Allie had scored a winner. And in that moment he crashed even harder for her.

Nick’s eyes darted from the tree that rivaled the one standing front and center in the Walnut Room to the table set with red-and-white poinsettias and mosaic votives. The candles were lit, making the place smell like a potpourri of spices that sucked the coldness out of his highly stylized penthouse. It was the first time his place had felt like a home, and it had everything to do with the woman currently destroying his kitchen.

As if on cue, Allie appeared at Hudson’s side. He threw an arm around her shoulder, then kissed the crown of her head, watching as Nick zeroed in on the wooden pyramid. He reached out to give the thin wooden paddles a spin, but the moment his finger made contact the intricate contraption fell apart; angels fell from heaven, propellers hit the ground.

“Jesus Christ,” Hudson muttered under his breath. “Some things never change.”

Allie covered her mouth to hide her laugh as he strode over to the wooden carnage.

“I just wanted to make the little guys spin faster, dude.” Nick gathered the paddles that had flung in every direction while Hudson rescued a fallen angel from the ground.

“Does the concept of leaving shit alone ever enter your head?”

“Does chillin’ the fuck out ever enter yours?” Nick plugged one of the propellers into its designated hole, his hand hovering over the pyramid until he was sure it would stay put.

Hudson pushed Nick’s hand aside. “Give it to me.”

“Hey, leave the CEO at the office. I got it.” Nick popped another paddle into position, then another before wood took another trip to the ground. “Son of a bitch.”

“Move.” Hudson shoved Nick out of the way as his little brother played pick-up sticks.

“Have at it.” Nick dropped the propellers into a pile on the table and sauntered over to the tree. “Dude, that’s a mountain of boxes.” He squatted down and started rifling through the packages. “I see a ton of shit with my name on it. What’s the holdup?”

“After dinner.”

“After dinner? Hells no. I know when you’re hiding something. And when you do, it’s worth it.” Nick stood up. “C’mon, man. What’s the fuckin’ deal?”

“Hey, there’s no ‘fuck’ in Christmas.”

Allie leaned closer, whispering so only he could hear. “That’s not what I heard in the kitchen.”

“That was different.” Hudson brushed his lips against her temple.

“Now or later, bro, you’re still going to give me the prezzie. I know you and you can’t resist. So hand it over.”

“No. Later.”

“Oh, please.” Allie rolled her eyes. “You’ve been excited about this all day. Just give it to him.” She’d busted his balls on that one.

“Fine, you can open one.”

With that, Nick dove for the mass of boxes under the tree and began his own version of a scavenger hunt. He surfaced with a huge rectangular box that had his name scratched on it in Hudson’s handwriting.

“That’s your choice?”

Nick grinned. “Bigger is better.”

“Not necessarily.” Hudson strode toward the tree and closed in on a small red box with silver satin ribbon tied in an elaborate bow. All Allie’s doing, of course. He had no patience when it came to wrapping presents, always opting for a stick-on. Peel, slap, done.

“The little one?” Nick eyed it skeptically.

“Fine, if you would rather have the box with the cashmere sweater in it. Your choice.”

Allie looked on, unable to contain her smile as Nick’s eyes volleyed between the big box in his hands and the little one Hudson held in his palm. “You know what they say about big things coming in small packages,” she prompted.

Nick laughed. “That’s what she said.” He tossed the larger box aside and snatched the smaller one out of Hudson’s hand. After ripping off the ribbon, he lifted the lid to find a silver key nestled inside with a chain that read HARLEY DAVIDSON. Nick was speechless for about a nanosecond, then his head shot up. “No fuckin’ way.”

“There’s still a few minutes before dinner’s ready,” Allie said. “Why don’t you take him down to the garage and show him.”

“It’s here?”

“You want to go see it?”

“Uh, hell yeah.” Nick dropped the box and was on his feet, bouncing on the balls like he did when he was a kid.

Hudson crooked an elbow around his little brother’s neck and dragged him toward the foyer with a knuckle to the head. “Get the lead out, little man.” It was possible he was as excited as his brother was. They were hanging out again and Nick was flashing a smile that reminded him of when he was a kid opening up some POS present Hudson had managed to scrape enough money together to buy. But this time he was giving his brother something that made up for a childhood of crap cars with wheels that fell off after a week. This time his brother was getting the real-fucking-deal Hot Wheels.

Nick broke free and ran ahead. He punched the button for the elevator. “C’mon, old man. Ditch the walker and hurry up.”

Hudson had barely stepped onto the elevator when Nick thumb-punched the Door Close button. He thought his brother was going to bounce off the walls during what must’ve been the longest elevator ride of his life.

In three . . . two . . . one . . . the doors opened.

Parked next to Hudson’s gun-metal gray DB9 was Nick’s unicorn, a Harley Davidson Fat Boy, laid back and luxurious with the unmistakable nostalgic profile.

Hudson Chase didn’t fuck around when it came to motorcycles.

Nick moved toward the shiny black classic as if he got too close, the mirage would disappear. “Is this mine?”

Hudson chuckled. “Yeah, merry Christmas.”

His brother let his hand drift over the chrome badge emblazoned on the side of the leather strap tank, then threw his leg over the bike.

“It’s a Twin Cam 103 with six-speed cruise drive transmission. It’s got a chrome speedometer and ignition switch console.” Hudson pointed. “All the info you need at a quick glance.”

Nick’s hands darted to the handlebars that were set wide and made of stainless steel with bare-knuckle chrome risers. “This is one sick-ass bike.”

“If you don’t like the color or the make, we can trade it in.”

“No way. This is the best present in the world, bro. I love it.” Nick kicked back on the throne of metal, surveying the concrete wall in front of him like it was the open road. “When are we going riding?”

“Bike, snow, not a good combo.”

“Ah, come on, buzzkill.”

“No bike in this weather. Not to mention you’ll freeze your balls off.”

“Like I said. Buzz. Kill.” Nick cocked a grin.

“Common sense.” Hudson took two quick strides forward. “It has mirror chrome wheels and a NextGen security system that automatically arms and disarms the ride,” he said, pointing out the bells and whistles. “The thing is better than what’s on my bike.”

Nick was touching everything, skimming his hands over every inch. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Try thank you.”

He looked up. “Thank you, Hudson.”

“You’re welcome. Glad you like it.” Hudson felt his phone vibrate in the ass pocket of his pants. He dug the thing out and with his thumbs working, punched a message before slipping the phone back in his pocket. “Dinner’s ready.” As soon as he finished his sentence, his phone vibrated again.

“We better get our asses upstairs,” Nick said, swinging his leg over the bike in a dismount.

“Yeah.” Hudson typed a reply and put the phone away again, then shot his brother a stern glare. “No drinking and riding, feel me?”

“Dude, when are you going to let up? Sober, remember?” Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a thirty-day chip. He flicked it at Hudson.

Hudson caught the chip, studying one side, then the other. There were numerous things to say, yet he stood there with not a damn thing coming to mind except, “This is my Christmas present, Nicky.” He cleared his throat. “We better hit it before Allie starts texting my ass again.”