Teddy Bear Sir (The Sloan Brothers Book 3) by Jo Willow

first step of many to come.  I had no plans of correcting them, because I didn’t know that they were wrong.  I hadn’t completely fucked it up with her yet, that was obvious by the kiss we’d just shared.  But whether or not we were still on relationship row?  Those waters ran deep and I was still shopping for waders.  The fact that I was shopping though, meant something.
     
    My mother asked the question that I’m sure was on everyone’s mind.
    “ Pierce, are you and Ayla an item son?”
    I didn’t hesitate or look at the woman in my arms.  I opened my mouth and blurted out exactly what was on my mind.
    “ Yep.  We’re an Us.  We agreed on it a couple of days ago.”
    My mother squealed and hugged my father, everyone else broke out in words of approval and chants of drinks to toast the new couple.  I was on cloud nine and blissed out.  Then I looked at Ayla.  Her right eyelid had begun to twitch and her eyes had turned to blue fire.  My grip loosened and she took that as her opportunity to take a step back.
    While everyone around us busied themselves with drinks, placing gifts under the tree, and finding new Christmas music, Ayla spoke at a volume only I could hear.
    "You are such a weiner Pierce.  I swear."
    She started to walk away, but there was no way I could let that lay there. Not after everything else, and quite frankly, she'd called me worse so that term of endearment had me puzzled. I put my hand on her arm to stop her from leaving my side.
    "A weiner?  What the hell does that mean?"
    She turned to me and narrowed her eyes.
    "Full of phony shit and not at all good for me."
    I turned away in anger and started to storm off, but not before I heard her mumble, "I'm still addicted to the damn things though".
    I turned my head to hide my smile before she saw it.
     
    I have no idea what happened between Anton and Melody, Ayla said that Anton came into their room and talked to Mel’, but it hadn’t gone well.  He basically told her that he loved her (truth), but he couldn’t trust her (cop out).  Ayla said that Melody accepted it with grace, but spent the night crying herself to sleep.  To say that the holiday was shaping up to be awkward, was an understatement.
     
    Christmas dawned bright and early (like it does) and I thought I was the first one up (like I usually am).  I showered, dressed, and bounced down the stairs, only to be greeted by the scent of coffee brewing in the kitchen.  It had to be mom.
    I rounded the corner prepared to give her a hug and was stopped in my tracks by Ayla who was making biscuits.  We stared at one another for a few long minutes, both of us struck dumb by the the inability to grasp the english language.  We’d been wrapped around one another in front of friends and family and now the ruse was slapping us in the face.  Were we back together?  Were we still angry?  Or should I say, was she still angry?
    With the firm knowledge that everything I said these days seemed to inch up the temperature under the thin ice I’d been skating on recently, I decided to use the old, “Silence is Golden” theory.  She cleared her throat and resumed rolling out her biscuit dough.
    “ Coffee’s done if you want a cup.  It’s fresh, I just made it.  Pour me a cup too if you don’t mind.”
    Mind?  I’d have driven the fifty miles to the nearest Starbucks if it meant she was talking to me in a friendly tone again.
    I poured the coffee, placing one sugar and some cream in hers, just the way she liked it.  She watched me and smiled when I placed it beside her.
    I sat down at the breakfast bar and watched her work.
    “ Can I do anything to help you?  Mom’s gonna be thrilled to death that you’ve got a head start on it.”
    She paused to take a sip and closed her eyes in appreciation.  That’s when I noticed the dark circles under her eyes.  Ayla hadn’t been sleeping any better than I had.  She opened her eyes and started cutting biscuits with the juice