Breaking Bro Code

God grant me the serenity to not choke the wildcard of rich b*tches... Charlie f*cking McAllister. My best friend's little sister and tormentor extraordinaire. Star of my every trauma as a teenager. And thanks to our mothers and their matchmaking schemes for our annual ski week… my savior. Or ruin. One week as a couple, putting on a show for our parents while avoiding our exes. How hard could it be? Until we're stuck sharing a room. A room with one bed. And a toy arsenal the spawn brought with her big enough to subdue a small country. I promised not to f*ck Chance's baby sister, but who was going to keep her from f*cking me? Includes a Provoking Saint Nick bonus story.

God grant me the strength to survive mistletoe and the barnacle of boardroom princesses… Holly f*cking McAdams. My best friend's little sister and pint-sized menace. Thanks to her lost luggage, a surprise snowstorm, and a conveniently "full" hotel, she's the little spoon for the night. Her so-called brilliant plan to avoid accidental spooning? A catastrophic failure, in case you were wondering. There's a code-a bro code I take very seriously-but some kind of mistletoe-fueled voodoo hijacked my better judgment. Maybe it's the possessed mistletoe playing matchmaker with a demonic flair. Could be the manifestation panties I can't get out of my head. Or her cute little librarian glasses invite me to her stacks, if you get my drift. And you'll never convince me that the thigh-high striped socks she wears to "keep warm" are anything less than a tactical maneuver designed to leave me putting a book over it-and I'm not a big reader. Everything about her is a snake charmer's symphony, conducting a full-scale assault on my co-er, anaconda. When Nick asked me to give his baby sister a ride… did he really expect me to survive her thigh-high socks and my rapidly deteriorating self-control?