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Justin just shook his head and closed the door behind them as his brothers shook off the snow on their shoulders and walked toward the kitchen.

“Yum, cookies,” Tyler said as Justin walked in behind them. He clenched his fists and held his tongue so as not to say anything. What the hell was wrong with him? It wasn’t as if he minded sharing.

But, for the life of him, he didn’t want his brother to have a cookie, and he didn’t know why.

It was as if he was five years old again.

Brayden took a seat at the bar and opened beers for the three of them. Justin took his and waited to see what his brothers wanted.

“What are you bringing for Thanksgiving?” Brayden asked as he took a swallow.

“Seriously? You ventured out in the storm for that?” Justin wiped his forehead, surprised to find it clammy. Damn, what the hell was going on with him?

His brothers shared a look.

“What?” he growled.

“Nothing,” Tyler said in is smooth cop voice, the kind that he would use with a wounded crime victim.

“Sure. Tell me what’s up.”

“We’re just worried about you,” Brayden said as he set down his beer.

“Why? I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Tyler said.

Justin let out a breath and closed his eyes. “I’ve just been a little tired and then weird. It’s odd, but I’m fine.”

“You’re not turning into a ghost, are you?” Brayden asked. He didn’t crack a smile when he asked.

Considering their brother, Matt, had been a ghost for the past ten years, that question had been a serious one. Add in the fact that their soon-to-be sister-in-law was a witch and the supernatural presence in their town could be a reason to worry.

He hadn’t faded into the darkness, and he didn’t cast spells. So, he knew it wasn’t that.

“No, I’m all corporeal. But, thanks for caring,” he said dryly.

“We’re just worried about you,” Tyler said.

Justin nodded, feeling oddly touched. But, these were his macho brothers, so he couldn’t actually let them know. “Ah, thanks, buddy. Let’s go watch that new tear-jerker, hold hands, and I’ll get you a tampon.”

“Fuck you.” Tyler sneered then winked. “If anything, Matt may need one. Have you seen how lovey-dovey, starry-eyed whipped he is?”

Justin snorted. “So eloquent. But, yeah, Jordan makes him happy. Whatever.”

“Yeah, but does he have to be smiling all the damn time?” Tyler asked as he munched on a cookie.

Must not rip cookie from his hand.

“It’s because he’s getting laid,” Brayden interjected and took a bite of a cookie.

God, are they going to eat all of them?

“More than I can say for the three of us,” Justin said.

“Hey, speak for yourself,” Tyler said, his palm out. “I got laid this week. More than I can say about the two of you.”

“You’re a pig,” Bray said, a distant look on his face.

“No, I have sex with women who don’t like commitments. I don’t have sex every day, so back off.”

“If you’re so testy about it, maybe you should start thinking about settling down,” Justin said.

“What about Abby? Jordan’s friend? She’s nice, and I think Jordan wants to bring her into the family.”

Tyler looked confused for a moment then frowned. “Abby? No, not so much. But thanks.”

“Hey, she’s nice. What the fuck is your problem?”

“She’s the settling-down type, and I don’t want to settle down. Plus, she’s, you know, Abby.”

Brayden turned toward their brother, anger on his face. “Now what is that supposed to mean?”

Tyler looked at them both and blinked. “She’s just not my type.”

“Oh, you mean she isn’t a bimbo?” Justin asked

“Well, that’s just not nice. And why are you ganging up on me? Why don’t you settle down with Abby?”

Justin sighed. Because Abby doesn’t have a crush on me, dumbass. But, he couldn’t say that. Fuck, his brother was a careless bastard when it came to Abby, and he had no idea why.

But, that same idiot of a brother was right about one thing; Justin needed to get laid. He might not be as much of a ladies’ man as Tyler, but he still needed a woman.

His brothers said their goodbyes, and Justin was left alone in his empty home, thinking about women—and whether he should make another batch of cookies. He patted his eight-pack. He would have thought he’d have Santa’s bowlful of jelly by now, but, no, he hadn’t gained a pound from the dozens of cookies he’d inhaled in the past month.

Weird.

Justin sat in his armchair and watched the snowfall outside his window accumulating in large drifts. His phone beeped, and he looked down at the texts from each of his brothers saying they’d made it home. He must have been looking pretty bad if they had worried enough about him to venture out in the snow.

The holidays were coming, and he needed to get ready. Even though he didn’t enjoy Christmas as much as he had in years past, he still loved giving gifts. He knew what he wanted to get each of his family members, including Jordan; not something they’d necessarily need, but something that would spark a memory or bring a smile to their faces.

Thinking about Jordan made him remember that, other than his brothers and her, he really was alone. Maybe he needed a girlfriend.

Just the thought of hooking up with anyone in Holiday made him shake his head. There were only two women, other than Jordan, in town that even sparked his interest, and those two didn’t really spark it as much as make him feel as if they were family. Allison, the waitress at the town diner, was beautiful and had a great personality, but Brayden was in love with her, even if Brayden didn’t know it. And Abby was like a kid sister who, yes, may be hot, but there was no interest there. God, he hated his small town sometimes.

His phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. “Hello?”

“Hi! Justin?” a perky, unfamiliar voice asked.

“Uh, yeah. Who’s this?

“Oh, I’m Rina Brewer; you’re trainer. We’re going to need to meet soon.”

Justin blinked and looked at his phone.

Out of Range.

Uh, huh.

“Who are you again? What does this concern?”

“Oh!” She giggled. Actually fucking giggled. But, it sounded sweet and not annoying like giggling usually did. Okay, enough of the beer for him. “It concerns Santa, of course. He needs you.”

Justin coughed. “Funny. I don’t know you who are, but really, come up with better jokes next time. Though you do sound pretty, I’m hanging up now.”

He pressed End as the high-pitched voice yelled at him to stop. Whatever.

He rolled his neck and stretched. His skin felt tight, achy. Something was coming. What the hell?

For more read Santa’s Executive, out now.

Check out Carrie Ann’s website for more information. www.carrieannryan.com