I WANT TO BE PISSED.
Part of me is.
But a bigger part of me realizes that this is my own fault. I should have expected this.
You dumbass. You agreed that McNeill could be in charge of this.
And I will never really be able to explain why I thought letting Crew be in charge of our transportation for the three family Christmases that are going to take us from Illinois to Indiana and then back to Illinois was fine.
Maybe because the guy is a fucking professional athlete who travels in luxury all the time? Whether it’s the private planes or the luxury buses the team uses, or the town car and SUV that we use when the four of us go out, or the damned sports car he personally drives, Crew McNeill knows expensive, comfortable, and good-looking modes of transport.
So, I gave Andrew the holiday off. Of course, I did. I’m not a monster. I’m not going to make the guy drive our asses around to these fucking Christmases. And when Crew said he knew the perfect thing for us to take on the road trip, I’d said fine.
Of course, Danielle is also to blame.
She wants to give Crew more responsibility. She wants me to show that I trust him. Which, okay, is a little fair. But they’d proposed the idea of Crew being in charge of transportation while they’d been decorating Christmas cookies four days ago, and I’d been…distracted.
Because Crew and Danielle, of course, don’t frost Christmas cookies like normal people.
Oh no. Hughes had baked five dozen cookies—for fuck’s sake—and then Crew and Danielle had mixed up eight different colors of frosting, had at least six different decorating tips, and had bought at least ten different kinds of sprinkles.
And then Crew had turned it into naked cookie decorating.
And our Cookie had ended up with frosting and sprinkles all over her sweet body, and Crew had “needed” help eating her up.
That’s when they’d sprung this idea on me.
So, no, I can’t be blamed for thinking it was fine. Everything had been very fine at the moment.
Which is why I am now standing on the sidewalk outside my building in downtown Chicago, where I paid over ten million dollars for the penthouse, with my suitcase at my feet, staring at the enormous blue and white RV parked at the curb with Crew McNeill standing in the doorway with a huge grin.
“Let’s go!” he calls to us. “Lori McNeill’s brunch waits for no one!”
“Why are you driving Cousin Eddie’s RV?” I demand.
Crew’s face brightens even more, and he jumps from the top step to the sidewalk. “You know Christmas Vacation and Cousin Eddie?” He seems delighted.
I cross my arms. This RV looks almost exactly like the one from the iconic movie.
“I don’t live under a rock,” I tell him. For fuck’s sake, I was a kid when that movie came out. Of course, I know it. He really does think I’m a stodgy old man. I love proving him wrong.
Crew is shaking his head as he approaches. “Every time I think you’re just a jackass I have to put up with for the love of my life, you pull something out that makes me think you’re actually a human being, Armstrong.” He comes to stand beside me. He puts his hands on his hips, facing the RV. “Isn’t it great?”
“This is the exact opposite of great, McNeill. There’s no way we’re taking that thing on this trip.”
“Are you kidding?” he asks, looking at me aghast. “My dad is going to flip over this. He’s going to quote so many lines from that movie, and he’s going to want me to record him doing it in front of this thing! And I know Dani’s dad is going to love it. Maybe Michael’s too.”
And what a fantastic way to remind me that I could be Danielle and Crew’s father.
I scrub a hand over my face. Michael has taken Danielle’s bag and stored it, so she comes to stand with us. She links her arm with mine, cuddling close. “My dad will get a kick out of this. He loves that movie.”
“Where the fuck did you even get this?” I ask McNeill. I know I’m going to lose this argument.
I’ve lost more arguments since falling in love with this woman than in the rest of my adult life put together. I sigh.
“My buddy from college,” Crew says. “His name is Eddie, and he’s always dreamed of having this RV. He’s a little sensitive about the fact that this is a 1971 Ford Condor rather than a 1972 like in the movie, but he repainted it and everything, and we assured him it’s a really good replica. Even though this one doesn’t have the rust and shit.” Crew chuckles. “He was going to paint parts of it brown to look like it. We talked him out of it.”
“Small miracles,” I grumble.
“So I paid Eddie a couple thousand to let us borrow it to go to Indiana and everywhere this year,” Crew says. “I want to make a good first impression.”
I roll my eyes. Of course, McNeill would think this was a good first impression.
He claps me on the shoulder. “Let’s get going. It’s going to be slower going in this.” He takes Danielle’s hand and tugs her with him.
And he paid someone to use this thing? Jesus.
“Where would you like these, sir?”
I turn to find my doorman, Christopher, holding two of the biggest poinsettias he’s ever seen. I know, because he told me so when they were delivered. The other doorman, Pete, is holding a third, awaiting my direction.
I sigh and then gesture toward the RV. “Inside. Somewhere.”
“See?” Crew calls from the doorway of the monstrosity. “A regular SUV would have never had enough room for all of us, our suitcases, and those damned plants.”
I’d decided to show up at each house with a poinsettia. So sue me.
“Not to mention, we’re gonna need room to stuff Dani’s stockings later,” Crew says, giving our girl a big wink as he climbs into the driver’s seat.
She giggles, and I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Sex, Nate,” Crew deadpans. “I’m talking about sex.”
I take a deep breath, then blow it out. “You think we’re having sex in this thing?”
“Well, we’re not going to be able to at Dani’s mom and dad’s,” Crew says as he starts the engine. “She gets kind of loud.” He grins up into the rearview mirror at her. “And ball gags feel like a New Year’s thing.”
“Oh my God!” Danielle exclaims. But she’s not protesting.
My dick gets a little hard. Dammit, these two teasing never fails to do that to me.
Or Hughes. He’s leaned over, whispering something in Danielle’s ear that has her flushing a deeper red. But smiling and nodding.
“You sittin’ up front with me?” Crew asks me.
I’m just standing inside the doorway, not in the front or the back.
I glance at the passenger seat, then at the seats in back.
“Sit with me,” Danielle says to me quickly.
She knows I’m grinding my teeth together over this whole thing. She holds a hand out to me, and I instantly feel a little tension leave my shoulders.
“I’ll sit up with Crew,” Michael offers, standing and moving to the front.
I exhale and take his seat, linking my fingers with Danielle’s.
“Don’t worry,” she says with a smile. “Lori makes a great brunch, and her mimosas are really strong.”
I huff out a laugh. “I need more than a little champagne.”
“Well, if those aren’t enough, I know where the liquor cabinet is,” she says.
That’s right. She’s been friends with his sister since college. Danielle has been to Crew’s parents’ house before.
Just as that thought occurs, Danielle’s phone dings with a text. She reads it, grins, and calls, “Luna’s waiting for us outside the shop.”
Crew’s sister—Danielle’s best friend and business partner—is riding with us to their parents’ house, where we’ll leave her when we head to Indiana and Danielle’s family’s Christmas.
I take a deep breath. Let the family Christmas chaos begin.
