Tangled in Tinsel (The More the Merrier, #1)

by Trilina Pucci

“I really can’t stay—” He gives his signature smirk. “But, baby, it’s cold outside.”

See, Cole and I came from a different kind of neighborhood. Nobody cared what fork you ate with—but they might stab you with one.”

Two things happen next: One, I scream, trying to cover my body just as Cole’s eyes connect with mine. And two, he turns around just as I smack into that single pane of glass. I know it made a sound. Like a bell getting rung. Because that’s precisely what happened.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you were nice to me. Wouldn’t want you off the naughty list.”

“Showerhead,” I say unabashedly because the fucking hussy didn’t get knocked out of me.

“You forgot to say please, Samantha.” The deep gravel in his voice makes me shiver. “‘Tell me I’m a good girl’…Please. Now, use your words, baby, and ask me nicely.”

His grumpy, broody silence was my favorite color—red flag.

Jesus, what is wrong with me? I may have been fired to pave the way to my pussy, and I’m smiling? Feminism…who’s she?

My nervous energy begins to fade as I reach the end of the hallway because it’s so quiet. That is until I hear humming…from a person…as I round the corner into the kitchen. And worse, it’s the godawful song from my shower debacle.

“No, I know what you were saying. I thought you meant ‘want some’ of yours…but I got it. You can never be too safe with meningitis. Right?”

I’m thirty-two. Sometimes my back hurts when I work out too hard or if I lay in one spot so long that Netflix dares to ask if I’m still watching the show I’ve been binging.

“Sheesh, my throat’s so dry. Must be allergies. From like dust or pollen—” Reed chuckles. “Damn, that high pollen count in the winter. Its only rival—summertime in space.”

“Since you’re being so patient, I’ll tell you. I’m naked because our girl wanted to keep my sweats. Probably as a memento. She came all over the front of them. Now, if you’ll excuse me. It’s cold. Wouldn’t want her walking out here and getting the wrong impression.”

“Let me cut to the chase,” I level. “By all means, you look like you’re melting,” Cole adds.

Oh, and I’m on the pill.” A tiny laugh escapes as I add, “So I guess we’re raw dogging it.”

“Princess, I don’t care what questions, stipulations, or terms you have. You can have whatever the fuck you want. Including the spotlight or my dick down Alec’s throat if that ensures me inside that pussy.”

Mr. I probably get my underwear pressed is letting her rifle through his shit and take what she wants. Yeah, we like her.

“We’re yours now.”

“We’ll let our fingers get all pruney until you’re comfortable and back to rambly Samantha. Take a deep breath because I’ve got you. In every way, cutie.”

“If our girl is tired, then she sleeps.”

Samantha, 32. Gemini. Dog lover. Coffee addict. Loves adventure and getting treated like jerky. Bite me, and maybe I’ll let you wife me up.

“You made cookies,” he whispers. “I can smell ‘em.” I nod slowly, my eyes on his. “Keep it up, little elf, and I might ask Santa to keep you.”

“If it’s too much, you look at me. Do you understand? You look at me and say stop. And it all stops.”

“Cutie, you were so disappointed about the possibility of missing out on your tradition, we thought we’d bring it to you.”

“There’s a television inside. For all your Christmas movie needs. And your sister is waiting for you to FaceTime her. She’s been waiting most of the day, but we didn’t want to wake you.”

Jace kisses me sweetly. “Then I’m happy you let your guard down. Because you’re pretty fucking amazing.”

“Why are you so dumb? God, I hate this trope.”