Page 35 of Daddies’ Holiday Toy (Kissmass Daddies #1)

JACK

The caffeine headache hits me before the sun’s even up.

It blooms right behind my eyes sharp and mean, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

If I don’t get coffee in me within the next twenty minutes, I’ll be useless all damn day.

I roll out of bed slowly, careful not to wake anyone when I move.

All four of us somehow managed to pile into Holly’s full-sized bed for the night, cramped together on top of the small surface, and somehow, miraculously, my back feels only a little stiff.

The floor’s cold under my feet as I pad down the hall and into the kitchen.

A couple of plates and glasses are stacked haphazardly in the sink.

One of the chairs at the table is pulled out at an angle from someone pushing it back in a hurry.

The faint smell of roasted chicken still lingers in the air, though it’s gone stale in the hours since we laughed over it.

I don’t bother with lights, there’s plenty streaming in from the windows at the front of her apartment.

I grab the pot from the burner and scoop the grounds in, setting back down to wait for the slow drip to gurgle.

It does after a few silent minutes.

The strong, bitter scent cuts through the fog in my head, easing my shoulders a little.

I’m halfway through my first mug when I hear shuffling from down the hall.

Liam appears looking just as wrecked as I feel, a blanket pulled around him and knotted at his left hip.

He mutters something that passes for “morning,” and heads straight for the cabinet to grab another mug.

We stand like that, me on one side of the counter, him on the other, sipping coffee in silence.

It’s been like this ever since the fight with Carson. No outright hostility between us, just distance.

I don’t know what’s worse, that I’m starting to get used to it, or how it doesn’t seem to affect him at all.

I’m surprised when Liam breaks first. “You talk to Carson lately?”

I shake my head. “No.”

That catches him off guard. His brows lift, his gaze narrowing. “Really?”

“No.” I set my mug down, watching the swirl of dark liquid settle, the little ripples smoothing out. “Why?”

He takes a slow sip, like he’s using it to buy him a little more time before speaking again.

“I just…I figured you’d still be hanging out with him since you don’t really care about what he did to Holly.”

A snort escapes me. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s ironic.

“I’ve never not agreed with you about Carson being a shitty father, Liam. I just never say it out loud because I didn’t think I needed to. But it was never our place to do anything about it when that was between him and Maggie to figure out.”

Liam watches me for a while, churning my words over in his head for a bit.

“You really believe that? That he’s a shitty father?”

I meet his eyes, steady. “I’ve believed that for a long time.”

He leans back against the counter, arms crossing over his bare chest.

The pose is casual, but his stare isn’t. It’s anything but.

“It never occurred to you,” he says slowly, “that you should have said something to him earlier? Holly’s the one who paid the price for their crap, and we just let that happen. I’m guilty of it too. I just…I’m tired of standing by and watching them fuck their daughter over without any care . ”

I let out a small sigh.

My fingers absentmindedly tap against the side of my mug.

“I agree. I think we were all in the wrong for not at least trying to step in when all of that was going down. That’s a guilt that’s going to live with me for a long, long time.

I know it will with you too. At this point, all we can do is make sure Holly is supported and tell Carson to fuck off if he tries to come around her again. ”

Liam shifts then, his shoulders easing back down, the tension in his frame losing the last bit of bite.

He exhales through his nose, almost a huff. “Guess that makes us the new daddies, huh?”

I roll my eyes so hard they nearly detach from my skull. “Don’t start with that shit.”

The corner of his mouth lifts just enough to be considered a half-grin.

“It’s not shit. You and me and Reece…not exactly conventional.”

“Does that bother you?” I ask.

“Does that bother you ?” he counters right back.

I think for a moment, letting my finger still against my mug. Finally, when I open my mouth, I surprise myself with saying, “No, not at all.”

Liam tilts his mug toward me in a mock toast.

“Good. And hey, let’s stop being assholes to each other. I’m tired of being mad at you over some stupid shit Carson’s done. Truce?”

The corner of my mouth tilts up. “Truce.”

It’s not perfect, there’s far too much water under the bridge for that, but it’s solid enough that it feels like the ground between us has stopped crumbling.

I’m glad for that.

Liam is my best friend.

I would hate to lose him over something ridiculous like Carson’s inability to be a good person to his own kid.

We both were better than letting that happen to our friendship.

At the front of Holly’s apartment, the sound of a lock clicking into place has both Liam and me turning and poking our heads out of the kitchen.

The door to Holly’s apartment, the handle specifically, jiggles again.

Every muscle in my body goes taut.

It’s barely past sunrise.

Holly shouldn’t be expecting anyone at this hour.

The hinges give a slow, aching creak as the door swings open.

Our mugs hit the counter almost in unison, the clink of ceramic muffled by the pounding of our feet as we march toward the door to interrupt whatever intruder could be dumb enough to try and break in.

The moment the door swings open, Liam and I stop dead in our tracks.

And so does Margaret.

She stands frozen in the doorway like she’s walked straight into a nightmare.

Her hair is pulled back in a loose knot at the top of her head, a few strands slipping free.

The purse slung over her shoulder slowly drops down to the crook of her elbow.

I see the exact second she processes what she’s looking at.

The fact that Liam and I are both barefoot, bare-chested, looking every bit like men who just rolled out of her daughter’s bed…and standing right here in her apartment doorway.

Her mouth opens.

The scream rips out of her before I can even think to move and put my hand over her mouth.

The sound is not just from shock, it’s layered with betrayal, outrage, and utter disbelief.

It’s every protective instinct she’s ever had for Holly detonating in a single, ear-splitting sound.

Liam swears under his breath and moves to grab her. But before he can, quick footsteps run down the hallway.

Holly appears with a robe half done up around her naked body, Reece slowly trailing behind her with a pair of sweats hanging low around his hips.

They’re both as disheveled as Liam and I are.

Maggie’s gaze whips to them, and I swear I can hear the click in her brain as she connects the dots.

Her face drains pale, then floods with color so fast that it’s like watching a storm form over the ocean.

“What the hell is going on?”

Her voice slices through the room, sharp and demanding.

No one speaks at first.

Maybe because we’re all caught in the same stunned standoff that’s going downhill so fast, not one of us can try to salvage it before it detonates.

There’s no version of the truth that’s going to make any of this blow over, least of all convince Maggie that what she’s seeing isn’t exactly what it looks like.

Holly’s eyes are wide and frantic.

She looks at her mom, then at me, then at Liam like she’s searching for a lifeline but can’t decide who’s safest to grab onto. I can feel

Liam tense beside me, shoulders squared, already deciding he’ll be the one to step forward and take the brunt of this by being the wall between Holly and her mother.

But it’s me Maggie zeroes in on.

Not at all surprising since I’m the oldest out of all of us.

She’s decided I’m the one who should have the answers, any explanation worth hearing, it’s going to come from my mouth.

“Tell me,” she pushes out through gritted teeth, “what the hell is going on.”