Chapter 22

Wills was coming from the kitchen. He was talking to someone.

Shit. He must have brought a coworker home. Well, it was the season of good will toward men, and there should be enough pizza for all of us.

“Okay, let’s go in the living room, put on the tree lights—”

I blew out a relieved breath. He hadn’t been there yet.

“—and…”

I scowled when I realize his voice was soft and low and filled with such tenderness. I’d never heard that tone in his voice before—it was either relaxed and casual or hoarse with passion when he was with me. A stab of jealousy ripped through me. Who had he brought to our home?

“We definitely need to get a rug that feels like this, Miss Su, so Poppa and Daddy can roll around on…”

Miss Su? Poppa and Daddy?

Wills came to a halt when he saw me. He was wearing the pants of the black silk lounging pajamas I’d given him for his birthday, but his torso was bare. So were his feet.