“Baby!” Sloane cried.
They raced toward me, covered in frosting. In fact the garage looked as if an industrial baking accident had occurred. Icing, cake, chocolate sauce, and sprinkles were all over the floors, walls, and ceiling.
“My cars!” I said in shock. They were covered in desserts.
“It was Holly!” another elf exclaimed running towards me in mincing little steps.
“Shit,” several men chorused behind me.
“Mom?” Jack said as he, Jonathan, Matt, and Oliver peered around me at the dessert carnage.
“My darling sons!” my mother said, trying to hug my brothers. The youngest two shrank away from her.
“This is private property,” I said tersely. “I’m calling the police.”
“Holly’s the one who needs to go to jail!” Sloane howled.
I pushed through them.
Holly looked at me defiantly, picked up a cupcake, and threw it at the nearest car.
“You don’t get to just use me like I’m some sort of funny little holiday experiment that you can brag about to your friends,” she said hotly.
“I would never! I love you,” I insisted.
“No you don’t.”
Holly looked as if she was about to cry.
“Of course I do,” I said, reaching out and swiping at some of the frosting on her face.
“He’s in love with me!” Sloane yelled.
“No he isn’t,” Belle said, shoving our brothers out of the way. “Honestly, Sloane, don’t send incriminating emails from your work account. I had Garrett Svensson call up Evan Harrington and make him hand over your emails.” My sister handed Holly a stack of papers.
“That just proves that Owen and I had a deal,” Sloane countered.
“No, it explicitly shows you were talking to Diane about it.” Belle pointed to the email.
“Belle is lying!” Sloane shrieked. “I didn’t do any of that.”
“Are you kidding me?” Belle said. “I literally have proof.” She turned to Holly, who was leafing through the papers. “I’m sorry you got sucked into the middle of our family drama.”
“And I’m sorry you got sucked into the middle of mine,” Holly replied, jerking her head to indicate Amber. She smiled at me sheepishly. “So fair’s fair? Sorry I ruined your cars. I’ll buy you a drink to make it up to you?”
“You can make it up to me right now,” I said, leaning over her, tasting the sugar, vanilla, and cake as I kissed her.
“Yeah, I think that might work,” Holly breathed against my mouth.
I pulled her into a kiss, not caring that all the cake and frosting were going to ruin my suit. I kissed her long and hard.
“I think I love you too,” she said when I released her—well, tried to release her.
“I think we’re glued together,” she said, peeling herself off me.
“Does this mean you accept him back?” Jonathan shouted. “Because supposedly we’re eating raw turkey and beer for Christmas.”
Holly wrinkled her nose.
