Christian Parkinson's playboy lifestyle has taken an interesting turn when he met the sharp and witty Kylie Preston. She has something in her that other women lack - the guts to call him on his bullshit.
She's not the type he dates but Christian fin...
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Kylie
It was nice to see the brothers made up. I woke up later than my usual 6 A.M. and stayed in bed to do some reading because the drizzle outside from last night's storm is not completely an inconvenience. I stayed under the covers for hours. Looking back at the last time I had that privilege, it was decidedly a long time ago.
I tried not to step on a creaky board when I saw Christian and Matthew playing cards by the fireplace. They both had on sweaters with a reindeer on the front – holiday sweaters. The storm has past but the cold remained until morning.
"There you are." Christian looks my way as if sensing my gaze on him. "You had a nice, long beauty sleep?"
"I slept fine." I snorted, taking a seat on the couch.
Matthew graces me with a smile that crinkled his eyes adorably. "You hungry?"
"I guess."
"Good. We still had spaghetti from last night. Let me warm it up for you." Christian puts down his cards.
Matthew shakes his head at his brother. "You always do this when you're about to lose."
"For the record, I never win."
"I let you win sometimes." He picks up the cards and stack them all together before turning to me. "He sucks at cards."
I chuckled. "Good to know he sucks at some things."
"Hey, I'm good at something else." Christian stands up, easing a hand to his brother's head and ruffled his hair. "You want some Spaghetti, Matty?"
"I had to go for a run."
"It's still raining."
"I'll go when it stops raining then."
"Sure, thing. Your body is a temple," he says with an exaggerated gesture.
Matthew shakes his head smilingly. "Right."
He turns to me with a grin too wide for his face. "Come on. Let's fill up that belly."
I gave Matthew a little wave before sliding back to my feet. I couldn't help but notice his gaze constantly dropping to my Bumble Bee socks. "You like? I have two more pairs."
"They look comfortable." He tilts his head to the right.
"Is that a yes?"
His gaze goes bluer. "Yeah, maybe I wouldn't mind the comfort."
"All right, then."
"What about me? My feet are cold too," Christian looks down to me, his voice a tad whiny.
