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Finally, they arrived at the door, but in her attempt not to drown in the scent of their cologne, she stepped further into the mudroom.
That was her first mistake. No, that was her only mistake.
Everything around her seemed to disappear from her vision except them. No, it was more than that. Time itself stood still.
The only sound was her heart pounding as if she had trapped a thousand inebriated elephants in her chest, and now they thought they could dance.
Holy Elephantidae.
She couldn’t breathe.
Their closeness consumed her.
And they weren’t moving away from the door. Blast upon blast of icy cold wind slapped her in the face as they blocked the door. Her only exit to safety.
She remembered that there was still a chance they didn’t know it was her, and they just needed some nudging from her to move out of the way. Maybe they were just unsure. Maybe they were taking in the coziness of the cabin itself. The smell of the fire and pines and evergreens, cinnamons, and spices from freshly baked cookies wafted toward them before the Christmassy aromas drifted out into the cold.
Injecting some manly swagger to her walk, she mumbled anexcuse meand the wordluggageas she reached them.
But still, they didn’t move.
She just added deranged hyenas to the drunken party in her chest when Aaron smoothly shut the door behind him with his foot, sealing them all four inside the mud room of theChristmas away from Christmas Cabin where the internet and cell service are nonexistent because we believe in family bonding with words and hugs—words literally taken from their website.
"Err," Andrea said, deepening her voice even more.
But panic had already started to soar inside her. She quickly envisioned a forceful getaway. They were so tall, she could just drop to her knees and worm her way between their legs and out of the door, then into the limo, before they could say Andrea Dawson.
These were desperate times and required fantastically crazy measures.
Right. Drop to her knees and—
But before she could finish the rundown of her game plan in her head, her whole world turned upside down when Micah closed the gap between him and her, bent his tall frame, wrapped one arm around her knees, lifted her, and tossed her over his shoulder.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no.
Why would Micah do that to a chauffeur called Percival? Because they knew she wasn’t a chauffeur called Percival.
Crapsticks.
Chapter Five
Double crapsticks.
Andrea slipped out of character, and by the time she realized it, she had already asked Micah if he was crazy, if they were all crazy since they seemed to be just following him as if it were totally normal to have her thrown over Micah’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ordered him to put her down, and banged her fist on his butt—oh god.
By the time he put her down, they were in the living room, where a fire crackled pleasantly and cocooned the space in an intimate haze of warmth.
She opened her mouth to speak, then promptly sealed her lips again. There was a chance she didn’t give herself away completely yet. She had to believe that. Instead, she straightened the oversized jacket, then realized she had lost her cap, and a bit of her bun had come undone.
That deserved a full-fledgedfuck.
Well, at least she still had her mustache, but it wasn’t going to be much help, not when they started to remove their coats and suit jackets.
Oh boy. Ohboy.
“Want to tell us what’s going on, Andrea?” Leo asked as he folded the sleeves of his shirt. Aaron and Micah were doing the same, and she swallowed a huge boulder of panic as her gaze drifted over their powerful forearms. Her body heated up, and the silk g-string she wore under the suit became freshly drenched with wetness.
She forced herself to think about CourtneyFreakingWatson, and the instant the image of her personal nemesis, the personification of her misery, appeared in her head, she was no longer awed, and her body had begun its descent to normalcy.
