“I COULDN’T EAT ANOTHER BITE,” Sienna moans, lying flat on her back in the middle of the living room floor. A football game is on the television mounted on the wall. Even though this room is large, with this many people, it feels crammed. It’s wonderful. Maybe even perfect. I sit on Lincoln’s lap on a love seat next to Ford. Graham and his father stand behind the couch, each with a tumbler of dark liquor, discussing something in detail. Camilla is stretched out beside her sister, her phone in her face, while Barrett and Alison are curled up on the couch. Huxley is leaning against a giant Arrows pillow with a game in his hand.

Vivian enters, looking no worse for the wear after cooking what can’t be described by any other word than feast. A tray of snacks in her hands, she sits it on the table in front of Barrett and Alison. “Anyone need a nibble?”

“Mom, really?” Lincoln asks, rubbing his stomach. “I don’t even want to look at food.”

“I get everyone home for a few days a year. Pardon me for wanting to feed you,” she says. Taking in the scene in front of her, she smiles proudly. “I love having you all here.”

“We love being here, Mom.” Sienna blows her a kiss then groans. “But really, get that food out of here. Ugh. So. Full.”

“What do you think?” Vivian looks at me. “Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you. I’m great. Can I help you with anything?”

She looks at Lincoln, then at his hand on my knee, then back to me. “Just make my baby boy happy and let me know if he gets out of line.”

“Her baby boy,” Ford mocks, grabbing Lincoln in some kind of head lock. “Aw, mommy’s baby.”

“You’re just jealous,” Lincoln laughs, somehow maneuvering out of Ford’s hold.

Ignoring her rowdy boys, Vivian lifts the tray again. “No one wants anything? Huxley? Want a cookie?”

“Are they those chocolate ones with the little candies in them?” he asks, setting down his game.

“Of course. They’re your favorite.”

He jumps to his feet and takes three. “Thank you, Vivian.”

“You are so welcome.”

Barrett reaches up and plucks a bunch of grapes off the tray before Vivian disappears into the kitchen again. “Look, Alison. Your favorite.”

She immediately turns as red as the pillow on her lap. Barrett holds them in front of her before whispering something in her ear. His hand wraps around her wrist as she giggles and refuses to make eye contact with anyone.

“No secrets,” Lincoln says to his brother. “What’s making her blush like that?”

“Trust me, it’s a great story,” Barrett grins like the cat that ate the canary. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

“Stop!” Sienna squeals, her hands over her ears. “I can only guess and I do not want that visual—no offense, Alison.”

Alison laughs, tossing the pillow at Barrett and heads towards the doorway. “I’m going to use the restroom.”

“I bet you are,” Barrett teases her.

Vivian comes back in again and stands by her husband. She seems completely unfazed by the noise level or mess strewn around the room. Shoes, jackets, cups, glasses, notepads and laptops are nearly covering the carpet. If I would’ve seen this picture before, I would’ve cringed.

But that was before I experienced it. I get why Vivian loves this so much. I could get used to it too.

“Lincoln,” Harris says to his son. “What day do you and Danielle go back?”

“First thing in the morning. As a matter of fact, we’ll probably be gone before you all get up.”

“Will you be home for Christmas?” Camilla asks. She gives me a sweet smile and I return it. “We have a huge cookie bake on Christmas Eve. We’d love to have you, Danielle.”

Lincoln squeezes my thigh, but I can’t look at him. I’m afraid of all the things I’ll see in his eyes and how I might reciprocate that.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” I say truthfully. “The cookie bake sounds fun though.”

“We’ll definitely try to be here,” Lincoln interjects. “You coming, Barrett?”

“Don’t even come if you aren’t engaged, Barrett,” Sienna says, sitting up cross-legged.

“Sienna!” Vivian chastises her.

“What? Alison isn’t in here. I’m not embarrassing her. I’m just saying, time to put a ring on it, brother.”

“I agree.” Camilla sits up too and shrugs. “Ring it, Barrett.”

“Does no one trust me?” he asks, feigning horror. “Besides, little ears are listening.”

Huxley smashes a cookie in his mouth with one hand, his other flying across the video screen on his lap.

“He’s not listening,” Camilla says. “At least tell me you have a ring and tell me it’s vintage.”

“No,” Sienna gasps, looking at her twin like she’s crazy.

“Modern, Barrett. Trust me. I have the degree in design.”

“Girls!” Vivian sighs. “Stop. I’m sure Barrett will figure out what’s right for them.”

Sienna rolls her eyes and then looks at me. “Just tell Lincoln when he goes to buy yours to call me. Not Camilla. You don’t want some old thing with a loose gem.”

My cheeks flush and I ignore Lincoln’s gaze from the side. He rubs his hand beneath the back of my shirt, caressing me. I lean into it, but still can’t look at him.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Vivian says, one hand on her hip. “I’m sorry, Danielle.”

I just laugh. “It’s fine. And for the record, I’m not big on jewelry.”

“So you are talking about getting engaged?” Sienna chirps.

“No,” I say quickly as Lincoln says, “Maybe.”

I look at him and he smirks. “I think it’s a fair topic,” Lincoln shrugs. “Wanna marry me?” he asks, the corner of his lip twitching. “I’m sure my mom and sisters can put something together by the time we leave.”

“Oh my God!” Camilla squeals. “Yes! Let us!”

“No,” I giggle, putting my hands in front of me. “We just met not that long ago. Let’s get to know each other and all that before you go marrying us off.”

Harris clears his throat. “I knew I liked you,” he says, taking one finger off his tumbler and pointing at me. “Level head. Smart. Keep this one, Lincoln.”

“Yeah, not like that one with the fishnets—” Sienna clamps her hand around her mouth.

Lincoln throws his head back and everyone in the room laughs. Even me because his reaction is funny. Whoever fishnet girl was, it’s clear she’s not here and was a joke when she was.

“Sorry,” Sienna cringes.

My hand is tugged as Lincoln stands. “On that note, we are going to bed. I’ll be down later if I can’t sleep. Otherwise, we’ll see you at Christmas.”

We exchange quick hugs and goodbyes with the room. I keep it as fast as possible because it’s obvious Lincoln wants to get out of here, and by the look in his eye, I do too.

Nearly dragging me up the stairs and into our room, I’m thrusted against the wall before I know what hit me. His gaze sears into mine, heat rolling off his body.

“I need you. Now.” It’s not a question, not a suggestion. It’s an order, one I’m all too happy to oblige.