Page 20 of Daddies’ Holiday Toy (Kissmass Daddies #1)

HOLLY

I come out of my room still half in that heavy, post-nap fog.

Everything feels soft around the edges and not quite real, my body’s sluggish, limbs loose, not having quite caught up to my brain yet.

I rub at the corner of my eye with my knuckle, trying to blink myself fully awake.

The floor is cool under my bare feet, a faint shock each time my toes touch down on the wood.

I pause in the hallway, stretching my arms above my head until I hear my spine pop, waiting for the familiar hum of voices and the low rumble of the TV.

Strangely, I hear nothing.

It’s too quiet.

And not the good kind of quiet, either.

I pad down the hall, my steps automatically slower, moving toward something I’m not sure I want to find.

The living room is empty, the couch cushions still indented where someone had been sitting earlier.

No one in the kitchen either, just a half-drained coffee pot and a couple of mismatched mugs sitting on the counter like they were abandoned mid-conversation.

My shoulders tense.

I turn toward the front door, and that’s when I hear it: muffled voices seeping through the wood.

I can’t make out the words, but the tones are unmistakable.

Someone’s pissed.

Through the small pane of glass, I catch sight of the three of them standing in a tight knot just beyond the stairs.

Their heads are angled toward each other, bodies tense in that way you only get when you’re in the middle of an argument.

My hand finds the doorknob before I’ve even decided what I’m going to do, twisting it open.

The bitter cold blasts in immediately, wrapping around me like an icy hand.

The crunch of snow under my bare feet is painfully shocking, but I barely register it because the second I step into the doorway, all three of them turn toward me at once.

“What’s going on?”

Three different pairs of eyes, three different tells.

Jack’s hands might be hanging loose at his sides, but I can read the set of his shoulders as a flashing warning sign.

He’s coiled tight, every inch of him ready to spring from holding something in.

Reece is the opposite, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

His stance is restless, shifting from one foot to the other as if trying to work out an itch in his skin that he can’t quite get to.

He glances at Jack, then at Reece, then at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

And then there’s Liam.

He’s got that stillness he sometimes falls into, deciding whether or not to pounce.

His weight is balanced perfectly, feet braced in the snow with hands fisted at his sides.

His face is smoothed and would play well at a poker table, but his eyes are what give him away.

“Well?” I press, letting my gaze sweep over all three of them when no one jumps in to explain.

Jack clears his throat. “Nothing.”

The word’s said too fast, too practiced, already deciding on leaving me out before I even asked.

“Nothing?” I echo, not bothering to hide my disbelief.

Reece shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Yeah. It wasn’t all that serious.”

“Just a stupid argument that got a little heated. That’s all,” Liam jumps in after him.

I narrow my eyes. “If it’s stupid then why do you all look like you’ve just been caught?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I shift my weight, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning into one hip, the universal posture of someone calling bullshit.

My feet are burning from the cold, but I hardly care to step back into the warm house at this rate.

I want to know what the hell is going on.

“See, the thing is, people only say ‘it doesn’t matter’ when it actually does. And considering I could hear you all the way from down the hall, I’m gonna go ahead and say it matters.”

Jack’s lips flatten into a hard line.

Reece glances away, his gaze darting toward the firepit, giving him something to focus on other than me.

Liam swallows hard enough I can see the muscle in his throat work overtime.

My patience is gone. “Spit it out. All of you.”

“Holly—” Jack starts.

“No,” I cut him off. “Don’t ‘Holly’ me. Tell me. Right now.”

That’s when Reece says it.

“Did you actually sleep with Liam for money?”

For a heartbeat, my brain doesn’t even process what he’s just said because it’s too much for me to comprehend.

But then it lands.

And when it does, it’s like being punched in the face.

Heat floods my cheeks so fast it’s almost dizzying.

A rush of blood that carries equal parts fury and humiliation.

Anger at him, embarrassment for me, and underneath both is a sour, twisting ache in my stomach that feels a hell of a lot like feeling betrayed.

Because when my gaze darts to Liam he doesn’t meet it.

He doesn’t even try.

His eyes skitter away, fixing on some meaningless spot in the snow instead.

That avoidance is worse than if he’d just look me in the eye and own it. It makes it real.

It makes it mean he told them for some reason without discussing it with me first.

Why did he tell them?

Why would he throw that out there for them to pick apart and use against us both?

Was it to shut Jack up or win some petty argument?

Or was it just Liam acting carelessly?

My throat feels too tight to get anything substantial out, so all I manage is a breathless, “What?”

Reece’s voice is so soft I can barely hear it.

“He said you did it for money? Why would you do that?”

After that, no one moves.

No one even breathes.

It’s like the world has gone perfectly still except for the sound of my pulse hammering in my ears.

I can’t stand there another second.

The cold is biting at my bare feet, but the sting is nothing compared to the eyes on me.

I need out.

My feet move before I’ve even decided to go, spinning me in the snow.

Each step feels too loud, crunching in the sudden silence, but I don’t stop until I’ve stepped back over the doorway and make it back inside the cabin.

The blast of warmth hits me, but it doesn’t thaw the ice lodged in my chest.

God, what the fuck?

“Holly,” someone calls after me.

I hear the sound of boots on wood, the pounding of steps coming up the stairs after me.

I don’t bother turning around.

There’s no point.

It’s clear now that I’m already on trial here, already convicted for what happened with Liam, and no matter what I say, no matter how I try to explain it, the facts will still be the facts.

I got Liam off and in return he’s giving me money.

“Holly, wait.” It’s Jack.

Of course it’s Jack.

He catches up to me at the doorway, his hand curling around my arm just as I’m making a beeline down the hallway toward my room, to the one place I can shut a door between us and drown in my own thoughts without three pairs of eyes drilling into me.

But he stops me short, tugging me around to face him.

Behind his broad body, I catch sight of movement, both Liam and Reece stepping inside from the cold, too.

The blast of warm air from the cabin heater does nothing to thaw the tension rolling in after them.

“Save it,” I snap before Jack can even get the words out.

My hand comes up, pushing firmly against his chest.

My voice comes out colder than I expect, clipped at the edges.

“You know, it’s really something…the way you three feel entitled to stand around out there and discuss me like I’m some whore.”

Jack’s eyes narrow, his tone is measured. “No one’s saying that.”

I let out a breathless, humorless laugh that tastes bitter in my mouth.

“Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself. But for the record? Yeah, it was a transaction and I enjoyed it. So don’t stand here and twist it into some morality play where I’m the helpless little victim and you get to climb up on your high horse about it.”

My eyes burn before I even feel the tears gather.

I blink hard, quickly, refusing to let them fall.

If I cry now, it’s game over, I’ll lose whatever shred of control I’m still holding onto.

Jack exhales through his nose, and when he speaks again, his tone is softer.

“He never should’ve touched you.”

“Don’t.” I shake my head once. “Don’t do that. Don’t rewrite it to make it fit your narrative. It was two consenting adults making a deal. End of story.”

Jack’s jaw works for a moment, grinding down words before they can escape past his lips.

He steps closer, his hand lifting, not to grab this time but to rest on my shoulder.

“Sit down for a second. We all…should really talk.”

I want to argue, to tell him I’m done talking and done being cornered and picked apart like this, but the truth is, standing here like this feels way worse.

It’s suffocating, being the one put in trial.

So I let him guide me toward the couch.

His hand steady on my shoulder until I’m lowered into the cushions.

Only then does he take the chair across from me, settling in it and facing me fully.

“What’s really going on with you? Why do you need money that badly?”

I stare down at the carpet, tracing the worn fibers with my eyes so I don’t have to meet his.

“Holly,” he says again, reaching over to put a hand on my knee.

“Like I told Liam…my bakery isn’t doing well.” My fingers knot together in my lap, knuckles whitening as I keep talking. “I’ve been working my ass off for years, and I might lose it all anyway. Everything I’ve built could be gone, and I…”

The words jam up, cutting off mid-sentence.

My voice catches, and I have to swallow hard before I can push the rest through.

Jack’s brows pull together, his lips parting slightly.

I cut him off before he can even get the first syllable out.

“Liam offered to give me money. No strings attached. We were joking around about me offering him something else in return, and then…one thing led to another. It was all consensual. I didn’t feel forced or anything like that.

Like I said, I had a good time.” I shrug, my gaze flicking briefly toward Liam before falling away again.

There’s a pause—long enough for me to hear the tick of the wall clock behind me—before Liam finally speaks.

His voice is quieter than I expect. “You did?”

I lift my eyes, finding him watching me with something in his expression I can’t quite name. Weariness maybe? Or hope?

But then Reece speaks, his tone maddeningly calm like he’s just posing a business question.

“Is that the kind of arrangement you’re looking for? A…some kind of sugar baby situation?”

My head snaps toward him. “What?”

“Reece,” Jack cuts in sharply, his voice cracking like a whip. But Reece doesn’t flinch, and I’m still locked on him anyway.

Because the question lands somewhere I didn’t expect. The thing is…part of me is tempted.

I glance between them.

Three men I’ve known for less than seventy-two hours, but somehow I’ve been pulled into their orbit like I’ve been circling them for years.

All of them older, wiser, steadier.

All of them wealthy enough that handing me a few grand every so often wouldn’t even register in their bank accounts.

And in return?

I’m not na?ve about my own appeal.

I’ve seen the way they’ve looked at me when they think I’m not watching.

Wouldn’t I be stupid not to at least consider it?

They’d get what they wanted, I’d get what I needed. No one loses.

The thought hangs in the air, dangerous and sweet, and makes my toes curl.

I can feel the corners of my mouth tug upward before I can stop it.

“Well,” I say finally, meeting Reece’s gaze head-on, “if you’re offering…I’ll take you up on it.”