As we’re led down a hallway lined with flickering candles and the faint scent of rosemary, I can’t help brushing my fingers along the smooth cedar walls.
We pass a relaxation lounge where women in robes recline on chaises, cucumber water glinting on side tables, and beyondthat, I catch a glimpse of a glass-walled room where snow falls gently outside while someone sinks into a steaming mineral pool.
Soon, we reach the changing rooms, and our escort looks back at us.
“Once you all change into your robes, you’ll be escorted to your first treatments.” She glances down at the clipboard she’s holding in her hand. “Stacey and Rylee, we’ve prepared several treatments especially for the two of you, including prenatal massages.”
Rylee’s face lights up and I can’t help grinning too. The guys really did think of everything.
“Oh, that’s going to be good.” Stacey pats Rylee on the shoulder. “You’re going to love this.”
The lady leaves us to change into fluffy white robes. They are so soft and luxurious, I think I could easily take a nap in mine. For the first time all morning, I actually stop thinking about what the guys are hiding and let myself relax. Whatever they’re up to, I’m in no rush to find out.
CHAPTER FIVE: GARLANDS AND GREMLINS
CARSON
I stand by the windows,keeping watch as the SUVs make their way out of the driveway. Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I’m eager to get to work since we have a limited amount of time to pull this off. Patience has never been my thing, and every minute that goes by is a minute of prep we don’t get.
The moment the SUVs disappear from view down the road, I give the signal. “All clear! Let’s go!”
We waste no time and hurry outside to Wilder’s truck. He pulls the cover off the bed, revealing several boxes and plastic totes. It’s all the decorations we managed to gather without the girls noticing. We had Wilder bring them along since he was the only one who didn’t have someone riding with him.
“All right, guys,” Jensen declares, slipping into his captain voice. “We packed the girls’ itineraries with as much as the spa would allow, so we have about five hours before they come back. We need to get the decorations up and dinner started. Let’s get these boxes inside and fucking go!”
We let out a collective roar, as if we’re about to charge out onto the ice. Unpacking the truck, I carry two totes into the house and set them in the living room. Jensen, Zander, andOwen carry in the other totes, and Wilder drags a big Igloo cooler inside and into the kitchen. He digs out the food and lays it out on the island—a turkey, potatoes, fresh green beans, the works—then comes back into the living room.
“Turkey’s brined and ready to go in the oven,” he says. “We can decorate and then cook. We don’t want to put it in too soon, otherwise we’ll have a dry-ass bird.”
I arch a brow, a little taken aback by the confidence in his tone. “Since when do you cook?”
He gives me a cocky grin. “Mrs. Clay taught me. Thought it’d help me find a wife.”
“Oh, poor Mrs. Clay,” I chuckle. “Ever the optimist.”
He nods. “She is, but I will say, being able to whip a girl up a big breakfast is a good way to secure morning sex, so the skill doesn’t go to waste.”
“Well, I’m sure that’ll warm Mrs. Clay’s heart,” I snort. “Knowing that her cooking lessons are helping you get laid even more often than before.”
“She’d probably try to beat me with a wooden spoon.”
“Oooh, kinky.”
He rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Shut up.”
“Don’t forget to cover the turkey,” Zander calls out. “Gizmo is somewhere around here, and he’ll steal it if we let our guard down.” He looks around, eyes narrowed, as if expecting the cat to fly out at him at any moment.
Pivoting away from Wilder, I put my hands on my hips and grin. “Right. Where do we start?”
Silence settles over us, and we all just kind of stare at each other.
“Wait…” I frown, blinking. “Has anyone done this before?”
“Um…nope,” Jensen shakes his head. “Never been much of a decorator.”
“Me either,” Zander shrugs.
“Same.” Owen scratches the back of his head.
