Yes, I was sure.

  Yes, I realized exactly how much cocoa I was ordering.

  No, I didn’t have a chocolate fetish.

  Though I might develop one to cope after this Christmas season—and all that was coming with it.

  Which I was not thinking about today. I was officially declaring my brain a no-sex zone, since the rest of me was determined to wave the flag for my libido in one particular man‘s direction.

  The one who was now routinely invading my panties.

  With your very loud encouragement.

  I rolled my shoulders and removed some bookends shaped like Rudolph from the box. The front was Rudolph’s head with his glowing red nose and the companion was his furry rump. I decided I’d showcase them with some holiday cookbooks next to the checkout.

  The casserole section in one of the cookbooks caught my eye. Well, that looked delicious—and easy. I could whip some of that up in no time for—

  For Gary and I. We’d love it. And Gary didn’t require candles and fancy napkins. Or lacy bra and panty sets.

  He also didn’t eat onions and peppers, but whatever. I could improvise.

  Huffing out a breath, I checked the shipping app and found we had notifications that more packages had been delivered. Endless. I’d just head out back and grab them. The cold air would do me good.

  A woman couldn’t exist on excess amounts of caffeine alone.

  I grabbed my scarf off the hook and hurried out back, dodging customers like it was my job. I turned down the back hall, tightening my scarf in preparation for the surely brutal December wind outside.

  And walked into highly inappropriate behavior, especially for the workplace.

  A loud moan broke the stillness as I let the side exit door snick closed behind me. At first, I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. I mean, I was acquainted with people making out. But not at Happy Acres. This was a wholesome environment, except when Clay and I got frisky.

  These two were not wholesome. More like R-rated edging toward pornographic.

  The tall dude had flowing dark hair that was currently being mussed up by the woman enthusiastically kissing him. One of her hands was in his hair, the other was clenching his ass. An ass I didn’t mean to take notice of, since the man was my soon-to-be cousin-in-law.

  Besides, my kitty business was spoken for, at least in the manner of being occupied.

  Well, not right now. But it had been recently and would be again—

  Shut up, Rachel.

  I grinned that the voice admonishing me in my head wasn’t even my own. It was Clay’s.

  Though mental babble was preferable to watching my cousins make out. Well, Zoe was my cousin and Ian was her fiancé-slash-baby daddy, as evidenced by the baby in a snuggy strapped to his father’s chest.

  I cleared my throat. They continued on, unaware. The baby and I looked at each other with equal amounts of confusion and discomfort, though baby Elvis finally got pissed off enough to wail.

  I envied him his baby freedom. Why couldn’t I just throw my head back and scream when I was displeased?

  After a second wail along with a vigorous kick, he finally got his parents’ attention. Zoe drew back, blinking hazily, seemingly unsurprised to see me standing there. “Hey Rach. How’s it going?”

  “Not as good as it is for you, I’m guessing.” I lifted my eyebrows and she laughed, tugging her silver braid over one shoulder.

  “Sorry. With the munchkin, we have to take advantage of moments, wherever they come.”

  “And here I’d think the baby would steer you away from those moments.”

  Ian let out a hearty laugh. “You’d be wrong. It’s my fondest wish to keep Magic barefoot and—”

  “Also, have to take advantage of moments when I don’t want to stuff his size twelves in his mouth,” Zoe interjected with a too bright smile that made me wonder just how many times Ian had brought up more babies.

  Though I didn’t know him that well, what I did know told me it was probably pretty often. The man was relentlessly in love with his fiancée and seemed as hellbent to increase the size of his family as he was to keep taking over the world, one concert at a time.

  Maybe even more so.

  Last I’d heard, he’d turned down an opportunity to go on a mega world tour until his son was older. Which made him a rare man—and rare rockstar—indeed.

  I supposed I could understand what was so alluring about a world-famous man loving you so much that his career came second. Luckily, men like that were unicorns—horn optional—so I didn’t have to worry about encountering any of those.

  “You’ve met my pain in the butt hus—Ian,” Zoe corrected. “Keep forgetting he actually hasn’t put that ring on me yet.”

  “Actually, that would be your fault, Magic 8-Ball. You’re the one who has a problem with every season.”

  “I was waiting until…” She trailed off and frowned. “What was I waiting for?”

  “Yes, Ian and I have met,” I said before they could start arguing. With them, it was as likely as epic tongue battles in front of family and strangers alike. “I’m surprised he’s wielding his son instead of a guitar this time. I thought it was attached to his body.”

  “Oh, just you wait,” Ian said with a gleam in his disturbingly blue eyes. “The lads will be here soon enough.”

  Zoe answered my unspoken question. “Some of the LA contingent is visiting too. Simon and Nick are en route.”

  “And cousin Lila?”

  She nodded while Ian laughed into his baby’s cap of light curls, more like his mother’s hair than his father’s. “Cousin Lila reminds me of of a country song.”

  “Why are all the lads coming here?” I asked tightly. Didn’t we have enough going on? “So that we can have even more customers swarming through?”

  On cue, my heart kicked into a fast beat. More customers meant more hands needed on deck. More expectations. More stress.

  “Well, they are family, Rach.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I tightened my scarf until I feared imminent strangulation. “You’re not the one who has to serve all the people who congregate here to see them warble.”

  Ian looked affronted. “We do a fair bit better than warble. Sounds like you need a front row seat to our impromptu concert.”

  “It’s not impromptu if you’re planning it,” Zoe chided him, running her hand over Elvis’s head as he looked between his parents as if he were witnessing a pingpong match.

  Even at two, the kid was spot-on.

  “I’m British. I say what I want.”

  “Oh, is that your latest excuse?” Zoe shook her head. “Seriously, though, Rach, you should come ‘round this evening to catch the show.”

  Do I have any choice?

  I tried not to grimace. “Oh, thank you. I’d love to.”

  Zoe grinned. “Great. Why don’t we take a walk?” She gestured toward the door. “Since you were headed out anyway. Unless you’re in a hurry.”

  “I have packages waiting.”

  Zoe tugged on her bright purple gloves and grabbed my arm, urging me forward. “Awesome, I’ll help. He might want a bottle,” she said over her shoulder as she nudged me ahead of her out the door.

  Into a freaking snow squall. Crap.

  “I might want a bottle too,” I muttered.

  Zoe laughed. “You enjoy breast milk?”

  “I’d prefer something eighty proof, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that myself right now.”

  I glanced behind us, but Ian and his offspring had already disappeared into the welcoming warmth inside. “Are you sure he should be in charge of feeding Elvis?”

  “He is his father, you know.”

  “Right, but he seems distractible.”

  Zoe barked out a laugh. “Don’t let the affable outer shell fool you. He can focus like a laser when he’s got proper motivation.”

  And if I wasn’t mistaken, my cousin was blushing. That was enough about that subject.

  “So, you really are going to come tonight?”

  “I hope so.” Only after I’d answered did I realize the question I was replying to wasn’t the one my cousin had asked. Oh, it was the same words, but my sex-obsessed brain had immediately detoured into the gutter.

  I cleared my throat. “You mean to the concert?”

  Zoe gave me a strange look and nodded as she veered off to the stairs to start picking up boxes. There was a whole stack of them.

  “Yes, I’m coming.” I couldn’t get out of it now without it being a thing. And with family, it was just easier to suck it up and go rather than risk being the subject of the next family dinner.

  I’d been talked about enough in the past few months, I was sure. I didn’t need to provide any more fodder for my relatives to mull over while passing the caramel apple pie.

  Her smile edged on sinister to my manic mind. Whatever she said next would probably not be good. “You can bring a date.”

  Chapter 23

  Rachel

  Kissing Cousins

  I stared. “A what?”

  Zoe hefted three boxes and rose, puffing out a steady stream of frigid air. “A date. As in when you bring someone of your choice to an event and enjoy a nice time with or without a kiss or a grope.”

  I arched a brow in her direction. “Do you have any dates without those?”

  She tipped back her head, flopping the dangly yarn ball on the top of her hat out of her eyes. “I used to, pre-Ian. Now? No, I make out with that boy whenever I can. It helps make up for his foot-in-mouth-itis.”

  “So, you prefer filling his mouth in other ways.” Heat rushed into my face at the look she slid me, her lips tugging into a grin. “I didn’t mean like that. I just meant a kiss.”

  “You have dirty on the brain, girl. Either that means you’re in desperate need for some or you’re getting some on the regular with possible bonus rounds.”

  I mimed zipping my lips. “No secrets revealed here.”

  “Why? It’s not like anyone would mind you having a boyfriend. Or—oh, maybe a girlfriend?”

  It was a testament to the awesomeness of my family that my cousin thought either one would be just great. I had to smile despite my embarrassment. “No, neither. But perhaps someone who shakes my tree.”

  “Is that a new sex position? If so, let’s talk.” She bumped my hip as I grabbed the rest of the boxes.

  Laughing, I turned with them in my arms and realized we had no one to open the door for us. I was about to kick the door in my version of a knock when I heard an argument carrying on the wind from the adjacent parking lot. Back here, cars passed by on the way to Clay’s tree farm, and apparently, one couple had gotten lost.

  “Do you understand that we can get a tree delivered to our room? A whole fleet of them if necessary?”

  “I don’t want one delivered. I want to hand select it. Myself. With these babies.”

  “Oh, shit,” Zoe muttered. “Nick and Li are here.”

  “Cousin Lila? I haven’t seen her since—God, probably not since the wedding.” Out of the corner of my mouth, I asked, “So, they’re still married? I never guessed it would last.”

  “Fighting is their foreplay.”

  I lifted my brows. Hmm. “You wouldn’t know anything about that yourself, would you?”

  Zoe juggled her boxes. “Absolutely not. Hey Crandall,” she yelled at a truly ear-splitting decibel. “Stop working your jaw and get over here to open this door.”

  Lila marched forward before Nick could take a step, her long blond hair flying out from under her pink knit cap. She was halfway to us by the time Nick grasped he’d been summoned and chased after her.

  “Where’s your idiot husband?” he asked Zoe as he clomped up the steps behind his wife. “Sorry, not husband yet. What is it with the Kagan men? Either they have fake weddings or no weddings at all. I’m telling you now, if he offers to marry you in some island paradise where it won’t be legal, just kick him in the gonads.”

  Zoe tried to flip off Nick without losing her grip on the boxes. “I was the one delaying, not him. Why are you so worried who’s married anyway? Misery wants company?”

  Lila spared Zoe a look as she snatched two boxes off her stack then strode to the door and threw it open with a smile for me. “You look great, Rachel. Nice to see you.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Nick asked, grabbing the door after his wife went through it so Zoe and I could follow once he got through interrogating me.

  “You know who she is, Nicholas,” Lila said before I could speak. I was pretty rude by nature myself, especially when I didn’t temper my natural inclinations, but man, my cousin’s husband took it up half a dozen notches.

  “I do? Who the hell is she?”

  I gave him a flat stare. “I was at your wedding.”

  “Obviously, I don’t remember. Any more hints?”

  “She’s our cousin, jackass,” Zoe bit out, cramming her remaining box in Nick’s gut as she headed inside.

  He let out a satisfying oof as I trailed behind her. “Hope that didn’t hurt too much.” It was purely an accident I did the same thing before darting inside.

  “Another cousin? They’re coming out of the woodwork of this place.” Nick came up behind me and neatly plucked the boxes out of my arms. “Sorry. Didn’t mean any harm.”

  “You’re just an asshole?”

  He shrugged. “I suppose that’s an accurate description.”

  “Who wants to get his hands on a Christmas tree.” I lowered my voice. “I might be able to help you out there.”

  His surprisingly golden eyes fired with interest as he set down the boxes on a chair in the foyer. “Have one you’re looking to unload? Thanks, but I want to pick my own. Our own,” he amended. “My girls have specific wants.”

  “Oh, your girls do.” I nodded with mock seriousness. “Well, then, I won’t begin to presume I could offer help.”

  He drew me into an alcove, off the beaten path from the direction where his wife and Zoe had headed. “Do you have a hookup?”

  I bristled with indignation. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “Not that kind of hookup. I mean a tree hookup. As in a contact.”

  “I may.” I lifted my chin. “But if it’ll cause grief to my cousin, you’re on your own.”

  “Trust me, she’d rather I get my way then have to listen to me bitch.”

  “How does that work out for you?”

  “Pretty good. She’d tell you that herself. Also, we have a prenup.” From his wide grin, I was almost certain he was bullshitting me. My cousin would never sign a prenup again after her disastrous first marriage.

  “You’re a bad liar.”

  “So? It makes for a juicy story. And we’re never getting divorced in any case. She’s addicted to me. What can I say?” He flashed a smug grin as if he couldn’t imagine how any woman would not be magnetized by his sexual allure and rampant rudeness.

  He was very attractive, I’d give him that. But his personality was not exactly cute.

  “Don’t say anything. I regret mentioning anything to you. Lila is a smart woman and if she doesn’t want you to get a tree, she must have a good reason.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.” He waggled his brows. “What do you want more than anything?”

  I had no idea. Other than things Nick could not help me out with. “How about getting me out of going to your stupid concert?”

  I didn’t know why I said it. I’d have to go. Some part of me was in denial about how much work would be involved if we monetized the thing—aka did a non-mobile version of the CocoaBus as a refreshment stand—while the rest of me was suffering from family guilt.

  Nick blinked. Blinked again. Then he held out his hand to shake mine. “I’ve never met someone as rude as myself. It’s an honor doing business with you. Now take me to the trees.”

  “Nicholas,” Lila called, heading toward us with her blond twins at her side. They were all clutching piping hot drinks, probably cocoa judging from the drink mustaches the girls were sporting. Aunt Laverne had a cocoa setup in the café here and even served our signature drink. “Are you harassing my cousin?”

  “I would never. Avery, Charlie, c’mere.”

  The little girl in a bright blue coat trotted forward with her sister in red trailing right behind. Nick pulled brightly wrapped foil packets out of his jeans pocket that reminded me of oddly shaped condom wrappers until he opened the foil and dumped colorful marshmallows in their cups, making them squeal.

  “Thanks, Daddy.” They both jumped up and down and generally acted as if he’d bought them each a pony instead of miniature marshmallows.

  Lila shook her head. “Never fails. He always has some trick up his sleeve.” She narrowed her cornflower blue eyes, looking between us. “Rachel, don’t be fooled by him. He’s a con artist since way back.”

  “Why she married me,” Nick informed me.

  “I thought it was because she was addicted to you and you had a prenup?” I asked innocently.

  Nick pointed at me while he looked at his wife. “You didn’t warn me about this one. She’s devious.”

  Lila laughed and shook her head, before giving me a sideways hug. “No prenup. I stay married to him out of choice, God help us both.”

  I grinned as they continued to playfully spar while their cute-as-a-button, high-on-sugar daughters raced off toward the gift shop.

  Lila and Nick had a different energy as a couple than Ian and Zoe—mainly because Ian acted as if Zoe had hung the moon and he’d be happy to do her bidding until the end of time—but both couples were so clearly in sync and in love, despite any petty squabbles.

  And both couples had been together for a while, though Nick and Lila had years on Zoe and Ian. I wasn’t one to analyze love and romance, but it was interesting to note how different love could look.

  Although I was certain both my cousins wouldn’t hesitate to de-ball their men if necessary. So, maybe there were some similarities, at least when it came to the Ronson and Manning families.

  Where did I fit into all of these puzzle pieces? Obviously nowhere when it came to love, since Clay and I weren’t about any of that, but maybe it was possible to have no strings romance as a prelude to hot sex. Or as an afterlude, since we’d already had plenty.