But when his gaze caught on our hands, his mouth curved. He was polite enough not to say anything, though. Nash was not. “Holy shit.” Nash let out a hoot from the couch. “It’s a Christmas miracle in the middle of spring.” “Nash…” Holt warned. “What?” Nash asked with mock innocence. “I can’t be happy for my brother?” “You are welcome to your happiness, but you are not welcome to give Wren a hard time.”
