Once Upon a Sure Thing (Heartbreakers #2)(28)

I snap my gaze to her, dropping my jaw. “You don’t like baths? I love luxuriating in the tub when I have the rare chance.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “I don’t have a tub, and I don’t miss it.”

Roxy raises a glass of eggnog. “Hear! Hear! I have a tub, but I don’t use it. I’m all shower, all the time.”

“A woman who loves showers,” Miles says in a raspy tone, wiggling his eyebrows at the leggy redhead.

I shift my gaze from him to her, and I swear he’s picturing Roxy in the shower. The dirty pervert.

Sam’s voice slices across the chorus. “Excuse me,” she booms like a megaphone. “Anyone else think it’s unacceptable that the adults are talking about baths in front of us? If you’re under eighteen and mortally offended, raise your hand.”

Jackson laughs and lifts his hand. Mackenzie’s son, Kyle, shoots up his palm. Chloe raises hers too. Sam sweeps through the living room, scoops up her towheaded cousin, and makes the youngest kid in the room wiggle his fingers. “See? Ben agrees.”

With him perched on her hip, she points accusingly at the lot of us. “All of you are hereby forbidden from discussing your bathing habits henceforth and forever and ever. Amen.”

Ben giggles and Sam gives him a big smoochy kiss on his forehead.

“We’re so sorry,” Mackenzie and Campbell apologize in unison, complete with bows of supplication.

“You’re forgiven,” Sam says magnanimously.

“No more bath talk, Ally,” Miller says to me in a low, flirty voice.

I press my hand to my chest, ever the innocent. “Hey! The bath talk was hardly my fault.”

“I know,” he says, his voice dipping into a low growl, “but now I know you’re a mermaid.”

My lips part, and heat splashes across my cheeks. He makes mermaid sound like the most decadent word in the English language.

“And are you a merman?” I ask quietly, as I stretch to adjust a trio of silver and purple ornaments on a high branch.

“I do like water,” he says with a wink. “Let me help.”

He slides in closer to me, his freshly showered scent flooding my nose. A flush climbs over me while he finds just the right branch for the ornaments, whispering in that rough voice again, “Also, I’m not opposed to baths with mermaids.”

His eyes darken, shimmering with desire, the way they do when he sings with me. The way that’s dangerous. I swear, I can feel a full-body tremble coming on, like a Mack truck barreling down the highway.

But it’s best to avoid gasping, sighing, or panting in front of the whole crew, so I square my shoulders like I can fight off the desire that’s picking up speed as the flush spreads down my chest.

My hormones are saved from a public show when the opening notes of “Frosty the Snowman” fill the room.

“I love Frosty,” Ben shouts.

God, me too, since Frosty is taking my focus off my out-of-control libido.

Campbell dives into the first few lines, singing about two eyes made out of coal. Soon his golden tones are twined with those of his brothers, telling a tale of a snowman that comes to life.

The look on Miller’s face is pure joy, and I’m keenly aware he can’t ever resist the chance to knock out tunes with his former bandmates. His favorite bandmates.

My heart hurts a little, knowing he’ll always prefer them.

But I can’t compete in that department. I don’t have the equipment or the DNA, so there’s no point. I remind myself not to feel threatened by them, even mentally. Instead, I enjoy the special concert as the three former teen heartthrobs serenade their families with Christmas music.

When the tune ends, Mackenzie springs to her feet, clapping so loudly it must hurt her palms. “Encore! Encore!”

Miller looks to his brother, snaps his fingers, and says, “Do you recall . . .?”

And the trio rocks out to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” as the rest of us chime in with the chorus. They slide into “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” next, and at the end of that song, Campbell walks over to the spacious leather couch, sets his hands onto Mackenzie’s shoulders, and sings the final lines to her.

My heart melts into a puddle from the love they share—it’s like it has its own life force. It fills the living room. They’re so madly in love it makes my chest ache.

It makes me want.

I have to look away, but when I do, I find Miller watching me, maybe even cataloging my reaction to Mackenzie and Campbell—the new lovers, the happy couple.

Our eyes connect, and the back of my neck grows hot. I need to resist him for so many reasons, but when he gazes at me like that, my resolve starts to burn off.

“How about Miller and Ally?” Mackenzie shouts, and I frown.

“How about Miller and Ally what?” I ask, a little defensively. Did she catch on to something?

“A song,” Mackenzie adds with a smile, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Let’s do it,” Miller says, catching my gaze again. He licks his lips and shoots me a wolfish smile. That’s a new one, and it makes me feel like he can read my mind, dirty thoughts and all. Have I become an open book?

Campbell slices a hand through the air. “Hey, now, this is a family Christmas party, folks. Kids are here, so we can’t have Hot Stuff sing.”