“What’s going on there?” he asks without preamble. “I see that look in your eye. Tell me.”
Damn it. He always did know me better than I know myself. I drag him to the far side of the kitchen, away from the others.
“It’s nothing. A harmless little crush. He’s attractive, and he’s a good guy. You, of all people, should know how I feel about guys like that.” I attempt to distract him with flattery, but the knowing look on Webster’s face tells me it didn’t work.
He cocks an eyebrow. “You mean he’s sexy as hell and he’s sweeter than sugar, right? Because if you’re saying that man is merelyattractive,then we need to get you a dictionary. Because you don’t know the meaning of the word.”
I roll my eyes and smile. Of course he’s calling me out. He knows me better than anyone, and if he didn’t sense that something was up, I’d have been stunned.
“Fine. I have a giant crush on my baby’s dad, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
He nudges me with his elbow when Archer looks at me and smiles before going back to talking to my brother. “See? He can’t go more than a minute without knowing where you are. I think he likes you.”
I scoff. “You won’t think that later when you meet his girlfriend. She’s beautiful. Way more of a catch than I am.” My shoulders sag and I sigh. “She’s got to be a model. Or a dancer. It’s the only explanation. You’ll see. Her legs are eighteen miles long and she has the face of an angel.”
“Oh, honey,” he says with a pout before wrapping his arms around me. “You are better than any dancer or model. In fact, if you had a penis, you’d be perfect.”
I snort a laugh. “Too soon.”
He puts a hand on my head and pulls me to his chest. “I know, honey. But at least you laughed.”
I chuckle and shake my head against his chest. “Fine. You got me there.”
He pats my head, then lets me go, turning to take Frederick’s hand. Warren pours champagne for everyone while mom and Charlie distribute the flutes. When we all have a glass, Warren makes a short toast to the happy couple. Webster’s tears finally flow when Warren officially invites Frederick to the family. I swallow a lump in my throat. Knowing my family will be there for Webster when his own family won’t makes me love them even more.
We chat a little longer while Mom gets the turkey into the oven, before Archer excuses himself to get changed into his costume.
“Phoebe?” he calls from the living room after several minutes. “Can you come here for a minute?”
I nod to everyone, then head to the living where I freeze in my tracks at the sight before me. I’m stunned speechless like I was yesterday when I saw Archer stepping out of the shower in his sopping wet boxer shorts. I think I may have even short-circuited yesterday when I watched the water dripping down over his abs. Either that or I imagined myself standing there unable to say anything but “wow”.
It’s so much worse now. He’s standing in my living room, Santa costume hanging perfectly on his hard frame, but there’s one issue. The jacket is hanging open, and he’s naked underneath. Nude. Naked. Shirtless. Pecs popping and on full display. Nipples. Out. The suspenders extending over his naked chest make it more scandalous than if he were merely shirtless. I swallow hard against the desert my mouth has become. He’s left off the beard, showing his own sexy scruff instead, and he looks like every naughty Santa fantasy come to life.
I’m definitely going to need some private time with my vibrator after this.
“Phoebe?” His face sports a knowing grin, and I groan inwardly. How does he keep catching me staring? Why can’t he let me ogle him in peace? It’s not fair. “I was most of the way dressed when I realized I forgot the shirt. Then I had this idea,” he says, gesturing to his open jacket, “but now that I see it, I’m not sure. What do you think? Is this okay? Is it too risqué for a social media engagement announcement?”
The words don’t come, and I nod mindlessly.
“It’s too much?”
I shake my head.
“It’s not too much?”
I shake my head again, and he laughs. “You’re going to need to use some words because I don’t understand what you mean.”
Before I can get my thoughts in any semblance of order, a hand on my shoulder stops me, and I hear a rough intake of breath followed by a squeal of excitement.
“Oh my god, this is perfect,” Webster claps his hands together. “Frederick, come in here and look at Santa Hottie. He’s way better than that Kris Kringle at the farmer’s market, isn’t he?”
It’s true. Kris Kringle was a skinny twerp compared to the glory that is Archer Fade half-naked in a Santa suit. I wonder if he’ll let me sit on his lap?
Or maybe his face?
I scrub that thought from my mind in time to see everyone filing into the living room behind Frederick.
“I love it. Our friends are going to die.”
