Page 76 of Daddies' Holiday Toy

“Just got a text from my buddy in town,” Reece calls. “Roads are being cleared. Carson should be coming up soon.”

My eyes widen, and I see the same reaction in Jack instantly mimic me.

We both go still, like prey that’s just heard a hunter on the prowl.

Whatever fragile space we’d been in a second ago is long gone now.

19

JACK

The living room smells like sex.

There’s no polite way to put it, no matter how hard Liam and Reece try to mask it with the sharp citrus cleaner they’re swiping over the coffee table.

It’s in the air, clinging to the couch cushions, seeping into the carpet under it.

I can still hear it if I let myself keep thinking of Holly’s breathless little gasps, the low sound she made right before she came, the way her back arched when?—

I cut the thought off before it runs wild.

Doesn’t do me any favors.

I shouldn’t have been watching in the first place. Hell, I shouldn’t have even allowed them to cross that line with her.

But I didn’t move.

I sat there like a goddamn statue, torn between telling them to stop and…well.

Now they’re moving quickly, cleaning up like two teenage boys whose parents are about to walk in the door any second.

Liam’s tossing the throw blanket back over the couch like that’s gonna hide anything.

Reece is spraying down the coffee table for the third time and then turning to spritz the couch with it for good measure.

Neither of them can look me in the eye for long.

Only the sound of Holly rummaging around in the kitchen cuts through the awkward silence that’s settled over all of us.

I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, not saying a word.

This is their mess to clean up. I’m not lifting a damn finger.

My head’s buzzing with too many thoughts anyway.

About Carson, about Holly.

How the fuck are we going to keep this under wraps?

If Carson ever got a whiff of what happened in here, he’d kill all three of us without hesitation.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, a short, sharp pulse. I pull it out and glance at the screen.

Carson:Plows are moving. Should be up your way soon. I’ll be right behind them. We can salvage the rest of our weekend.

My stomach drops.

Shit. Time’s up.