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“Ah—” Sam gave an unexpectedly nervous chuckle. “I could always walk home and come back for the car tomorrow.”

Arden gazed at him evenly, taking in the quirk of his brows, the softness of his mouth, the sharp angle of his jaw. “Or you could stay.”

Sam gently gathered her hair in one hand and brushed it back over her shoulder. His thumb moved down her now exposed neck as he agreed.

“Or I could stay.”

Chapter 17

Phoebe

Phoebe woke to Christmas morning in the Lee house. It smelled like cinnamon and coffee. She sat up and stretched. The air mattress she’d slept on beside Jonathan’s childhood bed had been surprisingly comfortable, probably thanks to the soft old quilt and two feather pillows Sharon had procured for her from the linen closet. It had been at her urging that Phoebe had spent the night.

It’s late; everyone has been celebrating, I want you to be safe, and besides, we would love you to join us for breakfast.

Phoebe had been powerless to refuse, especially after two glasses of prosecco and a hot toddy.

Now she looked over at Jonathan. His sleeping face was gilded by slats of sunlight slipping through the window blinds. Everything, from the curl of his ear to the bristle of his eyebrows, was so sweetly familiar to her. She wanted to capture this moment, the way he slept with the pinstriped blanket pulled up over his chin. She marveled at the fact that, after all this time, being reunited could be so easy, so… fun.

It was meant to be, because we’re meant to start a business together, she told herself. It all makes sense. We took all the same classes. Our skills complement each other. It was the perfect time in both of our careers. So that’s what we’ll do. That’s the point of all this.

She felt that familiar itch to check things off her to-do list. After today—it was a holiday, after all—she would get back to work. She wanted this business plan to be finished by the new year.

“Morning,” Jonathan said sleepily, barely stirring except to open his eyes.

“Hey. I slept amazingly well. Your room is so cozy. And something smells incredible.”

“French-toast casserole.” Jonathan yawned and sat up. Phoebe was flustered by the sudden appearance of his bare torso.

She looked away as she said, “French-toast casserole? That sounds good.”

“My mom makes it every year.” Jonathan crossed the room to his closet, so Phoebe had to swivel her head again in the other direction. She couldn’t handle seeing him half naked right now. He slipped off his pajama pants.

Or naked.

Phoebe cleared her throat. “I wasn’t expecting a floor show this early in the morning.”

“Sorry.” Jonathan pulled on a flannel robe over his black boxer briefs. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Unless you wanted to…?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

They realized at the same time that Phoebe’s only outfit was the sparkly green gown. She had worn an old T-shirt of Jonathan’s to bed.

“Um…” Phoebe laughed. “Maybe I should borrow your robe for breakfast.”

“Nope, remember, we wear Christmas pajamas.”

Slightly mortified, Phoebe watched as Jonathan found a set of pajamas with reindeer on them.

“These should work. They’re a little small for me.”

Twenty minutes later, Phoebe joined the family in the kitchen, having splashed her face with cold water, brushed her teeth with her finger, and swiped on some tinted ChapStick. She’d cuffed the pajamas so they weren’t dragging on the floor.

“Morning.” Mina, having spent the night in the guest room, was curled on the couch, cupping a mug of coffee. “Nice pajamas.”

Phoebe looked down at the green reindeer-patterned flannel. So wearing oversized pajamas in front of Jonathan’s family was a tad embarrassing. At least she was comfy and festive.

“You too.” She nodded toward Mina’s somehow chic red plaid pajama set.