Page 62 of Trapped Truth

Brooklyn narrows her eyes in a fierce glower. “Careful, Slaughter. This is a no lying household, and I will ban you from turkey and gravy if I have to.”

“Harsh terms, woman!”

“I call it fair,” she snaps back.

Kade sighs in a long-suffering manner. “Make yourselves at home, everyone.”

While the guys pan out to take various seats, I grab Blaine’s sleeve and navigate him towards the sofa near Axel. I’m not sure I’ve seen him so uncomfortable before. The fish-out-of-water look is a far cry from his usual suave, confident demeanour.

“Don’t let Axel steal any more cookies.”

“I’m sure I can handle that,” Blaine grunts.

“Good.”

More footsteps sound before Hudson enters the room, stopping to peck Brooklyn’s head. She twists her neck at the last second to capture his lips, holding the kiss for a moment then releasing him to start his greetings.

“Happy holidays, Ember.” Hudson nods at me.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t get all formal on me now. It doesn’t suit you.”

I crack a smile in his direction. “Nice jumper. Festive.”

Grimacing, he plucks the edge of his sweater, decked out in a gaudy snow scene with dancing elves. “I lost a bet to Phoenix. Don’t ask.”

“You should know by now not to take his wagers,” Kade calls from where he’s adjusting the tree decor.

“Trust me, I know. Thought I could teach the little shit a lesson.”

Brooklyn snorts from her spot in the kitchen. “When has that ever worked for you?”

Hudson audibly sighs. “Rarely.”

Watching them interact with such ease, I can’t hold in a little smile. It’s so comfortable. Practiced. I’ve slipped into the kitchen to offer to help when two more men sidle into the room in close tandem.

“Sorry, we were wrapping last minute gifts.” Phoenix hits me with a wave. “Hello again, Ember.”

“Hey.”

The slimmer man tucked under his arm surveys the room before glancing over me. Incisive emerald eyes seem to catalogue my appearance, though they dart around fleetingly, almost with a touch of shyness.

“This is Eli,” Brooklyn informs me. “I don’t think you’ve met.”

“We haven’t yet,” Eli replies quietly. “Hi.”

I wave back, keeping my expression neutral.

“I thought you were helping Jude with the baby?” Brooklyn asks them.

“Nah, he kicked us out.” Chuckling, Phoenix steers Eli to an empty bar stool. “Apparently, my excellent storytelling wasn’t conducive to nap time.”

“Your stories aren’t conducive,” Eli mutters. “Full stop.”

“Hey! I tell great stories!”

Shaking his head, Eli meets my wide stare. “I caught him reading one of Kade’s old Stephen King books to Logan when he was six months old.”