Chloe

Chloe had showered and washed up for bed and Margot still hadn't returned from her wintery walk with Owen. Not that Chloe could blame her sister. She remembered the feeling of being smitten all too well. If it had been Brady asking Chloe to take a walk through the winter wonderland of Christmas lights on the farm she would've spent all night out there not caring one bit if she couldn't feel her fingers and toes afterwards.

Brady's kisses had always been enough to keep her warm.

Despite her best efforts, tears trickled down Chloe's cheek as she thought of him. Wrong for her or not, she couldn’t help missing him.

How was it that her house was bursting at the seams yet she still somehow felt alone?

There will be time to talk to Margot tomorrow, Chloe promised herself. And then she shut her eyes and welcomed sleep.

Ethan

It was nearly midnight when Ethan was awoken by his brother sneaking back into the bedroom. If he thought he was being quiet, it was a joke.

“You’d make a terrible spy,” Ethan muttered as he listened to Owen climb into the creaky trundle bed next to his.

“Oh shut up, Watson.”

Ethan smirked despite his bad mood. “You know, I don’t remember ever agreeing that you got to be Sherlock.”

Owen laughed. “I’m always Sherlock.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I’m the charming, handsome one.”

Ethan popped up on his elbow. “What does that make me?”

“The brooding, intelligent one, my dear Watson,” Owen replied in a terrible British accent.

Ethan flopped back down onto the uncomfortable bed. “I’m going to get you back for this, you know?”

“For what? Inviting you to a nice Christmas where we can feel what it’s like to be part of a normal family for a change?”

“They’re not family,” Ethan muttered.

“Not yet.”

Ethan sat up again. “What does that mean?”

Owen ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Nothing. It’s just . . . would it kill you to try and enjoy a little holiday spirit?”

“Maybe I don’t want to enjoy anything,” Ethan said quietly, surprised at the truth in his words.

“Maybe that’s your problem, E,” Owen said gently. “You’ve gotta stop grieving and let yourself find some happiness, otherwise life’s not worth living.”

“Yes, screwing your grief away is a much healthier option.”

Owen’s hands hauled Ethan out of bed so quickly he yelped. “Watch what you say about my girlfriend, brother.”

Ethan shook free of Owen’s grasp. “Jesus, Owen. It was a joke.” Though really it wasn’t. Owen had a habit of losing himself in women whenever he needed a distraction. And since their mother died, there had been a long line of distractions. But Margot was the only one who’d ever stuck around this long, or been brave enough to invite him home.

“Well, I’m not joking,” Owen growled. “Margot’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, so don’t screw this up, okay. I’m in love with her.”

“That’s what you said about the last one,” Ethan muttered, startled by the ferocity in his tone.

“This time is different,” Owen replied, his voice firm.

“Sure,” Ethan replied.

“I’m serious, E. I want to make a good impression on Margot’s family, so no more saying awkward shit that makes everyone uncomfortable.”

“Oh, you mean you want me to lie to them? That’s always a great way to make an impression.”

“You don’t have to lie, but you don’t have to lay everything out in the open either.”

“Are you referring to dinner?” Ethan asked.

“You know I am.”

“You know where I stand on that,” Ethan replied, defending his comment about not being invited to their family Christmas. Ethan didn’t believe in sugar-coating things. He was unfortunately like his father in that respect. “If Margot and her family can’t handle the truth then maybe you shouldn’t be with her.”

“No wonder you’re single, E. You might as well wear a sign around your neck that screams, ‘bitter and damaged, with a side of mommy issues’.”

Ethan stood up so swiftly he barely had time to control his clenched fists. He had an urge to punch something and if he didn’t get out of this tiny bedroom soon, that something was going to be Owen’s face.

He stomped to the hall and slammed the door behind him.

Chloe

It was just after midnight when Chloe awoke to a loud bang. She’d been sleeping soundly, but she had no idea how with the decibel of Margot’s snoring. Ugh. How had she forgotten that Margot snored like a lumberjack?

This was going to be a rough ten days.

Chloe gave it her best effort, but she eventually gave up hope of falling back to sleep. Staring at the ceiling was doing her no good. Even counting her glow-in-the-dark stars couldn’t help her mind from wandering back to her insensitive comment at the dinner table. Why the hell had she asked about Owen and Ethan’s family? She wasn’t trying to be rude. She just couldn’t take the heat of Ethan’s smoldering gaze. It was like looking into the eyes of a ghost—beautiful and haunting.

But worse than the guilt Chloe felt for putting the boys on the spot about crashing Christmas was the wounded look she’d seen in their eyes. What kind of family didn’t invite their own children to spend the holidays with them?

Chloe knew better than to ask. Putting her foot in her mouth once was enough for one holiday. She wanted to let it go, but the longer she lay in bed the more she wondered what their story was. It was like she’d read the first chapter of an enticing mystery novel and then someone had snatched it away. Her inquisitive mind couldn’t let it go. And the ideas her over-active imagination cooked up weren’t going to let her get to sleep any time soon.

What if her sister had brought home serial killers that only murdered during Christmas? Far fetched, but plausible . . . Why else would they not be invited to their own family Christmas?

Chloe groaned and climbed out of bed. She decided to give up on sleep. Her mind was much too alert. Reading ahead on her course work for the fall would be a much better use of her time. She’d gotten into Columbia’s nursing program and could use as much time as she could get to prepare for the intensive major. Anticipation filled her chest as she realized this would be the perfect time to take advantage of the quiet house and get some work done. She could curl up in front of the fireplace with some hot cocoa right now and start her prerequisite reading. God knew she wouldn’t have a chance to do it tomorrow now that Margot was home.

With her heart set on a warm mug of heavenly chocolate, Chloe pulled on her bathrobe, stepped into her slippers, grabbed a laptop, her glasses and scooped Darcy off the bed. The little dog groaned in protest when she placed him on his feet. “Come on, boy. I’ll give you another treat.”

Darcy’s ears perked up at the sound of his favorite word and he raced out of the room ahead of Chloe. It sounded like he was taking the stairs two at a time. Chloe grinned, shaking her head as she walked into the hall. She’d never known a dog so obsessed with treats. Although, Chloe felt the same way about hot cocoa so she couldn’t really blame him. She had about a dozen different flavors in the pantry.

Distracted by thoughts of which cocoa to try first she didn’t see the shadow coming from the bathroom until it was too late. Chloe smacked into a hard, cold chest and stumbled backwards. She would’ve fallen on her ass if a pair of solid arms hadn’t wrapped around her like a pair of vice grips.

A tiny yelp escaped Chloe as she was crushed to an impeccably sculpted chest. She couldn’t help noticing his anatomical perfection. Nor could she help breathing in the intoxicating college boy smell that clung to his skin. And the feel of his heart as it pounded against her cheek was impressive enough to stop time.

When Chloe caught her breath the world unfroze again. She stumbled away from the cocoon of warmth she’d been wrapped in. Disappointment seized her when she looked into the startled green eyes of Ethan, or was it Owen? It was hard to tell with her glasses mashed into her face. Oh God, don’t let it be Owen.

She did not need to be having these feelings about her sister’s boyfriend. Chloe had enough boy trouble as it was. “Sorry,” she mumbled, backing away.

“Are you alright?” he asked, cautiously.

Definitely Ethan. His steely tone made her sure of it. “Fine,” she muttered fixing her glasses.

“Do you always wear glasses?” he asked.

What a strange question. “Only when I read.”

Ethan gave her a crooked grin. “I like them.”

Chloe frowned. “Ethan, right?”

He nodded and the knot in Chloe’s stomach eased.

“Good, because if you were Owen I was going to have a talk with my sister about dating guys who flirt with her little sister.”

His dark eyebrows knitted together. “You’re not that little, and who says I’m flirting?”

Chloe’s cheeks instantly flamed. “No one—I mean—I thought . . .” Stop talking, Chloe! But for some reason she couldn’t. It was like his gorgeousness fried her neurons or made them work backwards so only half coherent verbal diarrhea just spewed from her mouth.

Ethan gave her half a grin, amused for some reason.

“You should really put a shirt on,” Chloe blurted out, then spun on her heels and raced down the hall.