“Not arguing.” Mitch looked over his shoulder, then stepped closer to her. “I missed you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, and then she couldn’t speak because he kissed her. The kiss felt soft, rich with affection, and ripe with arousal. When he lifted his head moments later and smiled into her eyes, she could do no more than sigh.
“You’re good at that.”
“Just that?”
She sighed again.
Mitch hugged her, and she felt his touch to her bones. Being in his arms was like coming home.
No. Iamhome.She disentangled herself and ignored her confusion. She refused to look away, not wanting Mitch to think he frazzled her.
He stared at her mouth and gave a slow, satisfied smile. “Just as sweet as your desserts, Becca.”
“Oh, stop.”
He stroked her cheek, and she trembled.
He swore under his breath. “I wish we were back at my place. How about a few minutes in a closet? We have time for that?”
It dawned on her she hadn’t heard from Simon. She pushed at Mitch, and he stepped back. “Simon?” she called.
“I’m upstairs,” came the distant response. “I’ll be right down.”
She let out a relieved breath. No doubt he’d been occupied with turning off his video game.
“That’s a no on the closet?” Mitch asked, his hands in his pockets. He wore jeans and a red, button-down shirt. And Captain America socks. He followed her gaze to his feet and laughed. “A gift from my brother. And come on, it’s Captain America.”
She couldn’t help it. She pulled him forward and kissed him.
This time, they were both breathing hard when they parted.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she rasped.
“What?”
“Kissed you in our house,” Simon said from behind them, “in case I might see.”
They sprang apart.
Simon, to her consternation, looked pleased. “Was that a Happy Thanksgiving kiss, Mom? As a way to welcome our newfriend?Or a thank you to Mitch for bringing all this?” Simon held up a large grocery bag.
She knew they’d have to discuss what he’d seen later but took the opportunity to skirt his question. “Mitch, you didn’t have to bring anything.”
“I know. But I didn’t want to come emptyhanded.”
Simon put the bag on the edge of the table, so as not to displace the table settings. Becca pulled out a bottle of wine that looked expensive. A six-pack of beer. Pricey salami, gourmet cheese and crackers, as well as a—football?
“That’s for Simon,” Mitch said. “Oh wait. I forgot something. I’ll be right back.” He left, and she and Simon stared at each other.
“I’ll take the football over the kiss any day.”
She blushed, and her son laughed. “Simon, what you saw…”
“I know what I saw. Don’t worry, Mom. Mitch is okay.”
“But that’s not—”
