Page 10 of Thresholds

Groaning,I stood in the doorway to Shannon's office, coffee in one hand, bag of breakfast burritos in theother.

Sam came up beside me, offering his own groan at the cramped space before us. "You know," he started, speaking to no one in particular, "we have conferencerooms."

"Three of them," Matt said from his seat against the wall. He must've arrived early to claim one of the two available chairs. That fucker. "I counted this morning. Just to be sure I hadn't imaginedthem."

"It's funny that you bring it up," I replied, snagging one of the milk crates stacked near the door. "Since your ass won't be branded with a diamond pattern and 'Hood Milk'tonight."

This was the last meeting before our holiday hiatus, and everyone was ready for vacation. Everyone except Shannon. She was insistent on doingall the worktoday, and wasn't setting us free until she'd accomplished everything on her mile-long agenda for thismeeting.

Shannon tapped her pen against the desk in a furious rhythm. "Shall we relocate? That's only going to take ten minutesand—"

"No," wailed Tom. "We'll power through. Branded asses andall."

"Says the guy with a flight to Vancouver waiting for him," Andy murmured. She was tucked into the far corner, sitting cross-legged on thefloor.

"You're damn right," he replied. "I'm getting out of town even if I have to snowshoethere."

Aside from my oldest sister, the entire crew was counting down the seconds. My brothers and I had an afternoon of shopping planned, and we were preparing for that the way any fool who left it all until the last minute should: with alcoholic fortification. The premise was beer, bourbon, and burgers, and once we'd consumed all of that, we'd set forth in search of gifts for the women who ownedus.

There was only one problem with that premise as it pertained to me. Alex and I had agreed upon an impossible pact. A homemade holiday gift pact. Not only would shopping violate the terms of this pact, but I didn't know what to select for her even if I could buysomething.

So, here I was, fucking up our first Christmas together. Just another day in theshambles.

"Can we begin?" Patrick asked. He was perched on the opposite side of Shannon's desk, looking as unhappy as the rest of us. "Shannon is comfortable in here. The next time you're nine months pregnant, Sam, we'll convene wherever you wish. Until then, shut the fuckup."

"Now that's a fun challenge," Tom said under hisbreath.

"Hey, Andy," I called, leaning over to catch her eye. "Alex invited Stremmel, that asshole who lives in Nick's old apartment, to the party tomorrow night. We saw him in the hallway this morning and I think she felt obligated." I jerked a shoulder, doing my best to express that I wasn't part of the decision-makingprocess.

"Is Magnolia coming?" Patrick asked. "I wanted to talk to her about someprojects."

"How quickly the roof garden tide turns,” Sammuttered.

"No, she has family events," I said to Patrick. I shifted back to Andy. "If inviting Stremmel is a problem just say it, and I'll tell that party-crashing bastard to find his own holiday soireesomewhere—"

"Nope," she replied, flipping the pages of her notebook and marking an entry. "Nick invited the other doctor in their building, Hartshorn, so it's fine. I like Hartshorn. I just need a bigger paellapan."

"Are you ever sleeping in your bed again?" Sam asked, nudging myelbow.

"There's a new home goods shop in Kendall Square," Tom said to Andy. "Really nice selection. You might want to check that out if you're looking for top-notchauthenticity."

I ignored the food nerd conversation flying between Andy and Tom, and asked Sam, "Why would I do that when I could have sex with my girlfriendinstead?"

"He makes a good point," Matt said under hisbreath.

"We haven't seen you in a while," Sam said. "Alex is welcome at the firehouse, youknow."

"Yeah but the firehouse has those obnoxious rules about not walking around naked or having sex on the kitchen table, and we like both of thosethings."

"We do not need to discuss this," Shannon said. "I don't want to hear anything about your bare ass on the kitchentable."

"No, we don't." I glanced over at Tom with an appreciative nod. He was beating the hell out of his keyboard and jostling his knees like the device required the kinetic energy to keep up. "That is one sharp turtleneck sweater, Thomas. Can I borrow itsometime?"

He didn't even look at me when he replied, "No."

"You know, now that I think about it, that sweater wouldn't fit me. Too small." I flexed a bicep. "Wouldn't want the guns stretching it out. Where can I get one of myown?"

His gaze still glued to his laptop screen, he blew out an exasperated breath. "If I miss my flight to Vancouver,I'll suffocate you with thissweater."