“It’s not. It’s perfectly fine.”
“The acorn looks like a tiny executioner! I won’t have that shit looking at me all Christmas. It’s a bad omen!”
Matthias sighs loudly, and Jackson bites back a laugh, exchanging a look with Dalton.
“How much eggnog did he have?” Neo asks, pulling my gaze back to him. He’s looking up at me, his drink nearly gone.
“Not enough,” I sigh as Dalton moves toward my wrestling brothers, dragging Samson into a headlock and pulling him off Harley.
“Enough. You know he’s weaker than all of us,” Dalton says. “You have an advantage.”
“I’m not weaker,” Harley gasps, sitting up from the floor, his cheeks flushed. “I’m probably the toughest out of all of you! I swallow tinfoil!”
Dalton chuckles at that and then shoves him roughly. He falls back against the rug and lets out a disgruntled cough.
“You have the advantage,” Harley hisses.
“Enough of this weird posturing. You swallowing tinfoil makes you a fool,” Dalton says, and Harley glowers at his brother while Samson once again tries to place the wreath into the fire. He manages a little, but before it can go entirely up in flames, Matthias grabs it from him and holds it toward Wyatt, who pours his eggnog onto it. It makes Jules gasp in derision.
“My eggnog! Youidiot!”
I can’t help but let out a small laugh at the chaos surrounding us.
Neo leans into me, hiccuping slightly, a smile on his flushed face. “I thought this Christmas decoration thing would be more traditional, you know? More fancy shit and boring music, but I think I like the weird chaos right now. Makes me feel like less of an outcast.”
“You’re not an outcast. Not here. If anyone is, it’s Samson.” I lean down and whisper, “Do you know he likes to dance with axes?”
Neo giggles. “I did catch him once when he didn’t know I was watching. I have a recording of it.”
“Send it to me. The Firm can always use blackmail material.”
“Even against family?”
“Even more so. There are things I’d like my brothers to do that they push back against.”
“Like what?”
I shrug. “Like do what I say without arguing.”
His eyes twinkle slightly. “I don’t know if even blackmail will stop them from arguing.”
I chuck him under the chin and then lean down slightly to kissthose plump pink lips once more. God, he’s delicious. Even more so when he tastes like spice and bourbon.
When we come up for air, he touches his lips softly and turns his gaze toward the tree, cocking his head. “God, the entire tree looks lopsided, doesn’t it? I think I put too many ornaments on one side.”
He absolutely did, most of the ornaments sitting about Neo’s height and only on the front, but I bite my tongue and shake my head.
“No. It looks perfect. This is better than any tree we’ve ever had.”
“It is. I love what you did with it, friend,” Ansel says, moving toward us and handing Neo another glass of eggnog. “Jules insists you have another. I think you may already be drunk though.”
Neo cradles the glass in his hands. “No, I want it. I’ve never had such good eggnog. It’s weirdly addictive.”
“It’s disgusting. Drinking eggs and nutmeg. Would rather cut off my lips,” Samson says before being smacked over the head with an oversized candy cane by none other than Jules himself. Only problem is, he does it with such force that it bounces off Samson’s head and hits Jules in the face, making Harley jump up and rush to his aid.
Jules is standing there, slightly shocked, the candy cane limp in his hand.
“Oh my god! Are you okay? Someone call 911. He’s immobile! He’s having an embolism!”
