17
MARCIE
After tossing and turning and waking up with my hands in my panties several times, I finally gave up the battle with sleep. I got out of bed, changed into company-appropriate clothes, and headed to the door.
“Crap!” I cried as I caught sight of myself in the mirror. “Marcie Callan, you are not one of those cute girls with tiny, perky nah-nahs.”
I whipped the super-soft, clingy cotton off-the-shoulder sweatshirt over my head and sighed at the massive twins on my chest. Shaking my head, I turned to the drawer with my underclothes. I worked myself into the bra, making sure the cute strap didn’t twist before pulling the top back on. The charcoal gray top with the exposed seams looked cute with plain black leggings.
I almost felt confident enough to show my face downstairs. I glanced at my phone to check the time. Surely no one would be awake at this hour. I turned the corner in the hall and stopped, staring at the door.
Their door.
I took a deep breath and tiptoed past the room wherethey,my nemeses, disappeared into last night.
Did I tiptoe slowly?
Yes. I wasn’t stupid. They were hot.
I might not be confident enough to join the fun, even though everything in me craved it, especially now that I knew for a fact they were together but open to including others. I wish I were bold and brave. I imagined what they would do to each other and me, and what I would do to them all night if I’d not been such a chicken.
“Gah! Stop!” I grumble-shouted at myself under my breath. “This is why you didn’t sleep last night. Just stop!”
So engrossed in the inner admonishment I had going on in my brain, I missed the music playing softly in the kitchen. I whined under my breath and stamped my feet. I just wanted some coffee and something to eat.
Maybe it’s Katie and Jackson?
Did I really wanna watch them fight to keep their hands off each other…
Jackson was a Holt.
Declan was a Holt.
Was the inability to control lusty urges a Holt trait?
Hmm?
Katie and Jackson’s first kiss did happen in front of the paparazzi while the man straddled a motorcycle on a race track.
My finger tapped my chin as I continued thinking about the strong resemblance between Jackson and Declan. They looked so much alike, but just different enough not to be mistaken as brothers. But, Foster… he looked more like Jackson than Walker did.
“Dance with me, Papi.”
My body straightened, and my eyes popped open as wide as possible, stretching so much I thought the corners would tear.
Oh. My. God. Why are they awake at this time of day?
The music got a little louder. Holding my breath, I inched closer and closer to the opening to the big, beautiful modern farmhouse kitchen I’d drooled over since arriving. Today,this morning, the marble and inset shaker cabinets, paired with top-of-the-line luxury appliances, weren’t what caught my attention.
It was the two big men, swaying to the music together in the middle of the open floor between the islands. Yes, there were two. Two men. Two islands.
Their foreheads pressed together.
Eyes closed.
Hayden’s hand holding Declan’s to his chest, right over his heart.
Hayden’s free arm wrapped around Declan’s waist.
