Page 61 of Daddies' Holiday Toy

He’s so focused he doesn’t notice me.

Every few steps, he stops, squints down at the screen, mutters something low under his breath, then starts pacing again.

What the fuck?

It’s like he’s convinced that if he findsexactlythe right spot, the clouds will part, a beam of heavenly light will hit him, and the cell service gods will descend with four glorious bars of 5G.

“You lose something out there,” I call, “or are you trying to map the property line?”

He doesn’t even break stride. “Looking for a signal.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” I answer, shoving my hands into my pockets and take the steps down toward him. “Question is…why? Thought you were all about ditching the tech and ‘being one with the woods’ this weekend.”

That earns me the briefest glance, just enough for him to register my presence before he stepsaroundme and heads closer toward where the cars are still half-buried.

His boots crunch through the ice-crusted top layer of snow.

“It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh. So you’ve been out here pacing in circles for fifteen minutes for fun?” I follow him, a few paces behind, my tone tilting toward the dry side of sarcastic.

The little muscle in his jaw twitches. “Reece, mind your business.”

That catches me off guard.

Not so much the words exactly, but the bite behind them. “Well, fuck me for trying to have a conversation.”

His arm drops from the air, the other hand raking through his hair in one frustrated sweep, pushing it back from his face.

There’s no hiding the irritation flashing in his eyes, though he tries. “I’m not in the mood for this. I’m just trying to connect to the internet for something.”

“For what?”

That question gets me the full force of his glare once again. “Didn’t I just say to drop it?”

My gut twists.

This isn’t just him being pissy because he’s in a bad mood.

I’ve been around Liam long enough to know the difference.

This is him hiding something, and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s the feeling of something happening right under my nose.

“Liam,” I press.

His lips flatten. “I said mind your fucking business, Reece.”

That’s enough to spike my temper, and I’m halfway to firing something back when the door bangs open behind us, loud enough to startle a crow from a nearby tree.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Jack’s voice cuts across the space as he takes the steps down two at a time, one hand braced on the railing while his eyes flick between us.

He doesn’t look happy. “Sounds like you two are about to kill each other.”

“Just a conversation,” I say, lifting a shoulder, trying to smooth things over. Despite Liam pissing me off, I’m not about to throw him under the bus just yet.

Jack’s expression tells me he’s not buying any of it. “Well, keep it down. Or better yet, take it down the road before you wake Holly. She’s taking a nap, and I’d rather not wake her up when she’s been the one feeding us all for the past two days.”

Liam shifts his weight and shoves his phone into his pocket, trying to bury the evidence before it’s brought up again.