Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 115(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
I never saw my mother this happy with my Dad growing up. Even during the best times.
We chat for a bit and I tell them all about my travels and the weird jobs I was working. Mom doesn’t seem mad or upset anymore. I think we’re both just relieved that we’re finally putting this long lonely stretch of time behind us.
They let me unpack in my room—a gorgeous bedroom in Brandon’s log cabin with my own bathroom and walk-out balcony—and then I take a long hot shower to wash that disgusting airplane smell off me.
I’m feeling much better and more relaxed as I head into the open kitchen to find Christmas cookies set up on the table with piped icing, a pot of coffee brewing, a fire in the living room fireplace, and my favorite Christmas song playing over the speakers—Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You.
“I missed this,” I say as I slide into a chair and look at all of the delicious-looking gingerbread cookies in front of me.
My mother comes over, hugs my shoulders, and kisses the top of my damp blonde hair. “Me too.”
“That must be August with the Christmas tree,” Mom says when the front door opens. Her and Brandon rush into the entrance as I stay at the table with butterflies in my stomach.
Is he going to be mad at me for all the drama I caused? Is he going to hate me for missing the wedding?
I grab the stuffed piping bag of white icing and try to focus on decorating a gingerbread cookie in the shape of an angel, but I’m too on edge to make straight lines.
“I set up the tree stand by the fireplace,” Mom says as she hurries into the living room.
August and Brandon follow her in. August’s face is hidden by the enormous tree as he carries it over his shoulder. He’s so tall. Brandon is pretty tall too, but August has to be at least half a foot taller than him.
It’s a massive Christmas tree and he’s carrying it with ease. Even with that black winter jacket on, I can tell he’s got a large muscular frame. My stepbrother is jacked.
My eyes follow him as he walks over to the corner of the living room where the tree stand is set up.
“I got it,” Brandon says as he grabs the trunk and helps guide it into the stand.
My eyes are locked on my new stepbrother as they push the tree up and secure it. From behind, he’s gorgeous. A big strong back, broad shoulders, and a firm ass that looks deadly in those faded jeans.
Stepbrother, Harmony. He’s your freaking stepbrother.
When the tree is secure, he releases it and starts to unwind his scarf. I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s… He’s… He’s way too hot to be my stepbrother.
He still hasn’t noticed me at the table. Probably because I’m completely motionless, clutching the piping bag with a clenched fist while gawking at him.
My breath hitches as he unzips his jacket and peels it off his hard body. He’s wearing a light blue sweater underneath that looks tantalizingly soft. Probably Merino wool. It’s molding to his big round shoulders and muscular arms. My fingertips tingle with the desire to stroke it.
“Honey, you’re dripping icing all over the floor.”
He pulls his winter hat off and runs his hand through his messy brown hair. I’m staring at him, but only getting quick glimpses of his face from the side… I need to see if his face is as gorgeous as the rest of him…
“Harmony!” Mom shouts, yanking me out of my fixated stupor. “The dog!”
I gasp when I realize what I’m doing. I’m holding the piping bag over Lucy and it’s leaking all over the poor dog’s head.
Her tongue is whipping around, desperately trying to reach the icing that I dripped all over her head and snout.
“Sorry!” I say as I practically throw the piping bag on the table.
My cheeks burn as my eyes dart back to August.
Our eyes meet and an excited little thrill ripples through my body.
Those light brown eyes… They’re stunning.
He’s staring at me with such intensity as Mom rushes over with a roll of paper towels. She yanks off a wad and starts wrestling with the dog, trying to wipe the icing off her face.
I kneel down to help her, but my eyes keep darting over to my new stepbrother. He never takes his intense brown eyes off me, staring at me like he might never look away.
Lucy finally breaks free and runs upstairs to lick the icing off her head in peace.
“Fine,” my mother says with a huff as she watches the dog escape around the corner. “Eat it for all I care.”
She tosses the paper towels onto the table and then her whole face lights up when she sees the tree standing up straight.