“Fuck! Dean—move. Move!It’s my mother,” I hissed.
Disgruntled, he rolled to the side and sat up, scrubbing a hand through his hair. I scrambled out of bed, snatched my shorts, and pulled them on. Frantically, I tiptoed to the door and checked the hallway.
No sign of Mom or Dad, but that could change in an instant. I had to move fast.
“I thought your parents didn’t celebrate Christmas together anymore,” Dean said with a yawn.
My heart jackhammered in my chest while he was sitting there half asleep, unbothered. But he didn’t know what it was like to have a damn bloodhound for a mother.
Dad let me get away with practically murder.
Mom, on the other hand, didn’t let me get away with anything. Ever.
Of course I can tell when you’re up to something,she would say.I’m your mother. I have eyes in the back of my head.
For the longest time, I genuinely believed that. Sometimes—like today—it wouldn’t surprise me if that was freakishly true.
I eased the door shut, lowering my voice so we wouldn’t be overheard. The clock was ticking though, and chitchat about my current family dynamic was wasting precious seconds I couldn’tafford to lose. I had to leave before I ran into one—or both—of my parents while I was sneaking out of Dean’s room.
“After Mom had the twins, traveling during the holidays became a nightmare," I said. "The stress was too much. So, we made a deal. Dad and I visit her in Connecticut on Thanksgiving and we have a two-for-one deal. Thanksgiving and Christmas rolled into the same day. It’s crazy, but it works.”
“Then what is she doing here?” Dean prompted.
“I don’t know,” I replied, exasperated. “On the rare occasion that she visits us, it’salwaysplanned for months in advance. She never justshows up.”
He hummed in thought. My gaze swept over him quickly—bare chested, tattooed, sleep-rumpled, with those gray sweatpants that would certainly be the death of me one day. I would have gladly sold my soul for the chance to climb into his arms, straddling his lap, kissing him awake properly.
But there was no time for that.
“I’m sure she has her reasons for dropping by unannounced,” Dean said.
I scoffed.
“Yeah. Her Mom Radar was going off halfway across the country because I was sleeping with my dad’s best friend and she’s here to whip my ass into shape.”
He arched his eyebrows with a chuckle.
“There’s no way she could possibly know that—”
I shot him a look.
“Never mind. I’ll remember to say something nice at your funeral.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Very funny. But you’re forgetting that when I go down, you go down with me.”
Without giving him a chance to reply, I pulled the door open again and slipped into the hallway. Moving as fast as possible,I ducked into my room, grabbed a bathrobe, and finger-combed my hair into a messy ponytail. Donning a bright smile in the mirror, I hurried off to greet Mom.
“Hey! What a surprise!” I held my arms out for a hug. She was shorter than me by six inches, with her dishwater blonde hair cut into her signature chin-length bob. I was built like my dad with an athletic figure, while she had full, lush curves that I envied. “If I had known you were coming, I could have had breakfast on the table, ready and waiting when you arrived.”
Mom dropped two bulging bags of wrapped Christmas presents on the floor as she squeezed my tight.
“Frank and the kids are spending two weeks with his parents, and I thought I’d take advantage of the opportunity to hop a flight, say hello. It's been forever since we actually spent Christmas together.” She paused and held me at arm's length. “Did you change your perfume? It’s kind of…earthy. Like smoky bourbon or leather.”
A jolt of alarm rocketed up my spine.
My mother could smell Dean’s scent on me.Fuck my life!
