Inside was another story. The tree was lit up and the ornaments were twinkling, giving the room a holiday feel that the hallway had lacked.
When Dylan moved to flick on the light, Claire intercepted his hand. “No, don’t,” she urged. “Look how pretty the room is with just the light of the tree.”
He couldn’t deny there was something magical about it. The red and silver ornaments shone like little gems, the glow from the strings of light creating a romantic ambience.
“You guys want some coffee?” Aidan asked.
“God, yes,” Dylan answered. “I’m feeling drowsy as hell from all that turkey.”
“None for me. I don’t want to be up all night,” Claire said. “But…hey, do you have any hot chocolate?”
With an indulgent smile, Aidan leaned in and brushed a kiss over her cheek. “I’ll see what I can do.”
As Aidan headed for the kitchen, Dylan led Claire over to the couch and pulled her down beside him. He wrapped his arm around her and planted a kiss atop her head, inhaling the sweet lavender scent of her hair.
“I’ve been wanting to hold you all night,” he said gruffly. “I thought I would explode from not touching you.”
She nestled closer, her loose auburn tresses tickling his neck. “Me too.”
He ran his fingers up and down her arm, his calluses scraping along the soft wool of her green sweater. “I hope Savannah didn’t upset you.”
“Naah, like I said, she was just looking out for Aidan. I totally understood. And by the end of the night, I kinda warmed up to her. She’s pretty hilarious. And I adored Jen. She’s so nice.” Claire paused. “And beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone that good-looking before.”
Dylan shrugged. “She’s okay.”
Ha. Fine, so he was lying through his teeth—Jen was drop-dead gorgeous. But he was scared that if he acknowledged her beauty, Claire might pick up on the fact that he knew Jen as carnally as Aidan knew Savannah, and no way did he want to see Claire’s look of cloudy displeasure directed at him.
Unfortunately, he underestimated her. He was no mind reader, but clearly she was.
“Oh, for the love of God,” she groaned. “You too?”
“Me too what?” he asked innocently.
“’She’s okay?’” Claire mimicked. “Dylan, that girl is more than okay. She’s movie-star beautiful. Argh. You totally slept with her, didn’t you? And let me guess, Cash was there too.”
He sighed. “I’m afraid so.”
A note of challenge crept into her voice. “Out of curiosity, who else at that dinner have you slept with?”
“No one but Jen,” he assured her. “And Cash. Well, kind of.”
“Kind of?” She looked amused now.
“I blew him.”
After a beat, Claire burst out laughing. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
“To a fault.” He smiled. “But I promise you, I’ve only been with Jen and Cash. And Aid has only been with Savannah.”
“Good.”
She placed a possessive hand on his thigh, eliciting a rush of satisfaction. Damn, he loved that Claire was staking her claim.
It really had been pure torture not being able to touch her tonight. Every time he’d looked at her, he’d had to battle the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but he hadn’t wanted to embarrass her in front of the gang. His friends would never be openly rude or judgmental, or probably even care that Dylan was with her, but he couldn’t deny that Claire jumping into bed with her ex-fiancé’s brother so soon after the break-up didn’t look great.
The funny thing was, the fact that Claire had almost married Chris didn’t bother him in the slightest anymore. No, what bothered him was that he wasn’t bothered by it. Because…why the hell not? His brother had lived with this woman for more than a year, had nearly made her his wife, for fuck’s sake. So why didn’t he feel like he was betraying Chris? Because his brother was a jerk? Because he’d known from day one that Claire wasn’t right for Chris? All of the above?
Aidan returned to the room with a tray of steaming mugs, officially putting an end to Dylan’s internal self-examination.
“Hot chocolate for the lady.” Aidan handed Claire her mug. “And coffee for the gentleman.”
Dylan gratefully accepted the coffee and blew on the hot liquid to cool it. As Aidan settled in the armchair, Claire glanced over at the small stack of gifts beneath the tree.
“So when are we opening presents?” she asked. “My parents and I usually do it on Christmas morning, but I know some people like to do the whole gift thing tonight.”
“My dad and I do it tonight,” Aidan said in a gruff voice. “When he doesn’t bail on the holidays, that is.”
“At my house we do both,” Dylan told them. “We each open one present on Christmas Eve, and the rest in the morning.”
“Oooh, I like that idea,” Claire said. “Can we all open one tonight?”
He and Aidan both shrugged as if to say, “Why not?”
Beaming, she hopped off the couch and made a beeline for the tree. “Can I pick which ones you open?”