Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Your house is beautiful, Lachlan,” I whisper, gaping around as he carries me over the threshold. Unlike my place, it looks like Christmas exploded in here. Everything is decorated for the holiday in soft pinks, creams, and gold. The massive tree dominates the living room, with presents piled beneath. An entire Christmas village is spread across every surface in the living room between Christmas greenery. It’s gorgeous.
“Lyric fucking loves Christmas,” he murmurs, carrying me toward the plush sofa. “She goes all out every year. It’s the one day of the year Sinclair and I are forbidden from working.”
“And of course the two of you give her what she wants,” I say, smiling. Sinclair is a certified grump. He’s in the process of selling his half of the company to Lachlan but refuses to say why. I have a feeling it’s because of a woman. And I have an even stronger feeling the woman in question is Lyric.
I’ve heard the way he talks about her. There’s a softness in his voice that isn’t there when he speaks about anyone else. Only her. Lachlan hasn’t figured it out yet, but I have a feeling he will soon enough.
His best friend is in love with his baby sister. I don’t think he’ll mind, though. Lachlan genuinely cares about the people in his life. He adores his sister. If Sinclair makes her happy, I think Lachlan will root for them.
“Who us?” Lachlan laughs. “Never, pretty baby.”
“Liar.” I run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re a good man, Lachlan. Lyric is lucky she has you.”
He tips his head down to look at me, his brows furrowed. “You don’t have siblings.”
“No,” I whisper. “My parents realized they didn’t want kids. They just realized one kid too late, so they dropped me off at boarding school as soon as I was old enough. I grew up there.”
“Jesus,” he rumbles. “That’s fucked up, Caitlin.”
“I know.” I shrug one shoulder. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. They are who they are, and I turned out okay despite them.”
“No.” He shakes his head, his expression somber as he settles me on the sofa. “You turned out fucking amazing despite them.”
A blush heats my cheeks, staining them pink. “You turned out pretty amazing yourself.”
He leans down, claiming my mouth in a deep kiss. Heat rushes through me as soon as his tongue touches mine, sending my temperature soaring. “Glad you think so because I have something for you,” he breathes against my lips. “Stay right here.”
My eyes flutter open in time to see him squatting in front of the tree. I watch as he rummages through the gifts piled underneath, looking for something.
“Lachlan,” I protest. “You weren’t supposed to buy me anything. The whole point of giving you the list I gave you was because…never mind.”
He pauses what he’s doing to look at me. “No. Finish that sentence.”
“I didn’t want you spending money on me,” I mumble. “I thought if I gave you an impossible list, I’d still meet your demand to give you a list without obligating you to get me anything on it.”
“Clever girl,” he says even as his lips pull down into a frown. “You need to learn to let me spoil you, pretty baby. I have more fucking money than I know what to do with. If I want to spend it on you, let me.”
“I don’t want you to spend it on me. It’s your money.”
“Precisely.” He smirks, grabbing a small box and then rising to his feet. “It’s my money. That means I can spend it however the hell I want. So if I want to buy you a goddamn diamond encrusted tiara every fucking day, then that’s my prerogative.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “You better not have bought me a diamond encrusted anything.”
“I didn’t buy this.” He strides across the room toward me, looking far too beautiful with that proud smile on his face. The small box drops onto my lap. “Open it, baby.”
I stare at the box for a long moment, too anxious to open it. “I don’t have your present,” I whisper.
“This isn’t your present.”
“It was under the tree.”
“Wishful thinking on my part.”
“It’s wrapped in Christmas paper.”
His lips tip up into an amused grin. “Do I need to spank your perfect little pussy to get you to open the box, Caitlin?”
“No?” I gulp, practically bursting into flames at the thought. And then I squirm. “Is now a bad time to tell you that I’m a virgin?”
“Jesus Christ.” He palms his cock. Pinches the bridge of his nose. Looks like he’s contemplating throwing me over his shoulder and storming for the stairs. His gaze actually flickers in that direction a few times as he clenches and unclenches his fists. “Open the box, Caitlin. Now.”