Mac perched on the edge of the sofa, making sad eyes at the coffee table. Her laptop displayed a video chat window, and staring back at her with kill-me-now eyes was her best friend, Reid, who was far, far away in Invercargill. He and her other friend, Laura, were meant to be spending Christmas with them. But thanks to the ferry crossings once again being canceled, they were there and she was here. No matter how much Laura tried to put a cheerful spin on the situation with her mile-wide smile and LED-lighted reindeer antler headband.

“We haven’t missed a Christmas together for years,” Mac said. “It’s tradition.”

“It’s just another day, Mac,” Reid said.

But even on a laptop screen Mac spotted the telltale bunching of his jaw. The holidays were hardest for Reid. Since his mum died of breast cancer, he’d spent every Christmas with her and Laura. Though they weren’t related by blood, they were family just the same.

Reid slouched back into his armchair and propped one Santa’s elf slipper-clad foot on his knee. Tradition was Reid wearing the joke slippers Mac had bought for him three Christmases ago…or was it four? She forgot.

“At least I won’t have to see you in those ridiculous slippers all day tomorrow.”

Reid flicked his ankle up and down, and the little bell sewn to the end of the pointed slipper tinkled. “I’ll wear them for New Year’s instead.”

Laura leaned forward, antler headband flashing pulses of red light into the camera as she peered over her seasonal red-rimmed spectacles. “You and Joe are coming over for New Year’s, right?”

“We’ll be there,” Mac said. “Even if we have to swim the Foveaux Strait.”

The corner of Laura’s red-slicked lips kicked up. “Just don’t wear a bikini. You’ll freeze your tits—” She gave a toodle-oo wave, her gaze angling past Mac. “Oh, hi, Joe.”

A hand tugged the end of Mac’s ponytail and she jumped, then tilted her head back to see Joe’s upside down smile. His slightly strained smile, the one he used when locals would stop him in the street to discuss various unpleasant bodily functions.

“What’s the craic?” he asked. “And what do my fiancée’s knockers have to do with anything?”

“We were talking about Mac swimming the strait since we can’t get to you,” Laura said.

“Icy blue would suit MacKenna’s fair complexion.” Joe vaulted over the couch to sit beside Mac. “But I’d rather my love stays here and warms my bed.”

Laura made a finger-down-the-throat gesture. “We’ll survive without you. I thought we’d watch a Project Runway marathon and eat the two pavlovas we were going to bring over.”

“Then I vote Christmas Day is pants optional.” Reid shot Laura an arched look and hovered a hand over his belt.

Her eyes narrowed in return. “You are not sitting around in your boxer shorts, Reid Hudson. Roommate agreement, remember?”

“Then I’m not watching Heidi and Tim.”

She shoved his arm, not budging the man an inch, considering he was six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier. Reid just laughed and gently shoved her back.

“You kids bicker more than me and Kerry,” Joe said.

“Little sisters—what can you do?” Reid shrugged. “Wonder if I can ship her to the North Pole before tomorrow morning?”

The tension eased out of Mac’s chest. She’d miss them, they’d miss her, but Laura and Reid would make sure the other had a fun day tomorrow.

Joe gave her knee a squeeze and raised an eyebrow in a silent you good? question. She returned a subtle nod and his lip curved in a smile.

“Everyone happy, then?” he asked the laptop screen. “We done?”

Laura’s brow crinkled and she angled her head down, the reindeer antlers bobbing. “Done? But we haven’t talked about the—”

“Merry Christmas. Sláinte.” Joe slapped the laptop screen down, and in one smooth movement, turned, dragged her onto his lap, and claimed her mouth.

He kissed her, a too-much-brandy-in-the-eggnog kiss that made her head spin in delicious circles. His lips were still slightly chilled from the cooler air outside, but they warmed under hers, since she was soon burning up for him from the inside out. Cool fingers slid under her sweater and skimmed up her spine. Her bra clasp opened with a snap. Coming up for air, she arched back and set a restraining palm on his chest.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s the rush, Doc?”

“I’ve sent Kerry and Aaron to Russell’s for cranberry sauce,” he said. “Can’t have turkey without it.”

“We have two jars in the pantry.” Her gaze slitted as Joe’s eyes crinkled in the corners.

Those same cool fingers returned under Mac’s top and deftly finagled her bra out.

He tossed it on the back of the sofa. “Not anymore we don’t. I dumped the sauce out the window this morning.”

She wriggled forward on his lap to grind against him until his eyes crossed. Then she pushed her unfettered breasts against him and whispered in his ear, “Did you recycle those jars, baby?”

Joe somehow managed to gain his feet with her still clinging to him as tight as plastic wrap. “You know I did, you fine thing.”

The front door banged open and Kerry spilled into the room. She flicked them both a glance as she dumped her purse on the dining table. “Oh, grand—you’ve finished on your computer. Glad I didn’t interrupt.”

“That was a quick trip,” Mac said while unhooking her ankles from around Joe and sliding herself down his deliciously hard body to stand, still a little wobbly, upright. “Where’s Aaron?”

Joe angled himself behind her so the action down the front of his jeans wouldn’t be obvious to his sister. Mac was all too aware of that action and how she was missing out on it.

“And the cranberry sauce?” he asked.

Kerry flapped a hand in the direction of the door. “We never made it to the grocery store. Aaron’s still getting his ear talked off down the road by one of your neighbors. That nice mechanic man, Rob.” She shrugged out of her jacket and draped it over a chair. “He told us the restaurant’s freezer has packed up and everyone’s invited to share Christmas dinner at the hall. I decided to come back once they started discussing putting down another hangi tomorrow…”

Mid monologue, Kerry had turned toward them. Once her mouth stopped moving, her blue eyes gleamed as her gaze locked onto the couch back. “Shite. I am interrupting, aren’t I?”

Joe snatched up Mac’s bra and tried to stuff it into his pocket. Only he didn’t have a pocket and by the time he’d clued onto that fact, his face resembled one of the shiny red apple decorations on their Christmas tree.

Kerry held up her palms. “You two continue with your quickie, and I’ll, er, wait outside to intercept Aaron.”

A gust of wind rattled the cottage’s windows.

Crap. Hosting the holidays demanded a certain sacrificial politeness—Mac couldn’t very well kick her future sister-in-law out into the cold while she had her wicked way with Joe.

“I’ll go and get the sauce; I’m sure you and your big brother still have loads of catching up to do.” She half turned and groped around trying to snag her bra.

What her fingers touched on was as stiff as the underwire, but wasn’t at all thin or curved in a half-moon shape. Joe sucked in a ragged breath then dangled the black satin and lace over her shoulder.

She suppressed a grin, plucked the bra from his fingers, and folded it neatly. “He was practicing his techniques for next year’s Manly Man of the Year bra-removing contest. Siobhan won’t know what’s hit her when Joe’s nimble fingers get to work.”

Kerry’s eyes bulged. “You let him fiddle with some other woman’s knockers?”

“Jaysus,” Joe muttered and took a step backward. “Siobhan’s a mannequin. I’m not fiddling with anyone’s knockers but Mac’s.”

Kerry snickered. “I’m sure we’re all relieved to hear that. The boys especially.” She cocked her head at Mac. “Kyle and Luke are very appreciative of your chesticular assets and have threatened to disembowel Joe if he so much as looks at another woman.”

Mac winced. Apparently her accidental boob flash to Joe’s brothers a few months back hadn’t been contained to the Vegas hotel room.

“Appreciate them looking out for me,” she said with as much dignity as she could manage.

“They’re very fond of you.” Kerry shot a cheeky glance past Mac’s shoulder to where Mac assumed Joe still was. “Or at least, parts of you.”

“Not funny,” Joe said.

Before Joe spontaneously combusted, Mac slipped around the couch and headed to the door leading to their bedroom to address her braless state. She risked a glance over her shoulder as she reached the doorway. Kerry was grinning at Joe, who stood arms folded with a going to kick your arse glare.

“I think someone is getting cranky because a shag is now off the table,” Kerry said sweetly.

Mac’s lower belly gave a delicious shiver. Shagging on the dining room table…now that was a regular and fun part of their weekly activities. Joe’s gaze zipped to the dining table and then met hers. He gave her a smile that caused the warm shivers to spread lower into a throbbing ache.

Guests or no guests, Mac knew Joe would continue to plot out ways for them to indulge in some Christmas festivities. Naked festivities.