Page 6 of Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree
“He is? Are you sure?” I let him slip a little, and he shrieks another giggle.
“Uh-huh. And I’m on the nice list. Mommy said so.”
“Mommy said what?” Chris’s wife, Jessie, says as she comes down the stairs.
“I’m on Santa’s nice list,” he repeats.
“Only if you do what you’re supposed to do. Which is what?” She perches both hands on her hips and gives Gage the mom look.
“Evan! Put me down.” He squirms to get free. “I gotta go take my bath before I end up on the naughty list.”
I flip him right side up, and he races up the stairs, already stripping out of his T-shirt.
Jessie shakes her head with a laugh.
“Lilah’s out back.”
“Where’s Chris?” I’d rather avoid being alone with Lilah.
“Grabbing drinks.”
“Correction. Chris is here. Cursing how fucking slow Milo and Finn are.” My best friend brushes a kiss on his wife’s shoulder.
The front door opens, and the two saunter in like they have all the time in the world. Like they aren’t late.
“Have fun.” Jessie winks and kisses Chris’s cheek. “I’m going to go make sure our son scrubs the pool out of his hair.”
Chris doesn’t move until Jessie disappears at the top of the stairs.
“Are we meeting in here so Chris can stare at his wife?” Milo jokes.
Chris flips him off without shifting his attention.
“Leave him alone, Milo. He’s only been married three months,” I say. “Lilah’s out back.”
Milo rushes to the back door, and I grind my teeth and follow him, leaving Finn and Chris to bring up the rear.
“Lil!” Milo tackles Lilah in her chair and sits in her lap. “Long time no see.”
“You saw me yesterday.”
Yesterday? Why the fuck did she see him yesterday?
“You two have some sort of extracurricular activity going on? Milo, do I need to pull out the contract?” I spit out before I can stop myself.
“Something in our contract specifically states that band members can’t go shopping together?” Milo glares at me, and guilt pricks almost immediately.
“Give it a fucking rest, Ev.” Finn claps me on the back and moves around me before pulling Milo off Lilah and dragging him to the couch.
“Sorry,” I mutter. The word sticks in my throat.
“Ouch, sounds like that hurt.” Lilah pouts her lower lip, and the urge to nip at the plump flesh battles for freedom.
Fuck.
I open my mouth to retort, but Chris whistles loudly behind me, pulling my attention from her.
“Jesus Christ, I’m a fucking babysitter. Ev, sit down. And if you and Lilah can’t be nice to each other, then don’t say any-fucking-thing at all.”
