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A crash sounds from the living room.

“Destroying Christmas.”

“I heard that,” Dante calls.

“You were meant to.”

I look at Callum.

“Why are you acting suspicious?”

“I’m always suspicious.”

“No. You’re usually homicidal. This is different.”

His thumb moves beneath the hem of my dress.

I slap his hand.

“Answer me.”

“Nothing is happening.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I don’t lie.”

“You told Dante the ladder was secure.”

“It was secure before he climbed it incorrectly.”

“I was hanging the mistletoe,” Dante shouts.

“You were wearing the garland as a thong,” Callum answers.

“It was festive.”

Dante appears in the kitchen doorway. Gold tinsel hangs around his neck. His black T-shirt is covered in glitter, and a plastic sprig of mistletoe is tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He sees me sitting on the counter. His gaze immediately drops to my bare thighs. That leaves very little to the imagination.

“What do we have here?”

“Callum kidnapped me on the staircase.”

“Again?”

“I was carrying her.”

“Against my will.”

Callum looks at me.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Dante grins.

“Your argument has collapsed.”