“Asher, come on, honey, let’s get downstairs. Uncle Nick will be right down.”
From her tone, it was easy for Maisie to figure out Ellie was nowhere near as oblivious to the second body in the bed as her four-year-old son.
“Morning, sis,” Nick said gruffly. “Merry Christmas.”
“More merry for some of us,” Ellie muttered.
Then Asher’s feet were gone, his weight lifted from the bed, and a few seconds later, the door closed.
Maisie stayed hidden, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.
The sheets flipped back and then Nick was up on his elbow, looking down at her with a wide grin on his stupidly handsome face. How could he look that good even in the morning? She hadn’t dried her hair last night so she probably looked like she’d rubbed balloons all over her head. Her hand went to it, tried to smooth it out while he stared.
He took her hand, pulled it away from her hair. “Seriously? My nephew busts us first thing and you’re worried about your hair?”
She frowned at him. “Not all of us wake up looking like you.”
His low, grumbly laughter sent little shudders over every inch of her skin. “Thank God. If you looked like me, you wouldnotbe waking up in my bed.”
She would have laughed but then his lips were at that spot whereher neck met her shoulder and humor slipped away. Just as quick, he pulled back.
“I have to get downstairs.” He pressed his forehead to hers, closed his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Maisie.”
Holding on to him and the moment, her hand now in his hair, she whispered back, “Merry Christmas, Nick.”
He pressed a way-too-quick kiss to her lips and then he was up, tugging on a pair of jogging pants while Maisie did her best not to drool. He turned, caught her blatantly staring, and winked at her. Maisie pressed her lips together, then she realized, if Asher was up, her family wouldn’t be far behind and since it was the first Christmas morning they’d spent together in a while, Jacob or Natalie would probably be in her room any second.
“Shit,” she said, jumping out of the bed. Dammit. Her clothes were in her room.
“You good?” Nick asked quietly, one brow arched right before he pulled his T-shirt over his head.
She really wanted to steal that shirt and tug it over her own body, which he was currently staring at hard enough to make her cheeks heat.
“My siblings are probably five minutes behind Asher.” With no other choice, she hurried past him, ignoring his laughter as she rushed through the connecting doors, snagged a pair of undies from her bag, yanked on the first tank top she grabbed, and dove into her bed.
She barely had the covers pulled up when her door pushed open.
“Get up, lazy elf,” Natalie said, coming to the bed.
Her sister plopped down next to her and shook Maisie’s shoulder.
“Adults don’t get up this early,” Maisie said, hoping her voice sounded the right level of sleepy.
“They do when there’s a four-year-old running around yelling about Santa. Come on, get up.”
Natalie lifted herself off the bed and Maisie made a show of sitting up, stretching and faking a yawn. She got out of the bed, happy with herself for pulling it off in the “nick” of time. She laughed to herself, reaching out to grab pajama bottoms from her bag. When she straightened, Natalie had her hands on her hips and was staring at her with a smirk on her twitching lips.
“Might want to fix your tank. It’s inside out. Weird you slept with the bathroom door open since it joins someone else’s room.” Natalie wandered over to said door and peeked in, turning back to face Maisie.
Maisie pointed at her. “Not a word. Get out. I’ll be down in a minute.”
She closed the bathroom door on her sister’s laughter and even though she was low-key embarrassed, she did a five-second happy dance right there in the middle of their wet and discarded clothes.
Merry Christmas, Maisie.
ASHER TORE INTO THEnext present, sending paper flying over his head. His adorable little-boy mouth dropped open and he looked up at Nick.
“There’s a hockey player LEGO guy!” Asher put the huge box of LEGOs aside and rushed to his uncle, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his neck. When he pulled back, he put both of his hands, so small, against Nick’s face and stared down at him. “Thanks, Uncle Nick. Can we build it?”
