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He was the most honest man she knew. She didn’t want to believe the photo meant anything more than two people of the opposite sex hugging. Just friends. But she’d been lied to before, and if she believed Nick and he wasn’t being truthful…
She honestly didn’t know if she could survive it.
So she’d run, and she’d deflected, and she’d avoided being alone with him for the last ten days since they’d had the most incredible weekend of her life. And now he had things in mind for her, and she’d say yes to them because she wanted to belong to him too—if only for a night—as much as she wanted to belong as part of this family Christmas. An unusual family made up of a very motley crew of band members, but a family just the same.
“Everyone’s about to open gifts,” he said when she just went back to her cleaning. It was safe, and falling into the swirling gold depths of his eyes was so…not.
“Okay, I’ll be right in as soon as I finish.”
“Shove over.” He didn’t give her time to protest, just hipchecked her over to the other basin of the double sink and grabbed a plate. He then proceeded to liberally douse it in about half a bottle of detergent, creating a mass of bubbles under the spray like she’d never seen. Not that he seemed to care. He just kept scrubbing and humming, scrubbing and humming. “We need some music in here. Or…” He slanted her a glance. “You could sing.”
“I don’t sing.”
“Yes, you do. Or you did, once. That day in my bedroom. I woke up and caught you.”
If he’d admitted to catching her touching herself, she wouldn’t have flushed any more. “It wasn’t really singing.”
“Yes, it was. It occurs to me that we’re both non-singers, so together, we’d almost make one.”
Her lips twitched. “Is that Nick logic?”
“It’s sensible. So c’mon, which Christmas carols do you know? ‘Silent Night’? ‘The First Noel’? ‘Jingle Balls’?”
Her laughter spilled out, and she couldn’t have stopped it if she tried. “You mean ‘Jingle Bells’?”
“No way. Simon always told me it was balls.”
“Simon lied to you.”
“Bastard,” Nick said under his breath, then when that wasn’t enough, he lifted his soapy hands out of the water, marched to the kitchen doorway and bellowed, “Simon, you suck.”
Lila had to grin. He was such an adorable jerk.
Simon appeared in the doorway with baby Lexi strapped to his chest in a pale pink snuggy. “You rang?”
“Yes, I rang. ‘Jingle Balls’, huh?” Nick crossed his arms. “You’re lucky you have that baby as armor or I’d shove your ass into next Tuesday.”
Simon smothered a laugh into Lexi’s cap of brown hair. “Sure you would, brother. You think Christmas has granted you superhero abilities?”
But Nick wouldn’t be deterred. “Why would you tell me balls if you knew it was bells?”
“Because everything goes better with balls,” Simon said simply.
Lila shook her head and returned to her scrubbing. “I may turn lesbian yet.”
Nick turned his back on Simon. “Ignore him. He’s had to develop a fondness for small, wrinkly things to keep his ego intact.”
She snorted and rinsed off a dish before stacking it with the others on the rack.
“Aw, look at you two being all domestic. So sweet.”
“Yeah, and look who has a baby strapped to his puny chest.” Nick cocked an eyebrow as he reached for the dish soap again. He squirted until only bubbles emerged from the bottle, then grunted. “Yo, Jazz,” he yelled. “We’re outta soap.”
Lila pressed a finger to her ear. “Can you not bellow every time?”
“I second that,” Jazz said, strolling in with a snuggy of her own. “The babies are sleeping. Besides, what do you mean we’re out of soap? I just put out a new bottle tonight.” She blinked at the bubbles floating everywhere, mostly down the drain. “Oh my God. What is your damage?”
“What?” Nick glanced between the two women, his frown growing as Lila smothered a chuckle into her shoulder. “I used soap. You want them clean, right?”
