“Did you guys sleep well?” Mrs. Bruno asks when we walk into the kitchen. She’s holding a coffee mug near her lips and trying to hide her devious smile

“Great.” Bruno looks down at me and squeezes my hand.

“Yeah, great.” I smile and bounce from foot to foot because I know we weren’t as quiet as I thought.

“Sounded like it,” she mutters before lifting the mug to her lips.

“So what are you kids doing today?” Mr. Bruno asks, sitting in his boxers and reading the newspaper.

“Um,” I mumble and try not to stare at his half-naked father.

“Shit, Pop. Can’t you wear pants, at least?”

He sets down the newspaper and glares at Bruno. “Why? Please, my swimsuit shows more.” Mr. Bruno laughs, lifting the paper in front of his face.

“Thank fuck it’s snowing,” Bruno mutters, his eyes darting to the ceiling.

“Heard that. Hot tub, baby.” His father chuckles behind the paper and shakes it a little for effect.

“Christ,” Bruno hisses.

“It’s okay.” I squeeze his hand and smile. “It’s his house. I’m not bothered by it.”

Gabby comes skipping into the kitchen. “Good morning, family.” She heads straight to the fridge, ignoring us before she buries her face inside and searches for something.

“Top shelf,” Mrs. Bruno yells over her shoulder and then looks at us. “She’s into that soy shit.” She makes a face and pretends to gag.

“Coffee?” Bruno asks me, deciding to ignore everyone in the room.

I follow him around the kitchen island, trying not to stare at Mr. Bruno anymore. “I’d love a cup.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he slides the coffee cups in front of the pot.

I lean against the counter and face his family. “Don’t be.” I don’t care how quirky and foulmouthed they are; I like them.

“What do you want to do today?” he asks me, filling our mugs before sliding one in front of me to add my sugar and milk.

“I don’t care.”

“Oh no,” Mrs. Bruno chimes in, eavesdropping on our conversation. “It’s Christmas Eve. You know what that means.”

Bruno hangs his head and sighs. “No, Mom. We’re doing our own thing today. Callie doesn’t—”

“I’m game for anything.” I laugh and plop two spoonfuls of sugar into my mug. “What’s the plan?” I ask as I stir my cup of heaven.

“Fuckin’ women,” Bruno mumbles, tapping his spoon on the rim of his mug and feigning annoyance.

“Well.” She pushes her chair back and stands. “We have a tradition. Today, we cut down our tree and decorate it as a family. Always have and always will, as long as I’m alive.”

“Sounds like fun,” I say behind my mug. Never in my life have I helped cut down a tree. My parents opted for the fake, plastic trees when I was growing up.

“What a nightmare.”

I shoot Bruno a look like I’ve seen Lee give him a time or two to silence him. “Hush.”

“Then we’ll make dinner, maybe sing Christmas carols, and go down to the church for mass.”

Bruno crosses one arm over his chest and holds the mug in front of his face. “Um, Mom, I’m not going into town.”

“Why?” She glares at him with her hands on her hips.

I lean over so only he can hear me. “Just go. Make her happy,” I tell him and rest my hand on his arm. “I’d give anything to make my mom happy one more time.”

“Fine, Mom. We’ll spend the day with the family.” His face tightens as if he’s in pain. “Even church.”

I smile and his mom claps her hands. “Yes!” she cheers.

“Gabby, go get your brother’s ass up. It’s time to get a tree,” she yells while walking toward the sink with her empty coffee cup she grabbed from the table.

Gabby sets her half-drunk soymilk on the counter and rolls her eyes. “Mom, I’m right here. You don’t have to yell.”

“Just go get Lucca and zip it.”

Gabby storms off, taking the steps two at a time. Her heavy footsteps echo in the kitchen. “Lazy ass. Get your ass up. It’s tree time.”

Lucca’s voice is muffled when he yells at Gabby.

“Get up or Rocco’s coming to wake your ass up.”

A loud thud sounds before frantic feet move around the room above us. I look up at Bruno and he smiles widely. “Smart kid.”

“You’re a bully,” I tell him and purse my lips.

His jaw ticks, but a smile spreads across his face. “He’s my brother. Someone has to harass him.”

“That’s not your job.”

“Yeah. It is. He doesn’t seem to be lacking in cockiness, for all the shit I put him through.”

“True.”

“Okay, you two,” his mom tells us and grabs the mugs from our hands. “Go get ready. We have a tree to chop down.”

Bruno gives me a look as I reach for my cup, not ready to relinquish my cup of java. “Okay,” I grumble with a fake smile.

“It’s your fault,” he whispers when we walk out of the kitchen and stand at the foot of the stairway.

“My fault?” I ask, placing a hand on my chest.

“I tried to get us out of it, but you just had to please my mom.”

“Oh, shut it. We’re cutting down a tree.” I stick my fingers into his chest and narrow my eyes. “And you’re going to like it.”

He lifts me up, tosses my body over his shoulder, and runs up the steps while I scream bloody murder. He smacks my ass and laughs. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever,” he proclaims when he throws me on the bed and climbs on top of me.

“Oh no, you don’t,” I tell him and try to push him off, but I fail.

“You want this,” he whispers and pushes his cock against me.

“I do,” I admit.

“After the tree.” He kisses my lips before jumping off the bed in one quick movement.

“But—”

“You picked cutting down a tree, and that’s what you’re getting.” He grabs my legs and pulls me off the bed before carrying me to the bathroom. “If you beg, maybe I’ll let you come while we shower.”

Excitement floods me. “Please,” I beg, my voice sugary sweet.

“Please, what?” he asks, holding my hips and pushing me into the en suite bathroom.

“I want your Yule log, Bruno.” I laugh as he closes the door.

Bruno doesn’t just give me one orgasm while we shower, but two. This is indeed turning out to be the best Christmas in longer than I can remember.