My Five Santas: A Christmas Reverse Harem

Chapter Four: This is Fine

Last December

"God, I need a shot of whiskey," I say as we drive down the long road lined with giant candy canes. "Maybe a bottle."

Flynn takes a hand off the wheel to reach over and squeeze my thigh.

"Deep breaths, Blue," he says. "I'll be by your side the whole time."

"Remember the plan," I say. "The minute I give you the signal, you go start the car and I pretend I have severe diarrhea, and have to immediately leave and—"

"Maggie," Flynn chuckles softly. "I remember the plan." He takes my hand and squeezes it. "But I don't think we'll need it. They love you. It's your family."

I fight the urge to snap at Flynn. It's not his fault that his relationship with his parents is uncomplicated.

We take a turn through some perfectly trimmed hedges and my parents' manor comes into view.

It looks like a Christmas card. Fresh fallen snow covers everything like smooth, vanilla icing. The decorators outdid themselves this year. Sparkling, golden lights twinkle on every tree branch and awning in sight.

"Wow," Flynn says, "you weren't kidding. They really do go all out for Christmas."

"Yeah, well, they've got to show up the other partners of their law firm." I cross my arms and sink down in my seat, feeling like a surly teen.

Flynn follows the signs to the large patch of grass sectioned off for guest parking.

"Do I look okay?" I ask Flynn as we walk towards the entrance. I tug at my curve-hugging red dress beneath my coat. "I shouldn't have chosen something so tight."

Flynn looks down at me, giving me a hot, dirty look. "You're joking, right?" He slips an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. "With you looking like that, I don't know how I'm going to go an entire evening without pulling you into a closet to have my way with you."

Warmth floods me, melting my anxiety. "New plan," I say. "When I give you the signal, you do exactly that."

"Deal."

When we're at the front steps of the manor, I frown at the long, red carpet rolled out down the staircase. "This is a lot fancier than normal."

"Maybe it's a nice welcome for you, since you haven't been able to come to their Christmas party for a few years."

I make an incredulous sound. "Right. Like that would happen. I'll just ask my sister, maybe she'll give me the scoop."

We reach the top of the stairs, but before Flynn hits the doorbell, I grab his hand.

"Wait," I say, chewing my lip. "My family can be a bit—"

"I know," Flynn says gently.

"My mom especially can be—"

"I remember you saying."

"My little sister is nice, but she's Mom's favorite, so sometimes even she is—"

"Mags." Flynn tucks a finger under my chin so I look up, swimming in his gaze. "I got you, Baby Blue."

I melt. I grab the lapel of his thick, winter coat and pull him down, his lips warm and soft against mine.

The front door bursts open.

"Margaret," my mother yells. "So this is why you're late? Swapping spit on our front door step without the decency to knock?"