Page 32 of Enduring Christmas

CHAPTER NINE

Themoment Xenobia walked into No Limits something felt awry. Lights, wreaths, garland, lights hung on every visible surface. The main dining room was packed, as was the bar. The music was amplified; “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree”© with a steel drumbeat vibrated the walls. And the children, they seemed to have multiplied. The tables and been lined up end-to-end for additional space and there were Dutch ovens, slow cookers, and platters overflowing with meat, veggies, cakes, cookies, and pies.

Ivy approached, her custom-made tie-dye shirt jingling with sewn-n red bells. It was hideous, that it was cute.

"Xenobia, where's Luke?

"He's on his way. Why?" Yep, she was that chick wanting to know what every woman needed with her man.

"Girl, some guy showed up about five minutes ago looking for you."

"Who is he?"

Ivy fanned her face. "He is fine and gorgeous. Says his name was Ramsey."

Oh, dear baby in a manger, not now. While Ivy faked a swoon, Xenobia's brain sprang into action.

"Does Luke know about Mr. Prime Ripped?" Ivy covered her eyes. "I mean seriously, I can't unsee that body," she exclaimed.

"He's not a guy," Xenobia rolled her eyes. "He's a brother-in-law." Ramsey was a romance book hero incarnate. Not too tall or short, a touch of gray at the temples, and a whole lot of muscle to hold onto.

"So why show up now?"

"There you are," Ramsey shouted. "Everybody this is the woman I've been looking. My sister-in-law's favorite little sister."

Xenobia took one look at his holiday attire, and nearly fell and bumped her head again.

Ramsey Tadeo wore his leather vest, no shirt, and painted on jeans. His signature cowboy hat had been replaced with a fuzzy red Santa's cap. The complete holiday Playboy™ ensemble.

And as the famous bunny said, that's all folks.

To say the man had a beautiful body was an understatement. His muscles had individual modeling contracts.

"Ramsey, what are you doing here? I told you not to come."

He pinched her cheeks. "I thought that was code language. You know, a cry for help," he said, tossing a few pretzels in his mouth. "Who wants to be alone at Christmas?"

Thanks to Luke and Shiloh, she hadn't felt that sense of being alone within the crowd at all. "Keep your voice down."

"We're in a bar," he pointed out as if she was daft.