark shadow makes me jump, and my hand flies toward my chest. It takes a moment for my eyes to register who it is. David, one of our security team, glares down at me and places his arm on the wall, stopping my movements. His eyes roam over my body, and I take a step back.
Not the first time I have felt uncomfortable at his blatant perusal of me, and when his eyes lock onto my bump, I fight to cover myself, using my arms as a form of defense. Ew, the man has no morals.
He clears his throat. “What are you doing out here?” His dark eyes lift toward mine, and he licks his lips, then my stomach rolls.
Yep, he will have to go.
I fake a smile and refuse to give him the details, especially eager to get inside before frostbite sets in. “I locked myself out.”
Silence.
